Double Full (Nice Guys 1)

“And if he doesn’t, they’ll do away with him? Get rid of the drunken fag in other words?” Jace scoffed.

“We aren’t there yet. Nowhere even remotely close, and if we get there, it won’t be his sexual preferences that remove him from the team,” Dr. Knox said, and Jace just stared at the doctor. He hadn’t considered any of this.

“Come on. Let’s get your shit. The sooner we go, the sooner you’ll be back,” Mitch said.

“I won’t be gone long,” Jace said to the doctor. He felt around in his jeans, found his keys and phone as he followed Mitch out of the hospital room. For the first time since arriving, he remembered the gym and mentally chastised himself.

“What’s today?” Jace asked. He palmed his phone, opened the screen, and scrolled to Haley’s number.

“It’s Sunday,” Mitch answered, keeping his pace beside Jace as they left the hospital.

“He has me all messed up,” Jace said, sending a quick message to Haley. The gym was back open tomorrow for business. She’d be handling the classes and cheerleaders by herself. How had he not thought to let her know?

“Newly married men usually feel that way,” Mitch said and bumped Jace in the shoulder. “I think I should look into a side business of selling marriage licenses to partners of unsuspecting men. I bet I’d make a killing.”

“It didn’t happen that way,” Jace said, looking up panicked.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, man.” Mitch chuckled and hit the outside doors to the hospital, opening them for Jace. All the teasing stopped right then. Mitch went from easygoing guy to deputy in the blink of an eye. Jace felt safer than he had in his entire life.

Chapter 32

Nothing about the flight back to the mainland was easy, mainly because Jace fretted over everything, worse than any mother hen Colt had ever seen. As a matter of fact, his normally level-headed, quiet, roll with whatever’s tossed his way Jace wouldn’t settle down for a minute. Jace only took his seat and buckled in after the flight attendant’s third most stern look. Even then, Jace kept his eyes on Colt the entire time, from takeoff till landing.

Almost from the time he had opened his eyes after having this accident, Colt learned to hide any discomfort from Jace. If his brow lowered a centimeter, Jace was right there, stopping everyone from their duties until he could see for himself that Colt was okay. A really sweet gesture. Sort of.

Turning less sweet with each mile that passed. There were two sides to how Colt felt about his overprotective honey. One, he’d never been so completely cared for in his life. Jace took care of him like he’d always wanted someone too. He was attentive, and considerate, on top of his medicine and every one of his needs. The other side had Colt wanting to cuss up a streak.

His pain levels were at an all-time high and his attitude low as they drove through the streets of Dallas, Texas. Between the pressures of hiding the pain from Jace and his inability to move, he constantly bit his tongue. His only recourse was to voluntarily take the drugs he’d been denying himself, which just made Jace unreasonably happy.

The funny part was Dr. Knox had his medicines ready. There was no pulling bottles, checking doses. The pills were in his hands, waiting for Colt to give in. Clearly, Dr. Knox could see how Jace acted and actually whispered to Colt that he held out longer than Dr. Knox would have in the same situation.

Mitch rode with them the entire trip. The guy stayed in full official enforcer of the law mode. He didn’t crack a smile or chat the entire way. He stayed focused and vigilant. He took this seriously and for some reason that bothered Colt the most. If Mitch was so worried, did he fear another attack? Was there something Mitch knew about the accident that he wasn’t telling them?

The Dallas Broncos finagled things to where Colt was going into his rivalry team's camp to hide. The team spared no expense in providing care for Colt. They gave him the best hospitals with the best staff and most up-to-date equipment, and all while almost no one knew Colt Michaels was on the premises. The privacy wouldn’t hold, but every extra minute Mitch had to continue the investigation in private was better for them.

Other than the hovering new husband, Colt’s intense pain, the investigation, and the hiding, the other big white elephant in the room had to do with how extensive his injuries were. Colt would work hard, do everything they said to do, but he knew this next season was a wash for him. His right arm was shot. It was too badly broken. He’d be going under the knife again in the morning to place all the screws and rods just right. The operation would last hours, mending three solid breaks along just that arm.

In Colt’s mental, never to breathe out loud again, estimation, the Compartment syndrome was the final nail in his throwing arm’s coffin. At best case scenario, he was faced with many, many months just to get his arm back to functional. There could be a random miracle and Colt would work for it, but he wasn’t delusional. He knew the odds were stacked against him.

Since he was a man in love, even to a protective mothering type, Colt never had time to get too far down. He had actually taken on the full attitude of being thankful he had been in that car, not Jace. His entire attitude focused on live, laugh, love Jace Montgomery, and keeping him safe was paramount in his overall plan.

Besides, that cheerleading gym was Jace’s life. For him to be incapacitated, and so solidly out of the day to day operations, would have done damage to the gym’s reputation and crushed everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. The idea of Jace being hurt caused Colt to want to drink again on a level he’d never experienced before. He absolutely couldn’t take even the thought of Jace hurt. In Colt’s estimation, things had worked out the way they were supposed to work out.