Pieces Of Us: Missing Pieces Series, Book Three

by Walker, N. R.

  “If you’ve got a bike we could demonstrate with . . .” he said.

  The two client bikes we had in store were both on stands, one without a tyre and one without its handlebars. Not that I would have been comfortable using a client’s bike anyway.

  “What about mine?” Justin said, nodding to his bike in the corner. “I’ll bring it over.”

  Mine was behind Juss’ bike but he was already off his scooter and walking to get it. I went to help him, but Sparra took my arm. “He’s got it,” he whispered.

  I knew I had to let Justin do things on his own, but what if it fell on him?

  Juss kicked the stand up and wheeled his bike over, trying not to grin too wide. “Be careful with her,” he said to Connor. “I’m gonna ride her again one day, aren’t I, Dall?”

  Everyone turned to me. He was going to ride again one day. But not just yet. “Yep. One day. Might be a while before we tackle any motocross tracks though.”

  Connor showed us how to get the bike onto the hoist, secure it, demonstrating all its features. He noticed Juss get back on his scooter and fix his right leg onto the footrest, but Connor never missed a beat. It was obvious Juss had a leg injury, so he showed us how to use the hoist sitting on the smaller stools on wheels, standing up, or for Juss’ height on his scooter.

  Then, of course, when I was talking deals and dollars with Connor, Juss and Sparra raced each other from one end of the shop to the other. Sparra was on the wheelie-stool and Juss was on his scooter and, of course, Juss won, so there was a bit of yelling and laughing, and both Connor and I stopped to watch them.

  To see Juss laughing and so full of life, after being near-catatonic a week ago, made me happier than words could say.

  Then it was Davo’s turn to race Juss, but his scooter was faster than a little stool. Not to mention that Juss had it down to an art.

  “Seem like a fun bunch,” Connor said.

  “Anything with wheels, I swear,” I replied.

  “The guy with the mobility scooter,” he began. “Leg injury?”

  Amongst other things. “Yep.”

  “Motorbike?”

  “Nah. The van he was driving got hit by a truck.”

  “Holy hell,” he whispered. Then the penny dropped. “Oh shit, was that a few months back? I remember that. It was on the news. They weren’t expecting him to survive. And that’s him?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow, he was lucky.” Then he cringed. “Not that getting hit by a truck is lucky . . .”

  “We were all lucky that day,” I answered. “Lucky he survived, that is.”

  We watched on as Juss laughed at something Davo said, and my heart flooded with warmth. We came so close to losing him.

  I signed off on two new hoists, feeling pretty good about upgrading shop equipment for the guys. When we came out of my office, they had Juss’ bike off the hoist and Justin was sitting on it.

  “Looks like he misses not being able to ride,” Connor said to me, and after a bit of small talk and promises to be in touch real soon, Davo and Sparra helped him load the demo hoists back into his truck, and he left.

  Juss was grinning as he sat on his bike, and it was hard not to smile back at him. “I’m telling ya,” he said. “One day.”

  I nodded. “One day.” Then what Connor had said and seeing Juss smile like that gave me an idea. “Can you put your foot on the footpeg okay?”

  He lifted his right leg and bent it so he could put his foot up. “Yeah. But if I had to stop in a hurry and put my leg down . . .”

  “Hold on,” I said. I ducked into my office and came back out holding up the key.

  “Dallas, I . . .” He shook his head.

  “You’re not going to. I am. You just gotta hold onto me.”

  “You’re gonna double me?”

  “Just out through the shop, around the backyard, and back in. We’re not going out on the street.”

  There was a moment of hesitation before his grin widened. “Hell. Yes.”

  I grabbed our helmets and put mine on, then handed Juss his. “If it’s uncomfortable . . .”

  He gently fitted the helmet over his scar, and when he had it on, he grinned so hard, his cheeks barely fit in the helmet. I swung my leg over the tank and handlebars, stood astride, kicked up the stand, and took control of the weight of the bike.

  Juss put his hands on my hips, then around my waist. “I like this,” he said.

  I put the key in the ignition and turned her over. The bike spluttered a bit and kicked to life, and Davo and Sparra raced into the shop. Davo sagged when he saw it was me. “You scared the shit outta me! Thought it was Jusso,” he yelled over the sound of the engine.

  I tapped the gears down into first and released the clutch, nice and easy. We rolled forward and puttered out past Davo and Sparra—who were grinning madly—through the front roller door into the yard, then around the back near my ute, and through the rear roller door. I made the loop a second time before driving back into the workshop and coming to a stop and turning the engine off.

  Sparra helped Juss off the bike, and I took my helmet off, waiting to see Juss’ face.

  I don’t know how he got his helmet off with the way he was grinning. “That was so awesome! Thank you!”

  “Oh God, you’ve created a monster,” Sparra said. “He’s gonna wanna do it all the time now. And then it’ll be on his own. And then it’ll be on a motocross track.”

  Juss was on too much of a high to care. “No, no. Not yet. But that . . . being on a bike again.” He met my eyes and nodded. “That’s who I am.”

  Oh, Juss.

  Davo clapped him on the shoulder. “How do you feel? Vibrations didn’t rattle anything loose?”

  “Nah. Feel good.”

  He was still grinning when he called it a day before lunch. I went upstairs with him and he was just buzzing. He went to the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen bench. “Dall, that was so good. I know it was for like, half a minute. But being on a bike, the sound of it, the smell of the exhaust. The way it feels, that exhilaration. I remember that. Even when I was a kid and things were shit at home, having a bike was what kept me sane. I’d work on it, ride it, tune it. Being on a bike is . . . me.”

  I kissed him with smiling lips. “I should have thought about doing it sooner.”

  “I dunno if I was ready before now. I might have freaked out, and for a second I was scared when you first mentioned it. Because what if I came off and got hurt again. But I trust you, and then I wanted to do it.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. “And Dall, it was . . . It was good to be reminded of who I am. It’s not like getting a memory back, not really. More of a confirmation or reassurance that I’m still me.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and gave him the biggest hug. “I’m so happy for you, Juss. Seeing you smile like that means the world to me.”

  He sighed. “I told you it was going to be a good week.”

  I held him for a bit longer, just because I could. “Want me to make you a sandwich?”

  He pulled back and looked up at me. His eyes were bright and clear. Happy. “Nah, I got it. You better get back downstairs. You’ve got a parts delivery coming this arvo, and Sparra wasn’t done with that engine rebuild.”

  “Maybe if someone wasn’t racing him on his scooter,” I joked.

  “I beat him too. And Davo.”

  I kissed him with smiling lips. “I know. I watched.”

  “I’ll be down later, before knock-off time. I need a nap, and I can’t decide if Squish and I are gonna watch some TV or if I’ll watch some porn.”

  I snorted. “Okay then. Well, I’ll let you decide.” I got to the door and turned back to face him. “But if you wanted to wait until tonight, maybe we could both watch it?”

  His smile became something else and he readjusted himself. “Today’s the best day ever.”

  “Well, you certainly look a lot better than the last time I saw you,” Doctor Chang said, clearly sur
prised to see Justin in such good shape.

  “I feel so much better,” Juss said. “Honestly.”

  Doctor Chang studied him for a second. “When I saw you last week, you weren’t feeling too great.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he replied. “And I didn’t leave the hospital too great either. I was pretty much wiped out for three days, literally couldn’t get off the couch, but I got better every day. I rested, drank a lot of water, ate well, slept a lot.” He squeezed my hand and gave me a smile before turning back to the doc. “Not gonna lie, it scared the hell outta me. Scared Dall, too.”

  She gave a nod and a small smile aimed at me. “I know. I saw him. I don’t know which one of you looked worse.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t much fun,” I said.

  Juss’ hold on my hand tightened. “That’s why I don’t want to ever go through that again. I don’t want to put myself through it, because it sucked, but . . . God, when I woke up in hospital and saw his face, he looked wrecked. I can’t do that to him again.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Did you want to talk about what you felt during the episode or what you experienced?”

  He shrugged. “I felt . . . stuck. Like before, after the accident, with the mist, it kind of swirled and moved. But this was thick and heavy, almost like being underwater. I could see and hear but I couldn’t get anything to make sense. I couldn’t speak. I just couldn’t do anything. There was no room in my head because it was so full of fog.”

  He’d used that analogy before, with the mist and fog. “But it cleared away pretty quick this time.”

  Doctor Chang nodded. “It’s not uncommon that patients recover quickly from something such as this. It’s more of a stumble than a full reset to square one. But we don’t want to be making a habit out of it, or the recovery times may start to lag.”

  “I don’t want to go through it again,” Juss said again. “Whatever I have to do.”

  She smiled and went through a list of procedures. How to recognise triggers and how to reduce the harm factor. And how to cope with stress and anxiety, and how to relieve the pressure of an attack.

  Juss nodded keenly at everything she said and suggested. “Okay. I can do that. And Dall will help notice any changes that I can’t see.”

  “For sure,” I agreed. “And I’ll not wait next time.”

  “Good, because, Justin, I’m writing you a referral for a therapist. She’s brilliant and—”

  “A therapist?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her gaze was unwavering. “We need to treat your mental health as we do your physical health. Not only in dealing with recognising stress triggers, but also with dealing with the accident. This is a long-term health treatment, and one I recommend to all my patients.”

  I squeezed his hand. “We can do that.”

  “So you mentioned your mother is one trigger,” Doctor Chang said, writing something down.

  “Yeah. We blocked her number so she can’t call me anymore,” Justin said. “It really helps just knowing I did that.”

  “Less anxiety hanging over you,” Doctor Chang said. “Every time the phone rings because you know it can’t be her.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good. Okay, so in the event of a stressful situation, what are some things you enjoy that could help relax you?”

  “Sex,” Justin replied. “Please say sex.”

  Doctor Chang’s eyes went wide and I snorted out a laugh. “Juss.”

  “No, babe, I’m serious. If she tells me it’s a coping mechanism, then it’s technically doctor’s orders, and then we can have sex all the time.”

  I laughed again and put my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, Doc.”

  She chuckled too. “Don’t apologise. Justin, you had some anxiety before from just the idea of sex. I take it you’ve been working on that?”

  “Uh, yeah,” he replied. “The small-steps approach worked well. Very well, actually. So if you could, you know, say it has medicinal purposes . . .”

  She smiled at that. “A doctor’s recommendation?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, please.”

  “As long as it doesn’t elevate stress or pain levels—”

  “Oh, it doesn’t,” he said, cutting her off. “And I do feel very relaxed afterward.”

  “Oh God.” I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. “Juss, baby.”

  Doctor Chang fought a smile. “Sex can increase the body’s production of oxytocin which releases endorphins.”

  Juss nodded. “Yes, it can.”

  “And that has been proven to reduce stress,” she added. Jesus, she was going along with this. “But Justin, you should know that having a partner isn’t required for sexual release. You don’t technically require Dallas’ assistance.”

  “Well, that’s true,” Juss replied. He let go of my hand and put both his hands out as though he was about to explain the size of a fish. “But he has a dick—”

  I pulled his hand down, mortified. “Oh my God, you’re not finishing that.”

  Doctor Chang burst out laughing and blushed a dark pink. “Well,” she said. “I won’t call it doctor’s orders, but a . . . recommendation.” Then she grew serious. “And only if it’s consensual between both of you. If Dallas isn’t comfortable, Justin, masturbation is fine.”

  “Oh, it’s consensual,” Juss replied cheerfully. “Isn’t it, Dall?”

  I sighed and shook my head with a laugh. “In case you were wondering, Doc, this whole conversation is a very Justin kind of conversation.”

  He smiled at me. “I feel good. I feel like me, like I can say the things I want to say. I wondered for a while who I was, and I wondered what version of me Dallas fell in love with. And now I know.”

  “The real you,” I answered.

  He nodded. “Yep.” He sat back in his seat and sighed, looking right at Doctor Chang. “There is going to be so much sex tonight.”

  She smiled at us and closed his file. Our time was up. “I want to see you again next week. I know I said we could move to fortnightly appointments, but after last week, I’d just like to make sure we follow-up properly.”

  Justin looked to me. “She wants an update on the sex.”

  She put up her hands. “No, I don’t. Unless there’s an issue we need to discuss, or if you have anything you’d like to talk about. But no details,” she said, putting her hands out like Justin had done with the size thing. “And no bragging, cripes.”

  That made Justin laugh, and it made me blush. “Sorry about that,” I said. Christ, I could not believe that was a topic of conversation . . .

  We left the appointment and made our way home. Justin reached over the console to take my hand while I drove. “There will be bragging. I hope she knows that.”

  I snorted. “Pretty sure she does, yeah.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We got back to the shop and Juss wanted to help Sparra with the ATV he was working on, citing he’d rest after lunch. He and Sparra had always been good mates, and since his accident, Juss had easily fallen back into step with him.

  It helped that Sparra was easy going and never batted an eyelid that Juss couldn’t remember him from before. If he had to explain something again, he’d just tell it like it was the first time.

  And I shouldn’t have been surprised when Juss had said he and Sparra were going to walk down to the corner takeaway shop and grab us some burgers. Sure, they delivered, but Juss and Sparra wanted to walk and chat, and after all, they’d done it a hundred times. But not since the accident.

  “We’ll be fine,” Juss said to me. “I’m using the scooter.”

  And what could I say? He was an adult, for crying out loud. I couldn’t tell him no. I wasn’t his keeper.

  “Okay then, well, be safe. And if you need me, call me.”

  Juss rolled his eyes but he smiled. “Dall, I’ll be fine.”

  I nodded, because yeah, sure, I knew he would be. And he was cautious about overdoing it, and I knew he wouldn
’t push himself. But damn, I could still worry.

  I watched the front gate as they left and I watched it every minute they were gone.

  Davo clapped me on the back. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Hmm.”

  “You gotta let him do stuff.”

  “I know. I just . . .”

  “You just worry. I get it. And I don’t blame ya. But it’s just down the road, he has his scooter, and Sparra won’t let anything happen to him.”

  “Hmm.”

  “He needs to be able to go into a shop and order and pay for stuff, Dall. He’s gotta start doing that shit some time.”

  “Yeah, I know . . .” And I did know that. “But God, if something were to happen . . . if he falls or gets dizzy, or hears a car screech its tyres and freaks out, or—” I shook my head. “I can’t bear the thought of him having another setback.”

  Davo’s tone softened. “I know, mate. And I’m not downplaying anything that he went through or what you went through with him. But you can’t be there every minute of forever. He needs to start doing things on his own again.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “How’re you gonna be when he starts to drive again?”

  I shot Davo a look that probably bordered on panicked and wild. “Christ. I dunno. I’m going to not think about that until I have to, is what I’m gonna do.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve got a bit of time yet. But you’re gonna have to think about it eventually.”

  “Hmm.” Fucking hell. “I don’t want to wrap him up in cotton wool, and I know he’s not made of glass. But he’s not unbreakable either. When you come so close to losing someone, something inside you changes. You’ll do anything to protect them. And when you watch them struggle every day, you want to make sure they never have to struggle again. The smallest thing to you and me could see him on bedrest for a week.” Or in hospital, almost catatonic. I shrugged. “I’m always gonna worry. It’s just part of who I am.”

  Davo nodded to the front gate. “Well, you can stop worrying for now.”