“I’m her brother.”
“And I’m her boyfriend.”
Fuck me. I roll my eyes as the boys get into it and hold out a hand for Shay. She takes it and I lift myself off the bed and get comfortable in the wheelchair. Shay carefully places my sketchpad down on my lap and hooks my bag of necessities over her arm.
She starts wheeling me out of the room as Slade pins my brother to the wall with a scathing glare. The two of them looking absolutely furious with one another as we roll right by them. “Bye guys, see you at home,” I sing as we head for the door.
Their heads flick down to me as they watch Shay effortlessly roll me out of the room. “See?” Shay laughs. “Who needs men? We can handle this shit on our own.”
“Damn straight, sister.”
“Hey, wait up,” Slade calls, racing out the door to catch up to us as Blake trails out behind him. Slade practically shoves Shay out of the way and takes over pushing while Blake rids her of my bag and pulls it over his arm. The two of them looking proud of themselves as Shay shakes her head at their overprotective douchebaggery.
“Freaking boys,” I mutter under my breath, earning myself a gentle warning jolt from Slade who clearly heard exactly what I just said.
We get out to Shay’s car and this time, the boys don’t get distracted by their testosterone. Slade brings me right next to the passenger’s door and swings it wide while Blake takes my sketchpad off my lap and puts all of my things in the back.
Despite being able to stand and hop my way in, Slade still takes it an extra step and scoops me out of the chair before physically placing me in Shaylee’s car. He buckles me in and within seconds of him moving away, I unclip my seat belt and reclip it twice before finally settling into my seat.
I glance over at Shaylee who I find has been watching me. She gives me a sad smile, reaching over to squeezes my knee. “It’ll get easier,” she promises.
“I hope so.”
The boys get in and as I turn to see their long limbs squished into the back seat, I find it hard to keep a straight face. Slade rolls his eyes behind me and stretches out, gently grabbing the back of my neck. He doesn’t move his hand and I have a feeling it’s going to stay right there, his thumb rubbing up and down until we get home.
Shay is quick to get a move on. She drives extra cautiously while trying to make it fast so Slade and I don’t have to spend too long in a moving vehicle, though Slade looks pretty damn relaxed to me. Maybe it’s just me struggling.
The whole way home, I sit with one hand curled around the back of my head, my fingers laced through Slade’s while the other clutches the release for the seatbelt, ready and prepared to bail out of this moving death box at a second’s warning.
We get back home and I’m not surprised when Slade rushes around to my door and tears it open. Shay is quick to hurry and unlock the front door while Blake happily grabs my belongings from the back.
Slade scoops me out of the car, still being careful not to jostle me too much. My ribs are still hurting and probably will be for a while but the open wound that used to have a bullet lodged inside of it is steadily beginning to heal. Don’t get me wrong, my leg is certainly pissed off for having been disturbed from its usual happy, toned awesomeness.
I’m man-handled all the way inside until I’m being placed down in my welcoming bed. I instantly sink into it. God, I’ve missed this. There’s nothing quite like coming home to your own bed, especially after a week spent in a hospital.
My hand immediately slips under my pillow and I let out a relieved sigh as my fingers curl around my knife. Slade snuck into the hospital every night to sleep with me and didn’t leave until one of the nurses had to physically remove him, but I don’t think Shay is going to be quite so accepting of that. It’s just going to be me and my knife for a while.
I get myself comfortable and within minutes, Shay is rushing around, placing a glass of orange juice down on my bedside table, dragging in an old box filled to the brim with her old DVDs, pain-killers galore get piled high beside the orange juice and at least four blankets and seven pillows get shoved on my bed.
Slade makes himself at home and pushes in beside me while getting frustrated with all the pillows now in his way. He pulls me into his arms and I snuggle into his chest while reaching for the Netflix remote. I managed to tick a whole bunch of shows off my ‘to be watched’ list during my hospital stay and if I’m stuck staying home for the foreseeable future, then I plan on completely catching up.