Chapter Four

Gage

A s the door swings open, my favorite nurse enters with a warm smile. A plump lady in her sixties, with her grey hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail, she's wearing blue scrubs and pushing her trolley.

"Well, good morning, Julie," I say, playfully wiggling my eyebrows at her. "Have you come to give me a sponge bath?"

I can't help but smile at her hearty laugh. "You wish! Actually, I have some good news to share."

"Please tell me I'm being set free from this prison. Four agonizing days I've been here, but it feels like an eternity," I complain, sounding like a petulant child, I'm sure.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." She waves me off. "You've charmed your way into the hearts of everyone here."

"Yeah, except that cute nurse. What's his name, Josh? He didn't fall for my charms. I mean, who wouldn't want all this?" I trail my free hand down my hospital gown-clad chest, over my sling, careful not to knock my arm.

"Josh is straight and married."

"Damn, all the good-looking ones are straight. Julie, you have no idea how awful it's been for me here." I dramatically place the back of my good hand on my forehead.

"Mister, you've had it pretty good. You've been very well taken care of, and don't think I'm unaware of the extra treats Joyce has been giving you, either."

"I have no idea what you mean." I blink, the image of innocence.

"Mhm. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and that includes your time here, so you're being discharged."

"You're my favorite for reasons like this. You bring good tidings my way. My angel. My savior," I jest.

With an eye roll, she extends her hand toward me and says, "Give me your arm so I can do your checks."

Obeying orders, I stretch it out for her as she applies the cuff attached to the machine that takes my blood pressure. "So, when am I outta here?"

"The doctor will be doing rounds soon and will go over everything. But we still need an address to discharge you. So, if they haven't deemed your apartment safe, you'll need to find somewhere else to stay."

The bar. My bar.

Just like that, the mere mention of it brings back my fuck up. Being here, I've had time to reflect on my situation. I realize how fortunate I was not to cause harm to anyone. But when I have quiet time, no nurses or doctors coming in or out of my room, my conscience likes to remind me over and over just how bad it could've been. I've endlessly berated myself over all the what-ifs. Blamed myself for not listening to Max and taking care of the failing power supply. In my stupid mind, I told myself it would be okay. He'd warned me repeatedly about the consequences, and I feel like such a moron for not taking him seriously. I'm truly embarrassed that it came to this.

Everyone's known me as the town's idiot and all I've done with this disaster is prove them all right. And while I wish it was that easy to get it all fixed, to prevent the mess I've caused, a quick solution wasn't within my budget. So, I did what I always do and laughed it off with the—false—promise of getting it taken care of ‘ soon .'

When the sheriff stopped by, he let me know that since I was the only one harmed, I wouldn't be facing any charges. Nevertheless, the town's ordinance officers are unhappy about the fire taking place in their community. They're currently reviewing my permit. I don't blame them, to be honest. My stupidity could have ruined the whole town.

"Gage?" Julie's voice pulls me back.

"Huh?" Clearly, I heard nothing she said.

"Where did you go?" She tilts her head.

"Oh, um nowhere." I smile to reassure her I'm okay.

"So, do you have somewhere to stay?"

"Yeah, my buddy Max lives at the lighthouse. I can crash at his place."

"Well, that's settled then," she says with a satisfied smile. "Your numbers are all good. Since we changed your dressing yesterday, you'll have to visit your local doctor in town to get it changed every few days. We want to prevent it from getting infected. Remember to keep your arm properly supported by the sling. It'll stop you from using it and hurting it more. You don't want to slow your healing because you didn't listen to me, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am." I salute her with my good hand, and if I'm not mistaken, she groans.

Taking the file from the foot of my bed, she scribbles some notes before smiling at me. "All right, everything's set. The doctor will be here soon. I'll go get your papers ready, so you're all set to go once he's been by." She makes her way toward the door, pushing her cart in front of her.

"Awesome. I appreciate it, Julie." Sighing in exasperation, I lean back and rest my head on the flimsy pillow, feeling its thinness against my skull as I shut my eyes. Pretending to be okay is like putting on a show, hiding your true emotions beneath the surface.

The act of pretending to be in control, concealing the feelings of being overwhelmed with my life, has me seeking validation through casual sexual partners. It's my attempt to find comfort and relief from my struggles because I'm too stubborn to ask for help. All I'm really doing is prolonging the performance because when I wake up, it all starts over again. People have always known me as a cheerful and easy-going person with a great sense of humor. So, I feel obligated to continue being the person who everyone expects me to be. I wear my mask, but sometimes, all I want is to stay in my bed and hibernate. Burrow deep under my covers and block out the real world. But that's not an option for me. My income relies solely on opening the bar, so if I don't open, I earn nothing. Now I can't even go back to my own bed, or the bar. Though, if I'm being completely honest, I'm dreading going back there, anyway.

What am I gonna walk into? What is the extent of the damage? Is my bar even operational at this point? What the fuck happened to my life?

When I arrived in Hope, all I wanted was a new beginning. Inheriting the bar from Aunt P was supposed to be a positive change, signifying that I had progressed in life and become a business owner. The moment I signed the paperwork, it was as if I had stepped into a pit of quicksand, and every move I made only sank me deeper into despair.

A knock at the door jolts me from my self-pity, and when I open my eyes, I see a sheepish-looking Jaxon standing there.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in?" I joke. After the devastating losses of his grandfather and best friend, Annie, it was a long journey for Max to trust and connect with someone again. When Jaxon entered his life and captured his heart, he helped him heal. They helped each other heal.

"Is now a good time?" he asks timidly.

"I'm not going anywhere until they give me the green light, so yeah."

Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, he looks at my arm resting in the sling. "How are you doing?" he asks.

"Not bad, all things considered." Shifting focus away from me, I ask, "How's Bert doing?"

"He's fine, thankfully. He got checked over by the EMTs and was given the all clear, so Sherry and I dropped him home that night."

"I'm glad to hear that. Are you doing okay?"

"I haven't had any side effects from the fire, if that's what you're asking. But if you're wondering how I'm doing overall..."

I stop him mid-sentence. "You're leaving, aren't you?" I exclaim in disbelief. I knew it would happen, but there was a small part of me that wished it wouldn't. "Jesus. Max is going to be devastated by this."

"That's why I came. While I'm gone, I need you to take care of him."

"Fuck. You're really going?" The way he looks at me tells me all I need to know, but I still need him to confirm it. "Seriously, why are you walking out on your man?"

He wears a pained expression. "I have no choice."

It's at that moment I notice his tired eyes, circled with redness, shoulders hunched as if he's burdened with the troubles of the entire world. "What do you mean, you have no other choice?"

"It's a long story, but the Cliffs Notes version—my memory came back."

I couldn't imagine having amnesia like Jaxon and not knowing anything about my life. "Shit. So you know who you are, then?"

"Yeah, I do and believe me, now I know I wish I didn't. Do you see that guy standing near the door?"

Looking past Jax, I catch sight of a guy looking through the glass. He hastily turns away when he realizes I'm looking at him.

"He's my father's lawyer and was sent to come pick me up and bring me back home."

"Who the heck are you? Mafia? Can't you just refuse?"

"It's something I would love to do, but I can't. Can you please look after Max for me? I need to sort things out at home, so I can come back with no baggage from my past."

Leaning forward, Jax rests his hands on the bed, clasping them tightly together as if in prayer. "I'll do whatever it takes, even beg, to have the assurance that he'll have you there. I can't leave until you make me this promise."

The visible turmoil on his face implies the gravity of his circumstances. "You gonna come back?"

"Max is the love of my life who has opened my eyes to a happiness I never thought possible. It's hard to explain, but he truly has become my everything—the person who fills my thoughts and completes me. There's nothing that can keep me from coming back to him. Just know I have to do this; close the door on my old life so I can walk through the new one without the past coming back to ruin my new life in Hope."

His eyes glisten with tears as one solitary droplet slips down his face. Maybe I'm becoming more compassionate with age, but I genuinely believed his promise to return, and I'm indebted to him for his help with the fire.

"It's no hardship on my part looking after Max. He's not just my best friend; he's like a brother to me. You can rely on me to do my best to look after him." I try to reassure him.

Releasing his breath, he expresses a sigh filled with both relief and gratitude. He glances at the disheveled man waiting for him outside the door, who appears to have worn the same suit all week. When I look over at him, I don't see the typical image of a high-profile lawyer.

"Are you sure about that guy? He seems kinda sketchy to me. Don't like his face."

Jax laughs. "I'm not a fan of his face either, but I'll be okay with him." Pushing back the chair, he stands up, and I quickly reach out to grab his hand.

"Before you leave, I just wanted to say thanks for, you know, helping with the fire and stuff. I messed up, but trust me, things aren't always what they seem."

"They never are. Look on the bright side, no one got hurt, well, except for you, but it could've been worse, so that's something." Squeezing my hand, he says, "I really have to go."

Nodding, I let go of his hand.

"Take care of yourself, Gage," he says with a tired smile.

"You too, man. And don't worry, Max is in good hands with me. Well, one hand ‘cause this one is no good to anyone right now." Lifting the sling slightly, I shrug.

His half-smirk lingers on his face as he exits the room, leaving me to my own thoughts once more.

Determined to keep my promise and support my friend, I reluctantly get up and put on the clothes Max lent me. Because of the smoke, my clothes were all ruined and I couldn't go back to the bar. That left me with no other option but to go home in a hospital gown. The last thing I need right now is everyone ogling my ass on the way out, even though it's a very fine ass. Luckily, Max came by a few days ago and dropped off some spare clothes for me.

Exhausted from the effort of dressing myself with one hand, I sit on the bed and take a moment to catch my breath just as the doctor arrives.

After picking up my notes, he takes a seat in the recently vacated chair Jax had occupied.

"Good morning, Gage! How are you feeling today?"

He's approximately my age, handsome, with light brown hair styled in a side part. I take note of his outfit, a chuckle brewing inside me—a blue-and-white checkered shirt paired with black dress pants—seeing the eye-catching bright yellow Crocs he's wearing.

"I'm all good, Doc. I'm ready to leave."

"The nurse informed me you couldn't wait to escape from this place." Chuckling, he continues, "If you keep that arm covered and dry, take your antibiotics, and return to see the burn specialist, I'm happy to discharge you with no concerns. Do you have a place to stay? Says here, address to be confirmed."

"I'll be staying with a friend out at the lighthouse." I lie my ass off, hoping Max won't leave me without a place to crash.

"All right, great. We need to give the wound the necessary time to heal. It will be up to the burn team to determine whether skin grafts are required. But it's looking more and more like a first-degree burn. Did the nurse provide you with instructions about going to see your local doctor to change the dressings?"

"Yeah, she did. What are the chances that I will require surgery?"

"Well, I don't want to say, but from what I observed yesterday, things seem promising. However, it ultimately depends on whether you pick up an infection. With each dressing change, the dead skin is gently removed, allowing room for fresh, new skin to grow and promote healing. I understand it may seem like a lot to take in, but the specialist should have thoroughly discussed all of this with you."

"He did, yeah." Remembering all the gruesome details of how to spot an infection, and how my skin might turn black.

"So, remember to take the medication as instructed, make appointments with a doctor in your area, and if you have any concerns about your health or suspect an infection, come back here without delay, okay?" He gives me a pointed no-bullshit look.

"Consider it done."

"Oh, a little tip if you need to shower without getting your arm wet. Try using Saran Wrap as a protective cover." Standing, he adds, "The nurse will give you leaflets that contain all the information you need."

"Thanks, Doc." I offer my good hand for a handshake.

Julie returns just as he's about to leave. "Are you done here, doctor?"

"Yep," he answers. "Gage is all set. I'll leave him in your capable hands."

"Here you are then." Julie puts a bag on the bed and shows me what's inside. "We got antibiotics, pain meds, and a bunch of pamphlets. On your way out, please stop by the desk to sign some paperwork and include your friend's details. Then I'll escort you outside."

"Cheers, Julie." I quickly gather the bag of meds, eager to leave before anyone has second thoughts.