In Striking Distance

Chapter Seven | Deflection

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, stop trying to act like a macho man, and just lean on my shoulder."

Before Orson could open his mouth to protest, Thea slipped underneath his arm, grabbed it, and placed it around her shoulders.

Orson's voice was sharp against her ear, "I don't need your help."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and I'm a millionaire."

"Hmm, you may not be, but I am."

He leaned into her for support, and Thea's mouth curved upwards at the movement.

Finally, they were getting somewhere. She had watched Orson struggle on his crutches from the short walk from her apartment to her elevator, but she'd snapped when seeing his struggle in the parking garage.

"You know what, maybe its best if you just wait here and I'll go get the car."

Orson's knuckles clenched around the crutches, "I'm fine, I'm just a bit slow."

He was hiding it well, but the bead of sweat on his forehead gave it away. Orson was in immense pain, and she knew he was a proud man. Well, the previous version of him had been— and she assumed little had changed in that regard. So, she gave him an out.

"I'd like to arrive at the doctor's office on time, thank you very much," Thea said nonchalantly as she dug out her keys from her pocket, "Even if you try following me, I can still outrun you. Stay put, I'm bringing the car."

She didn't wait for a response. It wasn't worth whatever dumb thing he was going to say.

⚽⚽⚽

"Orson Adler?"

Thea poked Orson's arm and he removed his headphones. She pointed towards the receptionist's desk.

The receptionist smiled their way, "The doctor will see you in room two now."

Orson shoved his headphones into his pocket, as he stood up, wobbling for a brief moment.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

Orson hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, "No, you can stay out here."

She nodded even when the words slightly stung. There was a time in which she'd have gone with him, even without his permission, but they no longer shared that trust. Thea didn't know if they ever would again.

She turned back to her phone, pretending to look busy to avoid glancing at Orson's retreating figure. Her screen lit up as a text came in from her brother.

Rashad: Did he make it to his appointment.

She typed back, he isn't five years old—and yes.

Rashad: He refused to see the medical specialists in London, so yes, I thought he was going to run away.

Maybe he needed time to come to terms with his injury.

Rashad: Well, how could he do that if he doesn't even want to know the proper diagnosis.

Thea sighed; her brother had a fair point.

Rashad: How has he been? Did you sort whatever was going on between the two of you? Hopefully he hasn't been shitty like he was to Lina.

Thea laughed quietly. Oh, Orson had been quiet the handful, but she also knew him like the back of her hand—well the old him, she reminded herself once again.

She replied: He's been his usually cheery self.

Rashad: I can't tell if you're being sarcastic...