Cheat [MxM] (Carter Brothers Book 1)

Chapter 34

Disclaimer: The medical and legal content of this chapter is not accurate and is altered to fit the fictional storyline of this book. Don't correct me in the comments, I'll delete them.

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JAE • POV

Ezra's pale face was tense and glowing a hot red over his high cheek bones as he rotated his left shoulder slowly for the physiotherapist assisting his forearm. Beads of sweat trickled from his hairline, and his brown curls, which were overgrown and ruggedly tousled from the hospital bed, made up a messy halo around his head.

I could practically hear his teeth grinding and the rapid thump of his healing heart as he exerted himself and tried his best to remain silent and composed through the exercise, although it was obvious to everyone in the room that he was consumed by pain.

I wanted to tell him to breathe, to reassure him and comfort him through the pain but he was frustrated, wound up and high on drugs that had made him less than appreciative of any kind of sympathy. So, I remained quiet, taking to knawing anxiously on my bottom lip instead.

Honestly, I couldn't blame him for his short temper. He was strung tight, battling the trauma of being recently shot, waking up from a month long coma and rushing to heal his broken body in an effort to chase the normalcy of his previous life.

He just wanted his family and his freedom back.

We were all struggling, all tense and all under pressure.

Although I couldn't voice my concerns outloud, in fear of having my head bitten off by the six-foot-four burly grump of a man I loved, I could offer to hold his free hand and physically be there for him. So, unable to bear watching him silently and stubbornly endure so much pain, I slipped my fingers into his large hand resting on his thick thigh and held on tightly.

Ezra's watering green eyes met my own briefly and I worked hard to keep a mutual expression as he critically scrutinised my intentions. His pupils were large, those gorgeous green irises glistening like emerald gems as he took me in.

Seeming to decide that he was in too much pain to resist and I was indeed allowed to hold his clammy hand this time, he clasped my fingers tightly and squeezed, before looking away with a wheezing sigh.

"That's it, Ezra. Just a few more seconds. You're doing great. Ten... Nine... Eight..." The physiotherapist crooned, earning himself a fierce glare from my now distracted boyfriend.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, relishing the feeling of his hot, damp palm squeezed tightly against my own. He was shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bed in a pair of sleep shorts that rode up his thick thighs. His chest was heavily wrapped in bandages, covering up healing incisions made from his surgery.

They'd fished out the bullet, stitched and stented a torn artery and pumped him full of blood. There were track marks up and down his arms from IVs and the blue and green bruising splashed against his pale, creamy skin was... visually upsetting to say the least.

"... Two. One. Great job Mister Carter. You should hydrate and take it easy for the rest of the day. I'll be back at the same time tomorrow. Keep this up and you'll be home in no time."

"I'd like to go home today," Ezra grunted, lowering his left arm. He placed his now free hand slowly over mine, as though he craved more comfort. I stroked my thumb back and forth over the back of his hand soothingly.

I'm here. 

The physiotherapist gave Ezra a pitying smile. They'd been having the same back and forth conversation for over a week now. Ezra had been insisting on getting back home as quickly as he could and the doctors, reminding him that he'd been shot and had life saving heart surgery, had refused, in good faith, to discharge him until they were happy with his healing and his mobility.