“Sounds like he saved you.”
My gaze shot to Arthur’s. “He did. And he didn’t ask for anything in return. Then he introduced me to his friend Marty. Marty had a spare room, so I moved there. He trained dogs for stage and screen, and that’s how I got interested in animal behavior. He gave me tons of lessons and I sort of thought he’d bring me in as a partner in his business. But then he met Lynette and they decided to move to the country. Suddenly, he didn’t have room for me. He took his business with him.”
“That must’ve been tough.”
“Well, I was older by then. Able to strike out on my own—but not with enough experience to pass myself off as a professional trainer. I’d been studying psych behavior classes at night to use while dog training.” Impotence welled within me. “But when Marty left, I lost my cheap room as well. By the time I found somewhere I could afford, attending school became really hard. I took a few more classes, but after six years, I barely had two years’ worth of schooling. You need at least a master’s degree in psych to do anything worthwhile. So, I quit school, quit the dead-end job I’d been working, and I found a good sales job. I was starting to make some decent commissions when life kicked me in the balls again.”
“I really am afraid to ask.” Arthur’s blue eyes radiated compassion.
Do I really need to keep going? Why not just say “and that’s how I got to Gaynor Beach” and leave him to fill in the blanks?
Because he deserved more. Hell, if I was honest, so did I.
From a practical standpoint, Cheyenne knew a lot about what had happened next. I didn’t want Arthur to know less about my life than my sister did.
“I got appendicitis. Being a manly man, though, I just figured it was indigestion. My girlfriend at the time, Becca, tried to talk me into going to the doctor. But I had a work shift and a ridiculously high deductible with my crappy health insurance and…I took some antacids and went to work.”
“Uh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Nope. I wound up on the floor, incapable of moving. Paramedics had to come and rush me to the hospital. I told them I was allergic to penicillin and it was written in my chart, but someone missed the note so, after surgery, they were pumping me full of antibiotics to deal with the ruptured appendix and they gave me Zosyn IV. Which is a penicillin.”
“Oh shit.”
For Arthur to swear, he had to know how big of a deal that had been.
“Anaphylactic shock. Throat swelled up, got dizzy, vomited. I couldn’t breathe, went into circulatory collapse.” My heartrate kicked up a notch as I remembered the sheer panic. I’d flailed despite the searing pain in my gut, my air choked off, my body weakening until I couldn’t fight. I hadn’t understood why I couldn’t breathe, but I’d understood I was dying. Hell, by the time I passed out, I’d thought that was it. In my mind, I said goodbye to Cheyenne and figured that was the end of my life. Funny…Becca, Marty, and the rest of my family hadn’t factored into any of those final frantic thoughts.
Just Cheyenne, the little sister who’d idolized me, whom I didn’t get to see grow up.
“They got me breathing again, but things were dicey and I wound up in intensive care for three days. I was so sick—nauseous and hurting, delirious with a high fever, infection, and kidney damage. Becca bailed on day three. Nice woman. Very sweet. Not into drama in the least.”
“Having your boyfriend critically ill was drama?”
I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “It was abundantly clear she wasn’t invested in our relationship.” I took a deep breath. “Frankly, I wasn’t all that invested either. I didn’t love her, not enough. I didn’t mourn losing her as much as not having someone at my side while I faced the mess I was in.” Between the weakness, the pain, and the nightmares of being choked to death.
“Still, to ditch someone when they’re in intensive care…” He winced.
“Yep. But as she walked out the door, in waltzed my parents.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“All was forgiven and they were there to take care of me.” I rubbed my forehead for the millionth time. “And in that moment, I bought it. Wanted their help, even. In truth, I didn’t have the next month’s rent, the job had been good but fighting for commissions was brutal, and I was so sick I could barely sit up. New York’s an at-will employment state. I couldn’t expect them to hold my job for me through recovery. The idea of someone taking care of me—even people as fucked-up as my parents—sounded good. And they brought Cheyenne, so grown I almost didn’t recognize her but still my little sister. They knew how to manipulate me…and it worked.”
“They were manipulating you? Why?”
“One of their prepper friends was a nurse at the hospital—a source of drugs and health supplies for when Armageddon comes. She told them they could make a bunch of money off me. I had no idea at the time. I actually thought they might still see me as family.” I took in a sharp breath, forcing myself to face the memories. “So I went home. Spent two weeks in my old bed with Cheyenne taking care of me. I had time with her I never thought to have. I got to know her as an almost-adult. She’d just turned seventeen. A spitfire. I cautioned her to get her high school degree and then, if she wanted, that I’d come and get her. Hell, I didn’t have any right to make that promise, but I did.”
“Well, she’s here now.” Arthur eyed me. “I don’t understand why your parents really thought you were worth bringing home.”
“You mean aside from Becca making me look straight? Well, that nurse said the hospital lawyers were preparing to offer me a big settlement. No question them administering that drug was malpractice and caused significant harm.” I grinned without humor. “My folks saw a huge payout in the future, one they’d control if they controlled me.”
Arthur winced. “Were you considering suing the hospital?”
“Hiring a lawyer and shit?” I sighed. “That might’ve taken years. The final kidney damage wasn’t too bad, I was still alive, and I had my strength back. But I could have, and they knew it. They offered to cover my medical care plus a decent payout. Which was when I discovered my parents were planning to take the settlement.”
He chuckled. A grating sound because it was scorn and not amusement. “Of course they were.”
“Right? So, once I was healed, I bailed the hell out of Piperston. I stayed with a New York friend on his couch until the money came through. Then I sent five hundred to my parents for their hassle, gave my friend as much as he would let me, and bought a used SUV. I chucked my very few belongings in the back, picked Gaynor Beach, as far away as I could get, and left New York in the rearview mirror.”
