by Oakes, Tara
There isn’t a brother, past or present, that hasn’t hit it. Hell, some of us at the same time. Blue’s up at bat now, has been for the past couple of months, kinda steady.
Well, as steady as a guy like Blue can be. He still bags everything that moves, but lately it’s been the two of them doin’ it together. Kinda like a tag team ménage-a-trois.
They say there’s someone out there for everyone. Who am I to judge? If the two of them know how to get the other’s rocks off with the kinky shit they do, then more power to them.
“Nothin’ I love more than getting you all liquored up and then watching you do me, baby,” my sick as shit brother answers his girl.
“Ain’t he Prince Charming?” she asks me, choking me with her heavy perfume.
I nod and smile, raising up my glass.
“I’m gonna go to the little girl’s room, baby,” she licks Blue’s ear. “Be back in a jiffy.”
Once she’s out of earshot, wobbling away in her stripper heels and too-tight mini skirt, I ask aloud to Prince Charming, “Still tappin’ that I see.”
He laughs, taking a swig of the domestic bottle in his hand.
“What can I say, brother? I’m in love.” I nearly spray my beer at him, coughing on it. He shrugs his shoulders and leans back, before finishing his thought. “What? In love with her pussy!”
I roll my eyes. Sick fucker.
The thick wooden door opens. I can hear Blue breathe deep before he stands, taking hold of his ordered drinks to leave me.
“And speaking of… looks like yours just walked in.”
I look past him and see Charlie marching my way, full of sexy determination.
“Beat it,” I order Blue. He winks and takes off, leaving the empty bar stool for my lady to take.
She tosses her bag on the bar top, angrily. I eye it, and fight the urge to make a comment. I know she’s baiting me, looking for me to give her an excuse to go off.
“Prospect! Get my Ol’ lady a Heine.”
That was all she needed. “I’m NOT your Ol’ lady. Take the Heine and choke on it.”
I laugh. Turning to the stunned prospect.
“Squash that. Seems she’s on the rag. Give her a double shot of Jack, instead. Usually does the trick and makes her play nice for a while.”
She’s seething. Can’t help it, it fuckin’ turns me on.
“I’m not here to drink, Clink.” She waves away the shot glass as it’s offered.
Bones, the prospect serving tonight, doesn’t know what to do with it, so I take it off his hands and shoot it down the hatch.
I hiss at the burn on my lips. “Yeah? Good. I’m done drinkin’ for now. Let’s do something more productive with our time…”
I reach around and cup her ass in both hands, spreading my knees and pulling her in.
She’s gritting her teeth, hard enough for me to hear. “Get your filthy hands off me before I knee you in the balls.”
I lick my lips. “How ‘bout I take you and your pissy mood to the back rooms and use these filthy hands to make you come enough to stop acting like a bitch?”
I may be well on my way to getting drunk, but my reflexes are still sharp as a fuckin’ tack. I sense her start to move, and close my legs tight, catching her knee between my thighs before it reaches its target and does some damage.
“That’s not nice,” I drawl sarcastically.
“End this shit,” she demands. “Right here, right now, in front of all your brothers, make it official. Tell them I’m not your Ol’ lady so I can live my life in peace, without them breathing down my neck all the goddamned time!”
Her eyes are hard, resolute. She’s serious.
I release her knee. “Nope.”
She’s speechless.
“You wanna kick me in the balls? Then kick me in the balls. You wanna scream at me? Do it. Do whatever the fuck you wanna do to get this all out, baby… ‘cause that’s what you need to do. You need to get every ounce of it out, I’m losing patience. I told you the day I gave you the patch. It’s for life, or until I say so, and, baby, I ain’t NEVER saying it’s over. You did shit. I did shit. Well, get the fuck over it, ‘cause I sure as hell am. Every night you spend convinced you still hate me is one less night we get to spend fucking each other into oblivion. That the life you want to live?”
Every word I say is ringing true to her, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. I can see the anger welling in her. She picks up the emptied shot glass and tosses it full-force to the mirrored wall of multi-colored bottles behind the barkeep.
The shattering noise is sobering, with many of brothers taking notice and showing interest in my business. I hold up my hand to calm everyone down.
“Go ahead, throw some more shit. Here,” I hand her a nearby abandoned shot glass, “throw this one, too.”
She grabs the mini glass and holds it tight in her palm to get a good throwing grip when a blood curdling scream distracts everyone. Charlie drops the object and we all turn to the back of the room. The music stops.
One of the sweet butts standing closest to Blue, screams again as he holds Sable’s limp body in his arms. Her eyes are open wide, but empty looking, two thin little red streams of blood falling from her nose, one from each nostril.
~*~
CHARLIE
“Call 9-1-1!” I yell to the skinny-looking prospect behind the counter as I run to where Blue’s standing in shock with Sable’s body.
“Blue! Blue!” I have to clap hard in front of his face to snap him out of his shock. “Put her down somewhere flat. Now!”
The man finally comes back to life, sensing the urgency in my voice. He races, carrying her awkwardly, into the club’s meeting room, lying her on the carved wooden surface.
There’s an echoed thud as one of her heavy Lucite heels drops to the floor. I kick it out of the way. I can feel a small crowd gathering behind me, hear the sobbing of women, the hushing of men trying to calm them.
“Everybody out! You!” I point to Dewey. “Get me the first aid kit from the garage.”
I lean over Sable’s lifeless body, pushing my hair behind my ear as I press it on her chest to listen. No heartbeat. Fuck.
Next, I check her pupils, spreading the lids apart. They don’t change. Her lips are cold. I tilt her chin to open her airway and shout, “I need another person to do CPR, quick!”
I watch as a large pair of hands sets in place over her chest, and I recognize them. I recognize the tattoos on the wrists, the heavy golden rings on the fingers. I don’t need to look up. I need to pay attention right now.
“Ready?” I ask him.
Clink nods.
He starts the compressions and we count aloud together, pausing at just the right time for me to breathe into her mouth. We’re able to finish several sets before Dewey clumsily runs in with a white metal box. The large red cross on the front is clearly visible.
“Go through it and shout out what you find,” I’m able to direct him before my next turn at rescue breaths.
“Um… gauze, band-aids, antibiotic cream, Benadryl…” He throws every object behind him and over my shoulder as he clears out the kit. “Aspirin, Epi-pen, tweez-”
“Wait!’ I call to him just as he’s ready to toss the Epi-pen aside. “I’ll take that.”
He hands over the small plastic device as Clink continues his compressions. Both men eye me. I hold the pen-like needle and flick off the cap.
“Alcohol wipe. Dewey, is there a wipe pad in there?” I ask him.
He quickly rummages through the remaining contents of the box until he’s found some and then tears open the wrapping, holding out the small white woven pre-moistened pad for my fingertips.
I’m still not sure if what I’m about to do will even work, but it’s the only chance we’ve got right now. Clink pulls back from her and I wipe the area between her breasts, the cleavage, with the pad, even though I know infection is the least of our worries right now.
I use my fingertips to feel the
anatomy to find the exact place I need. Found it. I take a deep breath and raise my eyes to my life-saving partner.
His eyes are full of confidence in me although I’ll freely admit I have none in myself at the moment. He nods. He knows what I need to do.
I line up the tip right above the area of her heart and I can hear Blue call out not to do it. Clink has to hold him back, restrain him. I close my eyes and stab the plastic attachment, depressing the button simultaneously as I hear the clicking of the instrument engaging.
The world stops. I go deaf… either that or the room’s becomes a vacuum and loses all sound. I open my eyes and watch in slow motion as Blue calls out, in silence, as he drops to his knees.
I feel the thudding of my heartbeat ringing in my ears and use it to tell time as I wait for any sign.
It takes at least a dozen heartbeats but I hear a loud gasp. Sable’s mouth falls open and she breathes deep, sucking in the air she needs. I roll her over to her side and hold her as she violently coughs between breaths with a foul mess coming up from her stomach.
It worked. Holy shit, it worked!
The chatter, tears of joy and relief of the room is interrupted by the piercing sirens of an ambulance. I step back, unable to speak as EMT workers push through the crowd beginning their work on the patient.
I’m nearly pressed up against the back wall, using it to support me so I don’t fall. The adrenaline is beginning to fade as Sable’s secured to the gurney and wheeled away.
I know I have to go with her, to give an account of what’s happened but I find I can’t control my movements. I’ve seen trauma before, having done my time in the E.R. but this is different somehow.
“Miss? Excuse me, miss?”
I turn to my right and the short-haired woman wielding a clipboard.
“Ma’am? I was told you were the one to administer first aid to the patient? Do you have a moment to go over the events?”
I hear her words and in my head I’m answering, but nothing’s coming out of my mouth.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?”
I blink. Again the response is formed in my mind, but nothing’s said.
“She’ll be fine,” a deep-gruff voice that I’m familiar with chimes in. I close my eyes and let it take over. “She just needs to sit. Charlie… let’s go over to the corner and go over everything. Slowly. Step by step. Together.”
I open my eyes and nod to Clink. He takes my arm and wraps it around himself as he slides himself up against me to help support me as we walk together to the far end of the room, away from the mess of the make-shift treatment area and the nauseating stench that comes along with it.
~*~
Her pen clicking causes me to jump, startled. It’s been like this the entire twenty minutes. Every little sound, every movement makes me react, and only causes Clink to hold tighter, eyes full of concern as he watches me give answers to each question.
The ones that are hazy he’s able to help fill in for me.
“That should do it, Miss Griffiths. Just sign here for me,” she points to a signature line at the bottom of the official form. “and I’m sure the police will be in touch if they have any questions.”
I nod.
“Th-thank you.”
The woman smiles and heads off to use first response vehicle outside, to follow the earlier path of the ambulance and return to the hospital.
I swallow hard.
“I-I should go to the hospital. Check on Sable.”
Clink takes my hands in his and rubs to warm them.
“Charlie, you’re shaking. You’re cold. You’re exhausted. We can go to the hospital later. Right now, I want you to lie down for a while. You’ve been through hell tonight and I don’t think you should push it.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen this all before.”
He squints his eyes, assessing me. “You haven’t worked in the E.R. in a very long time. And when you did, it was assisting doctors not doing everything yourself, especially on someone you know so well as Sable.”
I open my mouth to argue once more and he silences me, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine, making shushing sounds.
“Come on,” he whispers, standing and taking my hands with him to follow as he leads out and down the back hallway to the second room we come to, the crash room that used to be his main living place.
The few people who remain scattered about the building are quiet, somber. Most everyone else left a while ago either to go to the hospital or to head home. The room looks like it’s been untouched, but these beds are usually used for one purpose only, so I eye Clink as he shuts the door behind me.
“Do I even want to think about getting under those sheets?”
He laughs while taking off his leather cut and placing it down gently over the back of a chair.
“Sugar, nobody’s been in that bed but me,” he explains. Once he sees that I’m not satisfied, he adds, “Alone.”
I roll my eyes, but when they settle on him again I lose my breath as he pulls his shirt over his head.
Fuck.
I haven’t seen him like this in weeks. I’ve dreamt about it, daydreamed about it, but here he is in the flesh and every inch of him looks a million times better than I remember.
I turn my back to him, “I’m still mad as hell at you.”
I can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against me, the hot moist air of his breath as he exhales near the skin of my neck. I feel my eyes roll back.
“I know. I’m still mad as hell at you, too.”
He gently pushes my hair out of the way as he lowers his lips.
“You’re alive, and I’m alive. We’re gonna be mad at each other a million more times. That’s just how it is. When you love hard, you fight hard. They go hand in hand.”
I feel his warm tongue spreading over my skin, bathing it in deep sensual kisses, melting me a little more with each one. He’s no longer satisfied with my neck, so he pulls me around to face him, holding my chin hostage in his hand to look at him.
“It’ll take some time, Sugar, but we’ll work through this. Every day, it’ll be work. But I’d rather work hard on it with you than have something easy and meaningless with someone else.”
His lips inch down agonizingly slow to meet mine but pause just as we touch.
“I asked you before, to just say yes- and that’s all you have to do… for the next two hours, at least, I’ll make you forget about everything that’s happened as I worship every inch of you to nearly make you cry. I’ll remind every inch of you to make you remember just how good we are together, and I’ll fuck every inch of you hard enough to make you regret ever even thinking about giving up on us.”
My mouth drops as I imagine just what each one of those promises entails.
“Say it, Sugar.”
I swallow hard but something still holds me back.
“I’m not asking to say yes to forgetting everything. I’m asking you to say yes to taking the first step to working through it. Say it.”
After everything that’s happened, everything I did to him, everything he’s done to me… it never occurred to me that he’d be open, that I’d be open, to working on it.
Here, though, in the dark, our bodies close and screaming out a need for each other, it seems impossible not to do just that. To try.
“Yes,” I whisper.
That’s all he needed, the one word, the one glimmer of hope that we could possibly get through all this.
His lips smash down, claiming what’s always been his. He calls it his property, I call it something else. No matter the title… it’s the same thing.
His.
The intensity of our kiss grows, with the unspoken and unrequited need that’s been building these last couple of weeks breaking to the surface to make itself known.
My hands splay over the skin of his chest, reaquainting themselves with the strong, bulging muscles that make them quiver at the touch. I feel my
stomach swirl and my insides whip around like a brewing tornado, as I bask in the wonder of his body as it does its best to possess me.
He growls deeply, and I’m instantly reminded of his strength as his hoists me up high, carrying me over to the bed settling me on his powerful hips. His mouth gets lost in my breasts, nipping, licking, gnawing, and teasing them deliciously as I hold him close.
Once I feel the bed below me stop us from advancing he carefully leans down to set me upon the mattress. I rebound slightly with the bounce from the springs. The new height difference gives me a perfect alignment and position to his body as he stands over me.
I inch forward and kiss the taut, chiseled muscles of his stomach, swirling my tongue around and around as he gasps. His hands weave themselves in the long strands of my hair and I move my affections further and further south.
I multitask and tickle my fingers down his sides, feeling the muscles contract, knowing that he’s extra sensitive in these delicate spots. Once I’ve inflicted enough sensual torment to his firm sides, I trail my fingers to work below my chin on the cold metal buckle, having him undone and exposed in record time.
I feel the velvety-soft, tip of him brush against my lips and let it fall on top of my tongue. His breathing hitches and the wide shaft before me jumps in excitement as I do my best to swallow it whole.
“Fuck!” He pushes his hips forward, assisting however he can.
I moan loudly into him as I tauntingly pull him out ever so slowly, with a hollow popping sound as I finally release him.
“Miss it, baby?” he asks, having taken hold of himself and maneuvering the head around my lips as I chase it with my tongue, wanting more.
“Give. Me.” I confirm.
He laughs. “You sure you can handle it?”
I pull back and snap my teeth loudly to emphasize the seriousness of my request.
He pushes back on my shoulders and my back lands with a soft thud.
“Oh, I’m gonna give it to you, all right, Sugar.” His hands slide up to my hips and he grabs hold of the material bunched at my waist.
“Lift,” he orders.
I raise my hips high and he pulls the leggings along with the panties down, hard.
