I flip him off but my lips almost curve upward. “You’re already dead, so it shouldn’t make much of a difference being here,” Lo quips with a smartass fucking smile. “I’m in fucking hell,” I grit as I keep my knee in place, the muscles adjusting. The further I go today, the further I go tomorrow. It’s good, even if it’s tender and sore and screeching. I prop myself on my forearm, watching my knee do the simplest action with the most fucking strain. “You would’ve been here a week ago if you tried harder.”
He bends my knee towards my chest, and I inhale strongly. I give him a look before dropping back down. “Now,” Lo says, “do your bastard brother a favor and lie the fuck down.” I rub my face and then nod a couple times. It’s not the kind where he needs to shatter his leg to feel it. I thought he didn’t understand this pain, but I know he does. I cry because I don’t fucking know if I’ll ever be the same.
He puts a hand on my back, and after a long pause, he says, “Hard things are the right things. I can’t explain to him what I’m going through. Home Insurance Coverage: A Detailed Guide
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