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"That the sports medicine guy?" Dean asked.
I nodded. "Yep, and he takes good care of me."
"And I included my physio suggestions," the doctor continued. "Four weeks, José. Bare minimum."
"Yes, sir," I agreed.
After that, it was a flurry of cute young nurses, grumpy ones, and a few dictator types. Combined, they helped me get a shower - thank fuck, that included a chair - made sure I knew how to take care of the two-inch incision I now had, and read me a whole damned list of shit I shouldn't be doing.
Then one of those cute girls arrived with a shiny new wheelchair. "Fresh from the pharmacy," she bragged as she pulled it up beside the bed. "Now let's get you into this and we can get you out of here, sir."
Dean quickly hopped up. "This is gonna hurt, J.D."
"Yup," I agreed, lifting an arm for the help I knew I'd need.
While the nurse was busy locking the wheels of the chair, Dean got on my good side and gave me something to brace against. Still, moving hurt, and it hurt real bad. The shower had been hard. This? There was some damned twisting involved, and it let me count every single one of those broken bones in my side.
Fuck. I ended up holding my breath, but I damned well made it. Yet once my ass was in the chair, the best thing I could manage was panting. Opening my eyes was far out of the question, not unless I wanted to end up weeping like a motherfucker.
"You good?" Dean asked. "Need me to help you sit up a bit more?"
I just shook my head. "I just wanna go home," I whispered.
"That's where we're headed," he promised. "Now this little lady's going to take you down. I'm gonna go get the car, ok?"
"Car?" That had my attention.
"Rental," he reminded me. "It's low enough you'll be able to get in it, boy."
Which meant getting out of this chair again. Then back in it. Then out of it. Yeah, I was startin' to see how much shit this weekend was gonna be. Still, I had big plans, and I'd be damned if I was gonna wuss out before they happened.
Because I might not be able to ride a bull, but that didn't mean I couldn't go watch. My girl was gonna need me there, and my boy deserved a little backup. So I was damned well gonna show my face.
After another round of torture, I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of a half-decent-sized vehicle. Then again, Dean weren't no little man. No way would he fit in some of those tiny-ass cars they liked to rent out.
First, we stopped at a pharmacy to fill my prescriptions. Dean told me to sit still, promising he had this. There was just one problem.
"Here," I said, plucking my wallet from the bag between my feet. Then I pulled out my credit card. "You'll need this."
"Need a candy bar too?" he teased.
"I was just starting to like you," I tossed back.
Laughing, the man climbed out and headed inside. Me, I grabbed my phone. There was one more person who needed to know about this damned mess. A real important one.
The phone was answered right after the first ring. "J.D.?" Max sounded worried.
"Yeah, I'm out," I told him. "Figured you saw that wreck, huh?"
"And called the hospital every hour for an update on your condition. Had to jump through a few hoops to get that! Someone locked you down good."
I just chuckled, keeping it light enough so I didn't hurt my ribs. "Yeah. Sorry. Shoulda had Cody call ya. But Max, I'm out for a few shows."
"Then be out," he told me. "J.D. you need to rest up and recover."
"Gotta ride in Nashville," I said. "If I don't, I won't get the points for finals."
"And there's always next year," he tried to sooth.
