The job.
The city.
X.
I let out a slow, long breath.
I wasn't going anywhere.
Chapter Eleven
Xavier
I was pissed off when I'd found out that Father O'Toole hired Nori without even discussing it with me. Seeing her had been...I couldn't say I hadn't loved seeing her again. But it hadn't been easy.
And it hadn't gotten any easier.
All weekend, I'd been torn between wanting to see her and wanting to stay hidden in my room, like some sort of freak, the monster my nightmares said I was.
I'd never been a big reader, and being stuck in a bed for most of three months hadn't really changed that, but it hadn’t kept Father O'Toole from reading to me when I would just lie in bed and do nothing. One of those books was The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
The relevance of the subject matter hadn't been lost on me.
The irony was, I may have been a monster on the outside like Quasimodo, but I was far from as pure as heart as that noble character as could be.
Which meant I definitely didn't deserve sympathy or compassion. And I sure as hell didn't deserve love. Especially not from someone like Nori. No one was perfect, I knew, but she was a genuinely good person. Kind. Strong. The sort of person who deserved a man just as good and strong.
The worst part of it was, the more I tried to convince myself I wasn't good for her, the more I wanted her. And that didn't make the weekend any easier.
The one time I'd seen her was for a short time on Saturday, when she came in with Hador. I'd wanted to see her smile, laugh. I wanted her to be here because she wanted to be near me. But I knew that wasn’t her reasoning. She was here because I was broken, and she'd been hired to try to fix me. The more that thought resounded in my head, the more I hadn't been able to look at her without seeing her pity.
When she'd sequestered herself upstairs, I'd allowed myself to fall deeper into the darkness than ever before. I hadn't even bothered to get out of bed yesterday, and I probably wouldn't have done it today if my physical therapist wasn’t coming in. Kipp Hendy was the only person Father O'Toole had hired who I didn't despise and who didn't care what I said to him, or how awful I behaved. If I wasn't down in the room to meet him, he would've come into my bedroom and dumped water on me.
I knew that because he'd done it last week.
So, even though I didn't want to, I forced myself down the hall and into the therapy room to wait for Kipp to let himself in. I didn't, however, bother to shower. I didn't give a damn if Kipp thought I smelled bad.
I was in the room alone for less than five minutes before Kipp arrived. He was a little older than me and had served in the Navy to pay for college. When he graduated, he'd turned his attention to treating veterans from all branches of the military. He might not have been army, but he got it in a way no one else could've.
“Did you do your stretches over the weekend?” he asked as he entered the room. When I didn't answer, his pale eyes narrowed. “I'm not wasting my time on some pansy-ass who doesn't want to work for it. They teach you that in the army?”
I glared at him. I knew what he was doing and why, but I let it motivate me anyway. “I'll show you pansy-ass,” I grumbled. “Let's get this over with.”
I was half-way through the usual series of stretches when I heard someone knock on the open door. My concentration slipped as I turned. Father O'Toole had gone into the city first thing this morning. There was only one person it could be.
“Excuse me.” Her voice was professional but warm as she looked at Kipp. “I'm Nori Prinz.”
Kipp straightened and grinned. “Kipp Hendy.” He walked over to her and put out a hand.
I scowled when she took it, giving him a smile that was completely unnecessary. I stopped what I was doing and waited for her to acknowledge my presence. But she didn't. She kept looking and smiling at Kipp as he explained to her the different exercises he had me doing.
I was suddenly and painfully aware of how good-looking Kipp was, with his copper hair and stupid smile. He wasn't like Zed, the sort of attractive that turned heads everywhere he went, but he had the kind of chiseled good looks that women liked.
I pushed myself up and headed over to the speed bag he'd set up in the corner. I'd never really been one for boxing, but I had to admit, hitting something was a lot more satisfying than weight-lifting or running. Especially if I was picturing people's faces on the bag. Usually, it was my asshole father, but at the moment, there was someone else I wanted to hit more.
“What're you doing?” Kipp asked before I started on the bag. “We need to work on your leg and side.”
“My leg's fine,” I snapped. I did a deep knee bend and managed not to wince when the skin on my hip pulled. “See.”