ways that a patient could fuck up your back.
They could fight you, kick you, move when you told them to stay still, weigh a fucking ton, but as long as they were conscious, they could be moved without throwing out your fucking back. It didn’t matter if they weighed fifty pounds or three hundred pounds, trying to move someone when they were unconscious was going to have you reciting every curse word you ever heard and inventing some of your own. A conscious person could center their weight, be forced to move against their will with momentum, and correct themselves when they were thrown off balance, but an unconscious person…
That was just dead weight.
The same could be said for someone that was passively laying on a bed, keeping their muscles relaxed, forcing the hundred-and-twenty-pound woman trying to drag him out of bed to work ten times harder.
“Chase!” Sloane growled, making him chuckle as she gave up on trying to pull him onto his back and switched to trying to push him over.
“Yes, Pookie?”
“Get up!” she snapped, obviously determined to see this thing through.
“Sorry. Can’t,” he said, shrugging into his pillow.
“We need to go,” Sloane said, sounding winded, pissed, and nowhere near ready to give up.
“Oh, and where do we need to go?” Chase asked mockingly, deciding that the poor thing needed a break.
“We need to–Oomph!” but whatever Sloane was about to say was cut off by a surprised squeal, a grunt, and a gasp when he suddenly turned over, admittedly a bit awkwardly with his legs not cooperating and all, grabbed her by the waist and yanked her onto the bed next to him.
Much better.
Sighing, long and loud for the pure joy of fucking with her head, he pulled her closer, tightened his hold around her and settled in for what promised to be a wonderful nap. When she tried to wiggle free, he simply ignored her, deciding that was for the best.
“Don’t make me kill you,” Sloane simply said as she gave up trying to wiggle her way to freedom and focused on trying to remove his arm from around her waist.
“Is something amiss, Pookie?” he asked, carefully shifting onto his side, careful to keep his hold on her.
“We need to go,” Sloane said, trying to shove his arm away.
“No, we really don’t,” Chase said, smiling as he once again closed his eyes and settled in for a nap.
“If we don’t go now, then we won’t get another chance until next week,” she argued as though he knew what the hell she was talking about.
Since he didn’t, Chase decided to give her a chance to clarify things simply because he was feeling generous. “Where is it exactly that we need to go? And why won’t we get a chance to do it until next week if we don’t go now?” Chase asked, not because he cared, but because he liked to know all the plans that she had for him so that he could destroy them one by one.
He was starting to see it as a hobby of sorts.
Giving up on her ineffectual shoves, she folded her arms over her chest and glared at the ceiling, and he only knew this because he peeked. While she glared, Sloane said, “Your sister has decided to fill up your schedule with therapy, neurosurgeons, doctors, chiropractors, and about a million other things that you don’t need at the moment. I was hoping to get you to pick out a new wheelchair since yours is–”
“There’s nothing wrong with my wheelchair,” Chase grumbled, cutting her off because the mention of his sister and her bullshit attempts to run his life was wrecking his good mood.
“It’s warped, one tire wobbles, the seat is worn, the back is ripped, the footrests don’t lock, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear it was a hospital wheelchair,” Sloane said, finishing with a stubborn sigh while he laid there trying not to laugh.
Since he’d stolen it from a hospital, Chase decided not to argue the point. Besides, getting a wheelchair that didn’t cut into his ass might not be such a bad idea.
“We’ll go after our nap,” he said, not really surprised that she hadn’t slapped him yet since patient safety seemed to be a big thing for her.
“Can’t,” Sloane muttered, sounding exhausted as she lay there, giving up glaring and settled for staring at the ceiling.
“Yes, we can,” Chase said, releasing his hold on her so that he could push himself over onto his back and