Page 27 of Heartfelt Pain (Ruling Love #3)

Ren

I wake up to the usual amount of texts and emails. The news is playing as I take an extra-long time, standing in the scalding hot water of the shower. My eyes seem perpetually red these days so I add some eye drops before I put on my eyeliner.

I add my favorite perfume and walk out to grab my phone.

I thought after yesterday things would calm down.

Isolde joined me at Fujimori’s. Ben remained noticeably absent, but the coward in me preferred it.

It’s awkward around Abe, but he stayed in the kitchen and we did that thing where we ignored the argument.

Yet, here I am, tired and weary the next morning.

Powering past things is how I’ve dealt with stuff the last few years. I’m hoping it’ll work now, but my expectations are currently low.

When my phone lights up with a text from Lennie, I debate ignoring it. That’s rude, though.

Lennie: I’m just checking in.

Lennie: Are you okay?

Lennie: Look at our new roommates.

There’s a photo of two cats.

Lennie: The black one is Jacks and the white one is Charles.

Ren: Aren’t you afraid Albert’s going to feel outnumbered?

Like I did at the party. I bite back my bitterness, knowing Len’s trying to be a good friend.

Lennie: He won’t if Elijah lets me get him a puppy brother like I want.

Considering she can get Elijah to do whatever she wants, I’m sure it won’t be an argument for long.

I let the texts die off. I’m in the kitchen when it happens. My high heel wobbles on something as I’m turning. It’s stupid considering I’m standing in the one area where there’s nothing on the floor.

The next thing I know, I’m on my ass. My tailbone is the first to ache but that is washed away by the red hot pulsing pain in my wrist.

My head hitting the lower kitchen cabinets does nothing to distract me from the agony. I’m on the ground, one leg under me, when the tears come.

It’s a short burst that dries up quickly. A physical reaction to the sharp unexpected pain coursing through my wrist.

If I reach up, I can grab my phone, but I stay there.

When shit like this happens I normally tell myself it’ll be fine. I’ll grab some ice, I’ll take some pain reliever. The car will be here in ten minutes.

Untangling my leg, the slightest movement has my eyes pricking again .

I’m so exceptionally screwed.

Trevino knocks on the door. When I don’t bother to answer, it opens. I’m guessing he either made himself a key or he jimmied the lock. It doesn’t matter.

It’s the first time I’ve seen something like anger and fear on the man’s face. At least at first.

After a second of stupidly staring up at him, he goes back to his typical grumpy demeanor.

My lashes are coated with tears, the mascara burning my eyes.

I’m afraid I ripped my pants on the fall down, but I’m too embarrassed to say anything.

And I’m sure my hair, the hair I spent thirty minutes drying and styling, is mussed from being smushed against the cabinets.

“I hurt my arm,” I whine like a baby.

His touch is gentle.

“There’s frozen peas in the freezer.” It’s a pathetic whimper.

He stands, appearing even taller from my vantage point, and grabs the peas. Wrapping a towel around them, he places it on my wrist.

“Hold on.” He grabs me, hauling me up.

I tear into my bottom lip, I bite down so hard. I’m going to need three plus pain pills to get through the morning alone.

But Trevino has other plans.

“We’re going to the hospital.”

“I’ve got a meeting.”

“Who should I call?” he asks, grabbing my bag and helpfully placing my phone in it. “Which one normally cancels for you?”

I wipe at my tear-stained face. Tiny baby steps are enough to jostle my arm, sending jolts of pain. “I’ve never canceled a meeting before.”

Trevino grabs my keys. “You’ve never cancelled a meeting? ”

I shake my head.

“In all the years of you owning your own business you’ve never once cancelled a meeting?”

I shake my head again. “I’m really good at my job.”

Clients know they can depend on me.

“Okay.” He slides his phone out. “We’re canceling all of today.” He ignores my cries. “And tomorrow.”

“That’s too much.” I don’t want to take one sick day let alone two.

“I hate to break it to you,” he says while sending a text off, “but your wrist is probably broken. If you’re lucky you’ll be drugged up on some good pain killers soon. You’ll want the same tomorrow too.”

“It’s not broken.” I sniff.

He wraps a jacket around my shoulders. “Careful when we get down there. It’s rained off and on all night.”

The whole interaction is reminiscent of a parent prodding their toddler along. He guides me into the hallway, my bag hanging off his shoulder. If only they could see the Ghost now. After locking my door, we continue into the elevator.

The doorman’s already holding the door open.

I’m holding back tears as I get into the black SUV. It’s stupid. How painful this is.

My head rolls onto the headrest, but otherwise, I stay still. Every single little poke and prod is enough to make me hate myself. Trevino speaks Spanish to the driver. Luis is trying to drive as smoothly as he can. This is New York City, though. Even gridlocked, cars are aggressive.

“We passed the hospital.”

Trevino is on his phone again. “We’re not going to that one.”

“Which one are we going to?” I’ve gotten lucky. Other than my primary physician my time in the city has come hospital free. I’m not sure which is the best to go to, but Trevino, like always, is confident in his choices.

“I’ve got a guy here,” he says as Luis angles us close to the door.

I frown as he gets out. “Is this part of your bodyguard platinum package?” That’s a ritzy service if it comes with his own doctor.

It turns out, though, that’s not quite the case. Even at seven in the morning, the ER lobby is full. Trevino speaks quietly to the front desk before leading me to a chair.

“I can do that.”

He’s already filling out paperwork.

“You don’t even know all that.”

He angles the clipboard so I can see that he does in fact know how to answer the questionnaire.

“How do you know all that?” I demand to know.

He keeps filling it out.

“I could’ve done it,” I argue for no reason.

“Here, fill out the rest then.”

I’m clutching my wrist and don’t feel inclined to try to write. He smirks, the pen moving across the paper as he finishes filling it out.

I close my eyes, trying to find my inner peace instead of crying at every prick of pain.

The strategy works for a good ten minutes but then I pick my head up. My phone is right on top when I open my bag.

Ren: I hurt my wrist.

Ren: Trevino made me go to the hospital.

I’m not sure why there’s an urge to send this status update to Roma. But pain does funny things to a person. Makes them crave comfort in the only places they can.

Roma: Where? I’ll come.

Ren: No.

Ren: It’s okay. It’s silly.

Roma: Did you break it?

Ren: I doubt it. I think it’s for insurance reasons on his end of things. He doesn’t want to be liable for damages you know.

“Are you serious?” Trevino mutters.

Roma: Are you in pain?

Like you wouldn’t believe.

Ren: I cancelled my meetings.

Roma: Can I come over tonight?

I told Trevino to keep him out of the building last night. I thought I might spend the time reading for book club, but I ended up going straight to bed. I woke up at three in the morning, tired and alone.

I texted him because there’s this sick part of me that wants a person. Someone to hold me. But I hang on to my personal space for just a little longer.

Ren: No. I’m okay.

Ren: Trevino already agreed to make me mac and cheese

Trevino snorts.

“Mind your own business,” I huff back.

Roma: Hellcat, you’re fucking dreaming if you think I’m letting another man make you mac and cheese.

That’s a bit territorial.

The phone lights up with a call. Abe.

“Hello.” I clear my throat. My sinuses are just as much of a wreck as my wrist.

“You cancelled all your meetings for today?” The kitchen is already up and running. Voices mix in the background and the sounds of chopping and music play.

“Yeah.” I’m not sure who Trevino notified or what he said. “I hurt my wrist.”

Abe pauses. “Is it bad?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

There’s a burst of Japanese. I recognize Abe’s dad. They’re arguing, but this time I get the distinct feeling that it’s over me.

“Okay, where are you at?” Abe asks a second later.

“No, it’s fine.” I move the slightest, my back stiff. I can’t believe I’m still wearing high heels.

“You’re at the hospital, bitch,” Abe snaps back. “I’m calling Ben.”

He hangs up with no further notice. I sigh and place my head on Trevino’s shoulder. The grumpiness comes off him in waves but he stays still until a nurse calls us back.

I’m brought in and vitals are taken. At this point, I’m not so patiently waiting for those pain pills. The nurses ogle Trevino who stands out, a hulking hunk of a man in the beige hospital.

There’s noise outside the door at one point.

“Is that the doctor?” I ask.

“No.”

“How do you know? ”

“Because that’s not the doctor,” he replies. Sure enough, I hear a nurse whisper and then a huff.

“You mean that’s not the doctor you want?” I narrow my eyes. “Who are we waiting for?”

There’s a knock on the door and then Tyler Mulligan appears.

“What the fuck?” Did they already slip me the pain meds or what? “When the fuck did you become a doctor?”

This is the guy who normally serves me drinks at a sex club. And I thought that was when he wasn’t working as a triggerman.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as he walks up. Shit, I’m sure there’s a lot of patients with high blood pressure when he walks into the room.

“What are you doing here?” he asks but glances at Trevino. I know they’re friends because Russet once thought he might be the Ghost. And he helped pass on Daisy’s will when Trevino got a hold of it. He didn’t even worry about coming into contact with the Russians.

“I want pain meds,” I tell him. Since latching onto the idea, I’ve sat around panting for the damn things.

“You’re not going to get a good review if you let your clients go around and get hurt,” Tyler says over his shoulder. His friend remains standing in the corner, his arms crossed.

“She’s her own worst nightmare,” he says.

My mouth drops open. “Rude!”

Tyler peels the frozen peas away from my arm.

“My peas,” I mutter when they end up in the trash.

“You weren’t going to eat them anyway,” Trevino says.

“You weren’t going to eat them,” I crankily reply.

“Right.” Tyler straightens. “You’re going to need an X-ray.”

“Are you a real doctor?” I ask.

“How have you and Tristan gotten on? ”

It’s amusing hearing someone call Trevino by his first name. Not that the bodyguard agrees.

“Is he always this grumpy?” I ask Tyler.

“He’s actually learned to let a lot go.”

“Her blood pressure also needs to be checked,” Trevino tells him.

“What?” we both ask at the same time.

“She gets dizzy when she stands up.”

“I do not!”

Tyler frowns. “How much water do you drink?”

Betrayal twists into me like a knife. “Not you too!”

“Her body is lucky if she gets one glass a day,” Trevino informs him. “But she works twelve hours a day.”

“You’re so fucking fired.”

He shrugs. “Why do you think your friends are so worried you’ll have a heart attack?”

“Right.” Tyler says, reading my chart. “Your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated for obvious reasons right now. Any headaches or blurry vision, ever?”

“No.”

Trevino clears his throat.

“I’m going to fucking murder you.” He thinks I’m kidding. I’ve got the name of almost every hired gun in the city.

“Okay, we’re going to start with an X-ray to see what’s going on,” Tyler orders. “We’ll get to the pain meds from there. Do you have a primary physician that you can speak to about your blood pressure?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Trevino answers at the same time.

“Can you hand me my phone,” I ask Tyler. I’m texting Isolde right this second to come deal with him.

Tyler’s sigh reminds me of his best friend. “You had to come here of all places. ”

Trevino places a hand over his heart. It’s the first mocking gesture I’ve seen him make. “You said we needed to see each other more.”

“I said you needed to get a life,” he says under his breath.

“What does that mean?” I ask, my lips curving up into a smile at the smell of gossip. Trevino doesn’t say another word until I’m discharged.