Chapter 45

Tank

I fucking hate painkillers. I hate the way they make me feel like I’m flying, the dry mouth I get, the weird ass dreams I have. I hate it all, but I’ve also learned my body needs to rest. And fuck, I’m tired. More than anything, I’m tired – exhausted even.

“Want to take the sweatpants off?” Blaze asks as she follows me into the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m gonna get hot. I do every time I take these damn things. They make me sweat like a meth addict.”

We’ve cut the legs off this pair to make them into shorts, but it still takes both of us working to get them down my legs, past my cast, and off my feet. I grab onto the waistline of the boxers I wear to keep them from going with them. Laying down, I help her as best I can by adjusting my leg so that it’s propped up.

“You comfortable?”

“I’m fucking tired,” I yawn, putting my arm up over my eyes. “Tired, sore, and damn sorry you have to wait on me hand and foot.”