Roughing the Kicker (Austin Troopers)

Chapter Twenty-two

R ye didn’t want to answer the phone. He wanted to get lost in the feeling of Cutter’s lips on his. Damn it. He knew he should’ve turned the phone off as soon as he deleted all of Kristen’s texts and voice mails. Cutter was right. She was nothing if not persistent.

Persistently annoying.

Interrupting that kiss? Nope. He’d had enough. He was turning the damn phone off now so he could get back to what mattered. Kissing Cutter. It didn’t get much better than that.

When he glanced at the display, though, he it wasn’t Kristen’s name on the caller ID. Instead, the screen read ‘Seton Medical Center.’ One of the local hospitals, and the one closest to his house.

Rye froze as Cutter asked him who it was. “The hospital. Seton Medical Center,” he said as he picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Yes, hello. I’m looking for Ryeland Lenhart,” a female voice said.

“That’s me,” he said, apprehension setting in.

“Oh, good. My name is Melody. I’m a nurse in the Emergency Department here at Seton Medical Center. You’re listed as the emergency contact for a Kristen Somerton?”

Oh, God. Various scenarios started running through his head, and none of them were good ones. “Yes. She’s my fiancée.” In his mind, she was his ex-fiancée, but until he officially ended things, she wasn’t an ex. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Kris?”

Rye noticed a look cross Cutter’s face and tried to read it. It appeared to be a mix of concern and annoyance, which wasn’t too different from what Rye felt himself.

“Ms. Somerton was brought to our ED by ambulance about half an hour,” the nurse said. “From what we’ve been able to figure out, she was outside your house, incoherent and shaking, by one of your neighbors.”

One of the neighbors. They weren’t close to any of them anymore. With Kristen’s problems, it became easier to keep them at a distance as well. Except Kimberly two doors down resented that, and the nosey divorcee continued to try to ingratiate herself into their lives. The more they tried to push her away, the more meddlesome Kimberly became. Rye didn’t how or why Kimberly would have ended up at their house, but his money was on her being the neighbor in question.

“Is Kristen okay?” He asked the nurse. “Do you know what happened?” Rye had his suspicions, but he’d wait for the nurse to tell him.

“We’re not sure. The doctor is in with her now,” she said, “but he suspects some kind of overdose.”

Overdose. Rye sucked in a breath. Nailed it.

“You said Ms. Somerton is your fiancée?”

“That’s right.”

“Then I think you need to be here.”

“Yes. Okay,” Rye said. “I’m on my way.” He ended the call and looked at Cutter. “I have to go.”

“I heard that,” Cutter said. “What’s going on? What happened to Kristen?”

“They’re not sure, but she might have overdosed.” Probably because he was ignoring her calls, and she was desperate and alone. No. Rye didn’t want to think about that. He wasn’t going to blame himself. It wasn’t his fault.

Or was it?

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, Rye.” Cutter sounded like he meant it, which made Rye appreciate him even more.

“Thanks.” He grabbed the shoes and socks Cutter had brought for him and put them on. They were a little snug, but they’d do, and Rye was thankful they were a similar size. Dress shoes and shorts would be an awful look, and he wouldn’t be allowed in a hospital emergency room barefoot.

Rye slipped his phone in the pocket of the shorts. “Have you seen my wallet?”

Cutter nodded. “It’s on the coffee table in the living room.”

Where he left it the night before. He remembered now. Rye headed for the living room and grabbed his wallet, shoving it in the other pocket. The keys to his truck were on the table, too. He sure had been a mess the night before.

“You understand why I have to do this, right?” he asked Cutter.

“Sure. I get it.” It sounded like he was trying to insist it didn’t bother him when clearly it did. “You love her.”

Jesus. “No!” The last Rye needed was for Cutter to think he was rushing to Kristen’s bedside because he still loved her. That wasn’t it. It wasn’t love. That part was gone. There was, however, a sense of obligation. “It isn’t that.”

“If you say so,” Cutter said. “Just go. Do what you have to do.” His smile appeared forced, but at least it was a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Rye kissed his cheek, enjoying the feel of Cutter’s beard against his mouth. “You’re the best.”

~&~

“Yeah. The best,” Cutter muttered to himself as he watched Rye’s truck pull away from his house. At least he’d gotten a kiss before Rye left, even if it was only a peck on the cheek.

He tried to tell himself it was going to be fine. Once Rye knew that Kristen would be fine, he’d be back. And Kristen would be fine. Cutter refused to consider any other possibility.

Besides, it might not even be an overdose. It didn’t sound like the doctors knew much of anything at this point. Given what Rye had shared with Cutter about Kristen’s history, though, an overdose seemed pretty likely.

And here he’d been looking forward to spending a quiet day at home with Rye. So much for that. He could go for a bike ride, but Cutter doubted he would enjoy it. He’d be thinking too much about the day Rye went riding with him.

His phone rang as he walked back into the house. Rosie. Cutter expected she would call.

“How’s the patient?” she asked as soon as he answered.

“No sign of a concussion,” Cutter said matter-of-factly. “The wound looks okay too. That doc sure did a great job with the suture strips, especially since the procedure was done in my living room.”

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Rosie quipped. “You put a new bandage on it, right?”

“Obviously,” Cutter said. “I learned from the best, or did you forget that?”

“Wow, someone is in a mood. I thought you’d be happier, what with having a sexy man staying with you who needs you to take care of him.”

Cutter rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him. He adored his boss, but she could be annoying sometimes. “I’m not in a mood.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Fine.” He nearly spit out the word. “Rye’s not here. He left.”

“Why?” Rosie asked. “What did you do, Cutter? Did you screw up?”

“I didn’t do anything.” She was so quick to assume he was the one who messed up. Good grief. Women! Was it any wonder he preferred to date men? “If you must know, he went back to Kristen.”

“Are you kidding? That idiot. He swore he wouldn’t do that. Ugh. Men! Madre de dios . No wonder I married a woman!”

Cutter couldn’t help but laugh at that, at least for a second, before turning serious. “Rye got a call a little bit ago, from the hospital. Kristen’s in the ED. Possible overdose,” he said. “So, naturally, Rye went running.”

Rosie sighed audibly. “Okay, that sucks, but he probably only went out of obligation. Right?”

“I’m sure that’s part of it. Rye is all about obligation. And image.”

“One part good, one part bad,” Rosie mused. “Like so much of life.”

“You’re way too philosophical for nine in the morning,” Cutter told her.

“Whatever. What are you doing today, on your day off?”

Good question. What was he doing? Not spending the day with Rye, obviously. “Nothing now.”

“Okay, enough of the pity party,” Rosie scolded. “Margie and I were about to head to the farmer’s market. We’ll swing by to pick you up.”

“What? No.” Cutter groaned. “I have no desire to go to the farmer’s market.”

“Well, too bad. You can’t sit at home and pout. We’re coming to get you.”

Since he knew there was no point in arguing, Cutter muttered, “Fine,” and ended the call. The market might be marginally better than spending the day alone, wondering about Rye and Kristen. If nothing else, he could get some fresh green beans.

~&~

Rye half-listened, trying to piece together what the emergency room doctor was telling him. Apparently, the neighbor—most likely Kimberly—had seen Kristen wandering around outside their house, acting nonsensical and muttering to herself. Rye could picture it, because it didn’t sound too different from what he’d observed the night before. Except this time, Kristen’s drug use had gone too far. The effects of the cocaine had spiked both her blood pressure and her heart rate dangerously high, and she could’ve died. If she hadn’t been found when she was, she probably would have.

“We administered naloxone to bring her rate down, stabilize her blood pressure, and reduce the tremors,” the doctor said. “Essentially reduce the effects of the overdose.”

“Naloxone. I’ve heard of that,” Rye said. “Is it working?”

“It would appear so. Your wife is stable now. Awake. Her heart rate is getting back to normal. It was a bad scare, but she should be okay.”

His wife. Rye wasn’t in the mood to correct the doctor. “Thanks. Can I go in and see her now?”

“In a minute. There’s something else I want to talk to you about, first.”

“What’s that, doctor,” Rye looked at the name on his badge. “Mallorca?”

The young doctor, probably only a few years out of medical school, shuffled his feet. “Look, it may be none of my business. I admit I don’t know you,” he said. “But this could have been a lot worse than it was. If it happens again, it probably will be. You might want to look at some rehab places for your wife. Get her some help.”

The doctor was right. It was none of his damn business. Yet Rye knew he was right, so he simply nodded. “We’ll think about that. Now, can I see her?”

“Yes.” Dr. Mallorca stepped aside. “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.” Rye pushed the door open and stepped inside the room, where Kristen lay in bed. She looked like hell, but smiled when he walked in.

“Hi, Rye. Thanks for coming,” she said.

“Like I’d miss it?” He rolled a chair over and sat down. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I know I messed up,” she said. “How’s your head?”

“It’ll be fine. The team doc fixed me up.”

“I’m glad.” She looked at him. “Whose clothes are you wearing?”

Rye hesitated. “A guy from the team. Let’s not talk about that,” he said. “Right now, my only concern is that you’re okay.”

“I will be. That’s what the doctor says, anyway. It was Kimberly who found me outside.”

Of course. “I assumed so,” Rye said. “I’m glad she helped you.”

“From what they say, she might have saved my life,” Kristen continued. “I’m so sorry. I was in such a bad place after what happened last night. Us fighting. You getting hurt,” she said. “And you know what happens then.”

Rye nodded. “Yeah. I do,” he said. “I get it, but it doesn’t make it okay, Kris. None of this is okay.”

“I know that. I do.” She was almost pleading now, and Rye they needed to end the conversation. “I need to get into treatment, and not this online stuff anymore. I need to go somewhere for a while. Sober up. Make some real changes.”

At least now maybe she was getting it and moving beyond the contemplation stage to the action stage. It was a long time coming. “Yes,” Rye said. “It’s time for that.” It had been for a while, but he’d keep that part to himself.

“Will you help me?” she asked. “To find a place?”

He hesitated, but only for a second. “Of course I will.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m not going to abandon you now,” Rye promised. “Get some rest, and we’ll talk about it some more later.”

“Okay.” She gave a weak smile and closed her eyes. “Thanks, Rye?”

Once he was satisfied Kristen was resting, Rye slipped out of the room to call Cutter and fill him in on what was happening.

The trainer answered on the second ring. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you. What’s up?” he asked. “How’s Kristen?”

Rye appreciated that he would ask, because he knew Kristen was not on Cutter’s list of favorite people. “Stable,” he said. “She’ll be okay, thank goodness. She’s got to go to rehab, though.” If it was obvious before, it was more than obvious now, even without the not-so-subtle nudging from Dr. Mallorca.

“Good. I hope she can get the help she needs.”

“Me, too. At least she seems to understand now that she does need help. That she can’t do it on her own.” Rye braced himself for what he was about to do next. “I’m going to look at some places, and we’re going to figure out the best one for her.”

“We? As in you and Kristen? Together?” Naturally, Cutter picked up on the ‘we.’

“Yes,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s not what you think. I’m not sure where the relationship stands, or if I can ever go back to what we had before. That’s what I need to figure out.” Less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been adamant that he absolutely would not be going back to Kristen, and here he was, waffling again. Was her hold on him that powerful? “I know I’ve got to help her, though. She doesn’t have any family around here. I’m all she’s got.”

“Help her,” Cutter repeated. “Does that mean help her get into rehab, or stay with her long-term? Because addiction recovery is seldom a quick process.”

“No, it isn’t.” Rye let out a sigh. “And that’s what I don’t know. What I need to figure out. I’m sorry, Cutter. I really am. But this changes things.”

“Of course it does. I get it,” Cutter said. “I’m sorry, too. That any of this had to happen.”

“Thank you.” Rye exhaled. He got it. Cutter was giving him the time he needed to figure things out. “For understanding. You’re the best.”

“No, I’m not,” he replied. “And I didn’t say I understand. I get what you feel like you need to do, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s right. Or that I’m still going to be here, patiently waiting, while you figure out what the hell you want.”