Chapter Four

 Good Morning

I want to thank you for your support in these challenging times. They are much appreciated.

I have to warn you that the end of today's chapter may have you wanting to throw something. I was taught the goal of a chapter was to end it so the reader doesn't put the book down. To tease them to want to see what happens next. 

Obviously I do well with that concept. I almost included the first paragraph of the next chapter. Almost, but didn't. I will keep posting chapters until the end of the book or I don't have any more finished. 

Have a great week.

Stunned, Roman left the ICU. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and made his way down the hall. At the end, he stood in between a pair of comfortable sitting chairs and in front of a large window.

A vibration and high-pitched ping in his pocket indicated an incoming call.

His gaze traveled over a large parking lot below with its sea of cars and trucks. So many shapes, sizes, and colors parked between lemony yellow lines. On the edges of the giant slab of black asphalt, were ornamental trees and shrubs, all sculptured into pleasing symmetricity.

Behind him, someone cut off a cellphone’s ring. Low murmuring faded as the person moved away.

Roman observed people leaving their vehicles and rushing toward the hospital’s entrances. Others carried a suitcase or large bag while taking their time getting to their destination. Roman watched a man, carrying a plant in one hand and in the other a string attached to a glittering pink balloon, making his way toward a shiny SUV. Nothing in the man’s light steps were similar to an old man, with slumped shoulders and shuffles, dragging and slow, as he walked to his late model sedan. So many different scenarios and outcomes.

Movement on the left and across the way by the main wing of the hospital caught his attention. He watched cars, mini-vans, and SUV’s pull into the cul-de-sac in front of the main entrance of the hospital.

His gaze was drawn to the bright white of a large SUV. He watched a man, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and boots immerge from a dark sedan in front of the SUV. Roman would know that getup anywhere. Morgan had arrived.  

The glass doors of the hospital slid open and Roman recognized Tatum’s shaggy blond head as he walked out into the sunshine, pushing a wheelchair.

Morgan walked over to greet his husband, and Tatum took a quick kiss. Tatum must have said something, because Morgan turned toward the white SUV.

Roman watched as the members of his team who had been with Lee leave the SUV. After stepping out of the vehicle, Parker turned back and helped a tall man, sporting an arm wrapped in bandages and wearing a demobilizing sling.

“The circumstances aren’t the best, but for the first time in a long time, the whole team will be in one place,” Rhys observed from beside Roman.

Not quite. Roman thought of Rhys’s statement.

“Flyer isn’t back from California.” Roman continued to watch cars entering and leaving the parking lot. One would pull out of a parking space, and another would pull in. The cycle went on no matter the drama happening inside the building, or maybe because of the events inside the building.

“I just talked to him,” Rhys answered. “He and Styx are on their way from the airport. He said the airdrop was a bit sketchy. The fire had stirred up the air currents. The fire captain got on the horn and thanked Flyer for the supplies. They only have twenty-five percent of the fire contained and in that remote of an area, anything to make life easier is appreciated.”

Roman didn’t reply. He had exhausted his interest in the subject. He watched a lady park her truck, jump out, and run toward the hospital. She carried no purse and hadn’t locked the vehicle.

“I’m going to meet the guys, captain,” Rhys said. “I’ll be right back.”

Roman noted that a couple of trucks had turned into the parking lot in quick succession…

 

* * * *

Rhys Kent Beck shoved his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around Jimmy’s cell phone that he’d picked up off the hallway floor. Shit, the situation had gone from fucked up to hell in a handbasket.

Reese was fighting for his life in the ICU, Jimmy was fighting for his life on the operating table, and Roman had zoned out. Not that Rhys blamed him. Jimmy was the chink in the strong man’s armor. He could understand Roman needing to take a few minutes to process Jimmy’s collapse and the nurse’s announcement.

Turned out that the gray haired, bespectacled guy in the ICU was a Vascular Surgeon who was checking on one of his patients. He recognized Jimmy’s symptoms and the imperative need to get him to the operating room.

If the suspected tear of an abdominal aorta aneurism was the correct diagnosis, minutes could decide the either positive or negative outcome. Rhys was no medic, but what little he knew of that type of aneurism, if Jimmy made it through the surgery, there could be serious questions of quality and length of life expectancy. Damn, just damn.

Rhys hurried to find the guys. He needed to update them on the situation.

He left the elevator and spotted the group surrounding Tristen. His first glimpse of Lee had him adding another challenge to the shit storm. Lee’s pasty white and sweaty skin, and hunched shoulders screamed pain to Rhys. The man needed to be in a hospital bed, not a wheelchair.

“Hey,” Rhys said as he walked up, and received greetings back from the group.

Tatum nodded at Rhys. “I’ve been explaining Reese’s condition and Jimmy collapsing.”

“Any news on Jimmy?” Isaiah asked Rhys.

The edginess, that strangling his insides and shouted that their world was out of control, calmed when Rhys looked into Isaiah’s steady green-eyed gaze. The big man, with the teardrop tattoo at the corner of one eye, was the captain’s best friend and second in command of the team. Rhys trusted his leadership to guide the team when they needed his expertise.

  “He’s been rushed to surgery,” Rhys answered. “They think he has an abdominal aorta aneurism, and it may have torn. This is life or death stuff guys.”

“Shit,” Tatum muttered.

“Where’s the surgery waiting room in this joint.” Tristen glanced around. “Hopefully the nurses are keeping Roman up to date.”

“Roman isn’t there.” Rhys met Isaiah’s gaze and tried to convey a million messages. “He’s still up in the ICU hallway.”

“What the hell is he doing there?” Tristen bitched. “He should be with my brother.”

“Santos.” Isaiah turned toward the Latin tracker. “Take Tristen to the surgery waiting room. Tristen, call your parents. Tell them about Jimmy and have them get ready. Once he’s out of surgery and we know more, Flyer can pick them up and bring them here.”

Rhys watched Carson slip his hand into Isaiah’s. A hollow pain of loneliness settled in his chest and he wished his cowboy were here. Rhys went to pull Jimmy’s phone out of his pocket and his fingers brushed against a small familiar object. Warmth chased away the emptiness with the touch of Joe’s secret kisses. Rhys knew he’d find more of the chocolate candies his husband had no doubt stashed in various pockets and his overnight clothes bag. Man, just when he thought he couldn’t love Joe any deeper, his cowboy did something to turn Rhys’s heart into a blob of softer mush.

Rhys removed the phone and held it out. “Tristen, here’s Jimmy’s phone.”

“Thanks.” Tristen’s hand shook as he took the devise.

Tristen looked up at his husband, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Santos put an arm around Tristen’s shoulders and together they turned toward a hallway marked with a surgery sign and an arrow.

Rhys noticed that Isaiah’s gaze had turned toward the man in the wheelchair and a hovering Parker. Sweat soaked through the neck material of Lee’s shirt and his normally tanned skin had gone from pale to pasty gray.

“Can you manage to take him to the emergency department by yourself or do you want some help?” Isaiah asked Parker.

“I don’t need any emergency room. I need to be with Reese.” The slurred words and soft groan that escaped ruined Lee’s objection.

Isaiah’s dark eyebrows lowered, and a shiver rippled over Rhys’s skin. Not many people went up against the deadly weapons expert.

“You’re no good to Reese if you collapse and end up being admitted to a different part of the hospital.”

“Not going,” Lee declared.

Parker stepped behind Lee’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles. “We’re off. I’ll keep you updated.”

 Rhys held back a smile as his teammate pushed a grumbling Lee toward a corridor, marked Emergency Department. Underneath Parker’s smaller frame and quietness, lie a feisty attitude, when the long fuse of his temper had run out. Lee may as well give in. Rhys had no doubts that Parker would deliver him to Reese in better shape than he was in at the moment.

Isaiah turned to Tatum and Morgan. Tatum encircled the back of Morgan’s neck, pulled him close, and kissed the side of his face. The tech genius’s eyelids closed halfway, and a soft smile curved his lips.

Morgan had flourished over the years under his dominating husband’s brand of loving. He still had his snarky moments, but most of the time happiness had smoothed out some of his sharp edges.

“Do you have a problem going up to the ICU?” Isaiah asked.

Morgan looked at Isaiah with one eyebrow raised. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m would think the elevator or stairs work just fine.”

“Good, don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way through.” Isaiah’s tone hadn’t changed but his irritation shown through, nevertheless. “Reese needs our support.”

“Of course.”

Rhys didn’t buy Morgan’s easy agreement. Storm clouds of emotion reflected in the computer expert’s hazel colored eyes. Morgan had a history with Reese and his relationship with Lee hadn’t warmed up over last couple of years.

“Do what you need to do to get inside and visit Reese,” Isaiah ordered.

Morgan didn’t comment or wait for any more direction. Instead, he saluted Isaiah and headed toward the elevator doors.

The corner of Tatum’s mouth lifted as he watched his husband’s actions before looking at Isaiah.

“We’ll make sure Reese knows that Lee’s is on his way and that the team is here supporting him.”

“I had no doubts,” Isaiah replied, and his eyebrow raised once again. “About either of you.”

Rhys watched Tatum nod at their lethal teammate before following his husband. The next moment the heavy weight of Isaiah’s gaze settled on him.

“Go down and meet Flyer and Styx.” The corner of Isaiah’s mouth tightened. “I hate to do it. I know they want to be here, showing their support, but have them grab something to eat and go back to the plane. Tell them to camp out there and have the plane on standby.”

“Got it.”

Rhys hurried toward the elevators, glad for something to take his mind off missing a certain cowboy, his boss, the boss’s husband, Reese in the ICU, and the turbulence he sensed in his teammates that he didn’t think was going to be over for a long time to come.

 

* * * *

 

Garrett McKaly ignored the dull ache in his knees and continued to kneel on the thick exercise mat. He lifted Tolliver’s leg and with a slow, gentle motions eased the slim leg up, flexing his husband’s hip. With practiced moves, he pushed the leg toward Toliver’s chest, bending the stiff joint of his knee to a hair’s breath below comfort level.

His brave husband winced, but no groans escaped. They performed these exercises at dawn’s early hour every other day in an effort to keep Tolliver mobile. They would have, perhaps, another half hour of privacy until the members of the house awoke to start another new day.

On alternated days, Tolliver lifted weights to strengthen his arms and chest muscles, and they took a long walk. Warmth flooded him as he thought of the entourage they accumulated as most times as dogs, children and sometimes a baby may accompany them. The supposed therapeutic exercises turned into great adventures everyone loved.

“Why the smile?” Tolliver breath puffed out as Garrett again bent his leg.

“I was thinking about the life we have here.”

“Los Héroes is a special place.” In the morning’s dim light, Tolliver’s gaze danced from the plants to the pool, and to the glass ceiling of the enclosed courtyard centered in the middle of the hacienda. “It sure would suck to have to leave.”

Garrett stopped messaging Tolliver’s straining muscles and peered at his husband, not sure the direction of his line of thinking. “Why do you say that, my wee one.”

Tolliver held out his hand. A hand that a kidnapper and tormenter had dislocated and broken every finger. Garrett grabbed a bottle of warming lotion from a small bag filled with supplies and began trying to sooth the damaged joints.

“Sure, Tristen’s a drama queen, but that call to his mother was brutal.” Tolliver flipped his hand over and tugged Garrett to lie down next to him. “I thought she was going to have a heart attack when he told her that Jimmy is in surgery with a possible ruptured aneurism. Tristen sure swore up a storm when she told him that her uncle had died from one of those.” The tiny lines fanning out from Tolliver’s eyes, deepened. “According to Tristen, Jimmy is in trouble and Roman’s being a dick. I’m not sure Roman or the team would survive if Jimmy didn’t make it through the surgery. He’s the glue around here.”

“I think we should wait until we have more information before we start packing our bags,” Garrett cautioned.

Tolliver’s big blue eyes widened before the small slender man narrowed his gaze. Desire tingled in Garrett’s belly. Under his husband’s soft-spoken exterior lay a man with great insight to human nature, with a bit of fire thrown in that heated Garrett’s blood into a potent mixture of want and need.

“You know what?” Tolliver’s jaw hardened with determination. “You’re right. Everyone here has gone through mega-shit and survived. Not only survived but grown into a tight family. We may stumble but we’re not going to let what we’ve built slip away so easily.”

Tolliver’s bottom lip trembled betraying his underlying fear.

Garrett cupped his husband’s cheek. “We made it through losing Reese to the beach, we’ll get through this bump in the road. You and I, as a team, and this family as a whole are unbeatable.”

“Do you promise on your grandmother’s big left toe?”

Garrett tipped his head back and laughed at the question Tolliver always asked when he needed reassurance. His husband brought him joy as no other in the world could.

“You have my promise, my wee one.” Garrett captured Tolliver’s plump lips in a kiss and explored his mouth.

Tolliver pushed up the edge of Garrett’s shirt and stroked his fingers through the hair covering his chest and belly.

“Please,” Tolliver whispered against Garrett’s lips.

Garrett rubbed his nose against his lover’s. “What are you asking me for?”

“You,” Tolliver replied. “All of you, inside and all around. Fill me. Love me. Give me a few minutes of normal before we have to face the craziness again.”

Garrett’s cock went from zero to hello baby in three seconds flat. Not bad for a man in his fifties.

His slender, fragile husband knew Garrett’s hot spots. Tolliver’s busy hand dipped under the waistband of his pants and brushed over that sensitive hallow spot next to his hip. Tingling goosebumps rose and pre-come dripped.

Tolliver skimmed his finger over the tip of Garrett’s cockhead before pulling his hand out of Garrett’s pants and licking the wetness. The act sent blood pounding and his cock throbbed.

Garrett made short work of Tolliver’s shirt and pants. Not wasting a second of their alone time, he leaned over and sucked Tolliver’s slim cock deep into his mouth.

Tolliver arched his back and groaned. Garrett used his tongue to caress the smoothness of his wee one’s hard shaft. One long intense suck and spurts of cum coated Garrett’s tongue.

Garrett had to let go of his prize when Tolliver tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it away. Bare chested, he looked down at his soulmate.

Their gazes locked together. “I love you, my wee one.”

“I love you, too.” The corner of Tolliver’s mouth lifted.” Now, hurry up, one climax is never enough.”

“Greedy,” Garrett teased.

Tolliver chuckled, “Always.”

Garrett shed his pants while Tolliver reached for a bottle of slick, they kept in the small supply bag. Once he settled down next to Tolliver, he brushed his fingers down the sweet man’s chest, concaved belly, and over one slim thigh. Tolliver’s cock had reawakened and now bobbed, hard and needy.

“Here.” Tolliver squeezed the bottle, coating Garrett’s fingers with the clear gel. The bottle shook and sweat shown on his forehead.

Garrett made it his life’s work to see to his wee one’s needs. That Tolliver longed his loving made the giving all the more special. Time to get down to the good stuff.

Tolliver’s tight bud gave away under Garrett’s slick covered finger and his fingertip sank into his husband’s warm tightness. Garrett worked at softening the muscle guarding Garrett’s idea of paradise. It gave away and his finger slid deep.

“More.” Tolliver’s pumped his hips.

Garrett granted his husband’s wish and eased in a second finger. He watched his fingers slide in and out as he fought the overpowering need to bury his cock inside that sweet hole.

One more finger had Tolliver squeezing his muscles. “So full, damn, I’m going to come again.”

“Breathe, baby.” Garrett pulled his fingers free and coated his throbbing cock with slick before moving between Tolliver’s legs and lifting his hips. His lined up his cock and push inside. “Sweet mother of mercy.”

Tolliver gasped, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

The ride was glorious as Garrett thrusted deep, prying between the walls of Tolliver’s hole.

All sounds faded except the blood roaring in his ears. Tolliver’s legs gripped his hips, and the small man took his cock deeper. Every plunge in was exquisite and every pull out heightened the pleasure. The base of Garrett’s spine tingled, indicated his orgasm was close.

Tolliver’s cry had Garrett looking down to find his husband pumping his cock between tight fingers as pearls of white cum spurted over his hand.

Garretts’s gut tightened, and pressure built. His balls pulled up and cum barreled down the length of his cock. The explosion pulled a groan from Garrett as he bathed his husband’s hole with jet after jet of cum.

Once he finished, Garrett pulled out and collapsed next to Tolliver. He needed a moment.

A boneless Tolliver managed to bend his elbow and wave his hand in the air.

“Damn, we’re good.”

Garrett had to agree. Far off inside the hacienda he heard the faint ring of a phone. Their small snatch of alone time had ended, and it was time to face the future.