37. Derek

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Derek

" I 'm going to give Indy a tattoo," I say from my chair at Hel's. It's been three days since Indy came home, and each one has been worse than before. She won't eat, sleep, or talk. Nothing. Ash warned me that depression could spike during a relapse, but I can honestly say this is far more than I realized possible. How has my brighter-than-the-sun Indy completely shut off? It's like someone flipped the switch in her. I think this is harder because the kids were taken from her. I've tried everything I can think of to get her back at the hospital, but they aren't listening.

They're refusing to let me talk to the usual administrator. Looking down at the sketch, I shift nervously. As much discomfort as I feel at the thought of tattooing Indy, I'll do it for her.

I don't tattoo people I know. Tattooing is very intimate and can cause people to form a bond with the artist. We can become someone to help you heal and help you grow, and while that's great, I don't want to be that involved with people. Or at least I didn't. But as I sit here, sketching out a design to surprise Indy with tonight, I know I've broken that rule. Fuck, I told her brother I love her, and I do. I'll die before I ever admit it to her, mainly because I know that girl will scream about burdens and then leave me for another purple-door roach motel. But I do. I love her more than I can remember loving anyone, and it's killing me to watch her dimming more and more each day. So, I'll tattoo her because it's the only thing I can think of that may bring her back to me, even if it's temporary.

Ash stops tattooing the badass eighty-something-year-old woman to look at me. "Are you asking my permission?"

"No, I'm announcing it so that when you see her on my table, you don't have a damn coronary."

Atlas sighs. "Can't be any worse than what's been done to my table."

"Really?" Fox snorts. "Like you didn't get me back on my fucking bed and my own table."

"Don't forget about that time in the bed of your truck." Atlas beams as Fox glares at the idiot.

"Trust me," he growls. "I haven't."

"I'm sorry you have to hear this," Ash says to the old woman. She scoffs and waves him off.

"Sweetheart, I was burning bras and putting my tongue down women's throats before your parents were conceived." I lean forward in my seat to hide my laugh as Ash stares blankly at the woman, his eyes wide and twitchy. "I remember being forty and thinking, you know what I haven't had enough of? Orgies."

I'm doubled over while Fox has become very interested in something in his station, and Atlas… fucking Atlas has wheeled his chair over and is engrossed in this woman's story about how she's had an orgy in every state and how not everything is actually bigger in Texas.

"Virginia, though," she sighs wistfully. "Definitely for lovers. I think I had a train going there unlike anything you'd ever believe." Well, I feel dirty. Ash is still just staring at the woman.

The old lady pats his knee, causing him to jump. "So, don't you worry! There's nothing you can say to make me uncomfortable. I once started a massive protest in DC in the seventies, where we all were under blankets on the steps of the capital having sex."

"Wow…." Atlas is acting like he's found his superhero in this woman. "Sex as a political statement. That's amazing. I would've definitely been listening."

"Well, back then, we had to shock and awe. Men wouldn't listen to women. We didn't have the same rights, and if you weren't a white, straight male, you were nothing—a second-class citizen. So there was no listening to our side. All of our tactics may not have been the brightest looking back, but I don't regret them. Sometimes, the rules laid out were done so in fear. And you can't trust anything done based on fear."

"Hey, little darlin'." I walk into Indy's room to find her in the same spot she was when I left her this morning, and it kills me. She doesn't move to acknowledge me, just lying in her bed facing the wall. I walk around her bed and crouch down in front of her. Her eyes are red and irritated, and her lips are cracked. Her hair, which I love so much, is snarled from days of laying on the pillow.

"Indy." I run my thumb over her cheek and watch her eyes shudder. It's the first reaction I've gotten from her in days. "I made you a present," I say softly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I feel a little old to be making gifts for my girlfriend. But she blinks her eyes and moves her head to look at me as if I've grabbed her attention. That gesture is enough to make me want to cry. My Indy is still in there. I can reach her.

"What?" Her voice is hoarse, weak, and barely audible.

I give her a small smile. "Let me take care of you and get you fed. Then you can have it." She looks skeptical until I hold out my pinky. The faintest whisper of a smile appears on her tired face as her cool pinky wraps around mine.

Standing up, I walk over to her dresser and take out panties and a set of pajamas I bought for her yesterday. I just pulled them out of the dryer and folded them before coming here. Hopefully, she likes the penguin-themed flannel set. I set them on the corner of her bed before entering her bathroom to turn her shower on. I stop when I realize she's not going to be able to shower on her own, and there is no chance that after laying down for so long, she'll have the energy to stand. I shut off the shower before walking back through her room and across the hall to my main bathroom, where I have a large shower and tub. A tub I've never used, but I remember thinking it would add value to the home, so I put it in. This is the first time I'm thankful for doing it.

I turn on the taps and get it to a warm temperature, not hot like I prefer. I read the other night that heat, including hot showers and baths, can exacerbate MS symptoms. Once it's at a comfortable temperature, I grab a basket from inside my towel closet, empty the contents, and walk back to Indy's bathroom. I gather her loofa, body wash, shampoo and conditioner, and the rest of her hygiene products, tossing them all in the basket. Walking back into her bedroom, I see she's refocused on the wall again.

"Come on, darlin'," I whisper, taking the blanket off her. She shivers softly as I lean and scoop her into my arms.

"I don't want to," she moans softly against my neck.

"Can we just try?" I ask as I set her on the toilet seat lid in the bathroom.

"I can't," she sobs weakly. "Not alone." I stare at her for a moment before sighing and standing. I kick off my shoes and socks before removing my shirt. "What are you doing?" She asks as I slide my pants and boxers off.

"I'm getting in with you. I'll take care of you, I promise." Indy nods and allows me to remove her old pajamas. I walk over and grab her toothbrush and paste before turning and crouching in front of her. "Open up, baby," I see the shame on her face and hold her cheek as I brush her teeth. "Did you think less of my mama when you had to help clean up her messes, change, or bathe her?" I ask softly and hand her a cup of water so she can swish it in her mouth before spitting it back into the cup.

"Of course not," she states, her brows wrinkled. "Your mom is so sweet and amazing. I felt honored to help her and your dad. She's a strong woman who just needed some help."

"Exactly," I whisper, kissing her forehead. "And you are, too. You're the strongest woman I've ever met, and I feel honored to be able to help you." I watch her eyes go glassy, and she moves her head away. Deciding now isn't the time to push, I stand and lift her up and step into the tub. I let the water hit me first so I can ensure it's a comfortable temperature. I stand Indy up, my arm wrapped firmly around her waist, as I reach out and grab the removable shower head.

"Can you hold this for a second?" I whisper into her ear before handing it to her and lowering myself into the tub. I reach up and grip her, helping her rest in between my spread thighs while taking the shower head and beginning the task of running the water over her body and through her thick hair. I feel her fingers curl over my knees as she rests her head on my chest. I set the shower head down by my side while I grab her shampoo and massage the product into her scalp. She lets out a soft moan.

I glare at my cock, daring the mother fucker to so much as twitch. She needs help, you sick bastard! We aren't taking advantage of this situation!

Once I finish with her hair, leaving the conditioner in, I grab her loofah and her body wash and begin washing her small body while thinking of the step-by-step instructions to clean a fish to keep my cock at bay. It's not working.

Her light giggle is a sound I feel like I haven't heard in months. Instantly, I look at her, "What?" I ask as she chuckles softly again.

"Each time I feel like your boner can't get harder, it does."

"Oh my god," I groan, embarrassment filling my body. "Listen, it's not that I'm thinking… Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a pervert." Indy rests her head against my chest and smiles up at me.

"I know." She whispers softly. "I know it's a natural reaction, and it's the comedic relief I need right now."

"Well," I cough uncomfortably. "I can honestly say my dick has never been called comedic relief before." Indy snorts lightly.

"Good. I wouldn't want to get jealous because someone else found your penis funny." I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of my chest as I rinse the conditioner from her hair.

"I really don't like you right now." I tease as I finish cleaning her. Once done, I dry her off, wash her face, and carry her to the bedroom. After putting on her panties and moisturizer, I begin the tedious task of adding all the products to her wild mane before grabbing one of my t-shirts and plopping her hair. I've watched several videos and still couldn't figure out the plopping thing, so Janie had to walk me through it today, all while having her shit-eating grin on her face. Once her hair is secure and her moisturizer is absorbing into her skin, I grab her pajamas to help get her in them, and she lets out a small gasp, causing me to jump.

"Are these my present?" She asks, her eyes round. I furrow my brows.

"No, I mean, I got them for you, but no, baby. I told you I made you something. I just saw these and thought you'd like them." I wrap the top around her and start buttoning up the front. I reach the top button, and Indy leans forward, pressing her lips to mine. Fuck. I haven't felt her lips in days, and I had no idea how much I missed them. I hold the sides of her face in my hands instantly as I return the kiss, hoping she can feel how much she means to me.

"Thank you," she whispers breathlessly as she breaks our kiss, "For everything."

I kiss her forehead. "Come on, we can order some food, and I'll show you what I made."

"Wait," she raises a brow. "Order food to be delivered?"

"If it gets you to eat, baby girl, I'll eat the discarded restaurant food they throw in the dumpsters."