Losers Weepers Page 3

  Josie’s whole face froze, and then it creased into deep lines before the waterworks flooded on all over again.

  “Nice analogy,” Rowen muttered at me, patting Josie’s back more furiously to match her sobs. “Asshole,” she tacked on when Josie started shaking.

  “Hey, I’m the one on my back in a hospital bed trying to figure out what happened, and I’m the asshole?” I went to throw my hands in the air, but they stayed plastered to the bed. That was when everything came together. Like, all the way came together. “My back.” I concentrated on Rowen because I couldn’t keep looking at Josie in her current state and feeling totally helpless. “It’s broken, isn’t it?”

  Rowen took one long breath before she replied. “They’re not sure.” She diverted her eyes long enough to make panic settle into my stomach.

  If even the iron fortress Rowen Sterling-Walker couldn’t look me in the eye, it had to be bad. I’d witnessed her barely blink when I had to put a calf out of its misery last spring when she and Jesse had been in town visiting. A baby fucking calf had been crying in pain one moment and dead the next, and the girl hadn’t even flinched. That she was flinching and avoiding eye contact with me now was one of the least welcome signs I’d ever seen.

  “They wanted to do X-rays when you arrived, but the doctor was afraid to move you too much. He said that he’d try if you woke up.” Rowen caught herself and gave a single shake of her head. “When you woke up.”

  “Rowen . . .” I swallowed, my throat no longer feeling dry. It felt as if it had been stuffed with wet cement and I couldn’t choke it down. “Give it to me straight. Please.”

  Jesse was still facing the wall, but now his forehead was leaning into it. Josie had stopped sobbing, and she looked as though she was frozen in some shell of shock. Rowen and I were the only ones in the room still in possession of our wits, although they were both fraying. I wasn’t sure if hers or mine would run out first.

  “Am I paralyzed?”

  God bless that girl for not blinking or looking away or sucking in a heavy breath. God bless Josie for giving a final sniffle, rolling her shoulders back, and crouching beside the bed so her face was level with mine. I had to check because I couldn’t feel it, but her hand was still securely fastened in mine. God bless Jess for shoving off that favorite wall of his, turning to face me, bracing his hands around the foot rail of my bed, and looking at me so straight on. I knew the big city hadn’t worked its way too far into him yet.

  “They don’t know, baby,” Josie whispered, her voice as hoarse as mine. “The doctor said there was no way of knowing for sure until they did the X-rays.”

  I nodded and tried working up a smile for her. I knew she needed one. I could tell she was desperate to be comforted and told everything would be okay. That smile took more effort than it should have. “Did the doctor say anything about what it would mean if I woke up feeling . . .” I moved my head—it felt stiff and tender, but I could move it. When I tried moving my arm, my leg, or even my toes, I came up empty. “If I woke up feeling nothing from my neck down?” I filled my lungs, searching for a scrap of courage I could hang on to while I talked with my girlfriend about the possibility of being paralyzed from the neck down. “What it might mean if I woke up not being able to move anything at all?”

  Josie glanced back at Rowen, her forehead creasing as if she wasn’t sure how to answer.

  Rowen dropped her hand onto Josie’s shoulder and stepped closer. “The doctor said we wouldn’t know anything for sure until he got the X-rays. That’s the only way of knowing for sure if you broke . . . something.”

  “If I broke my back, you mean?”

  After a moment, Rowen nodded. “That’s a possibility, but he also said you could have just suffered some trauma to your spine that might take some time and therapy to heal—”

  “Cut the sugarcoating, Sterling-Walker. Give it to me straight. The way you always do. I can take it.” When my eyes closed, I forced them to reopen. I wouldn’t skulk away from this. I would grab it by the horns and wrestle it to the ground until I’d forced it into submission. “What else did the doctor say that you’re too chicken to tell me?”

  That comment got the reaction I was hoping for. The skin between Rowen’s brows pinched together as she glowered at me for a whole two seconds . . . then that glower morphed into something that too closely resembled pity. That hole in my stomach expanded.

  “The doctor said that if you woke up not being able to move anything . . . or feel anything . . . that it might very well mean you’d severed your spine.” Rowen’s chest was rising and falling harder than normal, and Josie’s head dropped to the bed. Actually, it dropped so that her forehead was resting on our combined hands, but the only way I knew that was by sight, not by feel. “But he also said if your spinal cord had suffered a big enough trauma, it might take days or even weeks for the swelling to go down enough for you to move again. Just because you can’t move anything now doesn’t mean you never will again.”

  I didn’t realize how short my breaths had become until I started to feel light-headed. I forced myself to breathe more slowly, but it only worked fractionally. Being a bull rider as long as I had, I knew more than any one person should about spinal injuries and what they meant. I’d seen more than my fair share of riders leave an arena on a stretcher only to spend the rest of their lives in an electric wheelchair. In our world, spinal injuries, along with just about any other injury, weren’t only a hazard of the job but a likelihood. However, up until I’d woken up five minutes ago, I’d been under the impression that it would never happen to me. I’d believed I was too damn tough and mean to get injured like this, but I guessed the truth had been more along the lines of me just being foolish and letting my ego overinflate my confidence.

  “Percentages,” I snapped, grinding my teeth. “I know he gave them to you, so let’s have them. What was the likelihood he gave you—the percentage—that I’d walk again if I woke up having no feeling from my neck down?”

  “Ten percent,” Josie said in the littlest voice I’d ever heard her use. She lifted her head and looked me in the eye. “He said you’d have a ten percent chance of walking if you woke up”—her gaze skimmed my body, her eyelids dropping—“the way you did.”

  My breathing got away from me again. “He said this even without the X-rays?”

  Josie nodded, one lone tear cutting down her cheek. “He said we wouldn’t know for sure if you’d broken your back until you woke up and got an X-ray, but given the way you hit the ground and how hard . . . he said that it was likely.”

  “But they won’t know anything until—”

  “Thanks, Jess, but I think I’ve heard enough.” I tried to lift my hand again, but it stayed frozen at my side. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m tired. Would you mind giving me a little space? I’m going to need my energy to face whatever it is I have to confront, I’m guessing. You know, it takes a ton of energy and stamina to curl into a wheelchair twenty-four-seven. I better save up my reserves now since I’ll be spending the rest of my life as a cripple.” I heard that edge working back into my voice. I felt that instinct to push people away and hurt them before they could hurt me clawing to the surface. I knew those were vices I shouldn’t let back into my life, but I couldn’t seem to hold them back. The reality I’d just been confronted with was proving too much for me to handle as the new, less surly and jaded Garth Black. The only way to face this was as the darker version of myself that I’d been sure I’d left behind forever.

  Rowen crossed her arms and leaned over me so I had no choice but to look at her. “Just because you might have severed your spine doesn’t give you a right to treat all of us like shit, Black.”

  “Thanks for your understanding. Now would you get out and leave me to my bright future?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. “You want to push someone away? Fine, push me. You want to be a son of a bitch all over again to someone? Here I am.” She tapped her chest, her eyes boring hole
s into me. “You want to take out your frustration and anger and blame on someone? Give it to me. But don’t you dare, for one moment, for one fraction of a moment, push her away.” I didn’t need to see the direction Rowen’s finger pointed. “Because if you try, so help me God, I will finish the job of breaking your back if it isn’t done already.”

  I huffed, turning my head away from Rowen. Turning my head away from Josie. Turning my head away from the life I’d had because it would never be the same again. “And here I thought marriage was supposed to tame a woman, not make her even more belligerent.”

  Josie was crying again, but instead of loud, racking sobs, she was crying quietly to herself. That was by far much worse.

  “Black, that’s my wife you’re talking to. Watch it.” Jesse’s grip tightened around the foot of my bed as he lifted a brow at me, challenging me.

  “What, Jess? Are you going to kick my ass if I keep at it? You might actually be able to beat me now that I’m paralyzed. Let me have it. What are you waiting for?”

  Jesse’s forehead creased as if I’d just stabbed a knife into his gut and given it a twist. Looking around the room, I saw that I’d successfully hurt or pissed off everyone I cared about most in the whole world. I felt on the inside what I felt outside—like shit.

  “You want to see belligerent, you just keep it up, bub.” Rowen peaked a brow in challenge before grabbing Josie’s shoulders. “I think you’re right about something though. You do need some privacy to get your shit worked out again.”

  Rowen had to help Josie up, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand. Even though one part of me wanted Josie to let go, another part hoped she never would.

  “It’s okay, Joze. Go get some food.” I swallowed, not sure how I was supposed to look at her as though I could be her husband and provide for her when I couldn’t even take a piss without assistance. “And some rest too. You know where to find me. I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

  Jesse moved up beside Rowen, took her hand, and led her out of the room. Him reaching for her and leading her out of a room was natural, effortless. It was something I’d taken for granted with Joze and something I’d never do again if the percentages didn’t lie. Rowen threw me one last look of warning before she disappeared into the hall. I pretended not to see it, but I didn’t need her looks or threats to know that Rowen Sterling-Walker wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass if I hurt Joze as I was capable of. Unlike her husband, Rowen wouldn’t let any disability, like my inability to move, stop her or even temper her punches.

  When I chanced looking at Josie, I saw a conflicted look on her face. I knew she wanted to stay. I knew she’d crawl in bed beside me and wouldn’t leave if I asked her to stay. She wasn’t the type to bail when life got hard or, specifically, her boyfriend’s body stopped working. But I wouldn’t wish that kind of life on my worst enemy. How could I let the person I loved most in the world live the life of a caregiver whose days and nights were burdened with responsibility and duty?

  I might not have known with absolute certainty that I’d never walk again, but I didn’t need X-rays or a doctor to confirm my prognosis. I might have let myself believe that my life didn’t have to end as it had started, but I should have known better. Fate sometimes gave a person a temporary furlough, but it never gave them a pass. I’d been foolish to believe differently.

  “Go on, Joze. Really. I’ll be good. Go take care of yourself, okay?” I nodded at the door, where I could just make out Jesse and Rowen waiting for her. Even they knew what I did—she couldn’t stay with me. “We’ll talk more later. I promise.”

  She studied my face for a moment, a smile working into place on hers. Lifting my hand, she kissed it. I didn’t feel a damn thing. Not the feel of her lips or the heat from them or the softness of them. In addition to the rest of my body, my heart broke right then too.

  “I love you, Black,” she whispered before resting my hand back at my side. She tucked the blanket around my arm, gave me one last smile, and then backed up toward the door. “I’ll be back in the morning, and we’ll figure this all out together, okay? It’ll be fine. I know it. We’ll be fine.” She waited for me to nod, but I couldn’t. A minute later, she left with her head bowed and the smile gone from her face.

  “I love you too, Joze,” I whispered to the dark room long after she’d left.

  I WATCHED THE sun rise through my window, not having slept a minute through the night. I’d been tired enough that I could have passed out with no problem, but I knew I had better ways to use my time alone. Josie might have been willing to leave last night to grab a bite to eat and a night of sleep, but I knew her too well—she’d be back first thing this morning, and she wouldn’t leave my side until I had to beg her while Rowen tugged her away.

  Josie was persistent, and she didn’t waver. I admired those qualities in her, but I’d have to figure out a way around those qualities. The whole reason I’d spent the night as an insomniac was so I could come up with a plan to let her go. In the event I never recovered, I would not allow her to waste the rest of her life waiting on me and wiping my ass. She’d argue around every point I could bring up as to why she shouldn’t have a lifetime of taking care of me, but I had to get her to see that I didn’t want that kind of life for her. I wanted the best for her.

  I knew enough to accept that if this was how I was stuck until the day I died, staying at my side would be the opposite of the best for her. I could try pushing her away, but something told me if I tried that, she’d only hold on tighter. I could play the hopeless and helpless card, which wasn’t a stretch from reality, and hope it sent her running. Maybe I could give denial a try to attempt to frustrate her until she couldn’t wait to be rid of me. I’d spent the night sorting through dozens of different things I could try, but nothing I came up with was likely to scare her away. Josie wasn’t the type of person who abandoned ship when life got hard. She was the one who battened down the hatches and held on for dear life until the storm had passed.

  A part of me didn’t want to let her go. The self-serving part. I wanted to spend every day with Josie, just as I’d been planning, but with the way I was now, I couldn’t keep her in my life without shifting her into more of a mother role.

  I’d had one mother, and that was more than enough. I wouldn’t sentence Josie to that kind of future.

  Of course, I knew mapping out my future as a paralyzed man might have been a bit premature, but I also knew the way I felt and the impact I’d taken. Karma had finally found me and was paying me back for twenty years of being a piece of shit to most everyone and everything. As far as people who deserved to walk again following this kind of an injury, I was at the tail end of that line.

  I wasn’t going to walk again. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that.

  But when an older man wearing blue scrubs slipped into my room a few minutes after the sun had risen, I guessed one was going to try. I thought I’d had a rough job, riding pissed off animals that were trying to kill the person hanging on to their backs, but this guy had to look a person in the face and tell them life as they knew it, and the one they had planned however many years down the road, was over. Cancer doctors had to tell patients they only had months to live, and ER docs had to tell families their loved ones hadn’t made it, but this doctor had to look patients in the eye and tell them that they were going to live but the lives they’d lead would make them wish they’d died.

  I almost felt a moment of pity for the doctor grabbing the chair from across the room and pushing it toward me . . . then I noticed he was looking at me with the same expression. I saw pity and something in his eyes that led me to believe he was counting his blessings that he could still move. Pity and relief. That was the way people would look at me from now on, I guessed. Pity for me, relief for themselves.

  That realization made me glare holes into the ceiling tiles.

  “I’m Doctor Payton, the spinal trauma specialist here,” he said as he settled into the chair pushed up next to me. “How are
you doing this morning, Mr. Black?”

  I huffed, continuing to glare at the ceiling. “I’m feeling fucking on top of the world.”

  Doc Payton sniffed, leaning back in his chair. “Happy to know you’re in good spirits. Most patients in your situation find themselves depressed and pissed off at the world, so your outlook is a nice change of pace.”

  I gave him a sideways look. “I was shittin’ you, Doc.”

  He scrolled around on the tablet in his lap. “I was too.”

  Great, I had a smartass for a doctor.

  “So when can I bust out of here?” I asked, though I continued to focus on the ceiling. During the course of the night, as a handful of nurses had come in to check on me, I’d found it hard to look at people who could still use their legs and bodies, as if they were to blame for what had happened to me. The bitterness and resentment theory was already holding up.

  The doctor looked up from his tablet. “You’ve sustained a serious injury to your spinal column. You won’t be released for a few more days. We’ve still got to run tests, schedule an MRI, some more X-rays—”

  “Hold up.” My eyes cut in his direction. “Did you just say more X-rays? As in I’ve already had some done?”

  “We did X-rays immediately after you were admitted. It’s standard when we’re dealing with anyone in your kind of situation.”

  “My kind of situation?” My brows lifted—at least they could still move. I’d have to get really good at using them.

  “Your kind of situation being the potential to have injured or severed something in your spinal column.” The doctor’s voice was calm, as though he was used to having this kind of a conversation every day. I felt as though my life was ending, as if I was waving good-bye as it floated away, and he was talking to me like he was discussing the weather over a cup of coffee.