Does the broken boy know that you’re just fucking around with him? I can let him down for you. I will let him know now that I’m back, he is dismissed.
XOXO,
Claire
Russell,
I don’t believe that you love him. You’ve never loved anyone. You’re settling with him. You deserve more than what he is and what he is capable of giving. You deserve a bottom that will truly give you what you deserve. You have so many options for capable bottoms, Russell. I can’t stand to see you throw your desires away for a broken bottom.
XOXO,
Claire
As I read each email,I deleted them.
They soon brought Ryan back and had ruled out any clogged or blocked arteries. They were confident that my Ryan had a healthy heart, which relaxed me immensely.
“We want to go ahead and perform an MRI to determine where the issue is at,” the doctor announced.
Ryan was the fourth person waiting to an MRI tonight. Knowing how long those can take, I knew that we had some time to wait.
“I’ve never been in the hospital,” Ryan admitted when it was just us.
“No?”
“No,” he confirmed.
We stared at each other and then shared a quiet laugh. Considering the hell that he grew up in, Ryan was probably a monthly candidate for a trip to the hospital as a boy. It made perfect sense though that he hadn’t been to the hospital. There’d be way too many questions his parents would have had to answer.
“Have you?” Ryan asked me.
I nodded.
“I had my tonsils removed when I was in elementary school and I had a gunshot wound in my thirties.”
“What? A fucking gunshot!”
“Relax, my boy.” I put my forearms on the side of his bed beside his legs, and showed him the palm on my right hand. I pointed to the old scar that remained between my thumb and forefinger. “See, this is it.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“Nick and I were standing outside a club and some punk came up to us. They pointed the gun at Nick and asked for his wallet and car keys. I covered the barrel of the gun with my hand and moved it out of Nick’s direction. The gun went off and took a chunk of skin out of my hand. They cleaned me up, stitched up the wound, gave me an antibiotic and sent me home.”
“What happened with the guy and the gun?”
I laughed as I remembered the coward running away. I explained to Ryan that the guy took off running when the gun went off. He probably had no intention of using the gun in any other way aside from instilling fear.
“You’re fucking bulletproof,” Ryan joked.
He was starting to look really worn out. He hadn’t slept well, woke up from a nightmare and then I rushed him off to the emergency room. I told him that it was okay for him to rest his eyes until they came for him for the MRI. He fought it for a while, but finally closed his eyes to rest. Ryan’s heartbeat had settled down to a calmer pace. I looked at him and felt relieved his heart was physically okay. I reached out and covered his hand with mine.
“I love you, Ryan,” I whispered and squeezed his hand gently.
While they took Ryan for the MRI, I got up and walked around for a bit. I strolled to the cafeteria to stretch my legs and get come coffee. As I walked, I squeezed Ryan’s wallet in my hand as if it were his hand. I went through a gamete of things that could be causing his arm and hand to go to sleep, but really, I was at a loss. I called Nick and talked to him for a few moments, and it was during that conversation that I realized how worried I was about Ryan.
“Do they have any ideas yet?” Nick asked.
“No, or at least, not that they have voiced.”
