Page 49 of Warrior's Walk
“All right,” Riggs addresses us. “We’re two men short today. Mandy is recovering, and Pharo is deployed, so if we finish a few minutes early, it’s understandable. Who wants to kick us off?”
West raises his hand. “I’ll go first.” He shares another look with Brandt, who nods at him before continuing. “I’ve been training for the Warrior’s Walk, and it’s kicking my ass. But also, I’m grateful I’m far enough in my recovery that I’m even able to train for it. A couple months ago, that wouldn’t even have been a possibility. It got me thinking about when I first started PT, when I met Riggs. I had zero hope that I would ever recover enough to even walk, let alone train for something like that. You promised me,” he says to Riggs.
“You promised that someday I could run and jump, and even snowboard if I wanted, and I thought you were fucking high,” he laughs. “You never let me down, never stopped believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. Neither of you did,” West says, placing his hand on Brandt’s knee. They share a look full of meaning that gets me right in my heart.
“I had a real lack of motivation when I first started out, and I remember Riggs told me he had a theory that he used sexual desire to motivate his patients. I thought he was coming onto me.” He laughs. “It sounds ridiculous, but he was right; it worked like a charm. He asked me if my dick still worked.”
“West,” Riggs warns. “Is this necessary?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a point I’m trying to make.”
“Then make it,” Riggs snaps.
“Anyway, that night in the shower, my buddy here,” he slaps Brandt’s leg, “helped me figure out if my dick still worked.”
McCormick cracks up. “Let me guess, it worked perfectly.”
“You bet it did,” West winks. “But Riggs was right. Sexual desire is a great motivator for recovery. When Brandt startedplaying with my dick, I never wanted him to stop, which meant?—”
“West,” Riggs barks.
“I swear I’m making a point,” he laughs. “Which meant that I had to work twice as hard in the gym so I could start fucking again. Anyway, I just want to say thank you for asking about my dick, Riggs.”
I laugh along with the rest of the guys, but Riggs isn’t laughing.
Nash goes next. “Yeah, this training is kicking my ass, but that’s a good thing. I think I was getting complacent with my workout, because now I’m soreeverywhere. Much like West, I had a real lack of motivation when I first started therapy with Riggs, and he gave me the same advice. If you want to have sex again, you better start working harder. I’ve busted my ass in that gym every goddamn day because I had a mission, and his name is Brewer. Unfortunately, my dick was broken, but not from an injury. It was because of my head. And just like I worked hard in the gym, I worked even harder in therapy, trying to overcome that roadblock between my head and my dick.”
Riggs interrupts. “Listen guys, I’m notDr. Ruthand this isn’t sex therapy.”
“I’ve got a point, Riggs, I promise,” Nash laughs. Riggs glares at him as he finishes speaking. “My point is, it may sound like crazy advice, but he knows what he’s doing. Riggs is the best therapist there is, and when he asks you if your dick is working, just go with it.”
McCormick shares a similar story, and by this time he’s finished, Riggs is breathing fire. He’s pissed, but not as pissed as I am.
How come I never got that speech?
He’s never once asked if my dick works.
Maybe because it clearly does, but these guys are right. Sexisa great motivator to recover. And Riggs hasn’t pushed me like that, not once.
The meeting wraps up early, and the guys high-five each other as they head out. I remain seated as Riggs starts stacking the chairs, banging the metal legs loudly together as he takes out his frustration.
“Is there a reason you’re sticking around?” he asks tersely.
I’m angry, but also, I just feel… alone.Lonely. I’m so far away from where I want to be with him, I’m justnowhere. “Don’t you want to know if my dick works?”
“It clearly does because you were rock hard the other night when I helped you to bed.”
He caught that? My bad. “So how come I’ve never heard this speech from you? Or do you only save it for your special patients?”
Riggs loses his tether on his temper and throws the chair. It bounces across the linoleum floor. “By all means, Rhett, if you want to get fucked, then that’s what you should do. You should push yourself even harder in the gym. When you’re on your knees for some guy and he’s slamming into you from behind, I hope you think of me and send me a silent thanks for getting you to where you want to be. Or better yet, when you’re with a girl, and she’s riding your cock, juicing it up real good, and she asks you to flip her over, you can think of me, and thank me for being able to fuck her the right way.”
He picks up the chair he threw and stacks it with the rest. I’m fucking speechless. I can’t believe he said that. Definitely not where I thought this conversation would lead, and now I’m even more pissed off.
He’s fuckingjealous. The thought of me on my knees clearly angers him. Is that why he didn’t suggest I use sexual desire tomotivate my recovery?It has to be. So why does he keep fucking denying me?
He storms out before I can ask, and like a fool, I just keep sitting here, replaying his words in my head. Finally, I pack up my paper and head out, but I don’t make it far. Riggs is standing just outside the door, leaning against the wall with his head in his hands. He snags my arm as I pass.
“Rhett, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say those things, and you don’t…”