Lord Have Mercy (Southern Gentleman 2)

A scuff, followed by a thud.

I frowned and tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

“Flint?” I asked, this time a little clearer headed.

“Yeah?” he grumbled, sounding deeply asleep.

“Is Dooley next to you?” I whispered sleepily.

I felt Flint move and then heard the bed squeak as he leaned over the side of the bed to, my guess, feel for Dooley.

Despite Dooley’s love and devotion to me, he was still one hundred percent Flint’s dog. If given a choice, he’d choose Flint every single time.

That included sleeping on his side of the bed.

“He’s right here,” Flint said a few seconds later. “Why?”

He sounded much more awake now.

“I heard something,” I explained. “It sounded like a thud.”

A thud loud enough to wake me.

Though, that wasn’t saying much. I’d always been a very light sleeper.

So light, in fact, I could hear the neighbors as they walked out to their cars and closed the doors two houses down.

Hell, I could also hear the paper getting delivered.

But the sound I’d heard wasn’t something I’d ever heard before.

Otherwise I would’ve been able to go back to sleep.

“Hear it anymore?” he asked, sitting up in bed.

I strained to hear anything, but ultimately the sound wasn’t reproduced.

“No,” I admitted. “Not anymore.”

“I’ll go look.”

That’s when I started to panic.

“Flint, you’re in casts and can’t walk!” I whispered, throwing the covers off of me.

He snorted. “I’m in walking boots, Camryn. Remember?” He paused. “Not to mention I have Dooley.”

I deflated.

That’d been a new development after school yesterday.

We’d gone in for a checkup on Flint’s legs, and they’d cut the casts off of each side. After a few x-rays, it was decided that the only support Flint needed now was his lower legs on both sides, which hadn’t healed as fast as his hip. He’d spend another four more weeks in his walking boots, and from there, he’d be free to walk without even those.

I swallowed hard.

“Remember that the doctor told you no sudden movements,” I whispered, still panicking.

“Yes, ma’am,” Flint said, barely audible.

Then I heard his bedside table open, then close.

Moments later, I heard the shuffle of his boots.

There was no denying the sound of those. They weren’t quiet in the least. Especially on his hardwood floors.

“You’re not going to sneak up on anybody,” I muttered to myself.

Then there were the click-clicks of Dooley’s nails clicking right along with the clop-clop of the boots.

I sat up and put on pants, followed shortly by switching on the light.

My eyes went to the clock and I realized that it was hours away from when I had to get up to go open the gym.

The gym that was slowly sucking the life out of my soul.

I loved the gym.

But what I didn’t love was getting there an hour and a half early, getting smoothies ready to go, as well as meal prep orders that Flint and Carmichael had started doing about the time that he’d gotten hurt during his accident.

Yesterday, when I’d practically forced Flint to go to the gym, I’d realized how much he missed it.

Me, though?

Yeah, I didn’t miss it at all.

Not even a little bit.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work out there anymore.

The more time I spent there, the more time I realized that I wasn’t fond of the weight-lifting aspect of CrossFit.

I was interested in the running and body weight exercises, though.

Which made me think about finding a different gym that catered more specifically to my likes and dislikes with CrossFit.

I almost considered bringing a class idea up with Flint but hadn’t had the time nor the inclination to do it just yet.

That’d be just one more class that I’d have to find some help to oversee, and I just wasn’t into self-torture.

The clop-clop returned, and I looked up to find Flint standing in the doorway, staring at me.

“Hey,” I smiled.

Or tried to.

He caught the move.

“What’s wrong?”

I tried to clear the worry from my face. “I’m worried. Did you find anything?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing. It must’ve been something outside that you heard. Probably the neighbors.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. Your neighbors are noisy.”

And they were. They didn’t even try to be quiet when they were locking their cars in the middle of the night.

Where I would’ve manually locked the cars so the horn didn’t sound, they straight up locked it from their key fobs—ten times—just to listen to the honk.

“That’s one neighbor,” he laughed.

I watched him shuffle back to the bed, smiling at Dooley who waited until Flint was all the way seated to go back to the bed that was on the floor for him.

Once dog and man were settled back in bed, I reached for the light.

But before I could get myself back under the blankets and once again cocooned in my spot, Flint reached for me and dragged me to his side.