Thayer rolled her eyes and took the chart, handing Dana her coffee. “Another virgin birth. Hallelujah.”
Rachel pulled her car in behind Corey’s truck and parked.
“Thanks for getting my truck back.”
“Wasn’t me.” Rachel grabbed the bag of her stuff and got out coming around to the passenger side.
“Thayer.” Corey sighed as she stepped slowly out of the car and stood, wobbling for a moment, until she could straighten and gain her balance.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure Thayer rode with you in the ambulance. I think Sergeant Collier had an officer drive it back after they collected the evidence they needed.”
Corey thought about that as they made their way slowly into her place. Thayer holding her hand, bossing around the paramedics. She was sexy as hell when she was being professional. She couldn’t help the smile that snuck up on her. She cleared her throat. “Right. Sergeant Collier. I haven’t had the chance to ask you about that.”
Rachel groaned theatrically as she let them in. “I was hoping that was part of your memory loss.” She dropped the bag and Corey’s keys on the counter. “I’ll tell you over dinner, but it’s not really table talk. Are you hungry?”
It hadn’t occurred to her that she was hungry until she noticed how wonderful her condo smelled. Lasagna and garlic bread if she was right. “Did you make snacks, you big softie? I didn’t even know you cooked.”
“I don’t.” Rachel walked with her to the dining table. “This one is all Thayer. Her grandmother’s recipe I think she said. Hang on and I’ll get you a plate.”
Corey sank painfully onto a chair, the weight of her heart pressing her down. Thayer stayed away, respecting her request for space. She had far too much class and self-respect to do otherwise, but she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t care so she had made her dinner for her first day home. Corey wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. “Thanks,” she managed as Rachel set a steaming plate of lasagna before her.
“I hope you don’t think I’m not going to drink because you can’t.” Rachel returned with a beer for herself and water for Corey.
“Never crossed my mind.”
She stared at her plate of meaty lasagna with melty cheese and wondered how much time Thayer had spent making it. Corey wasn’t much of a cook herself but she loved to barbecue, especially in the summer. Her brain went off the rails to images of Thayer, a glass of wine in her hand, relaxing on her back deck while Corey grilled steaks. They laughed as they shared stories from college and places they’d traveled.
“You can call her, you know. Let her know you’re home.” Rachel wasted no time diving into her food. “You have the technology and I know she would like to hear from you.”
Corey snapped back to reality. “And you know that because you’ve spoken with her recently?”
Rachel took a long pull of her beer, looking at her over her bottle. “Yes.”
Corey nodded and started on dinner. “Thought so.” It was delicious and the most she had eaten since the accident. “Tell me about Collier.”
“Shit.” Rachel grimaced and ate a few more bites before finishing her beer. She got up and got another one before starting her story. “You met his son Andrew?”
“Once or twice.”
“We were in JCU together as freshmen before I dropped out. Before you moved back here.” She paused and worked on her beer.
Corey’s drug-addled mind wasn’t that addled. “You and Andrew?”
“You’ve seen him,” Rachel answered as if that explained everything.
“Yeah, he is a good-looking guy.” Corey grinned. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Rachel shrugged. “We were dating, having fun, you know. He had a place off campus and I was there when his father showed up unannounced one night with surprise hockey tickets. Well, he had a key and let himself in.”
“Oh, shit. What did you do?”
“Swallowed fast.” Rachel raised her bottle with a smirk.
Corey blinked at her before her words registered and she started to laugh, gripping her side. “What did Collier do?”
“Well, he didn’t arrest me for blowing his son if that’s what you’re thinking, but if you’ve ever looked up the word awkward I’m pretty sure that image is there.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Corey’s happy homecoming was short-lived as she was wrenched violently from her first night in her own bed. She stumbled to the bathroom, vomited her dinner, and collapsed in the bathroom from a brutal, disabling headache until Rachel could get her meds into her and Corey could keep them down. Rachel held her on the tile floor while Corey shook and cried from the pain until she calmed enough to be helped back to bed, finally finding peace with heavily sedated sleep.
Her physical health should have been improving, but her mental state deteriorated rapidly, leaving her listless and dispirited. Despite Rachel’s herculean efforts to engage and enliven her with offers to go out, go to the gym, or simply take a walk around the neighborhood, Corey continued to spiral down.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Rachel called as she dropped her keys on the bar. She stopped short when she saw Corey sacked out on the sofa. “Jesus Christ, have you even moved, today? Or, yesterday? When is the last time you took a shower?” She glared at the television. “You haven’t even changed the movie.” She sighed, her gaze scanning the apartment. “What the fuck, Corey?”
Corey dragged dull, drowsy eyes to her. “What?”
Rachel shook her head as she perched on the armchair. “When you said you wanted someone you didn’t have to pretend with, and you pushed Thayer away because you didn’t want her to see you like this, I thought you meant you didn’t want her to see you struggle or be in pain. Not when you were just getting to know each other and just starting your courtship. I totally got that. And, by the way, she did too, and she’s waiting patiently for you to get it together because I told her you were worth it.”
Corey glared at her, her throat tightening at the reminder of how she had hurt Thayer. “What’s your point?”
“My point,” Rachel stood and swiped at a stack of takeout cartons, scattering them across the floor, “is that I’m not your fucking nursemaid. I came here to help you get well, not enable you to wallow in your own filth and self-pity. I get that you’re tired and hurting and pissed off, but this is not who you are. There are things you could be doing to help with the headaches, and it just so happens one of those things is stretching and exercise, something I know you enjoy.”
“Get real, Rachel.”
“All right,” Rachel said bitterly. “How’s this for real? I’m going home for a couple hours. I told the girls I’d work with them on their takedowns tonight. You know, the girls who think you walk on water? I’m going to stop back by here on my way over to the gym. If nothing has changed, I swear to Christ, Corey, I love you, you know I do, but I’m not coming back. This is bullshit, and you fucking well know it.”
Corey struggled to sit up, her eyes widening at Rachel’s tongue-lashing. “Wait—”
“And on my way out I’m going to call Thayer and tell her to move on. That I was wrong and she could do better than wasting her time on a selfish piece of shit like Corey Curtis.” She snatched her keys from the bar. “Fucking real enough for you?” she yelled as she slammed the door.
Corey sat on the edge of the sofa and ran her hand through her greasy hair. “Fuck.” She trembled slightly at Rachel’s rage while her words still reverberated around the room and through her head, every single one of them a sharp strike to what was left of her pride and self-respect.
Her jaw clenched and unclenched in anger, not at Rachel but at herself, as she pushed herself to her feet and went in search of a trash bag before she turned off the television and put on some music.
By the time she was finished picking up and cleaning, she was drenched in sweat, her ribs aching mercilessly, but she was determined to be ready when Rachel returned. She had disgraced herself and t
heir friendship, and she would never forgive herself if she didn’t make things right.
She navigated the shower, her cast wrapped in plastic and sticking out the curtain while she washed her hair twice. She struggled into jeans for the first time and pulled a T-shirt over her head, threading her cast through the sleeve.
She hadn’t heard Rachel come back and was startled to see her as she limped her way back downstairs, her sneakers in her right hand, her cast tucked up against her ribs. “Hey.”
Rachel looked around the tidy living room and kitchen before meeting Corey’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”
She winced as she lowered herself onto the sofa and dropped her sneakers in front of her, aiming her feet into them without bending over. “No, you’re not.”
Rachel nodded and crouched in front of her, helping her into her shoes and lacing them up. “No, I’m not.” She sat back on her heels and looked at her friend, her pain obvious. “I’ll get you something for the pain.”
“No.” Corey wanted to be free of the drugs. “I’ll be all right.”
“Don’t, Corey,” Rachel scolded as she rose. “I made my point and you heard me. It’s true, you don’t have to pretend with me, okay?”
“Okay.” Corey managed a smile and took the tablets Rachel handed her with a bottle of water.
“Where are you going anyway?” Rachel asked.
“With you.”
“Holy shit, it’s Corey.” The blonde nudged the brunette.
“Corey, you’re back,” the brunette exclaimed as she caught sight of the two of them.
“Which one is which?” Corey murmured through her smile as they made their way toward the ring. On her best day she had to struggle to remember who was Emily and who was Emma.
“Emma is the cute one,” Rachel replied under her breath.
Her gaze darted between them—both small, fit, and the kind of adorable only college-age girls with names like Emily and Emma could be. “You’re a bitch and I hate you,” Corey hissed.
Rachel laughed as they approached. “Hey, Emily, hey, Emma,” she greeted them, clearly indicating who was who and gave Corey a wink.
“Corey, oh, my god, how are you?” Emily, the blonde, gripped Corey’s good arm. “When did you get out of the hospital?”
“I’m better, Emily, thank you.” Corey smiled at her. “I’ve been out a few days.”
“When are you getting back in the ring?” Emma asked. “Guess it will be a while yet, huh?” She smoothed a hand over Corey’s cast in a flirty gesture.
“Um…” Corey swallowed. “Yeah, it was a clean break but still five more weeks.”
“Oh, no one has signed it yet.” Emma noticed, her eyes lighting up. “Can I be the first? There’s a marker in the equipment room.” She ran off without waiting for an answer.
“Come on, Emily.” Rachel nodded toward the ring. “Let’s get started.”
Corey wandered around the gym, greeting the other women she knew and meeting some women she didn’t, talking a bit about the case since it was public knowledge, and answering questions about her injuries and recovery. She had to admit it was good to be back and she felt better, stronger, and more at peace just being here. She wouldn’t have ever guessed how much her gym community was a part of her identity until she was denied it for so long.
She brushed her fingertips across the free weights, passing over the twenty-five-pound weight she would normally curl and picking up a fifteen. She sat on the bench and managed ten repetitions with her right arm before her protesting ribs could no longer be ignored. Still, it was a start and she planned to come back in the morning. At the heavy bag, Emma caught up with her.
“Found it.” She held up a black permanent marker and grinned mischievously. “May I?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Corey held her arm out as best she could. She tried to see what Emma was writing, since it took a really long time, but the young woman was careful to block Corey’s line of sight.
“Done.” Emma grinned, her eyes flashing brightly. “What do you think?”
Corey looked down. She had drawn a surprisingly well-crafted image of kissing lips and little hearts so Corey could see it. Next to it she had written something about kissing it better and then her name. Corey jerked her gaze away. “Uh, you’re a pretty good artist.”
“I’m pretty good at a lot of things.” Emma smiled seductively, her intentions clear. “You’re right-handed, correct?”
“I, uh, yes,” Corey stammered and held up her hand. “I am, yes. Actually, I was going to try throwing a few punches. Do you mind holding the bag for me?” It wasn’t altogether a lie and the first thing that popped into her head to distract Emma.
“Sure.” Emma stepped behind the bag, holding it with her arms and body and peering around the side. “I’m ready whenever you are, Corey.”
Corey cleared her throat and pretended she didn’t understand the double meaning. “Thanks.” She moved into a modified fighting stance, left leg forward and left arm up as much as the cast would allow, and right hand fisted at the ready. She moved slowly, twisting her body with careful deliberation as she exhaled and her right fist made contact with the bag. A flash of pain through her chest had her canting to the left until it passed.
“Are you all right?” Emma eyed her with real concern. “Maybe you shouldn’t—”
“No. It’s fine.” Corey was determined now. It hurt but felt good to work her body again.
She put a little bounce into her stance and got her arms up again. She hit the bag with more force, putting some weight behind it. Her vision wavered and she swayed with pain as the image of Mark Guilford coalesced in her mind—on his knees, a hand grabbing at his crotch as he tried to rise. She put everything she had behind that swing and he went down. She saw Thayer trapped on the scaffolding, watching her with frantic eyes and then relief as he went down and was still. She smiled at Thayer and then felt her stomach drop.
“Corey!”
She couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to and she felt an arm go around her waist and move her, hands guiding her to sit on something hard. A bench at the gym.
“Rachel,” Emma yelled.
She sucked in deep breaths, her muscles spasming and her stomach turning over but settling after a moment. She massaged the back of her neck. “I’m okay.”
“Hey, Cor, what’s going on?” Rachel was there, kneeling in front of her. A few of the other women stood nearby.
“I’m okay.” She exhaled, keeping her eyes closed. “I just remembered something from the accident and it overwhelmed me, I think.”
“Are you getting a headache?” Rachel asked with concern.
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.” She cracked her eyes. She squinted against the light. Her pain didn’t get worse, but it didn’t get better either.
“We should go.” Rachel started pulling off her gloves.
“No.” Corey covered her hands with her own. “This isn’t going to control my life.”
“Corey—”
“I’m okay, Rachel,” Corey insisted. “I’ll just sit. Finish your training.”
Rachel considered. “Are you sure? Because I’m the one who’s going to have to clean it up if your head explodes.”
“I’m sure.” Corey smiled. “I need to deal. I’ll be okay.”
Rachel grinned. “Atta girl.”
Chapter Thirty
Each day Corey waited until the morning rush was over at the gym. She didn’t want to be in anyone’s way, attract a lot of attention, or struggle in front of too many people. She was limited in what she could do still, but she made use of the free weights and all the leg machines and spent a lot of time stretching. It was exhausting and painful and Corey was determined to get it done every morning before she did anything else. Her stubbornness was rewarded with daily improvement, which made the next day that much easier.
After only a week she noticed a difference in the intensity of her pain. She was on the right track and intended to call the physical the
rapy department and make her first appointment, which was what she was thinking about when she nearly hit the car parked in front of her condo.
She eyed it through the windshield, a silver metallic Toyota Camry hybrid—Anna’s car. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her ex since she’d stood Anna and her parents up for dinner and now she was sitting on her front step. Anna looked up from her phone as Corey got out of her truck.
“Hi.” Anna slipped her phone into her briefcase and stood, brushing off the slacks of her suit.
“Hi.” Corey studied her. She looked exactly the same—cool, beautiful, and serious. Her straight, dark hair pinned up in the back and her suit expertly tailored.
Anna looked her over. “You look better than I expected.”
“Um, thanks, I guess.”
“That didn’t come out right.” Anna smiled. “How are you?”
“Better than I expected.” Corey offered with a smile. “Did you want to come in?”
Anna glanced at the front door, considering. “I don’t think so. I still have a few minutes, though.” She gestured to the front step and resumed her seat.
“Yeah, sure.” Corey eased next to her, unable to totally stifle a grunt of pain.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she assured her. “Just a little sore.”
Anna took a deep breath. “I saw what happened on the news. I couldn’t believe it when they started talking about you. I had a few people over at the time and I dropped my wineglass when your name came up, shattering it all over the floor. Like you see in the movies.”
She laughed. “Sorry to ruin your dinner party.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Anna sighed. “I was worried about you. No matter what happened between us, Corey, I do care about you.”
Corey winced. “Anna, I’m sorry about—”
“I didn’t come here for an apology. I’m not angry anymore. It was never right with us and I knew it too. I could have called it anytime, but I didn’t.”
“Okay. How are you?”
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