Nixon: An m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 19
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, wiping my face once my tears have slowed.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I understand why you’re beating yourself up, but there is no way you could have known that vehicle was going to gun it. No one could have pulled him back fast enough unless they were a superhero,” she tells me, but it’s still hard to believe.
I don’t say anything else. I simply keep my eyes on my boy. “I love you, Dante,” I whisper as I rub my thumb over the top of his hand.
I hope the universe is done playing games with my heart and brings Dante out of this alive. I also pray he forgives me for letting this happen.
Chapter 28
Dante
Buzzing, beeping, and the soft sound of snoring fills my ears as I try to open my eyes, but they feel like they weigh a hundred pounds.
A little whimper leaves my lips as I force my eyes to open. That’s when a warm hand squeezes mine. “Dante?” I hear the voice I love that belongs to the person who means the world to me whisper, and I want to see his face so badly.
Why won’t my eyes open?
“Take your time, Treasure,” he tells me, rubbing his thumb on my hand.
A ringing noise fills the room.
Where the hell are we?
I take deep breaths and put all my focus on opening my eyes. Then, finally, they flutter open, and I’m face to face with the love of my life. “Hi,” I whisper, but my throat feels hoarse.
“Careful, you’ve been asleep for a few days, and they had a tube down your throat during surgery.”
“Our actor is finally awake?” a female with a sweet voice asks.
“I heard him whimpering,” Nixon tells the lady.
“Do you know where you are, Mr. Michaelson?” the lady asks me, and when I look at her, it dawns on me.
“Hospital?”
She smiles, her face warm and kind. “You are correct. Your doctor is on his way, but do you need anything until he gets here?”
“Water,” I say quietly, my throat itchy and burning.
“Absolutely. I’ll be right back with a cup and a straw.”
The moment she’s gone, Nixon kisses my forehead.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” he tells me with glassy eyes.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I whisper as the nurse places the cup on a table and rolls it over to the bed.
“I’m going to check your vitals real quick,” she says. “Are you in any pain?”
“A little,” I reply, then Nixon holds the cup to my mouth, and I slowly sip the water. “More just achy all over.”
“That’s normal. I’m going to give you a little extra pain reliever in your IV. I’ll let your doctor explain the recovery plan to you when he gets here, but in the meantime, let me know if anything really starts to hurt.”
I nod at her and turn my attention back to Nixon.
“What the hell happened?” I ask him since my memory is foggy.
“You were hit by a car. It was actually your mother driving.”
I gasp, and he squeezes my hand.
“We found out the day after. The police arrested her. She isn’t even being let out on bail since it was attempted homicide.”
“I can’t believe she would do that.” I shake my head.
“She’s pleading temporary insanity. Claims she was just so angry she blacked out and has no recollection of hitting you. I doubt it will hold up in court, though.”
“Both my parents could be in prison soon. This is fucking insane.”
“Good evening, Mr. Michaelson,” an older man with white hair greets me. “I’m happy to see you awake. I’m Dr. Fontain. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a car,” I respond dryly, making the doctor snicker.
“So you remember what happened?”
I shrug. “It’s foggy, but bits and pieces seem to be coming back. Nixon filled me in, though.”
“Foggy memory is completely normal,” he assures me. “When the car hit you, your left leg and pelvis broke on impact. There was also some internal bleeding that we tended to during surgery. You’ve been asleep for a few days while your body healed, and we monitored your progress. You still have a long road of recovery ahead of you, but the prognosis is promising. You’ll just have to put in the hard work and listen to your team.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all we ask. It looks like you have an amazing support system here, which is also important when it comes to healing.”
“When do I get to go home?” I ask, wanting to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.
I’ve never been a big fan of doctors in general, and being around sick people gives me the ick. But at least they were able to save my life.
“Now that you’re awake, we want to monitor you for a little bit longer, but you should be able to be released in a few days. Normally, we would send patients to a physical rehabilitation center, but you would have the option to go home as long as you have the correct staff to take care of you.”
“I’ll arrange for that,” Nixon assures him and puts a note into his phone.
“Do you have any other questions?” the doctor asks me, and I shake my head. “If you do, feel free to ask a nurse. In the meantime, make sure you get lots of rest, don’t fight your body to stay awake. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”
As soon as he leaves, I turn my attention to my sexy bodyguard.
“Thank you for being here,” I tell Nixon, and he gently lifts my hand and places a soft kiss on my knuckles.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
My eyes become heavy again, and Nixon gingerly kisses my forehead.
“Sleep, Treasure. I’ll be here when you wake.”
I don’t have the strength to fight the sleep, so I listen, letting it pull me under.
“You look like shit,” Anna tells me, walking into the room with a cheeky grin.
Nixon only left a few minutes ago to get something to eat. He knew Anna was on her way, and I wanted a moment alone before she showed up. I love that man, but when you’re stuck in a hospital bed, there aren’t many moments to be alone and breathe. I needed some space, even if it was only for a second.
“I think that happens when you get hit by a car” I reply, pulling the corners of my lips up.
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” she whimpers, rushing over to me.
I’m sure she’s about to crash into me when she stops suddenly. Her eyes comb over my body, and she’s figuring out how best to hug me without hurting me. After a moment, she slowly leans in to kiss my cheek and holds me gently.
We stay like that for a bit, neither of us saying anything.
“You are not allowed to leave me,” she whispers after. When she pulls away, tears are in her eyes, and she sits on the edge of my bed, holding my hand.
“It’s not like I planned for my mother to hit me with her car,” I joke, hoping to get a smile, but a few tears break free and trail down her cheek.
“I was so scared.”
“I’m sorry,” I respond, hating that she and Nixon had to endure that. “I keep thinking that if I were holding Nixon’s hand, this wouldn’t have happened because he’d have yanked me out of there,” I admit. “If I didn’t have all this anxiety around public displays of affection, I could have avoided hurting you.”
Anna’s eyes go wide. “Don’t you dare try to take the blame for this. The only one guilty here is your mother. May she rot in jail.”
I smirk at her words. “Still, I need to keep up my therapy. Nixon deserves a stronger partner.”
“You are strong, sweetie,” she assures me. “Not many people have gone through all the shit you have. You’re putting in the work to get through this already, so don’t beat yourself up, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Let’s just focus on getting you out of here,” she states, changing the subject, and I’m thankful for it.
“How are you feeling?” Amara questions as she walks into my room.
I’ve been in here for almost a week now, and I get to go home tomorrow. To say the least, I’m beyond excited.
Amara and I have been talking a lot on the phone, but this is her first time visiting. She wanted to give me a bit of space for a few days.
“I’m all right. How is everything going on your end? Are the producers pissed I have to push back filming?”
“Obviously, people are upset, but your lawyers made fantastic contracts, and they can’t fire you over this. I only want your focus to be on healing. I’ll deal with everything else. Everyone is well aware you will not be back to work for at least six months.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s what you pay me for,” she jokes. “Did you get Dante’s occupational therapist and nurse to sign the NDA agreements?” she asks Nixon, who is sitting in the corner of the room, working on his computer.
“Yup. I emailed them to you this morning,” Nixon informs her.
“Are you excited to go home tomorrow?” she asks me.
“More than I could ever express. Hospitals suck.”
“I didn’t realize we were that bad,” Caitlyn, one of the nurses who has been working with me since I got here, teases.
I laugh. “You’re the only good thing about this place.”
She giggles, waving her hand at me. “I understand wanting to go home. No one wants to stay in a hospital longer than necessary.”
She takes my vitals, and I turn my attention back to Amara. “How is everything going on the social media front?”
“Really good. I hate that your mom ran you over, but it’s turned the conversation about you on its head. It’s got people talking and moving the topic onto a wider range of things instead of focusing solely on your coming out. Your fans seem to really be on your side, and people are wishing you a speedy recovery. Even those who originally were upset about your announcement have started to show support for you, admitting that they were wrong and love is love. For now, I think it will stay as is until your parents’ trials.”
“Makes sense. Do we have a date for those yet?”
“Not officially. Your father’s will be first. They are saying it’s anywhere from twelve to eighteen months away. Your parents’ lawyers, however, are requesting to set up a meeting with you and your lawyers in a few weeks when you feel up to it.” I sigh.
“They are going to try talking you into helping them get lesser charges,” Nixon adds.
“Can I ignore them?”
“Why don’t we have your lawyers over next week?” Nixon suggests. “You can see what they think about this meeting.”
I nod, wondering if going through with this shit show is even going to be worth it. Maybe I should take the settlement. But if I do that, my father wins, and I can’t let him win. He is the reason I’m so fucked in the head. And my mother is the reason I’m lying in this hospital bed. My parents need to pay for what they did.
I’m done taking the easy way out. I have amazing people in my corner now. Even if taking my parents down drains me completely, I know my real family will be there to pick me up when it’s all over.
“How are you feeling?” Mel asks.
I roll my eyes. “Getting really sick of that question,” I mutter.
It’s been a week since I’ve been home, and this is my first therapy session since the accident.
“I bet, but you know we mean well.”
I sigh but nod. “I know. I just want to be healed physically and mentally so I can move on with my life already.”
“Well, let’s work on that mental health,” she says.
I inhale slowly, holding it for a moment before blowing it out. I know I’m going to be exhausted after this, but it will be worth it in the long run.
I have four to six months of healing and physical therapy before I’ll return to normal, or so the doctors say. I’m going to put in the same amount of effort to get my mental health on the right track too.
Chapter 29
Nixon
Six Months Later
Izzy wraps her slim arms around Dante’s neck with a giant smile. I can’t help but grin at the motion.
“You did amazing today,” she shouts, only slightly out of breath.
“You really did, babe. I’m so proud of you,” I tell him.
As soon as Izzy lets him go, I pull him close and give him a quick kiss, not caring that we are sweaty.
“I can’t believe we ran that long, and I still feel great,” he says, beaming. He lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.
Of course, I let my eyes roam over his abs of steel.
“I think you’re officially done with physical therapy,” Izzy states.
“Does that mean I can finally get fucked?” he asks as she takes a sip of water, making her spray it everywhere as she laughs.
I can’t help but shake my head with a smirk.
“I know you’ve been cleared for mild sexual activities for a while, but yeah, I think you can get back to whatever you enjoy now. Just remember to listen to your body. If things hurt, don’t do it,” Izzy reminds him in a firm tone.
“I know. Thank you so much for your help. I wouldn’t be where I am today without your help. You’re a kickass occupational therapist,” he tells her, and her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.
“You were a pretty good patient for an adult,” she jokes.
Izzy graduated this year, and while her goal is to mainly work with pediatric patients as an occupational therapist, she agreed to take Dante on before starting work as an independent contractor. Both Dante and I trust her, so we were happy she was willing to work with him for his recovery.
“Are you and Dax coming over for the barbeque this weekend?” he asks.
Izzy beams at him. After knowing her during the worst time of her life, I couldn’t be happier that she has so much life in her again. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss your last get-together before you and Nixon leave us for half a year.”
“We’ll miss you all, but I’m happy to finally be going back to work. It’s been too long, and I miss acting.”
I’m a bit nervous about being gone for so long, but I would never let Dante go to Brazil for six months without me.
We’ll be back a few weeks before his father’s court date. As much as we’re both dreading it, it will be nice for it to be over. His mother, on the other hand, took a deal and won’t be going to court. She’ll still spend a good amount of time in jail, but we won’t have to sit through a second trial. Thank fuck.
Brazil will be good to keep our minds off of everything.
Thankfully, a lot of my job can be done remotely, and Denver is taking over any in-person appointments I normally would have done. In a way, this is a great start to move me into a more behind-the-scenes position, which has been necessary for a long time but something I was fighting.
My love has always been my job, and that was being a bodyguard. I didn’t want to push papers all day. But I have a new love now—Dante. Work isn’t my only purpose in life anymore. We’ve even been talking about the possibility of growing our family in the near future. The idea makes me happier than I ever dreamed possible.
“I’ll see you both in two days,” Izzy shouts as she heads to her car.
We wave as she drives away and then go into the house.
“Did you hear what the lady said?” Dante asks, waggling his brows.
“I did, but I’m not sure if you’ve been a good enough boy to earn something like that.”
He gasps. “I’ve been the best boy!”
I step closer to him, leaning down to silence him with a kiss. “You’re right. You’ve been amazing. But as much as I want to fuck you, we have dinner with my parents in a few hours, so that will have to wait.”
Dante rolls his eyes, and I click my tongue at him. “Cleared to get fucked and already looking to get a good spanking too, I see.” He snickers. “Get your ass in the shower now, and maybe I’ll let you come before dinner,” I command, laughing while Dante runs as fast as his legs will carry him.
I’m so happy about how far Dante has come since his accident. It wasn’t an overnight thing. It’s taken six fucking months of hard work, but he’s back to the man he was when I first met him. Actually, that’s wrong. He’s a stronger man now, both physically and mentally. He’s pushed himself as hard as he could to heal as much as possible, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.
I’ve also spent my fair share of time speaking with a therapist of my own. After seeing Dante get hit by that car, I knew I had things I needed to work through with a professional, and I’m glad I did.
The accident turned our lives upside down again, but we came out the other side stronger than ever.
“It’s so nice to see you again,” Mom gushes, pulling Dante into her arms.
“At least I look better this time,” Dante jokes.
Mom and Dad came down shortly after Dante’s accident to show him their support. It was a great visit, but I know this one will be even better.
“It is good to see you walking,” she replies with a genuine smile. “I still can’t believe my boys are leaving for Brazil for six months.”
Mom told Dante the last time she was down that she was now his mother since his was so rotten.
“It will go by faster than you think,” he promises as the hostess comes to take us to our table.
“I’m sure it will, but I’m still going to worry. It’s what good mothers do,” she tells him as we take our seats at the back of the restaurant.
“It’s what good parents do,” my dad corrects her with a cheeky grin, looking at both Dante and me. “We love you both, and we’re not sorry for being worry warts.”
“We promise to call often,” Dante assures them. “It’s nice having people who care about me.” He adds the last part quietly.
I reach over to squeeze his hand, and he beams at me. That’s something else that has taken time and patience, but he’s no longer afraid of physical touch in public.
