Racing the Sky Read online

  “Screw it,” Nicky snapped. “Just leave me alone. I can’t do it.”

  “Maybe not now,” the physical therapist, a tall woman named Renee, told him. “But with time and hard work—”

  “Fuck time and fuck you,” Nicky growled.

  “Nicky,” Gray interceded. “There’s no need to behave like that. She’s just trying to help.”

  “And I’m saying I don’t want help. I just want to go home and be left alone. What’s the fuckin’ point? Squeeze a ball? So what? I can maybe one day pick up my clothes off the floor and go where? Not back to the track, ’cause I can’t fuckin’ ride again. Doubt I’ll ever be able to work on a car again, so maybe I’ll get goddamn good at clicking the fuckin’ remote. I can be a world champion channel changer. Maybe I’ll even get a sponsor to enter a ten thousand channel-flipping contest. Guy with the fastest time wins.”

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Renee said. “I know it’s hard to see now, Nicholas, but there will be plenty that you’ll be able to do once you regain the use of your arm.”

  “You mean if, don’t you? ’Cause there’s no guarantee what I’ll ever be able to do, if anything.”

  “Life doesn’t come with guarantees,” Gray reminded him gently. “Sometimes you have to learn how to climb through a mudslide just to find the sun.”

  “Yeah, well, one-legged men don’t climb well,” Nicky scoffed.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Renee pointed out.

  “Oh God, spare me another inspirational story about some soldier who climbed Mt. St. Helens with a prosthesis and skied down on one ski. I’m not them, I’m not that strong, and I can’t fuckin’ do this, so leave me be.”

  Gray opened his mouth to say something, but Renee shook her head.

  “For today. We’ll try again on Monday. Just remember that a few weeks ago you couldn’t even sit in that chair, let alone come in here to try to squeeze the ball. You’re making progress.”

  “If that’s what you call progress then you can shove it up your ass; I don’t want any part of it. It’s pointless. The only point of anyone making me do this is to prove just how much I can’t do anymore. I get it; okay? I won’t ever fuckin’ race again. I don’t need to do this to myself to get that through my head. I accept it; now can you all just leave me alone?”

  “If that’s what you think therapy is all about, then you have the wrong mindset,” she countered, seemingly not phased in the slightest by his language. “Physical therapy isn’t about whether or not you’ll ever be able to race or surf again, it’s about whether you will be able to walk again. Go grocery shopping for yourself, get in and out of a tub without assistance, have a full life that doesn’t depend on having someone else around each day to help you with the things you’ve so clearly taken for granted. It’s about quality of life. So the question I leave you with today, Nicholas, is what kind of quality of life do you hope to have?”

  And with that she left Gray to wheel a silent, glaring Nicky from the building.

  The ride home from the PT session was a quiet one. Nicky sat with his head against the window and his eyes on the bright blue sky. Every now and again Gray would glance over at him, turbulent emotions stumbling through him. A part of him longed to grab Nicky and shake him, while another part wanted nothing more than to wrap Nicky in his arms and hold him until he smiled again. As they pulled into the driveway, Gray decided that, for today, hugging Nicky might be the better option, and he vowed to do everything in his power to, if not get a smile out of him, at least get Nicky to hug him back and really talk to him. Something that hadn’t happened in days.

  He parked, went around to Nicky’s side of the car, and lifted him out, carrying him in rather than sitting him in his chair. Nicky was rigid in his arms, not even wrapping his good arm around Gray on the journey. Gray sat him in his bed and propped his still-healing leg on the pillow before retrieving the chair. He parked it against the wall and joined him on the bed, taking the remote from him and clicking off the television he’d turned on.

  Nicky looked up at him with questioning eyes, but as soon as Gray met his gaze full on, Nicky looked away. Gray wrapped his arms around Nicky and tried to pull him back against his chest, but Nicky tensed and wiggled until Gray was forced to let him go.

  “I don’t want you to come over anymore,” Nicky told him softly.

  Gray stilled. The hands that had been rubbing Nicky’s arms fell away. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t, okay?” Nicky told him. “I don’t need you to be my babysitter or to lecture me at PT. I don’t need you here trying to get me to laugh at cartoons and stupid movies. I just... I don’t want you to come back.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you’re breaking up with me for trying to help you through this when a lot of guys would have walked away after the wreck, considering the nature of our relationship?”

  “You shoulda,” Nicky told him.

  “Like I told you before, I have no desire to end things with you. I’ve grown to care about you a great deal and hoped you felt the same. I know you’re struggling with things right now. All I’ve ever asked is that you allow me to help make things a little bit easier for you,” Gray pleaded.

  He moved his fingers to gently caress the back of Nicky’s neck, and for a moment, Nicky closed his eyes and the faintest tremor ran through him before he drew in a deep breath and jerked away.

  “I don’t feel the same,” Nicky blurted.

  “I see,” Gray said. He moved farther away.

  Nicky ducked his head, until Grey forced his chin up, and he had no choice but to meet Gray’s gaze.

  “Look at me when you tell me we’re done. It’s the least you can do,” Gray told him roughly.

  Nicky’s resolve faltered and his eyes swam with tears, his gaze wavered, and he almost choked on the words he was struggling with. “We’re done. Please don’t come back.”

  Gray’s jaw clenched, and he dropped his hand from Nicky’s face. Nicky immediately averted his gaze and picked at the blanket beside him.

  “If you change your mind, you know how to get a hold of me,” Gray told him.

  Nicky’s head shot up, shock in his tear-bright eyes. Twin tears streaked down Nicky’s cheeks before he ducked his head again. Sighing, Gray walked away, closing the door behind him with a firm click.

  In the car, Gray hit the speed dial button and waited for Vic to answer. He doubted Nicky meant what he’d said, but he hadn’t felt that fighting with him was the answer. Agitated, Nicky could easily hurt himself or force Gray into having to restrain him and accidentally hurt him in the process.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Vic said. “How’d Nicky’s PT go?”

  “Not good. Look, I’m on my way home. Nicky told me not to come around anymore, so he’s there by himself right now.”

  “Shit,” Vic sounded weary.

  “I’d have stayed, but I didn’t want him to get himself all worked up again.”

  “No, that was probably the best thing to do. I just... I’m sorry. I know how you feel about him, and I’m just—I’m really worried about him right now. Everything that mattered to him he’s just throwing away, and nothing I say seems to be getting through to him.”

  “You’re doing all you can, Vic. The truth is, you can only do as much as he’ll allow. Hey, at least he can’t kick you out.”

  “I feel like an asshole for saying this, but sometimes I wish he could,” Vic admitted. “I feel like I don’t even know him anymore. There’s a ghost in the living room. It looks like Nicky, but when it speaks, every word is just rage and hate.”

  “That’s when you go upstairs and close the door. You can call me if you need someone to talk to, but I won’t come back unless he calls me himself and asks me to.”

  “I understand. Thanks,” Vic said. “I might take you up on that offer, at least during the day. I’ve got work now. Being out in the woods is peaceful, and I can forget everything going on at home for a little bit.”

/>   “Yeah.” Gray sighed. “That’s how work is for me too: an escape. Sucks to say, really. I’d better go before I get pulled over. Let me know how things progress. If they progress.”

  “I will. Don’t give up on him, Gray. I know he’s gonna regret this.”

  “We’ll see,” Gray said, then hung up. He hoped Nicky regretted it too, but deep down, he doubted he could be so lucky with the disastrous way the good things in his life tended to end.

  Chapter Eleven

  Terry picked up his coffee mug and inhaled the scent of fresh java. For a moment he simply leaned there against the counter, eyes closed as he took a small sip. A thud drew him out of his quiet coffee worship, and he cracked one eye open to see Dirk rummaging around in the fridge, a pan on the stove beside him.

  “Thought you were getting an early start this morning,” Terry commented, half asking and half accusing, the tone in his voice making it clear he was not happy to see Dirk.

  Dirk turned, the eggs in one hand, the butter in the other, his face set in a petulant scowl. “In a hurry to rush me out the door, Terry?” he snapped. “Got a hot fuck coming over as soon as I’m gone? Oh right, I’m the hot fuck you used to sneak around to see, so what’s going on?”

  “It was a mistake.” Terry put down his coffee. “I never should have let you move in with me. Hell, I never should have hooked up with you in the first place. I fucked up something really good screwing around with you.”

  Dirk pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. “So that’s it then?” Dirk’s voice was like ice as he addressed Terry. “You don’t need me around to help you make Nicky jealous, so you’re tossing me away so you can do what exactly? Be his hero and go take care of him now that you fucked him up? You’re a sick bastard, you know that, Terry?”

  “You’ve got a week to find a place, or go back to living in your parents’ basement. I don’t care. I just need you gone.”

  “Fine. You need me gone? I’m gone. I’ll have my shit out by the end of the day, but I swear to God, you’re gonna regret this!”

  Terry shoved himself away from the counter and into Dirk’s space, pushing him back against the refrigerator. “Are you threatening me?” he growled.

  Dirk tried to shove Terry away, fury resonating in his eyes. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this shit!”

  “No, you didn’t, or maybe you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here and listen to you threatening me. I never lied to you, not once. You knew about Nicky, you knew I was just fucking around with you to get back at him, and you were more than happy to go along with it and encourage me to keep on being a douche to him. You reap what you sow. We all do,” Terry said sadly.

  “You’re still in love with him.” Dirk sighed, all the fight going out of him. The butter and the eggs hit the floor with a thud.

  “Yeah.” Terry stepped back, giving Dirk space. “I doubt he will ever forgive me for what I’ve done to him, but I can’t keep acting like I’m enjoying having you around, because I’m not, and right now the only thing I care about doing is finding a way to help Nicky with his rehab. I hate those damned bars and dance clubs. I hate those damn movies you like to see. I hate the way you hang off my arm and fawn all over me and act like I’m the greatest thing ever, when inside I feel like shit, ’cause I know that what I am is the bastard who wrecked his best friend’s life!” He was yelling by the time he finished, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thought about Nicky and the boxes in the garage.

  Dirk sucked in a deep breath, then shook his head and walked away. Terry could hear the sound of drawers being opened, but he didn’t move. He just picked up his now-cold cup of coffee and finished it in silence.

  ***

  It was hours before Terry checked his phone and saw that he had another phone call from Nicky. His first response was to wonder what he’d left behind. The last thing he expected when he answered was Nicky’s tearful voice asking him to come over.

  “Are you okay?” he asked immediately, a sharp pang of regret stabbing through him as he listened to Nicky hiccup.

  “No,” Nicky said, before breaking down in tears again.

  “I’ll be right there. Where’s Vic? Is he with you? Did you fall? Are you hurt?” Terry asked frantically as he pushed past Jason on his way to the office.

  “Is that Nicky? Did something happen?” River asked, stepping into Terry’s path. Terry tried to brush past him, but River wrestled the phone from his hand, then pinned Terry with a glare when he tried to snatch it back.

  “Nicky, it’s River. What happened?” River frowned at the phone, then glared at Terry. “He wants you. I swear to God, Terry, if you make this worse I’ll hunt you down and bury you somewhere the crows won’t find.” With that, River flipped the phone at him, and Terry juggled it a few times before grasping it and putting it back to his ear.

  “Are you still there?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way. Just stay put.”

  “Where the fuck am I gonna go?” Nicky sobbed.

  Terry cringed, hung up, and ran to speak to Dean. Seven minutes, and a promise to help Dean with a little after-hours side project, and Terry was on his way. He broke a few traffic laws getting to Nicky’s. Mercifully, the door was unlocked when he arrived. Nicky was sitting on the bed in the middle of the living room, crying silently. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong—at least not anything more than the still-healing remains of the accident. Crossing the room, Terry knelt in front of Nicky and reached out to touch his good shoulder. The next thing he knew Nicky was grasping his shirt with his good hand and trying to yank him onto the bed. Terry went with it as carefully as he could, hugging Nicky. After several long minutes, Terry hesitantly asked Nicky what was going on.

  “You’ve ruined everything,” Nicky said.

  “I know.” Terry hugged him tighter. “Tell me how to make it right.”

  Nicky shook his head. “You can’t; no one can. There is no right anymore.”

  “You don’t know that,” Terry insisted. “Didn’t they say it would take time?”

  “I don’t want time, I just want…” He closed his eyes then, a tremor running through him. When he focused on Terry again, his eyes were filled with sadness and pain. “You did this to me. You hated me so much you did this. So finish it.”

  “Wh-what?” Terry drew away from Nicky. “No! No way. You are not asking me to—”

  “You owe me. You took everything, so why not that?” Nicky demanded.

  Terry could only shake his head in disbelief as he stared at the pale, tear-streaked face of the only guy he’d ever loved.

  “Everything’s ruined. I’m ruined,” Nicky said in a small voice, broken and so different from any way Terry had ever heard him sound. “Nothing is ever gonna fix it; I can’t even squeeze a ball. Vic has to help with everything, and it isn’t fair to him to be stuck having to take care of me. I broke up with Gray. It wasn’t fair to keep letting him come and try to help me when he deserves so much more than someone who’s completely and utterly ruined.”

  “Then let me take care of you,” Terry pleaded.

  “I don’t want anyone to have to take care of me!” Nicky railed, breaking down into sobs again. Terry hugged him close, felt his body quaking, and realized in that moment just how much weight Nicky had lost. Close to tears himself, Terry held him until he cried himself out and sagged against him.

  “I won’t help you kill yourself,” Terry said calmly, but inside his heart was hammering and he wished like hell Vic was home. Taking a deep breath, Terry drew back and cupped Nicky’s chin. “I fucked everything up, I know that, but I never stopped loving you, and I swear to God, Nicky, if you let me help you I will never stop trying to show you how much you mean to me.”

  Silence stretched between them for so long that Terry began to wonder whether Nicky was ever going to answer.

  “Fine,” Nicky muttered, “but we’re not back together.”

  “Okay.�
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  “Now let go.”

  Terry was so shocked to hear the coldness back in Nicky’s voice he let go right away.

  A few minutes later Nicky clicked the TV off and struggled to roll over. Terry helped him get situated and pulled the blankets over him before turning out the light beside the bed.

  “I’ve got PT Monday morning. You wanna take me, or should I ask Vic?”

  “What time?”

  “Nine.”

  “I’ll be here,” Terry said, knowing before it was through he was going to owe Dean a ton of favors.

  ***

  “What do you mean Terry is taking you to PT?” Vic sputtered, wiping away the orange juice dribbling down his chin with the back of his hand.

  “I asked him if he’d take me, and he said yes, so just go to work. Okay?”

  Fury flashed through Vic’s eyes as he headed out of the kitchen. “You know what? Do whatever the hell you want! Kicking Gray to the curb was stupid, and you know it, but letting Terry back in your life, that’s just fuckin’ dumb, but it’s your life, so do whatever.”

  “I plan to.”

  Vic stalked away, abandoning his breakfast.

  By the time Terry arrived to pick him up, Nicky had managed to finish his food, wiggle into a clean T-shirt, despite tearing it some in the process, and gotten his hair pulled to the side and secured. It was messy and looked like shit, like his face and the fading scars on his pale and pasty skin. Hating to look at himself a moment longer than he had to, Nicky backed the chair up carefully, grateful that he had mastered maneuvering in and out of the bathroom without getting stuck.

  He even made it to the door to answer it before Terry had to ring more than twice. It should have raised his spirits, but all he felt was numb. It was awkward, when they realized just how difficult it would be to get him into Terry’s truck. Vic or Gray would have simply lifted him and placed him in the seat, but with Terry it turned out to be a grasping, fumbling struggle, leaving both of them out of breath and Nicky’s arm aching from where he’d hit it against the door.