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So when Bruno stood up and Swayze did, too, I felt my stomach pitch.
“Will you give me a ride home?” Swayze turned to look at Bruno. “I don’t think I can walk.”
“Sure,” Bruno said as he stood up, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “You ready now?”
She picked up her drink and downed it before placing it back on the table in front of her and snatching up her headphones. “Sure am.”
I gritted my teeth as I stood, too. “Ready to head back, Ignacia?”
Ignacia held up her half-full glass of wine. “I’m still drinking. And they’re finally gone. Let’s stay and enjoy for a while.”
I’d rather have my dick dipped into hot tar.
“Sure,” I grumbled, watching out the window as Bruno helped Swayze onto the back of his bike.
Swayze didn’t wrap her arms around Bruno or anything. In fact, she looked quite stiff on the seat behind him.
“Do you have something against Bruno?” Ignacia asked. “I sold him some property a couple of months ago. He’s a pretty nice guy.”
“Nothing against Bruno,” I admitted. “Are you ready yet?”
Maybe if I kept asking, she would say yes…
CHAPTER 11
The type of skin on your lips is called mucosa. The same skin you can find on your anus.
-Swayze’s random facts
SWAYZE
It was broken.
Son of a bitch!
“Can I still run?” I asked curiously.
The doctor looked at me like I was nuts. “No. You have to actually be off of it for six weeks. I think I will put you in the walking cast, though. I think that for you and the fracture it’ll be better in the long run. You have to wear the walking cast at all times unless you’re not putting any weight on the foot. Such as when you’re asleep.”
I grimaced.
“Shit,” I grumbled. “I was training for a marathon!”
“Well,” he said, “you’ll be sitting it out for six weeks while this heals. I’m sorry.”
I deflated.
“Dammit,” I moaned. “Can I do anything in the boot that I want to?”
“Do you mean run in the boot?” the doctor looked at me accusingly.
“No,” I lied. “I mean, can I do other exercises in it. Like riding a bike? Possibly rowing?”
Possibly anything that’ll make it to where I can work out and not go stir crazy while I waited for it to heal.
“Anything low impact you can do. Rowing, biking, swimming. What you can’t do is not take this seriously.” He patted my ankle. “I’ll have a nurse come in with a boot. You’ll be ready to go in about ten minutes. Now, don’t forget to do as I said, and seriously, ma’am. Take this seriously. If you don’t, you may never run that marathon.”
I sighed as he walked out the door.
He left it open, though, not leaving me totally alone in my thoughts.
Sadly, after my run two days before, my foot had started hurting worse and worse and worse until I realized that it wasn’t going to go away.
Which meant a trip to the town’s clinic.
Which also meant having to pay for medical bills out of freakin’ pocket because I still hadn’t gotten around to finding myself health insurance yet.
But, while I was here, I went ahead and had them refill my birth control, too.
I wasn’t saying that I would need it, but how sucky would it be to need it and not have it when the time rolled around?
There was a certain man that I couldn’t stop looking at across the street from me, and eventually something would have to give.
Either he would or I would.
I knew it.
He knew it.
And his date from two nights ago, Ignacia, knew it.
How did I know that Ignacia knew it?
Because this morning as I was leaving for the doctor, she’d stopped by to tell me to ‘stay away from her man.’
Luckily, I’d been in the car about to leave when she had rolled up in her fancy BMW.
Me in my twelve-year-old Volkswagen Jetta? I just slammed the door closed and motored away, not caring how close I came to running over her spiffy car.
While I waited for the nurse to come back with my stupid walking boot, I kept my eyes aimed outside. At least until I heard his deep voice.
When I turned to survey the front of the clinic where patients walked in and out, it was to find Trick standing there with a towel over his arm and blood running down his hand to drip onto the floor.
My face went white with worry.
Ignacia, who was behind him, apologized profusely. “I’m so, so sorry, Trick!” she cried. “I never meant to do that.”
“I said it’s fine,” Trick grumbled, his eyes on the woman at the front desk. “You can go now. Thanks for the ride. Hope that blood comes out of your leather seats.”
Then, without another word, he turned his back on her and walked into the main part of the clinic, leaving her behind.
