A Fighting Chance

Chapter 4

Demi

I was just finishing up with a patient when Cindy, my assistant, walked over to tell me that my next appointment was waiting over in one of the consultation room. I collected the folder from her and briefly looked over it. Once I read over the patient's name, I let out a deep sigh, causing Cindy to look over at me with a creased forehead.

"Everything okay, Demi?" She asked me.

"Yeah, it's the fighter," I said as I wiggled the file in front of me, and rolled my eyes. "You know how I feel about fighters," I said again, causing Cindy to let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, I know," Cindy said over her shoulder as she turned and started to walk away. I put the file down to my side and started to make my way over to the consultation room. Once I approached the door, I stopped just short of it, and took a deep breath. I stopped and allowed my thoughts to run its course for a minute. I was always hesitant about taking on fighters, as patients, because of my past experience with my father, but I want to help all people, and I certainly wanted to get this fighter back to his normal routine and his full capacity. I am really hoping that we can skip all the small talk, and all of the fighting stories during our time together. I took another deep breath, and got my thoughts in order. I wasn't too sure what to expect with this one, and I was hoping that our sessions would be quick and to the point. I gathered my thoughts, I placed my hand on the door handle, and gently pushed it opened.

As the door opened, I walked in a little further and got a better look at my patient. I was taken back at how easy on the eyes he was. He sat there a little slouched down in his wheelchair. I watched as he sat up a little straighter once I made myself deeper into the room. I noticed his mouth was hanging open a little, and it made me want to laugh. "Hi. I'm Demi," I said as I extended my arm to shake his hand. As soon as our hands touched, I jumped a little, when I felt a spark. I looked back up at him. "You must be, Mr. Jonas," I said as I let go of his hand and made my way around to my chair that sat behind my desks. I sat down and observed Mr. Jonas very closely. He was tall, lean, but still very muscular. He looked like a good clean cut guy. He was wearing a form fitting, black hoodie that still showed off his arm muscles. They looked very strong. I looked back up to his eyes, and noticed how perfect they were. He was definitely a good site to see. Not to mention, his smile made me ogo weak in the knees.

"Um yah. Nick. Call me, Nick," he stammered out.

I gave him a quick smile when I noticed how nervous he was. I didn't want to draw attention to it, because to be honest, he was making me nervous, too. "Okay, Nick. Let's get started," I said as I opened up his file to review with him. I looked it over, while he sat there, leaning back in his chair. "You got pretty messed up," I said under my breath, speaking to myself. I pointed my pen down on a section of the file, and looked up at Nick. "I see in the notes from your doctor that you need to get started on working the "good" limbs because you're a fighter," I said as I leaned my head on my chin. "Ever thought about switching careers?" I said with a side smirk, hopefully not offending him.

Nick let out a chuckle, "You sound like my mom. Did she tell you to say that?"

"No, but when this kind of damage happens..." I said as I waved my finger around Nick to emphasize how badly damaged his body was right now. I went to continue, but he cut in.

"I didn't get injured in the cage, or in a fight," he quickly chimed in. I leaned back a little in my chair and was a little surprised to hear that these injuries did not come from a fight. It was evident that he was pretty banged up, why else would he have these kind of injuries?

"You didn't? Then what happened to you?" I asked him curiously.

"I got jumped over in an alley between the gym that I work out at and the bar my brother works at," he calmly said as he watched me.