Page 22 of Resisting You


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Not until Rex was fine and everything was all over.

He pulled back, and Oz’s color had returned to normal, apart from a faint blush across his cheeks. ‘Talk soon,’ he promised. ‘I’ll text you when I’m home. And tell Rex if he needs me, we can FaceTime.’

Frey nodded, then stood there with his arms crossed until his friend was out the main doors. The moment they shut, all of his anxiety came pouring back in, and he hurried past the curtain and came to a stop at the sight of his son lying back on the bed, looking incredibly sleepy, laughing his ass off.

Renato was sitting beside his bed, doing a very poorly done ASL rendition of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” And by the look on his face, he was doing it on purpose.

‘No. Wrong,’ Rex signed with a medication-sloppy hand. ‘Star.’ He tried to do it one-handed, and Renato copied him, making Rex laugh again.

Frey’s entire body went lax, and it was a miracle he didn’t fall over. He walked a few steps closer, and Rex and Renato both looked at him. ‘Having fun?’

Rex grinned, dopey and sweet. ‘This is your husband.’

Frey almost choked on his tongue. ‘No. I don’t have a husband.’

‘Tomorrow. Marry,’ Rex signed. His eyes closed. Then his breathing evened out. He was asleep.

Frey turned to Renato. “Did you drug him more?”

Renato rolled his eyes. “He was given another dose to help with the pain. But I do need to get him prepped for the OR.”

Frey’s stomach turned in on itself. “Already? He’s eaten. He’s…there’s…”

Renato was on his feet, taking Frey by the shoulders before he was even aware that the doctor had moved. “He’s okay. It’s going to be a very quick procedure, and he’ll be out before you know it. You assist me in these all the time, remember?”

“I know, but…” He glanced over at Rex, who was breathing steadily.

“Was it a surgery that caused him to go deaf?” Renato asked.

Frey shook his head. “Medication for a heart infection. He was a newborn. He had a rough start to life. He ended up needing heart surgery after that, and he was in the PICU for so long.” His voice began to tremble. “He was so fucking small, and I was so terrified.”

Renato squeezed his shoulders, regaining his attention. “This isn’t open-heart surgery. It’s a couple pins so the break can heal without any major complications.”

Frey swallowed thickly, then nodded. When Renato stepped away, he felt a sudden urge to pull him close, which was…wild. And wrong. And yet…

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

Renato froze halfway to picking up his tablet, and he looked over his shoulder. “For what?”

Frey felt his cheeks burn. “Accusing you of calling the cops. I knew it wasn’t you. I was just…”

“Used to blaming me for everything?” Renato asked, his voice a little stiff.

Frey wanted to apologize for that, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. In spite of all this—in spite of everything—Renato was still the one fucking with him at work. This changed nothing. “I panicked,” he said.

Renato nodded and softened. “I know. And I’ll be having words with quite a few people about how this was handled.”

Frey knew that, logically, the nurses had followed the appropriate steps. They were all mandatory reporters, but the fact that they assumed Oz was responsible without even speaking to him or Rex was goddamned outrageous. And the way Oz had been handled by the police was worse.

“Is your friend okay?” Renato asked. “Oz, was it?”

Frey looked over at him, and a realization sunk in. “You tried to help him.”

Renato looked genuinely upset. “They didn’t listen to me. They threatened to arrest me if I tried to get in their way. He had no idea what was going on.”

“I told him to talk to a lawyer,” Frey said. He didn’t think Oz would. He’d been on the fringes of the Deaf community long enough to know that shit like this happened all the time, and nothing was ever done about it. And so many people were just tired of fighting a losing battle.

“If he needs a witness, give him my number,” Renato said, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a grocery store receipt. He took his pen from his lapel pocket and scribbled down a number. “Keep this. It’s my personal number. You can use it too, if you need me for anything.”

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