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I never thought it would feel so good to be wearing a pair of shorts again. I tug them into place before slipping my tank top on. That one’s a little trickier, but the built-in bra means I won’t have to fight my way into a sports bra.
My arm is healing better than I imagined it would. And though my situation is crappy, I’m happy that I’m in much less pain than I thought I’d be. Sure, certain movements hurt more than others. Raising it seems to be the worst. Given what I went through, I think I’m incredibly lucky the bullet didn’t do more damage than it did.
I was too out of it when the doctor told me about how I was shot by the best kind of bullet. I remember snorting, wondering if he had been sampling my drugs. Now I realize he meant that a larger caliber would have shattered my shoulder. Most of the bruising and the wound size are because of the surgical team having to go in and dig the bullet out.
“So, you want me to put your hair up into a ponytail?”
I turn at the sound of Creed’s voice and wonder how long he’s been standing there watching me. I bite back a frustrated growl, not wanting to be reliant on them for anything, but putting my hair up is gonna hurt, and I’d rather not start physical therapy already in pain. “Please.”
I turn back around as he steps up behind me and gathers all my hair. He picks up the brush from the bed and smooths everything back. I slip the hair tie off my wrist and hold it up for him to use to secure my hair.
As soon as he’s done, I take a step away and turn to face him again. “Thanks. Do you know what time they’ll be here?”
“Their truck just pulled up. That’s why I came to find you. Are you ready for this? If it’s too soon, you can wait a couple of days.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”
He pauses at the word fine, likely knowing that when a woman says she’s fine, she is anything but. Shaking his head, he opens the door and motions for me to go ahead.
I walk into the main room and head toward the sitting area. I ignore Hawk, my eyes fixed on the beautiful woman touching his arm as she laughs.
I have no idea why I expected a man. Wishful thinking, I guess. I think my romance book-loving brain had conjured up a badass who would take one look at my situation and whisk me away from here.
Looking at the woman fawn all over Hawk, I realize I’ve been living in la-la land.
Creed’s hand on the small of my back makes me jump, and he urges me to move forward. I let him lead me closer until the woman looks up and her eyes land on me. She smiles politely before standing, her eyes drifting to Creed briefly. The smile she offers him is a heck of a lot warmer than the one she just gave me. I bite my lip, not wanting to act like a petty bitch. These men might still technically be my husbands, but they’re not really mine. Besides, it’s not their fault how she acts toward them.
I move closer and offer her my good hand. “Hi. I’m Avery.”
She looks at my hand for a second before reaching out with her own. Her nails are a pretty shade of pink, making me super conscious of my plain ones.
“Jess,” she says before shaking. It’s a weak-ass handshake, but again, I shake it off. Maybe she’s not a fan of handshakes.
“Jess here is gonna look after you. Hawk and I will leave you to it, but we won’t be far. So just yell if you need anything,” Creed says as I look at Hawk, who, for some reason, looks uncomfortable.
I look from him to Jess and frown. Was I interrupting? I shake my head and snort. I don’t even care. He can do what he wants. If that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, then so be it.
“Sounds good, but I don’t expect any issues. Right, Avery?” Jess smiles tightly.
I just nod because I’m not sure I’m reading her correctly. She doesn’t seem to like me. But that can’t be right. She doesn’t even know me. Still, I can’t shake the weird vibe I’m getting.
“I just want to get my shoulder back to normal.”
After another somewhat uncomfortable pause, Creed nods before indicating to Hawk for them to leave. Both me and Jess watch them go before she turns back to me. Her eyes move over my body, taking in my yoga shorts, which are virtually the same as hers, only mine are black and hers are pink.
Her black sports bra pushes her boobs up and shows off her toned stomach and arms. Her long blonde hair, that’s a few shades lighter than mine, is pulled back into a slick ponytail like mine as well. To be honest, we look kind of similar, though she is far more put together than me currently. And where she’s fit from the gym, I’m naturally lean like my mother. My exercises of choice are usually yoga and Pilates, which help keep me toned and strong, just in a different way than Jess. Our main difference is my two inches of height on her and the three inches of makeup on her face. I’ve never understood people who wear makeup to work out, but to each their own.
“Where do we start?” I ask when she keeps moving her eyes over me, studying me.
“You were shot in the shoulder, correct?”
I nod. “Just under my shoulder blade. I was lucky there was minimal damage. It still hurt like heck, though.”
“I bet. Getting shot is never fun. Still, it takes a special kind of coward to shoot someone who’s running away.” She moves to grab one of the dining chairs and carries it over to the middle of the room as I frown at her words.
Clearly, she knows nothing about what happened. “I wasn’t running away, and the shooter wasn’t a coward. She was just an emotionally abused woman who snapped.”
She doesn’t say anything, just points for me to sit down on the chair. “I don’t pretend to know the details, nor do I care. My job is simply to help you regain full range of motion in your arm.”
