Page 27 of Alpha & Omega (Alpha's Rejects #4)

I’d been at the hospital for a week, steeped in worry about money and the looming depression. No, not looming. It saturated straight into my soul. Everything as I knew it had changed for the worse. I’d literally have to learn to walk again. They said it would be over a year by the time I finished with my rehabilitation—a year of financial burdens. A year of taking too much time off from work. A year of fear, doubts, and pain.

I still wore the cast, which would come off next week.

How could I even get to rehab? My car was totaled, my family didn’t own any cars, and I didn’t want to ask Harley to cart my ass around. We’d only been dating for three months. It was ridiculous to put so much burden on him.

What I fucking needed was to be left alone in my own apartment and in my own bed. I felt gross and contaminated being in the hospital for so long. I showered and took care of myself with the help of nurses, and I’d already been through some physical therapy—all so that I could do those tasks I’d taken for granted my entire life, which would be more difficult with only one leg. Even so, I needed to take it easy with my concussion.

Even worse, I grew tired of seeing my family every fucking day. Seeing their faces full of fear, sadness, and worry, looking at me as if I carried all their fucking answers and held the world up for them. I couldn’t help them anymore. They needed to land on their feet on their own from now on. Eventually, there would be no more Alpha’s. Once my income was gone, so would my insurance. Then I would be truly fucked. My crew needed to learn to care for themselves finally, find their own jobs, and pay their own medical expenses.

But before all that happened, Harley would leave me, too. Who wanted to be with someone so dependent? We weren’t fucking married. He had a son to take care of and a restaurant to run. I needed to start imagining life without him. Maybe it would hurt less when he finally walked away.

Harley entered my room and kissed the top of my shaved head, making me want to cry again. I hadn’t cried in years, and now I cried all the fucking time. I recognized the depression, but I didn’t care enough to fix it. Not anymore. I wanted to soak in my pain. All that work I’d done with my life, along with the improvements I’d made, including caring for others while striving to be successful and show the world that even foster care kids could make it, was over and wasted. What had been the point of it all, only to come crashing back down to the ground and lose it all? I was too tired to try again—fucking exhausted.

Sure, there would be some sort of payout from the insurance of the dead drunk driver, I assumed, but that could take a year or more. By the time I received anything to cover my medical expenses, my bar would be lost to me.

“Ready to finally go home, Skaterboy?”

I wasn’t a skater boy anymore. Those days were over .

Despite my silence, passive-aggressively pushing Harley away, he refused to fucking budge. He remained as sweet, kind, and patient as ever. Perhaps more so.

I said nothing as I pulled a T-shirt on over my head. My body still ached from the crash and surgery, but it had eased up some, and the pain meds they had me on helped.

“Here, let me help you get your shorts on.”

“I can get dressed myself,” I snapped, instantly regretting it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. Let me know if you need help.” Despite his words, he looked hurt.

I needed to just bite the fucking bullet. It was best to plunge into freezing water instead of easing into it. “You should go.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have to be anywhere today,” he said, completely missing my point.

“No, I mean you should go… for good.”

I didn’t watch for the expected hurt in his pretty eyes. I was being a dick, but it was better this way. He shouldn’t have to be here to take care of me. We hadn’t been together long enough for this. He should find someone who wasn’t a fucking train wreck because life was going to get even more difficult from here on out. Maybe if I were a dick, it would be easier for him to leave.

“You don’t mean that.” His words were a whisper, and I felt the pain in them.

“I do.”

“You don’t. I know you care about me and that you’re hurting. We’ll talk about this when we get you home.”

“No talking. It’s over between us. Go home, Harley. Go home to your son and your life.”

The stubborn bastard grabbed my face with two hands and forced me to look at him. “We will talk about this when we get you home. If you think I’m walking away from you, especially at your lowest, then fuck you. If you think you’re doing some sacrificial noble deed on my behalf to make my life easier, well… fuck you again. We will talk about this when we get to your place. End of story. ”

How did someone say ‘ fuck you ’ to your face and still sound kind and sweet? Harley managed it.

Without letting go of my face, he bent forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “I love you, and I’m not leaving you.”

My lips trembled, and my eyes watered, so I looked away in shame when he let me go to pack up my meager belongings.

“I’ve already got your walker and crutches loaded up in the car, and I’ve got your medical goodies in that bag on the table.”

I only nodded, unable to talk, or else I’d fucking break… again.

Once I was ready, a nurse came in with a wheelchair. “I’m here to escort you to your car. You’ve already been checked out and been given your medications along with care instructions. The doctor has set your appointment to come back in a week to remove your cast. Then, we’ll set you up with a physical and occupational therapist to get you walking again and strengthen your body, but you also need to work at home. She should’ve added exercises to your list of instructions.”

I said nothing, getting helped into the wheelchair. I’d been practicing getting in and out of it so I could do this at home.

“And a reminder to keep your chair or walker by your bed while you’re sleeping. Falling could send you back to us for another surgery. It’s not uncommon for people to forget they don’t have two legs anymore and try to walk.”

She rolled me out of the hospital, and I suddenly itched for a smoke. I hadn’t cared while I’d been in recovery, too drugged up to notice. Now, it was all I thought about, but I wasn’t allowed if I wanted to heal, so no more smoking for me. It was shit for my health, anyway.

The late August day was humid and hot as hell. I blinked at the brightness and Harley handed me my sunglasses. I put them on as he rushed off to get the car.

“Do you have any questions before you leave?” the nurse asked.

I shook my head.

Surprisingly, she rested a hand on my shoulder. “You’re in for a rough road. It’s never easy to lose a piece of your body. But you can do this and have a normal life again. You’ll be able to walk and do almost all that you used to. Even athletes can still do what they love with practice and determination. You can, too. You’re very strong and healthy, and you’re still young. Don’t let this deter or hinder you.”

I already knew that, but that didn’t change the fact I was about to lose more than my leg. None of it mattered anymore. Everything was all out of control.

I sat upright on my bed, finally at home with the TV on, but I wasn’t paying attention to it. Harley walked in, carrying a tray full of food, but instead of feeling grateful, it only made me angry. He was trying so hard, but I couldn’t let him waste his life on me.

“I’m staying with you for a while. Your doctor doesn’t want you alone, at least until you’ve recovered from your concussion. Good thing my restaurant is right downstairs. How convenient!” he chuckled.

He put the tray on my lap. The food looked so good, too.

“I figured comfort food is best. This is homemade chicken pot pie, a small salad, and some fruit. We need to keep up your strength and health. You’re going to need it.”

“You don’t need to cook for me.”

“As if you can right now. Who else, if not me?”

“Dammit, Harley. Don’t waste yourself on me. This isn’t just about my fucking leg! My medical expenses will be more than I can handle. I’m going to lose my fucking bar. Those kids are going to be out of work! I’ve fucking failed everyone! You’ve got a life… a successful one. And you have Hudson, who you need to take care of. Just stop it. Go home.”

He sighed and scooped out a bit of chicken, vegetables, and pastry. “Eat.”

“Stubborn…”

Harley snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry, but who’s being stubborn? It’s definitely not me. Now eat.”

I opened my mouth and let him feed me. “I can feed myself,” I said with my mouthful.

“Then do it,” he snapped. “I think you need to eat and get rest first, but let’s talk, since you’re so intent on pushing me away. Do you believe I don’t know what’s at stake? Do you believe I haven’t looked into what it’s going to take to help someone who has to learn how to walk again? Do you really believe I would just shrug and walk away from someone I love and care about because he’s reached a dark moment in his life? If so, then you give me little fucking credit. And I’m a little stung you would think so lowly of me. You should know my character by now that I don’t back away from people simply when things get fucking hard. Look at what I had to go through with Hudson. Yeah, you and I haven’t been together very long, but I know how I feel about you, and I refuse to turn my back on you when you’re at your lowest, not that I want to. I don’t. Through all this, I want to be here for you, and I want you here for me, too, because I know you would be if the roles were reversed—no doubt about it. And you have. Look how you helped me after Ava returned. Dare to contradict me. I may be a romantic and such, but I’m no fucking pushover. Now, if you want me to leave because you can’t stand me, tell me now, and I’ll stick around until you can handle things on your own. But if you’re doing this because you’re feeling especially sacrificial, then once again… fuck you.”

And there went the fucking tears again. I put my hands to my face and sobbed, feeling completely unworthy of Harley, and like such an asshole.

He removed the tray from my lap, setting it aside, and crawled into bed with me, pulling me into him, and holding me with promises of never letting go, just like he always did. While comforting, my fear that he’d leave was visceral, despite me trying to push him away. I wasn’t sure I could take it when he did, down the road. It would be easier for it to happen now.

“I can only imagine what you’re going through, baby,” he whispered, stroking my back. “Life is going to be hard. There’s no point in sugarcoating it. But you’ve gotten through hard times before and came out swinging. You can do it again, but this time, you won’t be alone. You have me, your Rejects, and Tony. Hell, Hudson wants to help, too, because he likes you. Let us all take care of you, Skaterboy. Together, we’ll get you better and try to fix your financial problems. The only thing holding us back right now is you.”

I nodded on his chest. “I feel like such a shit. God, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re in a terrible and dark place right now, so I understand your reactions, and I’m not angry with you—a little hurt, maybe, but not angry. Does this mean you want to keep me?”

I huffed a wet laugh. “Yeah, I really do. I’m just so scared, Harley.”

“Me, too, baby, but we’ll get you through this together… me and your family.”

I love you, too . The words never left my lips, still drenched in fear despite Harley’s uplifting words. While I wanted to feel his hope, there was just nothing left in me. I was tapped out emotionally and mentally.

I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up to someone snuggling into me. My eyes fluttered open to the waning sunlight as evening approached. When I looked down at the person sleeping next to me, I’d expected it to be Harley, but the floppy red hair surprised me.

“Pippin?”

He suddenly bolted upright before rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He looked down at his hands that he’d rested on his lap. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you.”

“It’s fine. I understand why.”

Then his tears spilled. “God, I thought we’d lost you. I’ve been trying so hard not to freak out and use the coping tools my therapist has given me, but… it’s so hard. And your poor leg. Drinks run through my head, recipes, new ones. I make lists of them to find ways to make money, ways to stay open… ways to keep my brain staying on track. I can’t slip up, but I slipped up a lot, making the wrong drinks and making people mad. It’s not helping. I’m not helping. Harley sent me up here…”

I rested my hand on his to bring him back on track, his ADHD shining through despite his medications. Perhaps he forgot to take them.

“Who’s running the bar tonight, Pip?”

“Uhm… I can’t remember her name. She’s one of the bartenders who work at Harley’s. She volunteered.”

“Jesus Christ… he’s going to slay me with kindness.”

“He’s really nice and patient. We all like him.”

Pippin sat up, crossing his legs and hugging one of my pillows, burying his face in it, other than his green eyes peeking over the top. “What’s going to happen, Alpha? You always have the answers, and we’re… so lost without yo u.”

I pushed myself to sit up, leaning against my headboard and scrubbing my head. “I don’t have answers because I don’t know what’s going to happen. Before anything, I need to heal and learn to walk again. There just aren’t any answers. All this… it’s…”

He tried to hold back the tears that were falling. Fuck me. With a sigh, I lied to him instead. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure things out. Eventually, I’ll walk again, but it’s going to take a while. I’m sure we’ll get through this, okay?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him Alpha’s was going to fail because I couldn’t afford to keep it running anymore… or I wouldn’t soon once I was forced to shell out whatever my insurance company wouldn’t pay. Who knew when the other insurance company would handle things? After I woke from my coma, I’d talked to my insurance company about the accident.

“You don’t need to lie. We know you, Alpha, and I can tell when I’m being placated. Are you going to lose Alpha’s Rejects?”

My sigh was loud as I rested my head against the headboard. “I don’t know, Pip, but it’s not looking good. I was already struggling before the accident.”

“Because you take care of us?”

“I would do it over again if I had to. Don’t worry about that.”

Pippin sat up straighter and put the pillow back. “Then we’ll take care of you. I can come up with some new drinks! Maybe create a theme each week! Yeah! I’ll work more days… definitely.”

My eyes watered at his sudden enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing.”

“Shit, I better write that down before I forget.”

He pulled out his phone and wrote out a note on his app. His memory had gotten better since he’d been on meds, but they were never perfect since he’d suffered brain damage after getting electric shock therapy during conversion therapy. The assholes hadn’t known what they were doing—or they didn’t care.

“Can I hang out with you for a little longer?”

“Sure.”

“Can I get you something? Anything? Do you need water? Juice? Something to eat? I can make you a sandwich or something.”

“Some juice would be great.”

Tears slipped as he left my bedroom, so eager to be useful.

“I’m sorry I failed you, Pip,” I whispered.