Page 11 of Property of Mongrel

I sigh and look at the IV still in my arm then wave it in the air. “So, I’m supposed to go when this arm is hampered by a metal pole and tubing, and my other one by bulky bandaging and a sling?”

Doc chuckles as he makes his way to my bedside. “I’ll help you up, brother,” he says as he raises the back so I’m sitting upright. “Alrighty, now, turn but don’t try to get down until I’m in position.”

I roll my eyes but do as he says since he’s the one with medical experience. “Now what?”

Moving to my right side, he grabs the IV pole and maneuvers it so it’s closer, then he gets me up with his arm, keeping it around me as I wobble slightly. We slowly start walking toward the restroom and then I hear Gretchen giggling.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Not that I’d ever ask, but it’s obvious right now that you do have a tan,” she teases, “because the moon is shining in West Texas right now.” Doc barks out a laugh before he steadies me and quickly ties the back of my gown which was left untied after surgery. Meanwhile, I give her the stink eye until she waves her phone and singsongs, “It’s payback for your stunt this morning.”

Shaking my head, I wait for Doc to continue to lead me to the bathroom and when we’re far enough away, I whisper, “She’s evil.”

“She holds a mean grudge, brother, I told you that,” he replies.

“Huh, bet she’ll feel bad when those packages arrive,” I predict. When he goes to follow me inside, I hold my hand up. “Think I got it from here and can hold my own dick, Doc.”

He raises his brow at me, then motions for me to carry on. “I’ll wait until you’re done, but all jokes aside, Mongrel, if you start to have any problems or feel faint, you better fucking call out for me. Do you understand?” he asks.

“Got it, brother,” I reply as he carefully closes the door behind me.

Thankfully, there’s a bar I’m able to quasi hold on to while I empty my bladder. I’m kind of surprised at how long I piss considering that I haven’t drank anything since last night. Then it occurs to me that I’ve been hooked up to fluids since I arrived at the hospital and it makes complete sense. All I know is I feel a million times better once I’m done. Washing my hand is another challenge that I manage to accomplish all on my own, but I can feel myself weakening when I turn around to leave so I call out for Doc.

True to his word, he knocks once then opens the door, managing to grab me before I fall. “Glad to see you didn’t try to do it yourself,” he says.

“Surprisingly, I know my limits,” I retort as he helps me get back into the hospital bed. “Now what?”

“Well, the nurse needs to take out your IV and go over your discharge instructions, then you have to get dressed and we’ll take you back to the clubhouse,” he replies.

“Once we have you settled, I’ll go and grab your prescriptions,” Doc advises as we slowly make our way to my room. “The shitty thing is, you’re not going to be able to sleep lying down, but I found a specialized pillow for you to use. I’ll also get your cooling unit set up as well.”

“How long before the nerve block wears off?” I ask. Based on what I read in the discharge notes, it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be pleasant at all, and I want to be prepared.

“It honestly depends on your metabolism, Mongrel. They just did a single shot injection, which can last up to forty-eight hours, but usually begins to wear off within twenty-four. I’ll be checking on you throughout the night and will probably ask you if you can feel anything so you can take some of the painkillers Albertson prescribed. We call it getting ahead of the pain.”

CHAPTER

SIX

Addy

“Miss Addy!” JB exclaims as he rolls himself into therapy. I’m waiting at the front for him so I can let Darby know she’s free to run a few errands if she needs to since I’ll have him for the next hour.

“Well, look at you, JB,” I reply. “Let me talk to Mama Rossi for just a second then we’ll get started, okay?”

“I’m ready,” he says.

Walking over to Darby, I tell her, “We’ll be about an hour if you have any quick errands you’d like to run.”

“Normally, I’d stay and wait, but I do need to drop a few things off at the post office, plus I was about to put in a pickup order at Walmart. Seems all the kids I’ve got are going through a growth spurt or something because we’re just about out of stuff. Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asks.

“Not at all, he’s my last one for the day and I got him a little surprise, so if it takes a few extra minutes, don’t worry. I’ve got paperwork, of course, and he’s a delightful little guy so I don’t mind one bit,” I reply.

“I’ll send you a text later, but it’s a horrible situation. Apparently, during his therapy session, he told his therapist that sometimes, his mom hurt him too. So now, CPS has her under investigation because it’s not the first time for her. She’s also defending what her husband did, saying it wasn’t his fault, that JB was running and tripped over his own two feet.”

Warring emotions rush through me right now; rage and anger that this little boy couldn’t trust the one person who was supposed to love and care for him, nausea that the place he should have been safest, his own home, was in fact perilous for his well-being.

“Whatever you need, Darby, let me know,” I murmur. “Now, let me go see if Iron Man is ready to work or not.”