Incinerate

Chapter 7

Charlie

DRIVING AWAY from Knox’s place, I’m feeling guilty for biting his head off in the kitchen. He was actually right, not that I’ll admit that to him. I have no idea what it’s like to be in the military, to be injured by an unknown enemy, or to watch my friends be killed right before my eyes. Sure, I could tell the way that Dad was affected whenever he lost a patient, but he never went in depth to tell me what it was like. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that, I guess. Thinking back on it, I know I shouldn’t have lost my cool so quickly, but that near kiss was unnerving. He’s been hot and cold since the moment I met him at the bar, and I’ve never liked a roller coaster ride. After assuming I wanted to sleep with him and then his trying to kiss me, the bitch in me came out in full force.

Deciding that I need someone to talk to, I head towards Dad’s house. If anyone can give me insight on how to deal with someone like Knox, it’ll be him. I pull into his driveway and grab the notes I took out of my briefcase before making my way to the house. Ringing the doorbell so he knows I’m here, I step inside just in time to see him walking into the living room looking nice in a pair of black dress pants and a long-sleeved button-up green shirt. He looks surprised to see me, and I shrug my shoulders, knowing he’s wondering why I’m here. I cross the room to give him a hug.

“Wow, Dad. You clean up nicely. Hot date, tonight?” I tease, and his face turns red. “I was just kidding, but is that a blush on your face?!” I laugh as the red deepens. “Oh come on, Dad. You can tell me.”

He walks into the kitchen and I follow him, sitting down at the table in the corner of the room. Grabbing two beers from the refrigerator, he sits down next to me and takes a long swig from his bottle as he hands me the other.

“It’s just dinner with a friend, Charlie,” he says, not looking at my face.

I don’t care if it’s a date or dinner with a friend. I’m just happy at the thought of my dad getting out of the house and spending time with a woman in any capacity. “Is it a lady friend?” I ask, wanting to get as many details out of my tight-lipped father as I can.

He runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit, and for the first time I notice that it’s a little longer than usual. He’s been fortunate to maintain a full head of dark brown hair without a gray in sight. He always liked to joke that I should’ve had him going full-on gray by the time I was fifteen.

“I’m having dinner with a Dr. Branch. You remember her, don’t you?”

I’m racking my brain to place her, and I vaguely remember him introducing me to a woman with that name at the annual holiday party that the hospital puts on. “I think so, but I’d have to see her to remember her face. So it’s just a business dinner? Nothing more?” I can’t help my teasing tone, the nosy side winning out against the part of me that wants to leave him alone.

“It’s just two friends who enjoy each other’s company going out to dinner. If something comes of it, then so be it, but I’m just seeing how it goes.”

I lean across the table and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m happy for you, Dad. You deserve to have some fun.”

He smiles sheepishly. “So what brings you over here tonight?”

Sighing, I bring the papers to the table. “I had my first visit with my new assignment today. It was…well, interesting. I don’t know, Dad. I might not be up for this one.”

His brow wrinkles as he looks as me curiously. “Charlie Davenport, I’ve never known you to give up on anything. I’m sure it’s not that bad. What’s the problem?”

I launch into the story, leaving out certain details, such as the massive erection Knox was sporting and the way he almost kissed me. I mostly discuss the way his mood seems to shift so easily and how upset he got when I mentioned his pride.

Dad takes a drink of his beer and looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “Here’s the thing, Charlie. These are guys who are used to taking care of themselves and their fellow soldiers. He’s probably not used to being stuck on the sidelines, sitting at home, day after day after day. It must be killing him not to be in the gym, not to be training with his buddies, and he’s probably feeling cabin fever being stuck at home.”

His words make too much sense, but I’m not ready to feel any sympathy. “I know, Dad, but he’s nice one second and a grump the next. And then he’s apologizing before I can even process being angry. It’s up and down, back and forth, and in one day I already feel the whiplash from it.”

Dad smiles at me, his eyes shining, and I love that I can talk to him about anything. “I know, honey, and it’ll probably be this way for a while. The pain medication can mess with your emotions and moods. And the helplessness and loneliness can do a number on an injured patient. I know you’re damn stubborn, but try and be patient with him. It sounds like he needs it. And if it gets to be too much, take out your frustrations in the ring, okay?”

I know that he’s right, and for more than the first time, I’m thankful Dad introduced me to kickboxing as a kid. After realizing what a stubborn kid I was, he was very adamant that I found a way to channel my anger and annoyance in a positive way. We’ve been scrapping together for nearly twenty years, and we have a standing boxing date every Sunday at the local boxing gym where many soldiers frequent. I’ve tried to drag Lucy with me, but she refuses to get her pretty face bruised and sticks to the regular gym where we take yoga classes together. I’m stuck sparring with guys at the gym who try to take it easy on me. It wasn’t until they saw Dad and me beating the crap out of each other that they finally started treating me like an adversary instead of a wilting flower, but Kale’s still the only one who comes at me full force.

Finishing my beer, I stand to leave. “Thanks for the advice, Dad. I’ll try to be more patient with him. Will you be at the gym tomorrow, or are you having a late night?” I ask him, wiggling my eyebrows up at him, causing him to blush.

He shakes his head, chuckling at me. “I’ll be there, Charlie. No doubt about that.”

Leaning over, I give him another kiss on the cheek. “Love you, Dad. Have a good time tonight. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, honey. I love you, too. Remember that when I kick your ass tomorrow.”

Laughing, I give him one last smile and I leave the house, feeling much better than before. Wade Davenport is the best man I’ve ever known, and I hope Dr. Branch realizes that. For both their sakes.

IT’S BEEN three days since that weird first day with Knox, and it’s no less awkward than it was when I left Saturday evening. Dad and I sparred the next day, and I know I was a little more intense than normal. He seemed tired, and I was curious as to how his date was. I didn’t want to push it, so I decided to let him tell me when he’s ready. I just kicked, jabbed, and even got in one good uppercut before he was ready to call it quits.

I’ve been to Knox’s place every day since then, but we’ve barely interacted. When I showed up on Sunday after working out with Dad, he frowned at the bruise that was forming on my cheek from a jab I hadn’t blocked, but he only opened the door to let me in, not saying a word. Since then, we’ve only talked when necessary, and it hasn’t escaped my attention that he still hasn’t asked me to put the lotion on his back. I felt bad that I’d forgotten, but I wasn’t bringing it up if he wasn’t going to.

I’m pulling up to his house, ready to take him to a doctor appointment. I know he’s wishing that he’s going to get the okay to stop wearing the brace, and I’m hopeful for him, too. Maybe that’ll put him in a better mood. Although he hasn’t asked about the lotion, the evil part of me hopes he isn’t quite done with it yet. Cohen promised I’d get to rub lotion on his skin, and I inwardly cringe as I realize that I sound like freaking Buffalo Bill. “It rubs the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again.” What the hell, Charlie? I think to myself as I shake the thought out of my head. Am I really quoting a fictional serial killer from Silence of the Lambs as I imagine rubbing my hands over his body? God, help me. If I start to discuss the delectable pairing of a Chilean Malbec with the juicy part of the brain, please find the nearest looney bin and drop me at their front door.

I exit the car and make my way up the front porch steps. I’m about to knock on the door when he opens it.

“Been waitin’ for you all damn day, sweetheart,” he informs me as he impatiently taps his fingers against the doorjamb.

Rolling my eyes, I don’t bother to check him out, because all I’ve seen him in since Saturday is a pair of basketball shorts and his brace, which he’s currently not wearing. “Sorry, Your Majesty, but I do have a job that requires me to show up and, you know, put in eight hours of work. That’s why Cohen scheduled your appointments for the afternoon.” I glance down at my watch and realize that, if we don’t get out of here soon, we’re going to be late. “Would it have killed you to have gotten dressed before I got here?”

I brush past him and head back towards his bedroom and into his closet. Hearing him behind me, I don’t turn around. Instead I start looking for an acceptable shirt he can slip on to go with his shorts. Finally, I decide on just a simple green t-shirt, not purposely choosing it so it matches his eyes or anything. Yeah, right.

When I turn around, I spot him sitting on the edge of his bed, watching me. I throw the shirt at him. “Here, put this on.” The shirt hits him square in the chest and falls into his lap. With my hands on my hips, I want impatiently, but he just sits there, still watching me.

“Umm, sweetheart, I could use a little help here,” he informs me, holding out his broken arm to show that he might need some assistance. Oh come on. He can’t honestly expect me to believe that he can’t get a t-shirt around his cast. Sighing, I cross the room to him and grab the material from him.

“This might be easier if you stand up,” I tell him, and he complies silently. Even at my five foot eight, he still stands about half a foot taller than me, so I climb onto his bed, standing up on it. He moves closer so I can help him. After I instruct him to hold his arms out, he complies as I place the open sleeve over his broken arm and feed it up past his cast. Putting his good arm through the other sleeve, I easily slip it up and over his head. It gets caught on his ear, so I have to yank down, causing him to curse. I can’t help the smirk that spreads over my face as I pull the t-shirt the rest of the way down, my fingers lingering on the skin as I cover it. He scowls at me, and before I know it, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him so we’re chest to chest.

“I have to admit, Charlie, I’m used to women undressing me. Not the other way around. But I think I can get used to you doing this for me, especially if you keep looking at me like it pains you to cover me up,” he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling me as his words send a shiver down my spine.

Pulling back from him, I glare. “I was no—” He cuts me off my placing a long finger on my lips.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, sweetheart,” he says, grinning at me. What was it that I called him? Oh yeah, an arrogant cockbag.

“Excuse me for trying to be helpful. And stop calling me sweetheart! I have a name, you know.”

He just keeps grinning at me, and I swear that in three days’ time he’s learned how to push every single one of my buttons. Huffing, I clamber off the bed and leave the room with him trailing behind me. When we get to the living room, I remember that he needs his brace, so I run back to his room to get it. He scowls but allows me to fasten it on him.

“Get your shit. You’ve wasted enough of my time and I’m not going to make you late to the first appointment that I’m supposed to take you to,” I snap, watching as he grabs his wallet and keys.

He locks up the house, and it isn’t until we’re in the car and on the highway that I begin to smell the sweat on him. Wrinkling my nose, I look over at him only to find him staring out the window.

“Umm Knox?”

He turns to look at me, and the serene look on his face catches me off guard. Like he’d been lost in his thoughts and I just pulled him away from something special. His eyebrows rise as he waits for me to continue.

“Have you showered since your brother left?” I ask, feeling like a jerk the moment the words escape my lips.

His brow furrows as he looks at me. “It’s not exactly easy getting dressed, undressed, and into the shower with my cast and brace, Charlie. I can do sponge baths, but that’s about it. I’m doing the best I can.”

I clear my throat, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I’m watching the road ahead, but I can feel his gaze on me. “You know, umm, I can help, if you want. Cohen told me how to wrap your arm, so seriously, any time you want, just let me know. I have no problem making sure that you’re fresh and clean.”

I glance over at him, and a smile lights up his face. “Okay, Andre 3000. After we get back from the doctor’s office, you can get me naked and into the shower so that I can smell nice and manly for you.”

“Andre 3000? Seriously?” I ask, and he grins at me, launching into the Outkast song “So Fresh, So Clean.” Honestly, the thought of getting him naked and in the shower has me both salivating and shaking, but if it’ll help him out, I guess I don’t mind lending a helping hand. Maybe it’ll brighten his demeanor a little bit if he’s feeling refreshed, relaxed, and well…a little less smelly.

As we pull up to the doctor’s office, Knox sobers and stares at the building before he exits the car. “I’m so fucking ready to be done with this shit,” he says, not exactly to me, but more to himself.

“How many appointments have you had?” I ask him, because other than the initial conversation we had, he’s never talked to me about his injuries, the coma, or what he’s been doing since he was released from the hospital.

“Way too many. I’d gladly never step foot in another hospital or doctor’s office for the rest of my life once all this is over with. Too many memories. The week I had to spend here after they took me out of the coma was brutal and depressing as hell.”

“Was this the first time you’ve been injured in the line of duty?”

The question causes a dark shadow to form in his eyes, and he simply shakes his head as we go through the automatic doors. He doesn’t say anything to me before he goes to check in, letting the receptionist know that he’s here. We sit in the waiting room, and his legs begins to shake, bouncing up and down as if he’s nervous or antsy.

“You okay?” I ask, and he gives me a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m good, sweetheart. Just really hoping to get the all clear to get this damn brace off.”

“Is it really that bad?” I’ve never had to wear anything like it, but I do know that I can only sleep on my stomach or my side, and I don’t think I’d be able to do it with that.

Shrugging his shoulders, he stares at the television on the wall across from us as he answers me. “I can barely sleep when I have it on unless I’ve taken my pain medication. And I’m tired of feeling lethargic and weak all day long from taking the pills. But until I’m out of this brace, I don’t think I’ll be able to wean myself off of them. I’m just so ready to be active again, and it’s driving me nuts being such a shut-in.”

Instinctively, I place my hand on his thigh, and his leg stills beneath my touch. “I’m sure, if not today, it won’t be much longer. And once you’re cleared for physical therapy, we can start getting you out of the house and doing some physical stuff. I know a great place where we can rent paddle boats. Since you’ll be out of commission with your arm, that’ll be a great way for you to exert energy with your legs.”

He places his hand over the one that I have on his thigh and grins at me wickedly. “Oh, sweetheart, I can think of a few things I can do to expend some energy that having a bum arm won’t affect.”

Pulling my hand away from his grasp, I’m about to respond when the door opens and his name is called. He stands up and looks down at me. “Coming?”

I rise and follow him, surprised that he is okay with me joining him. Cohen made it sound like he’d give me some grief about it, so I was expecting him to put up more of a fight.

We follow the nurse back to an examination room, and she checks Knox’s vitals and removes his brace. I roll my eyes as he flirts with her, and she’s eating up every single word and sexy smile he throws her way. Eventually, she takes him down to x-ray so they can see how he’s healing, leaving me alone in the room. It’s not long before he comes back, but I’ve already pulled out the paperback I leave tucked in my purse for slow days at work, diving into the story of Acheron, desperate to learn more about him after having to get through fourteen books to find out more. Once the nurse leaves, I notice Knox pull out his phone, and we sit in silence until I hear a faint knock on the door.

It opens, and a petite woman with gorgeous auburn hair enters the room. She looks vaguely familiar, and she smiles at Knox sitting on the waiting table. She’s probably in her late thirties, but she’s beautiful, and I’d love to know her skin care regimen.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Wellington. Nice to see you again,” she says, and he grins at her.

“How many times have I told you to call me Knox, Dr. B?”

Flushing slightly, she just shakes her head and goes to grab his chart. This is when she finally notices me in the corner. Her eyes widen slightly at the same time I catch the name on her ID tag. Dr. Olivia Branch.