Switch It Up

by Sara Brookes

  Tory’s demands weren’t new, but that didn’t mean they were any less upsetting for everyone involved. He understood his sister’s desire to end her long battle with a disease that was meticulously eating away her heart cell by cell, both physically and in spirit. The wait for the final visit with the Grim Reaper for Tory Duke wasn’t going to be swift, or kind. More like a leisurely stroll down a path angled toward an end that would never come. Facing that kind of reality had to be daunting for anyone. Though she tried her best to keep her frustration at bay, some days it was all too much.

  Doors passed in a blur as he sped toward Tory’s room, ignoring the cheery calls from the nurses he normally stopped and talked to. Tory’s gaze met his as soon as he stepped through the doorway. Her cracked lips tilted at the edges as she tried to smile. “Hey, bro.”

  The room angled wildly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. Every day she looked a little closer to the end. Long ago, her brunette hair had lost its luster. The elasticity had been erased from her skin, making her appear much older than she should have.

  Seeing his terminally ill sister lying so frail in the utilitarian bed clenched his heart every single time he visited. It never got easier. Not that he’d ever expected it to. But knowing she’d asked her longtime girlfriend to end things for her meant things were starting to take a turn for the worse.

  Determined not to let her see his worry, he plastered on a smile. “I hear you’re being a cunt waffle.”

  “Tired.”

  “I know.” They all were. He made it a point to never show Tory just how much he wanted her to have the peace she desperately wanted. He ignored the overwhelming weight of judgment hanging in the stagnant air. “Mother was here earlier, wasn’t she?”

  Tory rolled her eyes. “She’s still here. Pissy as ever.”

  No doubt Tory’s request to Adelita had coincided with the visit. Enduring their mother’s wrath took a toll on Kochran even during his best days. He understood Tory’s craving for escape. To finally be free of the disease that had robbed her of a full life. Endless strings of doctor’s appointments had driven Tory down the suicide path more than a few times as a teenager, and their mother had been too wrapped up in her own life to understand what her daughter was truly going through.

  Kochran gave her a stern look. “You should have called me.”

  “She’s refusing her meds.” Adelita stepped beside Kochran, wrapping her hand around his arm for support he gladly gave. “Fought off the night nurse when he tried to force her to take them.”

  “Because she needs to take them, Adelita,” said a harsh female voice. Noelle Duke swept into the room, her face as tight as the high bun she’d swept her hair into. Her diminutive stature did nothing to diminish her presence. “The nurse is simply following my directive.”

  “Did you buy him off too, Mother?” He tamped down on the urge to seek out the nurse and throat punch him. They’d had issues with that particular man not obeying Tory’s DNR order. He’d complained to the center owner, but so far nothing had been done to reprimand the staff. Noelle’s persistence that Tory’s life be extended as far as possible, regardless of Tory’s do not resuscitate order, was astounding. “I thought we’d gotten past this. Thought we’d agree to allow Tory to make the decisions about her care.”

  “No, Kochran, you agreed. I simply allowed you to live, once again, in your delusions.” Noelle set her hand against Tory’s forehead. “Mama knows best. Isn’t that right, baby?”

  “Mommy Dearest is more like it,” Kochran muttered under his breath as he folded himself into a small chair beside the bed.

  Noelle shot him a glare. “Don’t be crass, Kochran. Not in front of your sister.” She smoothed Tory’s bed sheets, frowning. “These are the same linens that were on the bed yesterday. I swear, no one in this infernal place gives a damn about their responsibilities. Really, Victoria, I wish you’d go to the care facility in New York.”

  Despite Tory’s glare, Kochran couldn’t help himself. “You mean the facility that has your father’s name etched in stone over the front entrance?”

  “They had top-notch care. Tory would have everything she needed, including round-the-clock care, which is more than I can say for this place.”

  Tory set her hand on Noelle’s arm. “Mom, I could use some water.”

  “Of course, baby.” She swept up the pitcher and left the room.

  He didn’t unclench his jaw until the sound of her clacking heels faded away. “What do you need me to do, sweetheart?”

  “Tell Mom to fuck off.”

  Despite his emotions pinging all over the place, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Anything for you, dearest.”

  He kissed her forehead, noting the rough texture of her ashen skin. Her body was shutting down on her. Giving out one organ at a time while the one that was broken continued to beat. He knew she was hurting. Knew she wouldn’t directly tell anyone that she was. He had never been able to find the strength he needed from her assurances that everything would be all right.

  “I wish it was me,” he confessed quietly.

  “No you don’t,” Tory offered with a tight smile.

  His heart clenched as fire burned in his veins. He hadn’t meant to say it loud enough for her to hear. “I will always be here for you, sweetheart. Always.”

  Even as the words passed his lips, he knew he would never be able to fulfill the impossible promise. He’d have to sit vigil over her hospice bed to wait for the inevitable. Though it made him feel like a coward, until now he never allowed her to see how much pain he was in. How much her death was going to affect him. He treasured each moment she was still alive. Those instances were rapidly decreasing, however, and he knew he was going to have to face the truth soon.

  Much, much too soon.

  Chapter Eight

  The past week had showed Ezra that Maddy wasn’t a hobby coder. Though he didn’t understand how it was possible, she had the ability to work on twenty lines of code at once. He braced himself on her desk with one hand, watching the numbers, letters and symbols appear on the screen at a staggering rate. As if she hadn’t been fucking tempting enough—listening to her fingers fly over the keyboard made his cock so hard it was a wonder he was able to stand. If she’d known how much he longed to kiss that full bottom lip she tugged on while she concentrated, how he wanted to spend hours exploring her petite body, and how desperately he wanted to know how dirty her mind truly was, she would have bolted from the room screaming.

  “You know you guys are the best in the game, right?” She paused, looking at him expectantly.

  “Okay, I’ll bite.” He had no idea where this was going, but was interested to hear what she had to say. At least it would keep his mind off the way she looked when she worked. “Sure we are.”

  “I mean, come on.” She gestured to the screen. “You have the market cornered because no one else out there is combining kink and geek. Who would have ever thought of an online BDSM club? It’s brilliant. But it also means you’re the alpha. You want to stay that way, so you protect your investment. You lock down your encryption tight with code the average hacker can’t decrypt.”

  He’d never gotten so turned on by geek speak and been so ashamed of his reaction at the same time. She knocked him over the head harder than he expected. Made him feel all sorts of sensations he hadn’t experienced in a damn long time. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. He’d just elected to be extremely selective when it came to matters of sex and domination.

  Ezra cleansed his thoughts lest his face give away the ideas turning over in his mind. “I’m getting ready to head out for the night. Want to grab a beer at Screwdriver in Ashes Fork? Take a break cleaning up my mess for a few hours?”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m taking the red-eye to New York this evening to work on some things with Steve this weekend.” She logged out of the network and shut
down her laptop. As she leaned over to shove her computer into a bag, her shirt hung open to give him the perfect view of her cleavage. “Unless you need me for something urgent?”

  He hastily averted his gaze. “No, it’s fine. I forgot you asked for the weekend off. Have a safe trip.” It was better if they went their separate ways tonight. Safer. Too many raw emotions bubbling near the surface that he didn’t want to dump on Maddy.

  As he drove to his favorite bar, Screwdriver, he thought about how he’d refused to let anyone see when he was hurting for the longest time. The world favored strength and stoicism over compassion and tears. Let people know he was broken up inside because his wife died and his husband left, and they took pity on him. He hated pity with a passion. Then he’d seen it as the only defense against the constant barrage of questions thrown his way. Maddy, though...she was the first woman he’d wanted to show his scars to. At some point, it had become easier to let people believe he was something he wasn’t.

  Simpler.

  The powerful reminder had driven him to exchange his desk at the club for a barstool.

  Two hours passed and he’d only just finished the first round. Nursing a drink wasn’t typical for him, but he hadn’t come to the bar to drown his sorrows. Instead, he was avoiding his house. The stuffy confinement of the memories chasing him had gotten to be too much. He would have been better off finishing the bottle of tequila, but the numb of alcohol hadn’t dulled the pain then, so it certainly wouldn’t work now.

  The last thing he wanted was to look at the world filled with fuzzy edges. He also hadn’t been paying attention to his health as well as he should have—again—even though letting it get out of hand could have dire consequences. Besides, Duality was due to start their set in fifteen minutes and Ezra didn’t want to be shit-faced. There were few things in life he found himself enjoying lately, and coming to see the band his boss banged the drums for was a good way to distract him from the shitstorm his life was starting to become.

  Oz, the owner of the bar, eyed him. “You all right, man? Looking a little whiter than usual.”

  Ezra accepted the water Oz pushed his way. “Surprised you don’t have a camera strapped around your neck to take pictures.” Ezra gestured to the lead singer of the band breaking down their set. “You’ve been eyeing that one all night.”

  Oz snorted as he flipped Ezra off. The insults were a tradition between the men who had become friends shortly after Ezra had moved his office to the club. The bartender was also a popular Dom at Noble House, specializing in rough sex and total power exchanges. They’d had more than a few conversations about their shared interests whenever Ezra took up residence on a barstool. The banter kept him busy so he wouldn’t have to think about how everything he touched inevitably turned to shit.

  The thought of sitting at home made his skin crawl. So did being stuck drowning in bitter memories and soul-eating heartbreak. The memories of Nora and Kyle were always there, waiting in the rafters of his living room, the baseboards of his bedroom. Saturating the spaces around him so even thinking became a struggle.

  Fifteen minutes later, the first few notes of Duality’s opening song braced him over a dark rabbit hole. Some days were better than others. Today had been especially difficult since it was the anniversary of Nora’s death. But the heavy beat drove away the temptation to wallow. As Charlie, the lead vocalist, began to sing, Ezra closed his eyes, losing himself in the melody and the husky quality of her voice. When she hit a chord, the fine hairs on his arm lifted as the resonance moved through him.

  Demons he thought long banished rose from the shadows, wrapping around him in a suffocating embrace. He shook off the sensation, hoping the memories would go away. But as the band moved seamlessly into their next song, those cloying memories only sank their claws deeper.

  Determined not to break, Ezra focused on the visceral way Kochran pounded on the drums, his biceps flexing and bunching as the tempo of the song increased. Ezra had always thought Kochran was most at home at Noble House, wielding his whip, but he’d been wrong. Banging out an infectious cadence on his drum set was Kochran’s true home.

  A sudden surge consumed Ezra, an intense desire to pound into Kochran with the same wild, untamed enthusiasm.

  An unexpected gush of panic sped his heart rate. Sweat erupted across his brow, down the back of his neck. Inexplicable fatigue permeated his body. Muscles across his abdomen gripped with wrenching force, and the blinding need to urinate clawed at him. He gritted his teeth and clenched the bar.

  What the hell was wrong? One drink wasn’t enough to get him drunk. The noise of the bar sounded so far away, as though he was on the opposite side of a tunnel, train barreling toward him and he was tied to the tracks with unbreakable chains. He realized with a start that the music had stopped.

  “Ezra.”

  Pressure against his shoulder did nothing to ease the swamp of memories he didn’t want or need. In fact, his weakness only made them stronger.

  “Ezra, it’s Kochran. How much did you drink tonight?”

  Ah God, not you. Don’t be my rescuer.

  Ezra attempted to assure everyone he was all right, but he fumbled the words, his tongue thick and cumbersome in his mouth. He was dimly aware of moving. Of his stomach roiling as he attempted to shuffle his feet. Coolness blanketed him, the drastic temperature change a wash of water over a raging fire.

  Dazed, he struggled to fight back the inky blackness threatening to consume him.

  A face appeared through the haze, handsome with a masculine curve of jaw covered with a sprinkling of dark hair. Deep green eyes matched the grass he was spread out on. His linen shirt hung open to reveal golden skin stretched tautly over washboard abs, and a dusting of hair in a dark trail that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.

  Kyle.

  Feminine laughter sounded in Ezra’s ears, and a cloud of white appeared as Nora jumped on top of Kyle. Her cotton dress billowed around them to expose the lovely, flawless curve of her breasts as she leaned over to press her lips against Kyle’s. He cradled her, kissing her tenderly as she sank into his comforting embrace.

  They are so fucking beautiful.

  Ezra loved watching them like this. So carefree about their life. Their love. He called out, desperately wanting to be with them again. But they ignored him, rolling in the grass as though they were the only ones around for miles. Suddenly the two entwined lovers faded, then vanished.

  Don’t leave me.

  He gritted his teeth as he surfaced, pulling in a harsh breath as he involuntarily sank again. The field was gone, the sun hidden behind heavy drapes that blocked the daylight. Nora lay on the bed, her skin sallow and parchment thin. Kyle sat at her side, clutching her hand. Their earlier playfulness gone as they faced the inevitable.

  “It’s going to be all right, ladybug.”

  The reminder of Kyle’s nickname for Nora stabbed Ezra hard in the gut, clawing and tearing at his insides. He tried to suck in air that wasn’t there. Black spots danced before his eyes. A heavy weight settled on his chest, suffocating him with the force. The vision of his former lovers faded, leaving him feeling raw as though his skin had been scraped away.

  “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered.

  “Hadn’t planned on it,” a familiar voice said. “One breath at a time, all right?”

  Ezra nodded, realizing Kochran was still on the ground beside him, one strong hand cupping the back of his neck, the other on his chest as a reminder to breathe.

  But the knowledge his friend was there wasn’t enough. An awful sound saturated with fear and pain scraped his throat as he tried to suck in deep gulps of air. Still drowning in the memories of a life that he no longer had, Ezra succumbed to the darkness.

  Chapter Nine

  Kochran rubbed at his eyes. Someday they wouldn’t burn like he’d spent too much time staring at the midday
sun. The reaction had nothing to do with his allergies and everything to do with the man sleeping in his bed.

  The instant Kochran had seen Ezra stumble and fall, he’d abandoned his drum set and rushed to assist. By the time Kochran had reached Ezra, Oz was already on the phone with 911. The emergency training Kochran had had before he’d opened Noble House had kicked into gear the moment he’d seen the insulin pump taped to Ezra’s abdomen. By the time the EMTs had arrived, they’d gotten some sugar in him and had averted a crisis.

  Ezra insisted a trip to the hospital wasn’t necessary, but Kochran refused to allow Ezra to go to his house alone. The unease clawing at Kochran hadn’t decreased, so he’d sat in the chair next to the bed for the rest of the night. According to the wall clock, the sun had made its presence known hours before. This sort of vigil reminded him of sitting over Tory’s bed. Only there was nothing he could do to stop Tory’s health issues. Ezra, on the other hand, deserved a stern lecture on the value of a life where he had to monitor his blood sugar.

  Ezra stirred, tangling the sheets around his thighs. He’d sweated so profusely during the attack, Kochran had stripped him before guiding him into bed. The displaced sheet uncovered the majority of Ezra’s body, including his semi-erect dick. Kochran had seen plenty in his lifetime, but found himself staring at the sleeping man’s more than he should have. Kochran liked to watch, but knew he was violating some level of trust by sitting here. Yet he couldn’t stop. He tried to tell himself his voyeurism was strictly due to the fact he was tired. That he’d been so busy attending to everyone else, he hadn’t taken care of himself. But in reality, he knew that excuse couldn’t be further from the truth.

  With a quiet curse, Kochran rose to pull the sheet back around Ezra’s waist. Compelled by his protective instincts, he touched the back of his hand against Ezra’s forehead, pleased when he found it cool and free of perspiration.