Offside

“Go on now!” Greg said with a big sweep of his hand toward the ramp.

I grasped the handholds above the wheels and pushed myself forward a little. The ramp wasn't too steep, and after a couple of restarts, I made it to the door without too much trouble. Nicole started clapping, which earned her a glare from me, but it was pretty quickly followed by a smirk. I reached up and tried to open the door, but since it swung outward, I had to reposition myself a bit to get it open. I had to navigate a bit of a bump over the threshold, but then I was inside.

My mouth dropped open again.

The Skye residence wasn't a big one at all with the lower floor mostly consisting of the front and back exits with a decent sized living room between them and an open kitchen off to the side. The back half of the living room had been partitioned off with what looked like the walls from cubicles you would find in an office. On the other side was a bed with rails I could use to get myself in and out, a dresser, and a nightstand. As Greg and Nicole came in behind me, they showed me what used to be a walk-in coat closet, now converted into a small bathroom.

“Holy shit,” I murmured. I looked from Greg to Nicole again, and they were both all smiles.

“We got the shorter toilet and sink,” Greg said, “so it would be easier for you to reach. It's still going to be a little crowded because the room just isn't that big, but I think it will work.”

I wheeled over to get a better look, but I was pretty sure it would all work fine. The dresser was long but short, so I could reach all the drawers from the wheelchair, and there was even a little docking station on the nightstand for my iPhone.

I had to swallow hard to keep myself from tearing up.

“You guys didn't have to do any of this,” I said quietly. I wasn't sure if I was more embarrassed or more wonderstruck. Then it hit me how much this probably cost to have it all done, and I freaked a little. Greg's salary had to be pretty much shit in this little town. There's no way they could afford this. I turned to him with my eyes narrowed. “What did this run you?”

“Don't you worry about—”

“Bullshit!” I yelled back. “There is no way—no way you are going to pay for all of this!”

“Thomas…” Nicole started.

“No!” I said, adamantly. “I'm going to have a big freaking chunk dropped in my lap from Dad's insurance, and there is no way you are paying for all of this!”

“Look here,” Greg said with a bit of impatience, “I decided to do this, and I'll pay for it however I want!”

“Absolutely not!”

“I will!”

“Bullshit,” I repeated.

“Stop swearing,” Greg retorted. “You saved my daughter's life, and there is no way I can possibly ever repay you for that. You're in that damn chair because you saved her, and I'll do whatever the hell I please to make you comfortable here!”

“Dammit!” I yelled. “If it wasn't for my dad, I would have driven Nicole to school that day. All this shit is his fault! HIS FAULT!”

That was when I pretty much lost it.

“If he hadn't threatened her, I never would have broke up with her!” I cried out, and the hot tears that had been threatening to come out trickled down my face. “If he hadn't been shoving me around all that time…if he hadn't done all that shit…if he…if he…”

I took a deep breath again.

“It's all that bastard's fault! All of it! He wasn't even my father, dammit! Everything is his fault! HIS FAULT!”

My stomach lurched, and I had to swallow to keep myself from puking as bile rose into my throat. My nose was already all stuffed up, and I couldn't breathe properly at all and started hyperventilating. Nicole was suddenly there, kneeling in front of my chair and wrapping her arms around me as I bawled like a fucking baby.

I don't know how long I just sobbed with her holding me, alternating between screaming about everything he put me through and just sobbing incoherently. Eventually I quieted down and could hear Nicole's voice in my ear.

“It's okay,” she whispered. “You're okay now. He can't hurt you anymore.”

Once I stopped blubbering, Greg was there, handing me a glass of water and a box of tissues. I cleaned myself up, definitely fully embarrassed now, and drank the water. It felt good on my throat. When I had myself relatively composed, I looked back to Greg through still-bleary eyes.

“It's his fault,” I repeated softly. “He's going to foot the bill for this.”

Greg eyed me for a minute and then crossed his arms.

“We'll split it,” he finally said. I knew from his tone of voice it was final, so I nodded in agreement.