CHAPTER FIVE
Jasmeen
I shook on my cot.
The sounds of his screaming still throbbed in the quiet room. Agonized cries sounded from his lips. Over and over again. Like he was being tortured. It didn’t stop. He woke up at two in the morning, looked at me, and then his eyes closed, and he screamed bloody murder. On day four, I’d grown used to it. Accustomed to his nightmare. I barely flinched when he cried my name like it was the last thing he’d ever say.
There was talk about inducing him, about committing him, and about strapping him down. I snapped out of my numb stupor. He was injured and in pain, not permanently damaged.
Like our relationship.
I waited for him to wake. I took the time to wash up in the shower that the bathroom housed, and got dressed in whatever I grabbed out of my bag, in that case, gray and black workout pants and a plain white shirt. I wasn’t in the mood for a bra, so I threw my sweatshirt back on. I didn’t realize what was on the front until I walked past the mirror over the sink, and the Washington Warriors logo stared back at me.
I snapped the light off and returned to his room. I found a band in my purse and put my damp hair up, swaying. Besides a cup of coffee that the staff had brought me, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d consumed anything.
The moment Gavin woke up, I was on him. I grabbed his face between my hands and waited for his broken eyes to focus on mine. “You have to stop, Gav. I know you’re in pain, I know you’re probably remembering what happened, I know, okay?” I waited for him to nod. “But the staff doesn’t. They’re not going to put up with you much longer. And you need them right now. You don’t need to be tied down and drugged.”
Panic flared in his eyes. I shook my head fast, warning him. A spark of irritation moved through him. “I can’t help it, Jas.”
“Try. Please.”
His body sagged, and darkness flittered into his gaze. “I can’t stop hearing it,” he murmured, his voice so deep and gravely, it traveled over my spine.
“Hearing what?”
“The propellers,” he whispered, haunted.
It was second nature to protect him, to soothe his pain, to be his salve. But I wasn’t those things anymore, and I didn’t know how to do it. This wasn’t a normal situation. This was new for me, for him, and our heartache. But he did need me. He was paralyzed by what he’d been through. I sucked back my emotions and put on a brave face.
“When you hear the propellers, tell me, and we’ll talk, okay? No matter what time of the day or night it is. We’ll talk to drown out the noises.” I stroked his hair, feeling the tension in his muscles sag. “Deal?”
He nodded almost lethargically. “Thank you,” he rasped.
But he was still in pain. I stepped back and hugged myself, feeling helpless. I promised myself in that moment that I would be what Gavin needed. No matter what it cost me later. “You remember our scale?” I asked.
His eyes cleared for a moment and a small smile lifted his lips. “Our pain scales?”
I nodded, ignoring that smile. It was too familiar. “One, we were okay. Ten, we were in meltdown mode. Teenagers,” I mumbled, shaking my head at us all those years ago.
We had no idea how far we’d fall. Bliss at sixteen was so much easier to fall for than heartache at twenty-two.
“You want to know where I’m at right now?” he guessed.
“Yes,” I answered softly.
His head fell back, and his eyes found mine. “I’m at one hundred.”
Oh, Gavin. “What can I do?” I begged.
He closed his eyes. “Stay with me.”
I nodded. “Okay. I can do that. I’ll call my job and put in leave. I can still close my current loan cases here. I brought my laptop. Will that work?”
He didn’t move. “Pain level’s going down already.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew that side of him well. The man was charismatic in a scary way. Could get me to forgive him for anything. Almost anything, I thought miserably. “Good.” I stood there awkwardly as he lay still for the first time. But his muscles were tense, and I saw the sweat on his brow. He was forcing himself to remain calm when I knew he wasn’t calm.
How could he be? I imagined being in the sky, happy, rich, king, and then falling toward earth with nothing. That alone would send him into a terrible frame of mind. Couple that with his injuries, and he had to be devastated. I wondered if he’d even made the connection that his career was over, at least for a while. He didn’t seem to be. I had a feeling he was still on that helicopter.
Falling.
That was my first task. To pull him out of that helicopter.
“You asleep?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“No,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth.
“Are you hungry? I can go and get some food. Some coffee?”
“I’m not hungry. Which is weird,” he admitted, finally opening his eyes. “I’m always hungry.”
I couldn’t help it. My lips twitched. “Tell me something I don’t know, Gav.” The man was a garbage truck when it came to food. I used to joke that he’d have to go pro just to pay for his food bill alone.
He gave me that same small familiar smile. It was intimate, familiar. He was pulling at the past and I was struggling to remain fully rooted where I stood. In the now. Even if it was bleak and painful.
His smile fell fast. “I don’t want anything, Jas,” he muttered, closing his eyes.
“You need to eat. You need your strength.”
“For what?” I could hear the depression in his tone, something else I was familiar with. “So I can get up and go to practice?” He kicked at his right casted leg with his left heel. “Game’s up, Jassy.”
Jassy. I grabbed for my heart and begged the ache to fade. After I got it down, I swallowed it. It burned, like swallowing fire; the flames danced inside of me, intensifying, never fading. Why would they? They were just happy to be alive. Maybe he did know his career was in danger. “You need your strength to get better.”
He laughed bitterly and pried his eyes open. “Better? There’s no better in this situation. Don’t you get it? It’s all over. Everything.”
Bitter Gavin was also someone I’d already met as well, unfortunately. There was a toxic cloud of emotions in the room. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. “It’s not over, Gavin. Things have been put on a break. Think of it as off season.”
A sad laugh bubbled out of him and he shook his head. He didn’t answer.
I got the point. Shut it. “Should I call the nurses?”
“No,” he blurted out. “No. I don’t want to sleep. Not again. Can’t they give me something that won’t knock me out?”
“I’ll go see, okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
The moment I was free of him, I took a deep breath, and pulled my face together. I found a nurse I was familiar with and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Is there any way he can have some meds that won’t put him to sleep?”
She frowned. “Not with the amount of pain he’s in. Did he ask for that?”
“Yes. I think he’s tired of sleeping,” I lied. I thought the reason he didn’t want to sleep was because he didn’t want to dream.
She brightened. “That’s a good sign. I’ll check with the doctor. Until then, why don’t you try to get some food into him? I can have some sent up for you both?”
“That would be great, thanks.” I gave her a small smile before returning to Gavin’s room.
His eyes snapped to mine immediately. The cuts on his face had turned a mean shade of purple and red, and his lips looked swollen and painfully chapped. The side of his torso was raw and inflamed. His cast’s looked huge and uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable. I could feel the negative energy like the electricity in the air before a storm.
On top of everything, he was stuck, lying in a bed as his nightmares ram rampant.
I hugged myself. I didn’t know what to do for him. The doctor came in a few minutes later, a middle-aged man with a kind, pale face. He probably worked a lot. He moved through the room like it was his second home.
“Mr. Cobalt,” he greeted. He nodded at me. “Dr. Gather. You must be Jasmeen.”
I blushed, wondering how often my name had been screamed, but Gavin just blinked. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.”
“So, I hear you want less pain and less sedatives. I can start you on an oral semisynthetic opioid, but with your injuries there’s the threat of an addiction forming with long term use. Unless you can promise me to monitor your usage.” The doctor looked at him seriously.
Gavin blinked again. “Semi-whata opioid?”
He smiled patiently. “Oxy.”
“Oh,” Gavin replied, thinking what I was thinking. He couldn’t test dirty. “I guess I don’t have any other option.”
“We’ll try that. If the pain won’t subside with the correct dosage, we’re going to have to keep the intravenous morphine.” He filled something out and handed it to me. “Go on down to the pharmacy and have this filled. They’ll rush it. Gavin and I need to talk.”
I got the hint. I grabbed the prescription and glanced at Gav’s worried face. “I’ll be right back,” I promised. “Do you want food?”
“Can’t take those pills on an empty stomach. They’ll burn through your stomach lining,” Doctor Gather chimed in.
Gavin nodded. “Right back,” he ordered quietly.
That was one part of his personality I didn’t know. Gavin never had to demand I stay or even come back, because there had been nowhere else I’d had rather been than with him. Maybe that had been my mistake. Being so openly addicted. He always thought I’d come back, no matter the crime. But some crimes are impossible to forgive.
And they’re usually the love stealing, soul crushing kind.