“Dammit.” He closed his hand around the bottle and screwed his eyes shut. Nothing else he had would even come close to touching his pain. And he doubted the tiny pharmacy in town would be able to refill his prescription right away, even if he could get his doctor to fax it over. Plus, he was stuck at home anyway until whatever had happened to the road was fixed.
And his cane was probably now buried in sand down at the bottom of the stairs to the beach.
What a morning.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave, took a deep breath, and hobbled over to the trash can, where he tossed the empty pill bottle. Then he turned back to the table.
The two cups of tea sat there, still steaming.
Jake blinked his eyes closed for a long second. “He’s alive,” he reminded himself aloud, and then he picked up one of the cups of tea and looked down the hallway. The door to the extra bedroom was still closed, and he hadn’t heard anything from the room since he’d left.
He just hoped the man liked lemon balm tea with honey.
With a grimace, Jake started slowly down the hallway, reaching out to steady himself on the wall. The hallway was short, and he stopped in front of the door and took a few seconds to listen. But he still heard nothing at all. A wave of unease washed over him, and he knocked quietly on the door.
“Hey, I’ve got hot tea here for you,” he called, just loud enough that he was confident he’d be heard.
Silence.
Exhaling a sigh, he reached down and opened the door slowly, pushing it inward. His eyes fell on the bed, and his expression immediately softened. The man sat at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor and his hands clasped together in his lap. Jake’s clothes were almost comically too big on him, and maybe under different circumstances, Jake might have managed some kind of joke.
Instead, he just started on his way over, still hobbling slowly.
“I’ll just set this on the nightstand for you,” he explained as he approached, trying not to frown when the man obviously tensed. Still being as careful and deliberate as possible, Jake placed the mug on the nightstand and straightened back up. He cleared his throat, trying to decide what to do or what to say. He wished he’d taken a few minutes and thought this whole thing through.
His throbbing leg forced him to make a split-second decision, however, and he turned and started to leave again, grunting in pain. He needed to sit. Probably lie down, actually. Not stand here and keep trying to talk to a man who wouldn’t speak.
Not that Jake blamed him. There was obviously a reason.
Jake glanced back at the man when he reached the door. Steadying himself with a hand on the doorjamb, he forced a smile as best he could.
The young man still just stared at his hands, his jaw taut and trembling. He looked like he was ready to take off, except to Jake’s eyes, the man also looked so weak and frail that he might barely be able to stand by himself, much less walk.
Jake’s stomach churned as he pictured the young man trying to leave—heading out into the cold, pouring rain, coughing and stumbling.
“You can stay here if you’d like,” Jake blurted out, gripping the doorjamb even more tightly. The man just closed his eyes. “I don’t know what your situation is, and I don’t need to,” Jake added quickly. “But it’s cold and raining, and I’d much rather...” He trailed off for a moment as he watched the young man lift a hand and wipe his cheek. Shit, was he crying? Jake pursed his lips and swallowed down the ache building in his chest. “I’d really much rather you stay here if you have no place to go. I’ve got the extra room. It’s not a problem.”
At this point, he didn’t expect an answer, and he didn’t wait for one. He needed to get off his leg, and soon. So without another word, he turned and left the room, limping down the hallway back to the kitchen. Then he picked up his tea and laptop from the table, grabbed the home phone off the receiver, and shuffled the rest of the way to the couch, fighting for every step.
By the time he finally set all the things on the coffee table and then collapsed onto the couch, he was pretty surehewas the one who was going to need a doctor.
Jake took several deep breaths as he repositioned himself so his back was against the armrest, then he lifted his bad leg up onto the couch and closed his eyes. He could almost hear his sister’s voice now.
“You did what?! Jacob Andrew Wright, what the actual fuck? Are you trying to get yourself hospitalized?!”
He would argue, in his defense, that he had saved the man’s life. And his sister would sigh with resignation and admit that was a pretty noble thing to do. Then she’d continue to rip him a new one while also vowing to be there as soon as possible and with his refilled prescription.
Grimacing, he leaned forward and picked up the phone. He’d call Sue first, just to let her know the man was awake and responsive... sort of. And then he’d call his doctor and then his sister. Leave the scariest call for last.
With a laugh that probably came out more like a grunt, Jake hit the call button and started dialing.
“JacobAndrewWright,whatthe—”
“Kris, listen—”
“No, you listen! I don’t want to be having to visit you in the hospital again. You should’ve... Ah, fuck, I don’t know what you should’ve done. But, really? You reallycarriedthe man up from the beach?”
Jake sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Kris, it’s not a big deal,” he argued, keeping his voice low. “I’m, well... I mean, yeah, it hurts now, but I’ll be fine.”
