Tucker and Pete propped and positioned her on the massage table. With her shoulder in a comfortable position, Tucker applied moist heat to her upper back while Pete massaged her knotted calf muscles. Cassie buried her face in her pillow to hide the tears.
Giving her time to recover, both helped her sit up, encouraging her to squeeze stress balls to unlock her stiff fingers. “How are you doing, honey?” Pete asked.
“I’m fine.” She gritted her teeth. After taking a few more minutes to rest, it was time to stretch her lungs.
Tucker counted out a soft cadence for each deep breath. “Cassie, talk to us. Are you lightheaded?”
She tucked her chin. “I’m fine.” Her caretakers would have to be deaf and blind to miss her struggle.
Tucker said, “You need to tell us if you feel lightheaded, and we’ll stop. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she snapped. After a short rest, she insisted she could repeat the sequence.
“How about a couple of steps?” Hunter positioned a walker designed for her left hand and her right forearm in front of her.
The dizzy feeling worsened, and Cassie spotted her eyes on a planter, hoping to steady herself. Hunter's hand rested against her right hip as she took a first tentative step. The world tilted, and her legs gave out, collapsing her to the ground. She kicked at the slate in frustration. “Damn it!”
Her family, watching through the French doors, came flying outside. Cassie missed Hunter wave everyone away before he sat down on the ground nearby and waited. She hurt all over and cursed again.
“We’re a team. Just ask for help. No one expects you to heal in one day, and certainly not alone. Reach out.” Hunter’s words were soft on the breeze.
Cassie thought about the night at the museum and the stabbing. She thought about the night she hurt Eric and last night on her walk with Ian. When she needed help, Ian came. Lillian's words echoed in her mind as tears filled her eyes but did not drop. The internal battle stilled within her. “Help me, please.” Her voice was tiny.
Hunter’s eyes twinkled as he extended his hand. “I’m right here, Cassie.”
* * *
Lillian helped Cassie clean up. “I told Hunt you needed to start living again. No more being cooped up in this room. After dinner, Monique, Sophie, Rachel, and I planned a hen party. Manicures, pedicures, gossip, maybe a movie. And no men.”
“Really?” Cassie grinned.
“Yup. You have another dose of antibiotics coming and another feeding—and then some rest.”
Cassie waved Lillian closer. “Lil, I heard Tuck yelling at someone. Is everything okay?”
“You have big ears, missy,” Tucker said as he walked in with the medication. “You have a neighbor. Martin is more stubborn than you are.”
“I guess Ian is running a hospital. Is he okay?” Cassie worried.
Tucker laughed. “Nothing a swift kick in his bottom won’t cure.”
Cassie giggled. After a short nap, she was excited to participate in the girls’ night, but first, she was intent on meeting her neighbor.
Martin sat in boxer shorts with his legs propped up on pillows and his laptop across his bruised thighs. Tucker knocked on the door. “You decent?”
“What do you think? You’ve got me tied to this damn bed, and I’m wearing these stupid stockings.”
“Well, Mr. Charm School, you have company.”
Tucker pushed Cassie’s wheelchair inside. “Damn it, Tuck. Why didn’t you say something?” After the initial embarrassment wore off, Martin dragged the covers over his legs. Tucker left Cassie with Martin.
“I wanted to meet my neighbor. Kick them a lot—they won’t make you wear the stockings.”
Martin chuckled and introduced himself. “I don’t think Tuck would tolerate that from me. He's fast with a needle.”
Cassie smiled. “I guess you know who I am. And I know who you are. Martin, I’m sorry. Ian told me about the accident. You were hurt because of me.”
“I was hurt because some moron crossed the double yellows and hit me. How are you feeling, Gator?”
