Vendetta
Part 7
"That's good, Tom. You're doing great. Just take it slow and easy," the physical therapist encouraged. Tom's arms were supporting most of his weight on the parallel bars. He moved his left leg forward, ignoring the stabbing pain in his back and thigh. He wasn't going to let the injury beat him. He needed to get out of the hospital and back on the streets. That was the only way he would be able to help Jeremy.
He took one more step, putting pressure on the injured hip and suddenly felt the leg collapse beneath him. Peg, the therapist, was instantly behind him, supporting his weight until he was able to steady himself, "Whoa, there." She grabbed him around chest and pushed him upright. The pain from his actions shot through him and he grimaced, but said nothing. "You okay? Do you want to take a break?" Peg asked, a concerned look in her eyes.
Tom shook his head tersely, "No. Let's keep going."
Peg looked at her patient skeptically, "All right, one more pass, but then we call it quits for the morning."
"No stretching?" Tom looked hopefully at the therapist.
The woman grinned, "Nice try. We'll call it quits after we do some stretches. We wouldn't want that hip seizing up on you later." She smiled at the detective, "And if you're good, I'll throw in a massage for you later today."
Tom blushed slightly and returned a grin, "How good would I have to be?"
She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "You're already there."
Tom was momentarily speechless as he watched the therapist walk to the other side of the bars.
"Let's do it," she encouraged the cop. Tom turned his body so that he could walk back the way he came and immediately saw Cassy standing next to his ever-present guard, watching his progress.
"Hey Cass," he said, the pain suddenly gone, his attitude motivated by Peg's encouraging words.
"Hi Partner. It's great to see you up and on your feet," she approached the two, standing next to the therapist. "How's it going?" she asked the woman.
"He's doing great considering its his first day up and moving around," the woman smiled.
"You aren't in a lot of pain?" Cassy asked, a slightly worried look in her eyes.
"Nah, it's not too bad. I can live with it," Tom reassured.
"Do you mind if we talk about the case?" Cassy asked, looking at both Tom and Peg for approval.
Peg answered before Tom could respond. "He really should be concentrating on his therapy, not trying to work on police business."
Tom spoke up, "Trust me, my therapy will come along ten times better if I can stay up to date with what's going on at work."
Peg shook her head, "That goes against all the rules."
"For me?" Tom's basset hound eyes focused on the woman and he knew by looking at Peg's face that he had just won the debate.
She gave him a crooked grin and shrugged her shoulders, "God, how can I argue with that?" She shook her head, laughing.
Cassy smiled at the banter between the two, "Glad to see I'm not the only one those work on."
Tom shrugged, "Hey, whatever works." He looked seriously at Cassy as he took his first slow step, "So what have you got?" He successfully pushed down the groan of pain that wanted to rise up when his weight hit his hip.
Cassy's face now matched Tom's seriousness. "Not much. We haven't come up with a match on any of the fingerprints taken from the John Does or from those found in the garage."
"All that means is that our boys haven't been caught before." Tom had successfully taken another full step, still hiding his discomfort.
Peg watched her patient, ignoring the conversation. While his voice didn't betray his pain, she could see that he was clearly hurting. His eyes spoke volumes. He took another step and made it to the end of the bars.
"Okay, hot shot. I'm calling it quits for you," she interjected. She pushed the wheelchair to the bars. "Turn around and have a seat. . .your limo awaits."
Tom turned and slowly lowered himself down in the chair. He held his breath anticipating the pain that would shoot through his body when his hip made contact with the chair. Cassy was suddenly at his side helping ease his way down.
She gripped his upper arms, trying to give additional support. She could feel his biceps shake with fatigue. She looked into his face for the first time since arriving and saw the same fatigue in his eyes. "You're wiped out," she muttered.
Tom ignored her comment and sat back in the chair, gritting his teeth. "Did you talk to the owner of the garage?"
Cassy and Peg gave him disapproving stares. Tom, frustrated, repeated, "Did you talk to the owner?"
"Yeah. He's pleading innocence. Not surprising under the circumstances. He gave us a lead to the guy who brought the Jaguar into the shop. A guy named Maney Brandt. We ran Brandt's name through the system. He has a long history of auto theft. In fact he just got out of the state pen six months ago."
"Any history of drug smuggling?" Tom said as Peg rolled his wheel chair over to the exercise mats.
"None. I don't think he was involved with the drugs in the car. We've put an APB out for his arrest. No luck yet."
Peg helped Tom out of the chair again. "Let's get you down." She turned his back to the mat, stood behind him and slowly assisted him to the floor. This time, Tom couldn't suppress his moan of pain.
Cassy rushed forward, worried at the sound. "Thomas? You okay?" She kneeled down next to her partner. Tom nodded, silent because he was biting his lip, concentrating on pushing down the pain.
"Take deep breaths, Tom," Peg suggested. Tom followed her instructions. "Better?"
"Yeah," Tom finally spoke. "Let's get this over with." He started to lie back on the mat. Cassy and Peg took him by the shoulders and cushioned the movement.
Peg moved into position in front of the left leg and began to lift it into the air, stretching the muscle and working the hip joint back and forth.
To take his mind off the discomfort, Tom looked at Cassy, "What about Jeremy? How's he doing?" Cassy shrugged her shoulders, saying nothing. Tom looked into her eyes and saw the truth. "He blames me doesn't he."
"Oh Tom, I don't know. I think he's mad at the world right now."
"No, not the world. . .just me." Tom whispered, and then moaned as the pain hit again.
"Not just you. He's mad at the men who shot him, he's mad at the hospital, he's mad at the system which put his father in jail. . ." she paused for a moment.
"And he's mad at me." Tom closed his eyes. "Hell, I'd be mad at me too if I were in his shoes."
"Just give him some time, Thomas. He just needs a chance to grieve and then a chance to heal. A lot has happened to him. . ." Cassy reasoned.
Tom said nothing. Peg moved the leg again, stretching it beyond discomfort. Agony penetrated his being, and a loud groan escaped his lips. Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, as Tom tried to convince himself that the tears were his reaction to the physical pain, nothing more.
End Part 7
To Part 8