Chapter 15 Dom

Chapter 15

Dom

Trying to clear the sleep from my eyes I rub them again, certain that I’m still asleep and dreaming. If not, there’s something wrong with my eyes, because what I’m seeing isn’t making any sense.

Last summer Indie didn’t protest when I took her phone and held it in front of her face, unlocking it to add my contact. She was still a little sleepy and very blissed out from orgasms. Nothing like when the post-sex-high wore off and she flipped the switch, going back to not being able to stand me.

Fumbling with my phone, I yank it from the charger and answer, afraid she’s going to change her mind like she did then.

“It only took you a year to use this number. I’d have bet my signing bonus that you deleted it the second you walked out of my house.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” she says, her voice unsteady.

Something’s wrong. Indie doesn’t show weakness, not with me.

“Things must be pretty serious then. What do you need?”

“Can you come get me? ”

My throat thickens at the utter defeat in her voice. She sounds worse than she did after she and Bri broke up.

She doesn’t have to ask twice. I’m up and out of bed pulling on a shirt and grabbing my duffle bag for the stadium in case I don’t have time to come back.

“I’m on my way. Where are you?” Her breathing is labored as she rattles off the name of a recreation area that I recognize. “That’s close. It’ll take me maybe ten minutes. Are you okay?”

“No. My ankle is messed up. But I’m going to work my way down the trail. I just need to grab my bike and I’ll meet you at the parking lot—”

“Sit down,” I bark, interrupting her. “Find a rock and wait. What trail are you on? I’ll come up to get you.”

“But I have my bike.”

“Leave it, I’ll buy you a new one.” My tone softens as I open the garage and jump into the truck.

“That’s not happening,” she argues back and dammit, I wish she was mine so I could fuck that sass right out of her. There’s no telling how badly she’s actually hurt. The stubborn streak that runs through her is as wide as the Rockies and is going to have her downplaying her injury.

“Then I’ll carry you and it. Just don’t fucking move.” When she doesn’t agree right away, my patience grows thin. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

“I prefer a ‘yes, sir,’ but that works.” Concern has me pushing the gas pedal down. She must be in bad shape if she’s not going to snap back at me for that.

She stays on the phone while I drive but doesn’t say much other than giving me short answers about what happened and where she is. When I pull into the parking lot, I take off at a run uphill toward the trail.

“Indie!” I call as I get to an area she described.

“Here,” she says, drawing my eye to where she’s tucked into a corner, her ass in the dirt and her ankle propped up on a rock.

“Shit, Baby.” The term of endearment I’ve only used with her once slips out when I see the mottled red skin around her swollen ankle .

“It’s not that bad.” When she shifts her position, the wince on her face says otherwise.

“Let’s get you out of here and to a doctor to check it out.” Squatting down next to her I drape her arm around my neck, carefully helping her up.

“That’s not happening. No doctor.”

Arguing with her won’t get us anywhere, and right now, I need to get her out of here and find ice for her ankle.

“You’re not really in a position to fight me right now.”

“I hate you.” But even as she says it, she lets her head fall to my shoulder giving me more of her weight. Exhaustion makes her body sag, as the adrenaline from her accident ebbs.

“No, you don’t, but it’s okay. I like the idea of role playing with you.”

“How do you plan to get me and my bike out of here?”

“Vampire style. Let’s go spider monkey.”

“As long as you promise not to bite me.”

“But you like it when I—” If looks could kill. “Noted, not in the mood.”

“How come that’s never worked before?”

“Call it a hunch, but it seems like you have enough to deal with. Now, where is your bike?” She points to where it’s wedged upside down between a few tree branches. “That’s a funny place to park a bike.”

It’s everything I hoped it would be when she weakly chuckles against my chest. “Why don’t you just take a load off for a second while I fish that out for you?” Easing her on to the rock she had her ankle propped up on, I hop over the brush to get her bike. With it out of the pickers, I prop it against a tree and help her on to my back. Reaching behind me with one arm I support her as much as I can so she doesn’t jostle her leg too much.

“I’m going to go nice and slow for you, okay? You tell me if it’s too much.”

Her breath hitches against the heated curve of my neck before she nuzzles in closer, her lips brushing my neck from the position the helmet she’s still wearing is forcing her into.

“I can take it.”

“Don’t I know it.” I mumble, adjusting my hold on her .

“Stop,” she groans, but I can feel her cheeks swell with a smile from where she’s pressed against me.

The walk back to the truck is slow and my hand aches from having to hold Indie and steer the bike with one hand. Both Indie and I are covered in sweat from the blistering sun when we get back to the truck.

Opening the tailgate, I lower her to it, helping her lift her leg so it’s not dangling off the back. For the first time since I found her on the trail, I get a good look at her. My knuckles graze her jaw as I unbuckle her helmet. Turning it over in my hands I look at the damage.

“You hit your head.” There are jagged edges where her visor snapped. My teeth grind together, frustrated with myself, I should have checked that before moving her. Taking a spot on the tailgate next to her, my fingers comb through the damp hair stuck to her forehead and run my thumb over her temples. “I’m taking you to the stadium with me.”

“What? No. That is not the plan.” She tries to pull away from my touch.

“So damn stubborn. If you’re not coming with me, then I’m going with you to the hospital. Coach will probably be pissed. I’ll definitely get a fine . . .”

With a dramatic flare I would expect from me, not her, she throws her head back in exasperation. “And I’m the stubborn one?”

“You’re right, we both are, but you owe me—your knight in shining armor—because I came to your rescue.” Gently I brush some dirt from her shoulder making her bite her lip when it reveals another injury, this one a deep scrape.

“Jesus woman. What were you trying to do?”

“It was the squirrel, not me.” Her head drops into her hands.

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting checked out. A squirrel didn’t do this to you. Maybe we should go straight to the ER, have them do a full workup.”

“If I come with you, that’s it, you used your one chance to hold this over me.”

“Hmmm. Sounds reasonable, but I have some other demands.” My eyes drag over every inch of her making sure there aren’t more injuries I’m missing, but she’s a mess, so it’s hard to say.

“Not surprised at all,” she deadpans. At least her spunk is intact.

“You’ll let the trainer check you out. And you’ll stay until the game is over.”

“Then you’ll bring me home and this will all be over?”

“Not a chance. We need to see what the trainer says first. You’ll do whatever he recommends, even if that means you need help to do it.”

Coach gives me a look that I know means I’m going to have some questions to answer, but doesn’t stop me when a hobbling Indie joins me in the locker room.

“Nuts and butts away. There’s a lady coming in,” I announce as I help Indie through the door. With her pressed to my side, my arm around her waist, I can feel the groan. But it’s not pain, it’s annoyance.

Indies eyes go wide with panic. “Not ready to face the music?” I guess.

“Not really.” She scans the room, her relief palpable when she doesn’t spot any of my teammates.

Thankfully, the training room is near the entrance of the locker room, set away from where we dress, and we’re early enough that we don’t see any of the guys. “Hey, Grant, give me a hand,” I say to our trainer as I lift Indie onto the exam table.

“Great, twice in one day,” she mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Oh, just my dignity being left on an exam table for the second time today.”

“What’s going on Dom?” Grant asks, drying his hand as he walks over and stopping me from being able to ask Indie what she means. “Oh, ouch that looks painful,” he comments, placing a gentle hand on Indie’s outstretched foot.

“She was mountain biking and—”

“A squirrel ran out in front of me. I ended up in one tree and my bike ended up in another,” she cuts in.

“And she hit her head,” I interject.

“My visor broke when I hit the ground. He’s making a bigger deal out of this than necessary. It’s feeding the hero complex that goes along with his Flynn Rider haircut.” The exasperation in her tired voice is reassuring. She can’t be too badly hurt if she’s still fighting with me.

“Maybe we let the medical professional do his job.” I tilt my head to Grant.

“Fine,” Indie gives in, arms crossing over her chest and laying back on the table.

While Grant does his thing, I grab a towel and run it under some water. Stepping up to the other side of the table I gently run it over her arms. Each scuff and scratch I uncover only makes me want to pull her into my arms, and take her home where I can lock her away and take care of her.

When this is all over, we are going to have a little chat about what the hell had her thinking it was a smart idea to be out on that trail alone.

Lifting her hand in mine I wipe the dirt and pebbles off. The vibrations that come from the watch take me by surprise.

“Shit, that’s probably my dad.” Her eyes drop to where our hands are connected. “Well, either answer it or give me my hand back.”

Pressing the green button I keep working, treating each finger with the same care.

“Hey, Dad.”

“I’m an old man, Indie. You can’t keep testing my heart like this and then not call with an update.” Her dad’s voice is filled with fatherly concern for his daughter.

“Sorry.” It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her sound so vulnerable, and part of me knows I should give her space for this conversation, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her side until I know she’s okay. “I’m getting checked out now.”

“Do they know about the squirrel nonsense? Make sure they check your head. You know what, put me on speaker so they can hear me.”

“You’re already on speaker, it’s a watch, Dad. And why does no one believe me about the squirrel?”

“Hey, sir. My name is Dom. I’m one of Indie’s friends. We’re getting her checked out right now.” I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “We know about the squirrel.” Building slowly it starts with rolling her lips together, and then spreads to the corners of her mouth before I finally get what I’m working for—a stunning smile, followed immediately by Indie’s fist connecting with my bicep.

“I showed you the acorn. You said you believed me.”

Grant shoots me a questioning look and I duck my head in a quick nod.

“Nice to meet you, Dom. Are you going to stay with her until she’s cleared?”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving her side.” If only he knew how true that statement is.

“Good,” he says, pausing before he addresses his daughter again. “You and I aren’t done talking. I want to hear about your meeting and your check-up today. Was everything okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, we’ll talk later.” She sucks in a sharp breath when Grant manipulates her foot. Which is now bare, and it looks even worse, the swelling and bruising extending to her toes.

“Without doing imaging, I can’t say for sure, but based on what I’m seeing, it’s probably a severe sprain. You should still go get it looked at,” he cautions, moving on to her head, asking questions and checking her eyes. “You’re going to need to stay off of it for at least a few weeks. Limit weight bearing activity as much as possible. Definitely no riding or any other high-impact activities. I’m not seeing any signs of a head injury, but someone should keep an eye on you.”

“She’s going to hang out here during the game.” I look at Grant. Who nods. “Unless you’d prefer I see if I can get you in a box. I’m sure Lilah would join you.”

“Here is fine. I’m not sure I’m up for much else.” Peace of mind that she’s going to be close by isn’t enough to dull the sadness I’m feeling for her. She’s the picture of defeat, her shoulders sagging and her eyes on her ankle. It’s a look I’ve never seen her wear.

“Can I get you anything before I get ready for warm-ups? Grant, can you grab her some ibuprofen?”

He comes back with water for her to take the pills and wraps her ankle. “I’m going to set her up in the dark room. Can you check on her every so often? If she’s feeling up to it later she can watch the game in the media room.”

“What is the dark room?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Scooping her up from the table, I’m relieved when she doesn’t fight me. We pass Xavier in the hallway, and he gives me a questioning look. But he’s smart enough to not say anything, for now. I’m sure it’s coming. “We use it to rest before games or between practices, but tonight it’s all yours. No one will bother you here. And Grant can help you if you need anything between innings.” Lowering her to one of the couches, I prop her leg with a pillow and grab her a blanket.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll see you after we win,” I say softly, her eyes already heavy.