Chapter 13 - Progress

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The morning after the kiss, the dynamic between them shifted completely.
In the therapy gym, they didn't speak of the library or the foyer. They worked with a frantic, focused energy. Sebastian was pushing himself harder than ever. The anger and adrenaline from Romano’s visit had lit a fire in his belly.
Clare hooked him up to the electrical stimulation machine, placing the pads precisely over his damaged nerve pathways.
“Turn it up,” Sebastian grunted, his hands gripping the parallel bars.
“It’s at the maximum safe threshold,” Clare warned, checking the monitor.
“Turn it up, Clare.”
She hesitated, then dialed it up a fraction. Sebastian roared as the electricity forced his muscles into a violent contraction. He locked his elbows, lifting his weight entirely onto his arms, his feet dangling uselessly.
“Try to push down with your heels,” she instructed, her hands hovering near his waist to catch him. “Send the signal from your brain, past the scar tissue. Command the leg to move.”
Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut. Veins popped on his neck. He focused every ounce of his willpower into his lower body. He pictured the muscles firing. He pictured standing over Victor Romano.
Slowly, agonizingly, his right foot flattened against the floor.
Clare gasped. “Hold it!”
He didn't just hold it. The muscle in his right thigh twitched, then locked. For three seconds, Sebastian Lombardi bore twenty percent of his own body weight on his right leg.
Then the muscle gave out, and he collapsed heavily into the wheelchair. He was gasping for air, drenched in sweat.
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Clare dropped to her knees in front of him, tears in her eyes. “You did it. You pushed weight.”
Sebastian looked at his leg, then at her. Instead of celebrating, a mask of sheer terror washed over his face.