by Autumn Grey
The door opens at that exact moment, and Elise breezes in with a bag in her hands. Upon seeing me awake, she rushes forward and hugs me tight before pulling back.
“Okay, young lady. You seem healthy enough to talk. First tell me what happened in Chicago. Did you see our fucking monster of a father?”
Nor shakes her head. “First, I need to hear about that man out there.” She narrows her eyes on Elise. “I’m not even going to pretend you and I are cool. You knew about Nate, but you chose not tell me.”
“Don’t do this, Nor,” Elise whines, then tips her nose up in the air and sniffs. “It wasn’t my story to tell. Anyhoo, you should have seen the way Nate handled Rick the Prick. He went all Khal Drogo on Rick’s ass. It was spectacular.”
I bite my lips to stop from laughing when Nor’s eyes widen with excitement and shock. Right there, I know everything is going to be okay. It might take a while for my family to warm up to Nate. I cannot wait for them to know all about this wonderful man with his big heart.
I WATCH NOR AND COLE arguing, signing animatedly. I wish I could understand what they are talking about. If I’m going to survive in this family, I need to learn ASL quick. And I do intend to inject myself into their lives.
Nor stamps her foot and Cole folds his hands across his chest, glaring at her, but his lips twitch as if he’s suppressing a smile. Then she spins around on her sneakers and hurries back toward Elon’s room, but she stops suddenly and faces me, fighting a scowl. It’s eerie how alike the three sisters look: red hair, freckles, pert noses, petite stature, even the way they walk and the stubborn jutting of their jaw when they’re angry.
I brace myself, my lungs starving for air as I wait for her to speak. I’ll do anything to be in her good graces.
“Would you stop seeing her if I asked you to?” she asks, eyes narrowed. Cole rolls his eyes.
Well, anything except that.
“No,” I answer.
She nods and says, “Good answer” before whirling around and marching down the hall.
“Sorry about all this,” I say, exhaling a breath.
Cole eyes my slumped form with a frown and waves his hand, dismissing my apology, but he doesn’t seem as angry as he was hours ago after I came clean about the entire situation. “You look like you could use a coffee. And a shower.” He adds with a grin.
It was difficult at first to understand him, but after spending the past six hours with him glaring and spitting words at me, I’m getting better at this.
I could use a dose of Oxy right now, but he’s offering an olive branch. I’d be foolish not to accept it, so I nod.
As soon as he leaves, I grit my teeth as pain slices through me. My body feels like it’s been tossed around on a hard surface a few times. Every part of me aches, and my right shoulder throbs from the fall when we went down while trying to cushion Elon’s head. I clench my fist to stop the shaking ripping through my body. The doctors offered to give me something for the pain, but I declined. I didn’t want to risk the medication pulling me under. I had to make sure Elon was okay first.
My phone beeps with an incoming message and I dig it out of my pocket. After reading the email confirming that the doctor has brought the date for the surgery forward, I take off my glasses and shove them inside the pocket of my jacket, along with my phone. Then I lean my head back on the plastic seat and try to block out the noises flooding the waiting room.
I called Dr. Rosenburg after leaving Elon’s room and explained about my fall. He sounded worried and suggested rescheduling my surgery. I didn’t see the point in waiting since I won’t finish teaching the semester at Rushmore. In two days, I will be flying to Chicago for the surgery.
Feet shuffle nearby, and I turn my head to see Cole standing in front of me, offering coffee in a paper cup to me. I cock an eyebrow, eyeing the cup.
“Planning my demise?” I tease. “Is there poison in there?”
He smirks and says, “If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it already.”
I laugh, reaching for the cup.
He sits down across from me and leans forward while holding his coffee with both hands.
I take a sip from my cup, then grimace as bile rises up my throat. Coffee isn’t cutting it for me. My body needs its usual fix.
I swallow the liquid in my mouth and set the cup on the table next to me, then take in the man in front of me with features similar to Nick. I can’t help admire the loyalty and love these two men have for my girl. They are heroes in my book.
“I love her,” I say quietly, firmly. “I’d never hurt her.”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love her.” He gulps down his coffee, swallows and says, “Believe me, I know how hard it is to fall in love with the forbidden fruit.”
I remember Elon telling me how her father tried to keep Cole and Nor apart, but I don’t tell him that. My shaking fingers rub down my face, and I make an effort to lift my heavy as rock head off the chair. Cole’s eyebrows dip as he stares at my hands. He probably thinks I’m a junkie or something, which I am, more or less.
Just then Bennett strides toward us, his eyebrows pinched together, and halts in front of me. He dips his hand inside his pocket and sets a yellow bottle in my hand.
“Dude, you look like shit,” he says, as he lowers his heavy bulk on the seat next to mine. “How’s our girl doing?”
“Great, actually. Just a concussion. The doctor says she’ll be okay.” I shake two pills from the bottle and toss them in my mouth, then notice Cole’s frown has deepened. “Got shot in the arm a few years ago. Pain’s a bitch.”
He clears his throat, his gaze moving between me and Bennett.
“Bennett, please be a doll and introduce yourself.” I smirk, then close my eyes and pray that the medication kicks in fast. Then I remember my appointment in Chicago, and open them again. I make sure my face is angled toward Cole, then say, “I need you to do me a favor, Cole. I’m flying to Chicago in a day or two. Take care of my girl.”
“Leaving the crime scene so soon?” he asks.
What the hell?
The bastard thinks I’d abandon Elon after everything we have gone through?
My eyes fly open, and I glare at him. Bennett snickers beside me, shaking his head.
“I’m scheduled for surgery in a few days,” I grit between my teeth, hoping my head won’t explode in the process.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have gone this long without medication.
“You think she’ll let you leave without her?” Cole asks and grins. “If she’s wired the same as Nor, you’re in for one hell of a surprise. Stubborn is their middle name.”
I sigh and shut my eyes again, waiting for my salvation to work its wonders.
“IT’S BEEN THREE HOURS ALREADY since they took Nate in for surgery. Why is it taking so long? Do you think something happened to him?” I wring my hands on my lap.
Elise covers my hands with hers and gives them a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure he’s fine. The doctor said the procedure might take hours.”
At her words, the knot of nerves in my stomach tightens further. “I know. I just wish someone would tell us what’s going on.”
“I’m sure they will as soon as they have news for us.” She pulls me into her with one arm around my shoulder and kisses my hair.
I rest my head on her shoulder, idly glancing around the busy reception area. “Thank you for being here.”
“Like I had a choice,” she teases with a laugh. “Nor literally shackled our wrists together when you refused to back down about flying to Chicago to be with your Naughty Professor.”
I laugh. “I’m glad she did. I’d be a complete mess if I was alone.”
She sighs. “I wish I could stay longer though. I have to go back to work tomorrow. Nate’s mom should be here when I leave. You won’t be alone for long.”
Elise and I arrived in Chicago yesterday afternoon. After dropping our luggage in our allocated room at The Waldorf, courtesy of Nate’s fr
iend, Wade, we took a cab to the hospital. Nate informed the nurses on duty that I was his fiancée, as it was much easier for me to stay with him overnight in his room and also spend time with him before they rolled him into the OR for the surgery.
“I have a great idea,” Elise announces. “We could go back to the hotel and have them call us when Nate comes out of surgery, or we could grab something to eat at the McDonald’s across the street.”
I sit up while shaking my head. “I think I’ll wait in case, you know. . . ”
“Yeah.” She stands up. “Happy Meal as usual?”
I snort-laugh. Elise has been teasing me about my obsession with Happy Meals since I was a kid. “Don’t forget the toy of the month.”
She giggles as she grabs my purse and walks down the hall toward the elevators.
My gaze leaves the darkening sky outside the window and moves to Nate, lying on the bed in front of me. He was cleared by the anesthesiologist three hours ago. Then two nurses brought him into the room about an hour ago. He has been drifting awake on and off since then, demanding groggily for water to drink. The nurse in charge would then place an ice cube on his tongue to combat his thirst.
My eyes keep wandering to his chest every few seconds to check if he’s still breathing.
After sending a quick text to Grace, Izzy, Elise and Nor to let them know that he’s out of surgery and doing well, I lace my fingers with his and kiss the back of his cool hand, then lean my forehead on top of our connected hands and finally shut my eyes.
IT HAS BEEN THREE DAYS since Nate’s surgery. Elise flew back to Florida two days ago, and Grace is currently on the way to the hospital. As soon as she gets here, I’ll head to the Waldorf to shower and change my clothes.
Dr. Rosenburg installed a pump so that Nate could press it whenever the pain became too unbearable. Then last night, Nate requested the doctor get rid of the pump. He wanted to try and train his body to get used to the new pain medication regime, to stop craving it, hoping to eventually break the habit he had acquired over the past three years.
I admire and completely respect his resolution to go cold turkey on this, but seeing the way his body reacts from popping pills hourly to taking the medication every few hours is taking a toll on me. I’ve never seen anyone go through withdrawals, so I have no idea what to expect, and it terrifies me. Seeing this man I love go through this creates an ache deep inside me.
Just then, Nate stiffens on the bed, his body starts thrashing, which jostles his right arm that is in a sling. I bolt from the seat I’ve been sitting on the past four hours and cup his cheek, forcing his eyes to focus on mine.
“Hey, baby. I’m here, OK?”
Sweat pours down his face as his wild eyes focus on me. “I ache everywhere,” he mutters, his teeth chattering. “I’m so cold.”
I kiss his clammy forehead. “I’ll call the nurse to give you something for the pain.”
“No!” he protests, grasping my hand tight, his breathing fast. “No, don’t do that. There’s still one more hour to go before my next dose.”
“I can’t see you like this. You’re going to tear your stitches if you don’t calm down.”
His grip on my hand becomes more desperate. “I want to do this my way. Trust me, I can do this without falling back to the pills to numb the pain.”
“Please tell me what to do,” I beg him.
He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my wrist. “You are already doing it by being here.”
“Do you think a blow job would help?” I tease him, hoping to take his body off the pain wracking through his body.
He laughs, as his body shivers. “Fuck, yeah. Do you think you could be sneaky and go track down a set of scrubs? It’s one of my fantasies, a nurse giving me head.” Even in his weakened state, Nate manages to shoot me a wink.
“That can be arranged.” I snort while crawling up on the bed and curving my body around his left side and hugging his waist. “Is this OK for you?”
He inhales and exhales a few times before saying, “Yeah. It’s perfect.” I hear his teeth gnash, and I know he’s fighting the pain hard. “Elon? Please don’t let the nurse give me another sponge bath. I think she’s enjoying juggling around my balls a little too much.”
My body shakes with laughter, and I feel the terror from before slowly vanish. “She’s just doing her job.”
“You think? I swear I heard her sing to my cock after the doctor removed the catheter this morning.”
“Oh my God!” I’m laughing so hard now, tears leaking from my eyes. “It’s a wonderful cock that deserves to be serenaded.”
He chuckles under his breath. “So how about that blow job, Little Wolf?”
“Dear God, Nathaniel,” Grace’s voice interrupts us, causing me to jerk upright on the bed and scramble off with my cheeks on fire. “There are some things a mother shouldn’t hear. At. All.” She turns to face me, then pulls me into a hug, then mutters, “How is he?”
“Still in pain,” I reply. “But I think he’s going to be okay.”
“Get some rest,” she urges me, while pushing me toward the door.
As soon as Elon leaves, I bolt upright on the bed just as vomit hits the back of my throat. My hand flails wildly on the side of my bed and clutches the bucket one of the nurses brought in half an hour ago. I shove my head inside and empty my stomach for the fourth time since I woke up. Every part of my body aches and I feel as though I’m on fire. The bed dips as my mother sits next to me and takes the bucket from my hands while rubbing my back.
When I’m done, I lift my head and grab a few tissues from the nightstand while my mother leaves the room with the bucket.
After wiping my mouth, I lay back on the pillows with my eyes closed. The last few days have been hard. The doctor said it might take about a week to almost a month to get the toxins out of my system.
Every waking hour has been a battle. But I won’t give in. I intend to win this war. Every time I see the worry in Elon’s eyes, I almost cave in and beg the doctor to give me something stronger to relieve the pain and satisfy my craving. Every time I see how proud she is when a day goes by without succumbing to the hunger for pain pills, I feel like I’ve already won the war.
My mother returns with water in a glass and hands it to me. Then she grabs a wet cloth from the nightstand, and wipes the sweat off my forehead. “I’m so proud of you,” she says, smiling down at me.
All I can manage is a faint smile, before shutting my eyes as exhaustion drags me under.
The last thing on my mind before I fall asleep is; I can do this. I’ve spent the last three years in pain far worse than what I’m currently going through.
I can do this.
I SNAP AWAKE SOMETIME IN the middle of the night to the feel of pain stabbing my bicep, but it’s not as brutal as it was three weeks ago. Today is officially the eighth week since the surgery.
After I was released from the hospital in Chicago, Dr. Rosenburg referred me to a Dr. James Ashford, who heads the pain management clinic here in Jacksonville. Dr. Ashford had been tapering me off the medication, and so far, everything has worked out great. One thing is for sure: I couldn’t have done this without Elon and my family. I know I’m not out of the woods yet. I’m giving this all I can because seeing Elon smile at the end of each day is everything to me. Besides, she’s been rewarding my success with blow jobs and mind-blowing sex. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
At my side, Elon snores loudly, and that sound soothes me. With my palm cupping her ass cheek, I stare at the ceiling, mentally counting the lights reflected from the street lamp outside the window of my room. I’ll never tire of feeling her soft, warm body wrapped around my hard one. Despite our difference in stature, we fit perfectly, like we were meant to be each other’s lock and key.
Her hand, resting a few inches from my crotch, twitches. She moans softly and snuggles closer into me. Images of her fingers wrapping around my cock flash inside my head, and I groan.
I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand and notice it’s already three in the morning, officially my girl’s birthday.
Shifting on the bed to sit in a comfortable position without jolting my shoulder, I squeeze her sweet ass until she makes a sound between a moan and sigh. Her eyes flutter open, the pure innocence in them sending my heart racing.
“It’s officially July 9th, sweetheart,” I whisper, kissing her hair. “Happy birthday, Elon.”
“Thank you, lover.” She yawns and stretches, her mouth pulling into a smile as her fingers graze my painfully hard cock. “Looks like I’m going to treat myself to a super early birthday present.”
She wraps her fingers around me and moves her hand up and down in slow, firm strokes. “How are you feeling? Are you up for some 3 a.m. sex?”
“Fuck yeah,” I growl, watching as she sits up and straddles my thighs.
She leans down and licks my neck and starts singing, “Happy birthday to me,” while trailing kisses on my collarbone, down my chest. She swirls her tongue around my nipple, then nips it. By the time she finishes singing the song, her mouth hovers above my cock as she looks at me through her lashes.
I grip her hip with my left hand and tug her forward. She scoots up, lifting on her heels and aligning her pussy to my cock. “Always ready for anytime sex with you,” I murmur, sliding my hand up to cup her neck and pull her down for a kiss.
She lowers herself on top of me, teasing me as she strokes the head of my cock against her wet heat. My jaw clenches, my heels digging on the bed as my hips thrust up.
“I need inside you, Little Wolf,” I grunt, my fingers digging into her skin.
She leans down and kisses my jaw, the corner of my lips, then straightens. “Tsk tsk, Professor Rowe. My birthday, my rules.”
“I love it when you call me that.” I twist my torso, but the movement jolts my right arm.
Motherfucker.
As if sensing my reaction, she freezes on top of me. “You okay?”