Alex winked. “Anyone know where I can get some cows?”
James Woods sighed as he hung up the phone. God, this sucked big time, but what else was he going to do? There was no one else who could deal with the issues he faced, no one who cared enough to bother with the fucking paperwork, the long hours, the flights back and forth, or the horrendous expense, both financially and physically. He was exhausted, run ragged, and the little sleep he got at night was littered with dreams of a damaged redhead far too young and vulnerable for him. She did not need his shit piled on top of her own. When things had been taken care of, when they finally knew what they were dealing with, then he’d give in to the mating pull.
He was not making her deal with his bullshit.
He.
Was.
Not.
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his forehead as the creature inside him howled with longing. The headache that had become his constant companion wouldn’t go away. The Wolf whimpered, wanting out in the worst possible way.
The Wolf wanted its mate, wanted her touch, her comfort, and it couldn’t have it.
“Not now,” Jim muttered, hoping to soothe it.
It grumbled, but quieted down. It knew the truth of what Jim was going through, and the support and love it gave him had made everything more bearable. When he felt at his most alone and he just couldn’t bear it any longer, the Wolf was there, reminding him that he would never be alone again.
His life was completely fucked up, but the Wolf was one of the bright spots.
A nurse in blue scrubs stuck her head out the door. “Dr. Woods, Mr. Strickland?”
Jim stood, putting down the magazine he’d been halfheartedly leafing through. “Yes?”
The nurse smiled. “Dr. Abbot will see you now.”
Jim nodded and turned to Spencer. “Ready?”
Spencer blew out a breath. “As I’ll ever be.” The cheeky grin and blond hair reminded Jim of his father, but the golden brown eyes came straight from Spencer’s mother. Jim pretended he didn’t see how that grin shook, or the way Spencer clutched at the wheels of his chair. “I mean, it’s not like it’s life or death, right?”
“Right.” Jim rolled his eyes, smiling as his little brother laughed.
Jim had nothing to laugh about. They would finally find out, after numerous tests and multiple diagnoses that turned out to be wrong, exactly what was going on with his half brother.
The nurse held the door open as Spencer wheeled himself past with a jaunty wave. His brother couldn’t walk any longer, but he made the most out of his situation. Spencer rarely let himself get down, facing his difficulties with a smile.
Jim wasn’t quite so optimistic.
The last diagnosis Spencer had gotten was ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. It was a debilitating and, in most cases, ultimately fatal neurological disorder that affected voluntary muscle movements like speaking, walking and swallowing. ALS eventually affected the ability to breathe, causing respiratory failure and death.
There was no known cure.
If it was confirmed by Dr. Abbot that Spencer had ALS, his prognosis was not good. Most patients died within five years of onset, and Spencer had been ill for three of them. Dr. Abbot had finally agreed to see them after numerous phone calls from Jim and Spencer both.
Spencer felt he did not have ALS. After all, he could still speak and function normally other than the tingling and weakness in his body. It was beginning to spread to his hands now, and he’d already lost use of his legs. If it spread to his upper extremities as well he would be utterly dependent on others for even the simplest things.
Jim was determined to be that someone. He wasn’t there when his brother was growing up, but he was here now, dammit. And unlike his father, Jim planned to do the right thing.