Chased Dreams, Page 6

  She continued to walk right beside me as I hobbled my way along, heading straight for the bedroom once I was inside. I collapsed onto our bed, feeling like a train had hit me. I was quickly learning one thing—I hated surgery and I hated being in pain.

  “Babe? Did they send any more of those pain meds home with you? Whatever they gave me before the surgery isn’t cutting it.” My knee was throbbing badly.

  She laughed. “Yes, they gave you a new script. We stopped at the pharmacy drive through on the way home to pick them up. You don’t remember? You even signed the receipt for them.”

  “I did?” I asked in amazement. I had absolutely no recollection of doing any such thing.

  She laughed again. “Let me go get you a glass of water so you can take some. The doctor said you could have more if you needed it, when we got home.”

  I sighed and relaxed back against my pillow, images of the dream I’d had still floating through my head. They disturbed me, but I didn’t feel like talking with Brittney about it yet. I wasn’t sure why all these memories of Nikki kept surfacing, but I didn’t want to hurt Britt’s feelings with them. I loved and appreciated her so much. She’d helped me through so many difficult times.

  She reappeared with water and my medicine, handing them over to me. “Here you go.”

  I scooted higher in the bed so I could sit up. I quickly swallowed them down and set the glass on the nightstand. “Would you mind handing the Xbox controller too? It’s over on the T.V.”

  “You’re going to be calling me your maid before long,” she replied, doing as I asked. “Are you sure you’re awake enough to play this?”

  “No,” I responded, knowing she didn’t really like me playing this thing. “But I figured it would help to get my mind off other stuff.”

  “I understand. Is there anything else I can get you? If not, I’ll go see if I can get you an appointment with the therapist I found.”

  “Yeah, if you’re gonna end up being my maid, maybe you can start wearing one of those little French outfits around the house.”

  A burst of laughter escaped her. “You wish.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I winked at her and she shook her head as she left the room.

  I was really happy she was setting up the appointment, already. I wanted to talk to someone who was outside of this whole situation. I hadn’t felt like my head was sitting on straight since my accident. It was as if I’d been shoved into some creepy alternate universe.

  Turning on the television with the remote, I settled back to play. The longer I sat there, the more relaxed I became, my body almost feeling like it was floating. This was different from the high I used to get when I was smoking weed. It made my body feel good again. I remembered people from my group sessions who’d had problems with these kinds of pills. They’d told me they were really easy to get addicted to. I could understand why now. I finally had to turn my game off because I was too far gone to play. I slid down into my pillow and just absorbed the feeling washing over me.

  “Chase?” Brittney called from the other room. “Do you think you’d feel up to going to see the counselor in a couple days?”

  “Um, better make it for next week,” I replied, finding it hard to stay awake. “I still feel pretty out of it right now.”

  “Okay. I’ll see what they have.”

  I couldn’t stay awake to see if she had anything else to say.

  ***

  The loud beeping of the alarm woke me with a start and I glanced over to see that it was ten o’clock in the morning already. I’d fallen asleep at 5 PM, yesterday. These pain meds were really knocking me out. I lifted my head and could already feel a massive headache coming on and my knee starting to throb.

  “Awake from the dead?” Brittney’s voice surprised me. I’d forgotten she’d taken work off today, so she could help me get to my appointment.

  “Yeah, barely. I need some more medicine though. Will you get them for me?” I flashed her a tired puppy dog stare, even though I knew she would anyway. “I think I’m going to need something extra to ease the pain while I’m getting cleaned up.”

  “You have plenty of time. No need to rush,” she said as she got up and went to get my medicine. “You’re appointment is right after lunch, from 1 to 2.”

  I sat up and slowly turned my legs off the bed, staring down at the giant brace I still had to wear. I sighed heavily, disgusted by my lack of mobility. I’d hoped to feel much better than I did by now. “I’m afraid this is going to be somewhat of a task again. Can you help me out?”

  “Of course! You know I’m happy to!” Her voice was cheerful, but she looked really tired. There were circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there before. It had to be difficult for her—working full time and then rushing right home to take care of me. I hated that I was responsible for making her look this way.

  After she brought me my pills, she gathered some clothes for me and followed me into the bathroom. The doctor had given me a special sleeve for me to use when I showered to keep my leg and incisions dry.

  Brittney laid my clothing on the counter and turned to face me. “What do you need my help with?”

  “I’ve got my shirt, but I need help with the rest.”

  She immediately stepped forward and began untying the string on my athletic shorts.

  “Whoa, killer!” I teased, handing her my crutches as I balanced on one leg. “Let me get my shirt off first.” I grinned as I pulled it over my head, tossing it toward the hamper. Immediately her hands were back on my shorts.

  “Anxious to get things off?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  She gave a small laugh. “Well, yes, if you must know. Things have been a little . . . lonely . . . around here, lately.”

  I knew exactly what she meant. Before my accident, Brittney and I had a very active life together. I knew I missed it, but it wasn’t exactly like I was in a position to do the things I used to either.

  Smiling as I stared at her, heat began moving through me. I hadn’t looked at her this way in a while and I missed it. She continued to help me until I was undressed, kneeling to slip the sleeve onto my leg and securing it there.

  “All of a sudden I’m thinking maybe this shouldn’t be a one way show,” I said, feeling more than a little frisky. I winked at her as she stood up.

  She appeared to contemplate things for a moment, and then smiled as she slowly turned around and began undressing.

  Reaching for the shower knobs, I turned them on, testing the water with my hands, but never removing my eyes from her. When she was finished, she boosted herself up unto the counter and gestured for me to come to her.

  Quickly, I hopped over, pausing to run my hands up her silky legs. Her gorgeous blonde hair hung thickly behind her back. She was so beautiful.

  Britt wrapped her legs around me, which helped to stabilize me a bit, and I leaned against her.

  “You sure can get to me easy,” I said with a smirk, bending down to softly bite her bottom lip. She moaned and I kissed her deeply, my hands tracing the curves of her body. Things quickly intensified and I felt her nails digging into my back as the two of us got lost in each other, kissing, touching, and whispering.

  The steam from the shower filled the room, making the mirror fog over and heating our skin.

  “You’re going to be late for your appointment if we continue on this way,” Brittney breathed into my ear before kissing my neck.

  “I don’t care,” I replied whispering into her hair. “Right now, spending time with my wife is more important.” I wanted desperately to reestablish our connection. I was tired of feeling like we were drifting apart. We needed this time together.

  I carefully untangled her legs from around me, holding my hand out to her. “Come on. Let’s take a shower.”

  She slipped her hand in mine, patiently waiting for me to hop into the stream of water before she joined me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly against me and I kissed her again, as the heated liquid sluiced o
ver our skin, heightening the sensations between us even more.

  “I hope you know how much I love you,” I said between kisses, staring at her long eyelashes, now spiky and wet. Small drops of water ran over her lips and her tongue darted out to lick them away. “Thank you for all you do for me.”

  She continued to stare at me seriously. “I’d do anything for you, Chase. Anything.” A small sob escaped her and she laid her head against my chest. “I’m so sorry for everything that has happened to you.”

  I stroked her hair and just held her quietly, gently swaying back and forth. “Brittney,” I said breaking the silence and she looked up. “For the next little while I don’t want to think about anything but you and me. Can you do that?”

  She lifted her head and nodded.

  I bent to capture her lips once more.

  Chapter Nine

  Standing outside the glass building with its thickly tinted black windows, I stared at my reflection in the doors with Pima Therapists painted in gold lettering on them. I scowled at the crutches that supported me, making me truly appear like the invalid I felt I was.

  Brittney stepped ahead of me to open the door, only serving to make me more irritated.

  “I feel like I’m at a damn funeral,” I said, my eyes traveling over all the black glass again.

  Brittney sighed heavily. “Suck it up. I know you don’t want to be here, but please try to make the best out of it—if not for yourself, then for me.” Her eyes were full of concern and her voice had that slight begging tone she used whenever she was nervous about me screwing things up.

  “Okay, okay. I will, baby, I promise.” Instantly I felt bad for not being more considerate of her feelings—again. I wondered if she ever regretted marrying me. Our life together certainly wasn’t turning out the way either of us had planned.

  I crutched my way past her into the building and the two of us made our way over to where a pretty young receptionist sat at the front desk, greeting us with a smile.

  “Hello. I assume you’re Chase Walker?” she asked brightly, her beautiful smile never breaking. I suppressed a grin, imagining what she might look like at the age of sixty with a face creased from smile lines.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I replied back in an overly cheerful voice, in an attempt to please my wife.

  “I’m not going to lie. I recognized you.” A slight blush crossed her face and she glanced nervously toward Brittney for a second before turning her attention back to me. “I’m an ASU graduate. My boyfriend and I try to make it to all the home games. We are big fans.”

  I smiled and nodded, not sure what to say as her gaze travelled sympathetically down to my injured leg. For the first time, her smile faltered. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, as if she were worried she’d hit on a bad subject.

  “Go ahead and take a seat,” she said, suddenly all business, gesturing toward the waiting area. “Doc Williamson will be out in a bit to get you.”

  Doc? I thought to myself as Brittney and I headed over to some chairs. The dude is a shrink, not a doctor. He sure as hell better not expect me to call him doc.

  Dropping down next to Brittney, I took in the décor of yet another waiting room. This one had stark white walls and fake plants, along with a large flat screen, which was off. It practically screamed asylum. The only thing that was remotely relaxing about this place was the soft music playing through speakers overhead, in the ceiling.

  Brittney’s phone buzzed and I saw it was her mom on caller ID. She answered it and I let my thoughts wander, curious about how this appointment might go. The doctor was probably some sixty-year-old man with crazy white hair and glasses who’d had to find a wife through a mail order catalog. Then again, maybe he didn’t have a wife. This place sure looked like it could use a woman’s decorating touch.

  Yeah, I really didn’t want to be here, which was evident by my rising sarcasm. I wasn’t sure I believed in this kind of therapy, but I knew Brittney was worried.

  My thoughts were interrupted when the door next to us swung open and an attractive, dark haired man stepped out. I couldn’t help my chuckle. I was wrong about his looks, at least.

  “Chase?” he asked, with the same smile as the girl at the front desk. It was kind of creepy. I began wondering if large, fake smiles where part of the requirement to work here. I hoped they didn’t think it was comforting. It wasn’t.

  “Right on, that’s me,” I replied, a shot of nervousness passed through me and I glanced at Brittney. “See you in a bit.”

  “Good luck.” She mouthed back, giving me a genuine smile of encouragement that made me love her even more.

  Dr. Williamson held the door open for me as I made my way through, then stepped in front of me. “Follow me, please.”

  I did as he asked, taking in some brightly colored paintings lining the hall that were totally random. There were no images in them, just splashes of paint. I briefly wondered if some of their crazy patients had painted them. I’d never seen anything quite like them. I really wasn’t feeling the décor of this place, but if it worked for them, then so be it. Who was I to judge their taste?

  We stopped at a door with a brass nameplate that read Edwin Williamson, Ph.D., and he opened it, gesturing for me to go through before he closed it behind us.

  I took in Edwin’s white office, since that was how I was determined to think of him from now on. I still wasn’t sold on him being a doctor. He was going to have to prove that part to me. I didn’t give a damn how many framed certificates and licenses were on his wall and bookshelves. Even I could make and print out something fake like that, and I was no computer genius. Okay, maybe I was taking the sarcasm a bit far, but I was serious when it came to him proving his skill. I’d heard too many horror therapy stories to immediately trust some stranger with my problems.

  “Go ahead and sit down, Mr. Walker,” he said, pointing to a large black leather sofa that faced a matching chair. I briefly wondered if he expected me to lie on the thing, before dismissing the idea as too cliché.

  “Well, how does this start?” I asked, as he took a seat across from me, picking up a pad of legal paper and pen from the small end table to his right. My jaw clenched nervously and I felt awkward as he locked eyes with me.

  “Tell me about you,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

  That was it? I’d known this guy all of two minutes and he just expected me to start spilling my guts to him? This was going to be hard for me. It usually took a lot for me to open up to others. I held things pretty close to the vest.

  A brief image of Brittney, with a hopeful expression on her face as she asked me about getting therapy, floated into my mind and I felt my stubborn resolve begin to crumble.

  I sighed. “I’m not one to tell my story easily, but I’ve had some heartache in my life,” I spoke honestly.

  He chuckled. “A big, strong guy like yourself is nursing a broken heart?”

  His blasé demeanor immediately rankled my senses. “Excuse me?” I said, clenching my fists, feeling my guard go right back into overdrive.

  “Oh, don’t let me get you upset. I was merely joking,” he said, plastering that fake smile back on his face. “I often find humor helps to relax the environment. It can help loosen things up.”

  “It’s not working,” I replied, staring him down. The smile slid from his face and his bright blue eyes suddenly flashed extreme discomfort before he glanced at his paper, which still had nothing written on it.

  I’d seen that look before, usually when I zeroed in on a guy across the line on an opposing team. They knew I was coming hard at them.

  “Are you intimidated by me?” I asked, squinting at Edwin as I picked out his nervous habits one by one. Part of my skill on the field came from being overly observant of those I was playing against. Suddenly, I felt as if I were in a giant chess tournament with this guy.

  “Mr. Walker, you’re here to fix your problems, not to cause more,” he answered sternly.

  Anger raged th
rough me. “My problems?” I’d never been able to take people telling me I had problems. My life had definitely not been any kind of cakewalk, true, and I’d made some really bad choices on occasion, but I wasn’t going to be lumped into the class of some mental case.

  “Sir, I think you need to really choose your words wisely. I came to you because I’m trying to find some comfort in my life, but since the moment I arrived at this place I’ve only felt uncomfortable.”

  He dropped his pen and notepad to the table beside him, gripping the edge with his hand. “Comfortable is a word used for spas, Mr. Walker. This is a facility to get help,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “Maybe you should attend some anger management classes before you try therapy.”

  My face grew hot as my pulse raced. “I don’t need help, mister.” I climbed to my feet, balancing myself on one leg as I raised myself to my full height. “But you might need a lot of help if you continue on this way.” My fists clenched and I found myself wishing I could punch this dick in the face.

  The door suddenly swung open and a huge burly man, twice my size, came in. I glanced to where Edwin’s hand was gripping the table and realized there must be a call button there. He’d called the friggin’ white coats! Rage boiled through me.

  “Do we have a problem?” The intruder asked as he moved toward me.

  “We’re about to,” I growled. Not one to back down from a fight, I naturally took a step toward the newcomer. White-hot pain shot clear through my leg and I collapsed to floor the like the invalid I now was. Slamming my fist against the floor, I cursed my weakness. I’d been overcome by the need to beat the shit out of something or someone, and now I was writhing on the ground in agony.

  The doctor swiftly exited the room and I was glad to be out of the presence of the stupid ass.

  Rolling to my back, I stared at the white-coated man looming over me. “Well, this is a first,” he said in a totally harmless manner as he extended a hand toward me.

  “What is?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m usually the guy putting people on the floor, not helping them up.” He chuckled, and I let my ardor cool as I realized he was honestly trying to be helpful. I took his hand, trusting him. He’d only been doing his job. There was no reason for me to be angry with him.