Page 31 of Man of Honor
“I can handle it," I insisted.
“Handle it?” Wyatt echoed incredulously, as if he couldn't believe his ears.He gestured toward the battered, broken bodyI couldn’t even keep upright on his couch.“Is that what you call this?Handlingit?Gage, you can barely sit up. You’re bleeding all over my couch, and you want me to believe you’ve got things under control?You might have yourself fooled—but not me.You’re not bulletproof, and one of these days, you’re going to run out of luck.You need to let me help you. Just this once.”
I shook my head, wincing when the world spun, and sinking deeper into the overstuffed cushions.“Why do you think I’m here? I’ll let you help me, Wyatt.But only you. The best thing you can do is let this stay between us.”
He stared down at me, grinding his teeth so hard I could hear it from where I sat.I’d never seen him so blazing mad.I held my breath, waiting him out, willing him to understand.
After a long beat, he exhaled heavily, dragging a hand through his hair.“Fine,” he bit out. “But you’re not walking out of here until I say so.From this moment on, you’re my prisoner.You do what I say, when I say it, and you don’t leave until I’m sure you can stand on your own two feet again.If things take a turn, you're going to the hospital whether you like it or not.”
That didn't sound good. I wanted to fight him on it, but my brain was mush.Bone-deep weariness was setting into every muscle and every thought.Maybe I didn’t want to fight so badly after all.Maybe I wanted to close my eyes and let someone else carry the weight for a while.Wyatt was good at that. Always had been.He’d been my rock since day one, and he'd only ever let me down once.
“Okay,” I said wearily. “You’ve got a deal.”
Wyatt didn’t waste a second. He went straight to the kitchen, opened a cabinet under the sink, and pulled out a monster firstaid kid.I'd never seen anything like it.Thrusting a clean dish towel under the faucet, he barked, "Take off your shirt."
It was a simple command, and I tried—I really did.I propped myself up on my good arm, ignoring the pain that detonated through my chest, and started working on the buttons with sluggish, unsteady fingers.Wyatt's stare was a lead weight on the back of my head, but I paid him no attention, focused only on my task.My hand didn't want to cooperate.I'd only managed two buttons by the time he returned with the supplies.
Impatiently, he brushed my fingers away and finished the buttons with a few flicks of thumb and forefinger.In another time and another place, I might have found it sexy, but the moment I tried to shrug off the shirt, a searing pain tore through my shoulder.I cried out before I could stifle it.Sweat broke out all over my body, and my stomach lurched, ready to climb up my throat and flop into my lap if I so much as twitched.
Wyatt’s hands were there in an instant, steadying me.“Gage, hold still,” he commanded, all hard edges.“That shoulder’s dislocated.”
“Just—just help me get it off,” I gritted out, dripping in painsweat.It felt like my shoulder was being cut in half with achainsaw.
Wyatt’s eyes met mine, and this time he didn’task.He knelt beside me on the couch and gripped my arm with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he wasdoing.“Don’t bite your tongue,” he warnedharshly.“This is gonnahurt.”
Chapter Fifteen
GAGE
With one swift,practiced movement, he pushed and rotated my arm at the same time.The pain was brutal, and an agonized moan tore out of my throat.Suddenly, with a sickening pop, the joint slid back into place.The relief was so intense it left me gasping.
"Holy shit..."
Wyatt’s grip held firm until he was sure the joint was stable, then he eased me back against the cushions.When he spoke, his voice had softened, like he understood exactly the kind of pain I was going through.“There you go,” he soothed, calm and deep, like he moonlighted as an ASMR streamer in his off time.“Just breathe.”
I managed a long, quivering exhale through pursed lips.The pain had already receded to little more than a dull throb.“Neat trick,” I said with a shaky grin.
He didn't smile. “What started the fight?” he asked, wiping blood from my face with a damp cloth, touching me with far more care than I deserved.
I gave an awkward one-shouldered shrug, managing a laugh that sounded fake even to me.“Probably should stick to street fights.I’m not exactly the knight in shining armor type.All it does is get me into trouble.”
He paused, then continued wiping away grime with such calm, methodical precision it unnerved me.I still had to be careful with my shoulder, but with his help, I finished shimmying the shirt down my arms.He rinsed blood from my neck and chest, then carefully tipped me forward to check my back.I couldn’t see his expression, but the sudden, sharp intake of breath told me everything I needed to know.He sounded shaken when he whispered, "Christ, Gage..."
I offered a lopsided grin. “At least I’ve s-still got my pretty smile.”
It was hard to finish sentences in this position.Pain radiated through my ribs and back, throbbing in time with my heartbeat.Every muscle felt like it had been shredded and sewn back together wrong.I dug my fingers into the arm of the couch until the leather squeaked, forcing all my pitiful noises to stay behind my teeth where they belonged.
"What is it?" Wyatt asked, voice tight with concern.
“Nothing,” I aimed for a chuckle, but it came out as a wheeze.“Just…stiff.”
“Yeah,” he muttered darkly, clearly not buying the bravado.He turned and disappeared somewhere behind me, but I was too miserable to pay much attention.All I knew was that his footsteps retreated toward the back of the house.I stayed hunched over, tracking his sounds, using them to ground myselfthrough the pain.Clicks and thuds followed his footsteps, then the faint rush of water.
When he returned a moment later, he knelt wordlessly in front of me and unbuttoned my jeans.I stared down at his bent head, dazed, as he began working them gently down my hips.Keeping a sense of humor despite the pain was exhausting, but I couldn't let the moment slip without comment.
“U-usually takes a few drinks before I get to this part,” I whispered, smirking weakly.
He didn’t bite. Not this time.His expression was unamused as he slid my jeans and underwear all the way off my legs.“You’ll have time for jokes later,” he said flatly.