Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2)

by Stella Starling

  “We’re here,” Rachel-Lyn whispered, her steps slowing. “Amanda’s in the room, and I’m going to go find Mam.”

  Micah opened his eyes and pushed open the door. Amanda jumped to her feet the moment he entered, rattling off a string of medical jargon that was no doubt meant to reassure—or at least inform—him. The words were too much, though. They didn’t make sense, no more so than the presence of the other woman in the room.

  The one, Micah assumed, who’d claimed to be Zach’s girlfriend.

  Whoever she was, she’d planted herself in a chair that was scooted right up to the edge of Zach’s hospital bed, and she was clutching his too-limp hand with both of hers. When Micah walked in, her eyes darted back and forth between him and Amanda before settling on Micah.

  “Who are you?” she snapped. It sounded less like a question than like an accusation.

  Micah ignored her.

  Not really on purpose, but her question didn’t really register, not any more than Amanda’s medical update had. His gaze skittered over the woman and dismissed her, seeking out Zach instead. Zach, who lay on the hospital bed looking just like he always did—strong and sort of beautiful and like everything Micah wanted… but also too pale.

  Too still.

  There was an ugly discoloration along the side of his face that hurt to see, and Micah covered it gently with one hand, trying not to cry again.

  “Will he be okay, Amanda?”

  “Nothing is broken, musje, but Mam is concerned that he hasn’t woken up yet.” She walked over and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “That could just be from the drink, though.”

  Micah could smell it on him.

  “He put away most of a bottle of Stagg,” the other woman said. “It would have been worse, though, if I hadn’t been there.”

  And then Micah did pay attention to her. His eyes locked onto her, but she was just a shape. A body. Pretty, maybe, but a bit bedraggled-looking, like maybe she’d had a surfing accident, too, even though she wasn’t dressed for it.

  Micah couldn’t make sense of her facial expression, but he could hear all sorts of things in her voice. She sounded defensive. A bit smug. There was a hint of bitterness… and maybe she was even a little bit afraid, too.

  For Zach?

  Micah couldn’t tell.

  The way she was holding onto him seemed more possessive than comforting, and even though Micah still had no idea who she was, he knew for sure he didn’t like the way she talked about Zach. Not any more than he liked the way she was touching him.

  “You were with Zach tonight, and you let this happen to him?” Micah asked her, anger welling up inside him as he let his fingers flutter over Zach’s face. The shape of it was achingly familiar, but the stillness felt foreign.

  Micah wanted Zach’s dimples back.

  He wanted to feel the subtle shifts of muscle and emotion and life that he was used to finding under his hands, the ones that he still found more reliable than anything his eyes could tell him. They would have reassured him that Zach would really be okay, but instead, his face stayed motionless, slack under Micah’s fingers.

  “Don’t try to pin this on me,” the woman snapped back at him, her voice rising with every word. “I was the one who brought him in. I told him it was stupid to surf after he’d had so much to drink, and I was the one who pulled him out of the water when he didn’t listen to me.” She glared, her gaze darting between Micah and Amanda. “Zach would’ve died if I hadn’t been there, so you can both start treating me a little nicer, okay? He owes me.”

  Micah froze, his hand going still as it rested against Zach’s jaw.

  Zach would have died?

  Zach’s breath was warm and shallow against Micah’s wrist, and the idea that it might have stopped altogether—and that this woman who was acting so proprietary toward him didn’t seem utterly devastated by that fact—awoke something hot and ugly inside him. It rose up so fast and furiously that Micah almost didn’t recognize himself, and it burst out of his mouth before he could stop it.

  “You don’t even care. This isn’t about you. Look at him! How could you let him hurt himself like this? Who are you?”

  “This isn’t my fault,” she snapped, pushing to her feet abruptly and putting her hands on her hips as she glared from the other side of the bed. “I’m Janis, his girlfriend. Zach and I dated for two years—”

  “You’re not his girlfriend,” Micah interrupted.

  Dated.

  Past tense.

  “Musje,” Amanda said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to believe in Zach, but—”

  “She’s not, Amanda,” Micah said. “Even if she was, once, look at how she’s acting. She doesn’t even care about him.”

  He didn’t care what Janis said. Micah knew. And yes, he could see that she was holding Zach’s hand like she had a right to, but Micah trusted what his more reliable senses were telling him. Her voice was cold and unfeeling. Defensive, rather than worried. Angry, rather than anxious. If she did care about Zach, she was definitely hiding it under a whole host of shallower emotions, but Micah wasn’t feeling generous enough to look that deeply. Not when she’d let Zach get hurt like this.

  “You don’t know me,” Janis said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You don’t get to say how I feel. Zach needed someone tonight, and guess who was there for him? He turned to me, so I don’t know who you are, but—”

  “I’m his boyfriend,” Micah said, cutting her off. He found Zach’s limp hand and laced their fingers together, Janis’s hateful words twisting him up inside. He’d let Zach down. He wouldn’t do it again, though. If Zach still wanted him, Micah would be there. “I love him.”

  Janis stared hard at him for a minute, then she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, like she was heading into battle.

  “Love him all you want,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know Zach thinks he’s bisexual, but trust me, in the long run, he’s going to want more than you can give him.”

  Zach’s fingers twitched in Micah’s hand, distracting Micah from responding to that idiotic statement.

  His sister, on the other hand, wasn’t distracted at all.

  “You bitch,” she said, bearing down on Janis like an angry mama bear. “You—”

  “Amanda,” Tanja scolded, cutting her off. She’d entered the small room with Rachel-Lyn on her heels, just in time to hear.

  “What, Mam?” Amanda snapped, stopping in her tracks and putting her hands on her hips with an angry scowl. “Even if Zach was cheating on our musje, no one gets to speak to Micah like—”

  “He wasn’t cheating on me,” Micah said firmly, speaking over his sister.

  Zach had obviously had too much to drink, and yes, Micah had known there was something wrong earlier. But cheating? With someone as horrible as Janis? There was no universe in which that made any sense. Not Zach, who filled Micah’s heart with all sorts of things he didn’t have a name for. Things that were love, but that were more than that, too, in the same way that Zach’s eyes were more than just blue.

  Not Zach… whose fingers had gone limp again, scaring Micah. He had to be okay. Had Micah just imagined the twitch?

  “Zach and I have been taking a little break from each other, but don’t get your hopes up,” Janis said, raking her eyes over Micah. “Zach likes taking care of people, and I’m sure that can feel like love, but what he really wants is the family he never had. He may enjoy fucking you for now, but you’ll never be able to offer him what I can.”

  Micah’s hand tightened around Zach’s, willing him to move again. To wake up.

  And… really? Janis thought now was the time to get into some sort of pissing match over Zach?

  Before he could even think about how to respond to her smug, hateful words, the three M’s did it for him, all speaking at once.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Zach is lucky to be with our musje—”

/>   “Don’t speak to my son like that, you kutwijf. You’re a—”

  “Stop it,” Micah snapped, cutting them all off. Zach had squeezed his hand this time. For sure. “Mam, I think he’s waking up. I felt him move.”

  Tanja and Amanda instantly switched into doctor-mode, nudging Micah out of the way as they started throwing rapid-fire medical terms at each other and checking the machines Zach was hooked up to. On the far side of the bed, Janis grabbed for Zach’s other hand, holding it to her ample chest as she looked down at Zach anxiously.

  Zach opened his eyes, and Janis leaned in, cooing at him with a show of concern that grated on Micah’s nerves like nails on chalkboard.

  Zach’s brow crinkled. “Janis?” he asked, his voice raspy and confused-sounding. He blinked at her groggily. “What are you…?”

  Fat tears started spilling out of Janis’s eyes, and she lifted Zach’s hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek.

  “Baby, don’t you remember? You asked me to meet you at the beach tonight. You were telling me about your father.”

  Her words made Zach’s face crumple, and Micah’s patience snapped. He was around the other side of the bed before he realized he’d even intended to move.

  “Stop touching him.” Micah took Zach’s hand back from her and wedged himself between Janis and the hospital bed, his voice rising with every word. “Stop talking to him. Stop being so damn nasty and insincere. You don’t care about him, and you don’t deserve him, and you’re upsetting him. You need to get away from him right now, Janis, or else, so help me God, I’m—”

  “Micah?” Zach’s voice cut through Micah’s outrage, sounding slurred and weak. And then, a little stronger, “Micah.”

  Micah turned to face him, forgetting about Janis completely when Zach’s hand squeezed his, on purpose this time.

  “Hey,” Micah said, his free hand finding its favorite place to rest against Zach’s jaw. He smiled down at his boyfriend, letting his fingers play over the familiar planes of Zach’s face… over his cheeks… his lips… finding the slightest hint of what might have been a smile there. Tears welled up in Micah’s eyes, but he didn’t have a free hand to wipe them away, so he ignored them. “Are you okay, Zach?”

  Zach was smiling now, Micah was sure of it, but his eyes were already drifting closed again, and even though he squeezed Micah’s hand again, he didn’t answer.

  “Of course he’s not okay,” Janis snapped from behind Micah. “His father just died.”

  “What?” Micah gasped, the words knocking the wind out of him. Poor Zach. But Zach’s hand had gone slack, and he didn’t react to Janis’s unfeeling statement. Micah was pretty sure he’d lost consciousness again, and his heart hurt all over again for him.

  Tanja made a small, strangled sound of distress at the news, staring across the hospital bed at Janis. “Zach’s father died?” she repeated, going pale. She rested a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Tonight?”

  Before Janis could offer any more information, Rachel-Lyn was there, swooping down on her like a force of nature.

  “You need to get out,” Rachel-Lyn said, taking Janis by the arm. “Visiting hours are over.”

  “What? You can’t tell me to leave.” Janis huffed. She jerked her thumb in Micah’s direction. “What about him?”

  “He’s family.”

  “Boyfriends don’t count as family.”

  “Micah is my family, and Zach was at my wedding, in our family photos,” Rachel-Lyn said, hustling her toward the door without any concern for logic. “But you? You aren’t welcome here.”

  Janis dug in her heels, shaking off Rachel-Lyn’s hold.

  “I think that’s for Zach to decide,” she said belligerently. “We have history together, and he turned to me tonight, not to his boyfriend.”

  Micah’s stomach clenched at that—it was true—but Zach’s hand was still slack in his, and Zach didn’t have anything to say on the matter, either way.

  “Nee,” Tanja said to Janis firmly. No. She came around the bed and held open the door. “It is for me to decide, Janis. I am Zach’s doctor, and whatever your history is with him, it doesn’t make up for your lack of compassion. My daughter is right. It’s time for you to leave.”

  Tanja sounded more tired than angry, but she used her doctor voice—firm and not to be questioned—and with a last huff, Janis flounced out. The room felt calmer the minute she was gone, but Micah still didn’t like how motionless Zach was. Too still, not like sleep, and what he must be feeling… even though Micah had lost his father, too, it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t imagine.

  “Zach’s vitals look all right, Micah,” Amanda whispered, coming around to hug him from behind again. “He hit his head, but I really do think it’s just the drink keeping him under right now, probably mixed with exhaustion. Do you want me to stay here with you, musje?”

  “No,” Micah said, claiming the seat Janis had been using. “You should go home, Amanda. I know you had a long shift. Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

  “I should be done with my shift in two hours,” Tanja said, resting a hand on Micah’s shoulder. “If you’re staying, I can give you a ride home then, Micah.”

  He gave his mother a noncommittal shrug. He wasn’t leaving until Zach did, but he didn’t have the energy to argue about it at the moment. He’d be able to find his own ride when the time came, and he’d get Zach home, too.

  He may not have been there for Zach earlier, but he would be now.

  “It’s the middle of the night, Micah,” Rachel-Lyn said, running a hand through his hair as she came to stand on his other side. “Maybe you should let me take you home now. Get some sleep, now that you’ve seen him. You know Mam will make sure he’s taken good care of.”

  “No,” Micah said, putting up a hand to stop them when they each opened their mouths to argue some more. “I’m going to take care of him. Or at least, I’m going to be here, okay? I’m not leaving, so just… stop.”

  He half-expected them to keep pushing him, but for the first time he could remember—ever—the three M’s actually listened.

  It was kind of refreshing, and as Amanda closed the door behind the three of them, leaving him alone with Zach, a surge of optimism went through him, quelling some of his worry. Because wasn’t his family’s newfound respect for his choices just further proof of what he’d always known? Even dealing with horrible Janis had ended up bringing about something good in the end… and if that was the case, then Zach would definitely be okay, too, wouldn’t he? Zach was too good a person—and the world was too good a place—for Micah to believe anything else.

  Zach would be fine.

  They’d be fine.

  Micah was going to go ahead and trust that, because it was the only thing that made sense.

  15

  Zach

  Zach woke up feeling like shit. The kind of hangover that he knew from experience would go from bad to skull-splitting if he so much as moved an eyelid. Scratch that. His skull was already splitting, and his entire body felt like it had been sent through the tumble cycle in a clothes dryer full of rocks… or maybe beaten with sticks.

  He groaned, the sound a painful ricochet inside his own head.

  “Zach? Are you awake?”

  Micah’s whisper was almost too quiet to hear, but his voice gave Zach something to cling to that wasn’t pain. He could feel Micah’s hand in his, feel Micah’s touch on his face, stroking over his brow and calming some of the clamor.

  He forced his eyes open, the light stabbing into his brain like a dagger.

  “Hey, baby,” he rasped, his throat feeling raw. Micah looked wrecked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was worried about you,” Micah said, biting his lip as his eyes welled up with tears.

  “About me?” Zach frowned… which fucking hurt. But he was the one who took care of Micah, Micah shouldn’t be worrying about him.

  He closed his eyes again, trying to figure it out as he let Micah’s touch on his face soothe
him. Heaven. Well, okay, “heaven” was probably taking it too far, given how horrendous every single part of him felt, but at least Micah’s touch was something… good.

  Because there was also something bad, but Zach couldn’t remember what it was.

  He kind of felt like he didn’t want to.

  “You’ve been here since last night. Mam says it’s okay to take you home as soon as you can stay awake,” Micah said softly, which didn’t make sense. “But maybe you should try to sleep a little more first?”

  Here? Zach cracked his eyes open again, this time managing to look at something more than just Micah. He was in a hospital.

  That couldn’t be good.

  “What happened?” he asked, gritting his teeth as he struggled to sit up.

  Micah helped, and either Zach had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot weaker, or he hadn’t realized just how strong Micah was, because it definitely wasn’t just a courtesy.

  He leaned heavily against Micah’s shoulder once he was upright, trying not to throw up from the effort of getting that far. Damn, he hadn’t felt this bad in longer than he could remember.

  He must have really done something stupid.

  Micah hesitated. “You had a surfing accident,” he said after a moment. “Do you remember it?”

  Zach jammed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort to stop his head from pounding so damn hard, and tried.

  “No,” he said after a moment. He did remember going to the beach, though. And he’d brought that bottle of Stagg with him. But then… nothing.

  He didn’t remember surfing. But—

  Shit shit shit shit.

  All of a sudden, he did remember. His father was dead.

  “Do you want to lay back down, Zach?”

  “No,” Zach said, his voice feeling as thick as his head. The whole room felt thick. Stifling. He couldn’t handle it. “Is my truck here, baby? I need to get home.”

  “Um, I don’t think so,” Micah said, lip-nibbling again and then steadying Zach when Zach swung his legs over the bed and, somehow, managed to get to his feet. “If you really want to go, just… um, sit down for a second, Zach, okay? Let me help. I’ll get your clothes for you.”