“I need to make a phone call, now,” Kim demanded.
Betty laughed and rolled her eyes, “You know damned well, you have to wait until rec time to make a call.”
“You’re being a bitch on purpose!” Kim squeaked.
She stomped her feet and let out a frustrated scream.
Betty pulled her baton from her waist and rapped hard against the cell several times.
“Don’t make me come in there and restrain you again, little girl. I amnotthe one,” she warned.
Kim stopped instantly, then sat down on the one-inch thick cot, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child. Betty stomped back down the hall, leaving her alone in the cold, dark isolation of the cell. When Kim had initially arrived at the jail, she was sedated and restrained, and it had been painful being strapped to that bed. The springs, dug into her back for two days before they let her out. She’d pass on a repeat experience, waitfor the right time to make her call, and then set up her next move.
LANA HAD BEEN doingher best to keep Paula’s guestroom in order since she and Kayden had been convalescing the past week. The daily cleaning gave her something to do other than worry when he had his physical therapy. With the bed finally finished being made, she had scanned the space, ensuring it was spotless. It looked like all the other rooms in the house. Spacious with ebony colored furniture and a plush white carpet under the canopy bed against a panoramic window. Unfortunately, it was the room where Kim spent most of her time, which skeeved Lana a bit, but it was fine. A quick saging of the room took care of any malicious energy she may have left behind.
Remembering that she was locked tight in a cell and wouldn’t be going anywhere until her court date put Lana at ease whenever she thought about her too much. It still didn’t stop the occasional nightmares she’d had since sleeping there, however. In her dreams, she’d wake up in the middle of the night to find Kim standing over them in the bed. When she woke, she’d jump up, drenched in sweat, clutching the sheets. Kayden would be knocked out, snoring, never stirring.
He seemed to have no problem resting most nights despite everything, and that bothered her a little.How could he sleep through my thrashing?She’d wonder that every time as she wiped the sweat away from her face and neck, panting, trying to catch her breath. Lana hopped over to the vanity mirror chair next to the closet and grabbed his leather jacket that was draped over it. She hung it on a hanger and felt a little better, not needing the crutches to move around the room. Herleg was healing excellently, but she wouldn’t be pulling twelve-hour shifts in any hospital for a while. Kayden’s arm was still mangled, and although he tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, Lana knew better.
She’d watch him from the corner of her eye as he got frustrated with himself for not being able to do what he once did. It was going to take time, but patience wasn’t exactly a trait Kayden was accustomed to. It was good that he was persistent, but she wished he’d cut himself a little slack. Taking things out on himself was something that he worked hard to break, and he didn’t need to fall back into old habits.
KAYDEN WASIN his wheelchair in the living room, focused on his physical therapy exercises, while Maureen hovered nearby, fussing over him like an overprotective parent. He was sweating, panting as he tried to use his good hand to steady himself, and her version of encouragement wasn’t exactly helping him to focus.
“Take your time, sweetie,” Maureen nagged, as Kayden struggled to lift his leg from the floor.
His physical therapist, Theo, shot her a look, clearly annoyed with her constant interruptions.
“Let him go at his own pace, Mrs. Capshaw,” Theo stated.
He was tall —about six feet— and wearing a green polo shirt with a Manhattan Garden Physical Therapy patch over the breast pocket. Maureen had flown him in from New York since he was the best, and in her estimation, that’s what Kayden needed—only the best.
“I got it, Mom, please,” Kayden grunted, struggling to lift his leg an inch from the floor.
His other arm was in a blue sling; the cast now extended from the elbow to his wrist, and he gripped the wheelchair arm with his other hand. Finally, his leg lifted about a couple of inches from the floor before he rested it back down. He could only attempt this once the hairline fracture in his hip was healed, and he got the green light for that a few days ago. Even though he was healing, he still had a long way to go before and that frustrated him more than anything.
Lana hopped into the spotless kitchen on her crutches and eyed the exchange between Maureen and Kayden, as her own ankle started to throb. She reached into the cabinet for some acetaminophen when a mild pain jabbed her lower stomach.
She’d experienced the awkward sensation a couple of times in the past few days but didn’t get alarmed. It was normal to feel them as the baby grew, but she decided to still bring it up to the doctor. Her third appointment with the gynecologist was in a few hours, and she had really hoped to be able to go alone this time. Unfortunately, Maureen insisted that Paula accompany her as she just as she had done for her last two appointments.
Lana was okay with Paula’s company, and though the changed behavior in Maureen seemed to be sticking around, she still felt uneasy about how nice she was being. If it weren’t for her grooming Kim, none of what they’d gone through would have happened in the first place, and she had a hard time letting that go.
Lana popped two of the pills and swallowed them down with orange juice. She put the glass in the sink, grabbed her crutches, and slowly made her way towards Kayden. She winked at him on approach as Theo helped him put his leg back into the wheelchair leg strap.
“Are you going to do any arm exercises today?” Maureen quizzed.
Theo patted Kayden on the shoulder, “Great job today, man.” He turned to Maureen next, “It’s still a bit early for that. We prefer it to be monitored by a doctor a little while longer before...,” he started.
“Mom, would you stop it and let him do his damn job?” Kayden hollered.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to help,” she argued.
Lana finally made it into the transformed living room. All the furniture had been pushed to one side and replaced with gym equipment and a parallel bar setup when the time came. She sat on the sofa’s edge as close to him as she could, leaned over, and pecked his cheek.
“Morning, baby,” she chimed.
“Morning, beautiful,” he replied, panting and winded.
His thin tank top was drenched in sweat, and his too-long hair was piled in a small man-bun atop his head.
