Chapter 220
Brandon absently rubbed the ring tattoo on his wrist, a memento from his championship days. “We used to be inseparable as kids, you know. Built forts, shared secrets–I taught him to ride a bike before I even knew how myself.” He gave a hollow laugh. “Now we might as well be strangers.”
His face clouded over, comparing the hollow–eyed man at dinner with the laughing boy who once followed him everywhere. Brandon might project an image of the carefree playboy racer who didn’t take anything seriously, but beneath that was a brother who noticed when something was wrong.
“Play therapist some other time,” Irene said, nudging him toward the living room. “Your treatment starts tonight. Finish whatever you need to do, then get to the guest room.”
Adam looked up from his papers as they walked in. His fingers tightened imperceptibly on the document he was holding, and something flickered in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“What kind of treatment are you doing?” he asked, voice carefully casual though his shoulders tensed. The same neural stuff as mine?”
The real question hung unspoken between them: Will you be spending as much time with him as you do with me?
Irene met his gaze, noticing the subtle change in his posture. “Similar but simpler. Fresh injuries heal better. His nerve damage isn’t as bad as yours. Same idea but faster results.”
His jaw relaxed slightly at her answer, though he quickly looked back down at his papers.
Brandon glanced between them, hiding a knowing smile. He might be the family daredevil, but he wasn’t blind to whatever was brewing between these two.
The guest room now looked like a mini–clinic. Medical equipment lined the walls, everything perfectly arranged. Irene put on her white coat and gloves, switching to doctor mode.
Brandon sat on the bed’s edge, watching her preparations with growing horror. Three small faces peeked through the doorway, fascinated by the whole setup.
When Irene revealed the equipment with its blue lights and thin metal pieces, Brandon went pale.
“Wait, what?” he whispered, voice cracking. “That’s going in my leg? Are you sure that’s right?”
Goosebumps spread across his arms as sweat appeared on his forehead. His eyes darted to the door like he was planning an escape.
Irene kept setting up, her face serious and focused.
The triplets watched their uncle’s fear with barely hidden delight.
“Such a chicken,” Lucas whispered with a grin.
“Uncle Adam never even makes a face, Lily said proudly.
“You’ll be fine, Uncle!” Alex called out. “Mom’s the best at fixing people!*
Irene’s mouth twitched. “Want to walk again or not? Door’s right there if you’ve changed your mind.”
Henry shifted nervously nearby, catching Brandon’s panic like it was contagious.
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Chapter 220
The room grew darker except for the equipment lights. Irene picked the first thin metal piece, steady and confident.
“Just breathe,” she said calmly. “This is how we get you back on your feet.”
Just… one time today, right?” Brandon’s voice had jumped about te levels higher.
“We need at least ten sessions.” Irene’s matter–of–fact tone somehow made it worse. ‘Let’s see how tough you really are, hotshot.”
Brandon gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white, eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself as the metal hovered just above his trembling leg.
‘Last chance to back out,” Irene warned, her voice soft but clinical.
Brandon swallowed hard, then opened one eye. “Just do it already,”
whispered.
The electrode touched his skin.
The racing champion who’d survived a 180 mph crash without screaming let out a yelp that echoed through the entire house.
