Club Zombie 1-4

by Z. Allora

  Storm braced for the fireworks. Captain Pretty just stepped in it. Cutter didn’t let anyone tell—holy fuck!

  Without a word Cutter sat and pulled Uli into the chair next to him.

  Though the capitulation twisted a knife in Storm’s gut, at least Cut allowed someone to support him.

  Storm stared at the white sneakers stained with rivulets of blood. Jesus, he’d done a spectacular shitty job of helping. How had he been stupid enough to believe Cutter stopped his bullshit? Was Storm so arrogant he believed one conversation from him would cure Cutter? Storm had casually checked Cutter’s arms every day and saw no evidence—

  A knock at the door startled Storm out of his “would have, should have, could have” ode to Cutter.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Mayer. Who exactly—oh.” The man carrying a black leather tote looked way too young to be a doctor. He zoned in on Cutter. “What’s your name?”

  Cutter frowned and leaned away from the doctor. “Cutler Morgan, but I prefer Cutter.”

  The doctor nodded. He then turned to the others and said, “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse—”

  “No, they stay!” Cutter jumped, putting the table between him and the doctor. He reached out. “Storm?”

  The desperate tone ripped Storm apart, and he hurried and grasped Cutter’s hand. He’d be Cutter’s mouthpiece. “Doc, Cutter has had some real negative experiences with medical professionals.”

  Shit. That was an understatement. They’d let his mother die due to issues with her insurance. The doctors hesitated to give her tests that might have identified the stage of her illness when she could have been treated. Instead they waited for clearances, and she inevitably died.

  “I see.” The doctor nodded. “Cutter, I’d like to examine and clean your wounds.”

  Alex stepped in front of Cutter and faced him. “You need to remove your jeans.”

  Cutter opened his mouth to retaliate, but the stern look from Alex was enough to keep him from arguing. He dragged his feet to the padded platform the doctor had laid a paper protector on and unzipped his jeans. Damn! Storm needed to learn that technique.

  Uli gasped when Cutter kicked off his blood-soaked jeans. The black denim had hidden the amount he’d bled.

  No! Razor blades ripped at Storm’s brain the way they had torn through Cutter’s skin. “You promised me no more.”

  Cutter turned away.

  The doctor gestured for Cutter to sit on the padded platform. “Have a seat so I can take care of this for you.”

  Glaring at them, Cutter crossed his arms and stood rooted to the spot.

  Storm and Uli bobbled their heads in encouragement.

  Cutter’s frown intensified, but he didn’t move. Damn it! How were they going to—

  “Cutter, obey the doctor.” Alex’s demand seemed laced with a core of steel. He pointed to the platform.

  Cutter did as instructed.

  “Thank you.” Alex gave him a simple nod.

  How did he do that? The small smile that curled Cutter’s lips wedged itself into Storm’s mind, but he couldn’t focus on that now. Cutter’s poor legs were a mess. Storm tried to figure out where he was sliced, but the dried blood had mixed with the fresh, making it impossible to tell.

  Dr. Mayer opened his bag of magic and pulled out bottles, gauze, and other equipment that clanked against each other when he set the implements on a cloth. “Ulrich, come talk to your friend.”

  Uli sat next to Cutter, who was semireclined. “I really like that music they were playing tonight and….”

  As they chatted about club music, Storm moved and stood next to Alex. “I only checked his arms. That’s where he used to do it.”

  “He cuts?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah,” he squeaked. Fuck!

  Alex laid a hand on Storm’s shoulder. An unexpected strength poured into him.

  Storm reached up, grasped Alex’s fingers, and drank in the power and understanding radiating from the man. “I should have—”

  “You can’t control his behavior.” Alex squeezed his shoulder.

  Storm shook his head and tried to make the information burrow into his brain. Perhaps he’d accept that as the truth. “But I—”

  “He’s responsible for his own actions.” Alex’s tone brokered no room for disagreement.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Cutter, I need to give you stitches on several of these wounds.”

  “Sto-rm?” Cut’s whimper broke his name into two syllables.

  For the second time, Storm took Cut’s hand and rushed to slide behind his best friend. He pulled him back so Cutter’s head lay in his lap. “Yeah?”

  Cutter snickered, turned to the doctor, and said, “I’m ready.”

  There were three long, deep gashes in Cutter’s skin, and they definitely needed stitches. The other dozen or so were more superficial cuts. Dr. Mayer applied a cream on Cutter’s torn flesh. “This will numb the area so the stitches won’t hurt as much. Tell me, how did you come to get these injuries?”

  “Storm?” Cutter glanced at him with soulful brown eyes, begging for rescue. He snuggled into Storm silently, asking to be kept safe.

  Storm melted. He inhaled and exhaled to allow himself enough time to search for the right words. “Doc, he sliced himself.”

  “I see.” The doctor nodded. “You cut?”

  Cutter nodded. A tear trickled from the corner of his eye.

  “You can’t continue this high-risk behavior. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Any more and I’d be transporting you to a hospital. This can lead to—”

  “I know,” Cutter grumbled.

  The doctor studied Cutter and asked, “Do you want to stop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s a clinic—”

  “I can’t afford a clinic,” Cutter interrupted with his reality.

  The doc raised an eyebrow and continued, “This clinic will treat you for free.” He sewed together the worst slash on Cutter’s upper thigh.

  “Thank you, Dr. Mayer,” Uli said.

  “I’ll pull the strings, but you have to want it.” The doc assessed him and then started sewing the next laceration.

  The long pause itched the inside of Storm’s brain, making him want to command Cutter to want it.

  “I don’t—”

  Alex cleared his throat.

  Cutter frowned but said, “Thank you. I want the help.”

  Storm released the breath he’d been holding. Cut’s gaze scanned each of them and finally landed back on Storm. “I want help. I do.”

  “Halle-fucking-lu-jah!” The doc gave Storm a stern look over his glasses. “Sorry, Doc.”

  Dr. Mayer gave him a nod, then refocused on sewing the cuts on Cutter’s other thigh. “It’s a ten-week program, and it’s in Florida.”

  Cutter flinched. “What? I can’t go to Florida!”

  “It’s in Orlando,” the doc said, like the destination would make the difference.

  “I’m supposed to go with Storm when he goes to school in California,” Cutter shouted.

  Storm and Cutter had it all worked out. Storm had convinced his father to pay for an apartment off campus. He sold the idea as he’d be away from the partying, but the real draw was he and Cutter would live together. His father would never find out because he wouldn’t care enough to visit. If hell froze over and his dear old dad showed up, they would say Cutter was just visiting.

  Uli gasped.

  Shit! Apparently, Cutter hadn’t shared that tidbit?

  “I didn’t know how to tell you, but we’ll be back on his breaks.” Cutter’s justification sounded thin even to Storm’s ears.

  Alex grabbed Ulrich’s hand and squeezed.

  Cutter stared at Storm. “I can’t do this.” Alone didn’t have to be said out loud.

  Snap decisions and words fell out of Storm’s mouth. “I’ll put off school for the semester.”

  “Your parents will never let you do that,” Cutter pointed out the obvious.

  �
�They will if I agree to intern for my asinine uncle. His main office is in Orlando.” Storm hoped he’d kept out of his voice what working at the jackass’s law firm would cost him.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s done. Dr. Mayer, give us the information.”

  By hour two of his father’s scream fest, the man was in full swing. He eyed Storm as he stalked around the study waving his arms. The volumes of books lining the walls of the McGrath family library didn’t absorb much of his yelling.

  Every time he stomped past, Storm tried not to flinch. The fucker stopped smacking him around a couple of years ago when Storm got five inches on him, but the extra height didn’t prevent the desire to cower and duck whenever the guy stepped into punching range.

  “You think Stanford is going to hold your spot? Jesus, your birth certificate should be an apology from the condom company. You think just because you finally realized how foolish you were not to have interned this summer that I’ll pull strings and they’ll hold your place?”

  With the McGrath name, Storm was sure of it. However, he couldn’t call his dad’s bluff, so without gagging, he lied for the hundredth time. “Dad, you were right. I should’ve listened.”

  “I’m always right! But you’re too stupid to remember that.” A mist of spittle sprayed from his father’s mouth as he spat his venomous words.

  “I placed out of all the intro courses so I can make up the work with one extra class for the next three semesters.” Storm tried for logic.

  “Ethan McGrath! Don’t try to take credit. That was my doing!”

  God, he hated that name. Ethan McGrath, Junior sounded like some stuffy old man with most of his life behind him. No, he wasn’t Ethan. He was Storm, but right now he’d be whoever the hell he needed to be, do or say anything to be able to stay with Cutter so he could ensure he got much-needed help.

  “Why can’t you be more like your brother Erick?”

  There it was. His father began singing his favorite song of Storm’s incompetence and his brother’s perfection.

  “I’m trying to be, Dad. I’m trying. Let me do this internship.”

  “Even if you tried twice as hard you’d still be stupid! At least the internship with your uncle will get you away from your bum friend, Cutler. Find some friends who didn’t crawl out of the gutter!” His father paused in his rant. “Your uncle said he’s got some pretty interns working.…”

  Storm’s heart clenched as he was reminded of the impossibility of having anything real with Cutter. Fuck! He’d say anything to get Cutter help. “See, it’s a win-win.”

  “You’re there to work!” His father’s eyes lit, he licked his dry lips, and chuckled. “Chase pussy on your own time.”

  “I will, Dad. I will.” Storm held his breath. Was this happening? “So I can go?”

  His father rolled his eyes. “I’ll make the calls.”

  Fuck yes! “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

  6

  One Kiss Could Never be Enough

  What the hell is wrong with me? The question circled through Uli’s head as he wandered the expansive grounds of the Club Zombie estate. Cutter was his mate, and he’d be back from rehab soon. Why did Uli still have such intense feelings for Alex? They were just friends. It had been a month and a half since those two desperate kisses. Ulrich shouldn’t still crave the taste of Alex’s lips, but he did.

  He’d known Alex for over two years now. Alex was terrific. Of course, when Uli had first met his shy roommate, he’d almost swallowed his tongue. He’d never seen such beauty in a man. Alex rocked the androgynous look, and it turned Ulrich inside out.

  Most wrote the quiet guy off as a pretty face. Those people were idiots. Alex was smart but not a show-off. He was kind, patient, and never laughed when Uli made linguistic errors. Alex’s innocence made Uli want to protect him from others who didn’t appreciate him as a person.

  Uli stared at the pond as the male ducks chased interlopers from their mates. Sometimes that’s what he felt like. Everyone seemed to be after Alex for selfish reasons. No one seemed to look past his model-like appearance. They became obsessed with his long dark blond hair and classical features, which were on the feminine side, and never got to his infinitely sweet, innocent soul. Ulrich loved Alex… Alex’s soul.

  Alex wasn’t his mate!

  Shit, Uli was a monster. Cutter Morgan was his mate—he was positive, though they hadn’t even kissed. Some might say they weren’t even boyfriends yet. Cutter had left for treatment immediately after they’d found out he needed help. Cell phones were against the facility’s rules, so he and Cutter hadn’t talked in weeks.

  Ulrich would grow to love Cutter as much as…. Dammit! He couldn’t stop the abyss of loss threatening to swallow him at not being Alex’s mate. Why the hell had he asked for that kiss in the first place? A kiss! And why was he longing for more?

  Alex was the best friend Uli ever had, even closer than his cousin, Kai. Uli told Alex things he dared not tell anyone else. They had a ton in common. Both enjoyed horror movies, older video games, and the same alternative rock bands. Alex understood him completely, and they had this undeniable connection… of friendship.

  Maybe they were kindred spirits since they were both raised in abusive households. Back in Germany, Ulrich’s father drank and mistreated him. After the Club Zombie estate’s owners, Beau and Lafayette, retrieved Kai from their tiny town, Uli’s father became physically violent too. Pushes and shoves escalated into smacks and punches. Following the last bout of abuse, the zombies swooped in and relocated Uli ahead of schedule. If those bruises were the price of freedom, he’d readily pay the fee again.

  Poor Alex had suffered much more. Uli hadn’t realize how deeply Alex’s scars ran until the morning they’d kissed. The depth of Alex’s mother’s insanity was unimaginable, and Alex didn’t have someone like Ulrich’s cousin, Kai, to counteract the negativity; he’d absorbed it. Uli’s cousin had protected him from most of his father’s abuse. Alex had no one.

  Uli yearned to heal Alex and make everything better, but it wasn’t his place.

  His heart screamed in frustration. Why couldn’t he set aside his longing for Alex? His affection bordered on disloyalty to Cutter.

  He and Cutter had shared an instant bond, and Uli had known right away they belonged together. He’d even seen their pairing with his vision. His psychic sense never led him astray.

  So his emotions perplexed him. Nothing made sense. He shouldn’t have possessive feelings toward Alex. His need for the man dragged into question everything Uli believed to be true. He needed to sort out his contradictory emotions before his whole world tipped off its axis.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh!” Kai’s familiar voice cut through the chatter in Uli’s head. He turned to stare at his cousin.

  “Sorry, cousin. Didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d seen me coming.” Kai sat.

  Feigning a lighthearted mood, Uli chirped, “Ew! I don’t want to see you coming. Gross!”

  Kai rolled his eyes and chuckled. “What’s up? Where’s Alex?”

  Am I so clingy that everyone expects me to be by Alex’s side all the time? Uli shrugged and folded his arms. He didn’t know, and it didn’t bother him… much.

  “You’re usually together. You okay?” Kai studied him.

  Uli shouldn’t take his confusion out on his cousin. “No, I’m just… I don’t know.”

  “Did Cutter or that other kid do something?” Kai’s tone implied Ulrich’s new friends were to blame.

  “No! Geez, give the guys some slack. They haven’t done anything.” Cutter was just about perfect. The one issue he did have he was working on.

  “Yeah, well maybe that Cutter kid is okay, but I don’t like his friend. What’s his name? Thunder? Raincloud?”

  “Storm.” A shot of arousal raced through Uli at saying the name out loud. Ulrich had to be the worst mate ever. He got hard for not only his best friend, but for his mate’
s best friend too. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he have a friend fetish? Was there such a thing?

  Kai made a snort of disgust. “It’s a stupid name. Storm.”

  Storm’s name sounded as sexy as the man himself. Guilt ate at Uli’s, but he defended his mate’s friend. “He’s all right once you get to know him.”

  Everyone thought Storm was an asshole, and truth be told, he acted like one, but Storm could be cool too. He was there when Cutter needed him most.

  Uli hadn’t transitioned, so he couldn’t claim Cutter as a mate—yet. It gutted him to think he wasn’t able to get Cutter the help he needed. Storm was doing an internship that allowed him to see Cutter every day.

  Kai could bitch all he liked about Storm, but the fact was Storm always stood by his friends and texted every night during or after visiting hours to update Uli and Alex. The messages were terse, but the texts tethered them together.

  “I haven’t seen them around much.” Kai pulled out a large packet of duck pellets and tossed a handful into the water. The waterfowl raced to gobble up the offering. Duck mania ensued.

  Uli held out his hand, and Kai filled his palm with the feed. He tossed his handful close to the shoreline to bring the ducks in. He laughed as the daring ones craned their necks to reach the treats. “No risk, no reward.”

  Kai tossed some food to the ducks too afraid to come to shore. “So why haven’t they been hanging around?”

  It wasn’t Uli’s place to tell people Cutter was in a mental health facility to stop his self-injurious behavior. His future mate had a right to his privacy.

  Cutter—what an inappropriate nickname! But Cut refused to answer to Cutler.

  “He’s been busy.” Uli’s vague answer allowed him to keep Cut’s privacy and avoid the lecture on the evils of cutting that Kai might deem necessary. Yeah, like Uli was at an age where he’d find scarring himself exciting or give it a try so he could fit in. But ever since he’d gotten to America his cousin had been a bit overprotective.

  Kai tossed a few more pellets into the pond.

  Hopefully Cutter was getting the help he needed to deal with the death of his mom and the financial burden it created, which was left on him. “Cutter will probably start hanging out soon.”