if he gave the overwrought woman a little space since she seemed to be on the verge of some sort of breakdown.
“I-I’m going to kill you,” Sloane managed to choke out, making him chuckle.
“It could have been worse,” he pointed out as he rolled himself into the kitchen, noting that this new wheelchair was definitely an improvement over the last one.
“You’re a jerk,” Sloane said on the way to her bedroom, making him chuckle as he opened the refrigerator and loaded his lap with deli meat, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and every condiment he could get his hands on.
Hoping for some chips to go with his sandwich, he placed everything on the kitchen table and rolled over to the counter. Since she insisted on using the cabinets instead of piling everything on the counters, he was forced to lock his wheelchair, grab the armrests and push himself up, and just before he had to put weight on his useless legs, he shifted his weight forward, grabbed onto the counter and leaned forward on his elbows. Grinding his jaw, Chase ignored the way that his arms trembled and shifted his weight to his right so that he could reach up and open the large cabinet door above him.
“Shit!” he snapped when the move threatened to drop him on his ass.
Readjusting his weight, Chase pulled himself up further so that he was leaning over the counter and reached back up only to get dragged back down by his legs that were nothing more than dead weight. Throwing the cabinet above him one last look, he shook his head in disgust as his body trembled harder and he realized that he’d fucked up.
“Pookie?” Chase said, hating to ask for help, but it was either that or risk another trip to the emergency room.
“I’m not in the mood, Chase,” Sloane said, sounding adorably pissed and making him chuckle even as he was forced to pull his weight back up when his legs threatened to pull him down again.
“I could use a hand here, Pookie.”
“And I could use a patient that doesn’t try to get me felt up by security!”
“You know you loved it,” Chase managed to get out as he looked around for something to grab hold of when his body started slipping again.
“Jerk,” she said, not really sounding like she was on her way to help him.
“I really could use a little help here,” he said, trying to pull himself back up, but his arms wouldn’t work. “Shit!”
“That is the last time that I”
“Sloane!” he yelled as his arms gave out and he lost his hold.
Before he hit the floor and got tangled up in his wheelchair, Sloane was there, grabbing him from behind and safely taking him to the floor, where she kept her hold on him as he tried to catch his breath.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Sloane snapped while he lay there, gasping for air as his body continued to tremble.
“Shit,” he finally managed to get out.
Closing his eyes, he settled back against her as she ran trembling hands over him, checking for any damage as she tore into him. “You can’t do stuff like this, Chase. You either have to learn to ask for help or get off your ass and start going to your physical therapy sessions,” she bit out, sounding seriously pissed as he struggled to catch his breath and make sense out of what just happened.
“Next time you pull a stunt like that I quit,” Sloane snapped as she checked his chest and ribs for any damage.
“I couldn’t do it,” Chase said numbly as he stared at the counter in disbelief.
For the first time since the accident happened, he realized just how weak he really was and he fucking hated it. He hated being this weak, hated needing to yell for help to get a bag of fucking chips. He was truly fucking pathetic, Chase realized, forcing himself to sit up so that he could grab the wheelchair and pull it closer.
It took several tries and Sloane’s help further pissing him off, but he eventually got himself back in his chair. With an absently murmured, “Thank you,” he forced his trembling arms to push the wheelchair toward the laundry room and once he was there, he kept going until he had the door open and he was rolling into the garage.
“Chase? Where are you going?” Sloane asked as she followed him.
“Fixing this,” he bit out, heading straight for the old weight equipment that he used to