Xerox

by Esther E. Schmidt

  Mike comes rushing out of the room, yelling for a nurse before he locks eyes with me. “He’s awake. He’s trying to pull his tube out, looks like he’s fucking choking.”

  People rush inside my little brother’s room and take over. All of us have to wait outside. I’m biting my nails when a doctor finally comes out and lets us know it’s okay for us to go in and see him. Although it’s only for a few minutes, but that’s all my mind needs.

  “Hey,” I croak, the second I see him.

  Marcus closes his eyes for a moment before his lips twitch. He can’t manage a smile, but I know he’s trying. Doesn’t matter, he’s awake and breathing on his own, and he damn well knows it’s me that’s standing here. He’s alive so I’m thankful.

  “You gave us a fucking scare, bro,” Mike rumbles, making me smack his chest. Not only for the cursing but also for the rumbling.

  “Be nice,” I warn.

  Morgan and Max close in on the other side of his bed, one grabbing his ankle, the other his shoulder.

  “Did…” Marcus rasps out his words.

  Grabbing the water from his bedside table, I bring the straw to his lips. After taking a few sips he rears his head back. My cue to place the cup back.

  He tries again. “Did you get…get…”

  “Yeah, the fucker is dead,” Mike growls. “All of them, it’s over.”

  Marcus shakes his head.

  “What? Did we miss a fucker?” Mike looks over my shoulder.

  I feel Xerox’s fingers on my hip.

  I’m guessing Xerox shakes his head because I hear Mike state, “Didn’t think so either.”

  “My…my stuff. Did you get it?” Marcus croaks.

  Xerox snorts. “No worries, man. I got ya. You get all healed up and come to my office when you’re strong enough. All the supplies you need are right there. No one is allowed in there anymore. Well, just me, if you’re okay with my company. Then I’d be happy to share my space with you, but we each take our own corner, yeah?”

  “Paint on…floor?” Marcus rasps.

  Xerox steps closer, making me lean a bit forward with him. “Floor, ceiling, walls, whatever you need, bud. Whatever you want.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Marcus smile like that.

  A nurse strolls in and starts to check the machines around him. “Okay, people. Let’s give the patient some rest.”

  “I’ll be back later, okay?” I give him a quick hug and whisper, “I love you.”

  His simple reply is, “Me too, only more.”

  Damn boy, even now he doesn’t say it with the words but finds a way around it.

  Mike, Max, and Morgan say their goodbyes. Xerox inches closer and murmurs something to him. Marcus’ whole face lights up again. I’m dying to know what he said and yet I have to let it go, because it’s clear this is something between them.

  It warms my heart to see my baby brother’s smiling face. It’s amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye. It’s a freaking gift to realize I owe most of the light in my life to Xerox. I have no clue what the future will bring. Yet I hold no fear, because with the right man beside you, a family behind you, there is nothing in life that can hold you back.

  I intend to live fully, openly, and with no restrains. And I will make damn sure the same goes for my brothers.

  ***Three Weeks Later***

  My knuckles should be raw by now. Again, I knock on the door. Yet again, I’m treated with silence. Xerox has claimed his office as a no-go zone for everybody. Well…everybody except for him and Marcus. It’s a shared workspace now. Xerox installed a new lock that opens the door with a card, like a hotel room.

  I’m not complaining. Much. I mean, my little brother is back on his feet and seems more open these days. It’s like he can let go inside this room and has someone to share his thoughts with. It’s a huge difference compared to a few weeks ago.

  Xerox does talk to me about what they’ve been doing. Not all of it, more in the lines of a project they’ve finished or started working on. Or if they bought new supplies. It’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but today I’ve been spending a few hours in the kitchen making my famous chili and Mexican brownies, among other things.

  I’ve managed to put some aside because the whole clubhouse was filled with hungry bikers that wouldn’t stop telling me ‘Oh, that smells amazing, can I have some?’. Oh, yeah, there’s not much left now.

  But it’s useless. These guys aren’t opening the door and haven’t eaten for hours. They’ve got a fridge in there so I know they have chilled water, soda, and so on…but, shit…they need to eat, right? Oh, and I’m not gonna mention that I made it special for Xerox, because he practically claimed the whole pot of chili I made the last time.

  Yes. I confess. I might have made it this time to drag them out of that room. I thought the smell would do the trick, but apparently I was wrong.

  “Then staaaaaarve.” Yes. I just screamed that.

  Dramatic much? Nope, I just love Beauty and the Beast. You know the part where Belle doesn’t wanna eat with the beast? Oh, yeah, see if I care, stay in your room then. Stalking back into the kitchen, I grab the stash I had tucked away for Xerox and Marcus and place it on the table. Quill eyes it, and seriously, is that drool dripping down his chin?

  “Is that what I think it is, Captain? You said it was all gone.” Quill doesn’t look at me, his gaze is stuck on the food like he could jump forward at any moment and snatch it away from me.

  No need, because I slide it in front of him. “All yours, Quill. Enjoy.” I pat him on the shoulder and head toward the exercise room.

  Yes. I’m in my gym clothes. I didn’t expect Xerox or Marcus to open the door, because like I mentioned…I was hoping the smell of their favorite food would draw them out. I’m just basically feeling sorry for myself, neglected and all…again, dramatic much? Nope, I got this, I only need to blow some steam. Full workout, coming up.

  I put my earbuds in and crank up some music. For a moment, I just breathe and close my eyes. Center myself, enjoying the moment of utter peace. Before I kick the shit out of this bag, and my body.

  Sweat is pouring off me when my gloved fist hits the bag for the zillionth time. My muscles are screaming at me and yet I’m not ready to stop. In this zone there is no time, no feeling, no worries. It’s the clearing of my head. It’s what I imagine Xerox and Marcus have when they are doing their thing. It brings them satisfaction. The things I do, and what they do…they aren’t the same, and yet I can relate.

  Internally I smile when I brace myself on my knees. I’ve stopped without realizing it. See? It’s a mental thing, getting my ducks in a row because life scrambles them inside my head. Suddenly I’m wrapped in loving arms I would recognize even when I’m asleep.

  Xerox’s lips are right next to my ear. “There you are. You having fun?”

  I should say ‘let me go’, both for me being sweaty and to piss him off for ditching me and my food. But I simply can’t. Spinning around, I place my forearms on his shoulders, hating the gloves on my hands, because I want to slide my palms along his scruff.

  “You came looking for me?” I croon.

  Yes. Croon. But my sexy, lustful thoughts evaporate when my nipple is being pinched. His hand falls away from between our bodies when I step back. I want to rub my boob, but I have to bring my glove to my face to rip it off with my teeth. When I throw it on the floor, the second one follows suit.

  “What was that for?” I growl as I place my palms on my hips.

  The corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s trying to hide his smile. “I found Quill licking the pot. You gave away food that was meant for me, made special for me.”

  I shrug and wave a hand in front of me. “Yeah, well…it was getting cold, would’ve been a shame to let it go to waste.”

  Oooops. The tick in his jaw is telling me I just poked a bear.

  “Turn around,” he growls. “Hands on the bench press.”

  I rear my head back. “Wh
at? Why?”

  He has a smug smile on his face. “I can lip-read, gorgeous. That tight cunt in spandex is talking to me. Would be a shame to let a perfect discussion with my dick go to waste,” is the only reply I get. One that has me bending over, bracing my hands on the bench while he rips off my pants and fills me up in one stroke.

  Epilogue

  ***Xerox***

  The last few weeks have been blissful. I’ve asked her to marry me. Well, I didn’t have much of a choice when I felt the need to make her more special than she already is. I mean, what’s a guy to do when he needs to pick up his bike…the one he calls his girl and even gave the name Gloria? Right.

  She had her fists on her hips, anger laced with jealousy shooting out of her gaze when my hand was sliding over my bike. Fucking adorable. Maci didn’t expect me to drop on one knee, offering her a simple wedding. Shit. It could have been the most expensive jewelry out there and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. Because the way she crashed into me, she didn’t even look at the ring before she was peppering my face with kisses while screaming yes over and over.

  So that’s another thing Maci needs to plan. A wedding. Besides all the other things she’s organizing and handling, since we got the new gallery up and running. Maci has fully taken on the task of organizing the new exhibitions, together with Corban, who’s more than thankful for her help.

  Yes, I said exhibitions. Her little brother finally decided it was time to share his work. First with me, later with his siblings, and in a few months, the whole world. He’s been slowly progressing from painting on a wall to painting on canvas. Learning other techniques and even asked for help and discussing things, sharing, talking, living. So you could say life is good. Or it fucking should be, once I can get my crew complete.

  “Fuck,” I curse out loud, trying to get my thoughts clear of the curses that run around in there.

  “Any news yet?” Maci’s fingers travel over my chest while I tuck my phone back in my pants.

  I give a little shake with my head, not caring if she can see it or not. I feel her body pressing against my back as her arm tightens around me.

  “Stan said there are some complications,” I muse, still somewhat stuck in my thoughts.

  I hear Maci voicing some of her own swearing on the matter before she asks, “Can’t he work some kind of lawyer magic stuff? I mean, Barlow was protecting a freaking DEA agent. Self-defense and all.”

  “If only it were that simple, yeah. He would be out already. But that fucking DEA partner, agent dipshit, claimed Barlow attacked him. The fucker is pressing assault charges.” I throw out my words in anger and run a hand through my hair.

  Maci steps away from me, taking the heat that was covering my back with her. She starts to pace the room. I’ve wrapped my mind around this and I can’t seem to find a solution. It’s all bullshit. Barlow should be here with us, instead of being in jail.

  Maci stops and looks at me. “There must be video, right? The truck, the station…when did it happen?”

  I groan in frustration. “I’ve asked the same thing. They’re stalling, taking their time to look things through, filling reports at a snail’s pace. Fuck if I know.”

  She rips out her phone, her finger sliding up and down the screen.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  Maci pins me with her gaze while her cell touches her ear. “Gonna ask if a certain DEA agent is aware of the other being a rotten asshole. Maybe she can speed things up and look into it.”

  “Tracy,” Maci addresses the DEA agent. “There’s something you should know.”

  Hope chips away some of my frustration, although there might be a chance that Tracy is already aware and can’t do shit about it. Or doesn’t care. Shit. For now, we have to keep our hopes up, or we might as well do nothing and let him rot in that jail cell. Fuck.

  This is not ‘the end’ this is a ‘see you later’

  because Wicked Throttle MC will continue in Barlow’s story.

  Be sure to check out my other books!

  Series:

  Areion Fury MC

  Broken Deeds MC

  Wicked Throttle MC

  Lost Valkyries MC

  Death by Reaper MC

  The Dudnik Circle

  Swamp Heads

  Standalone:

  Frederick

  Peacock

  Tracy Supple

  Hope you liked Tracy ;-)

  I’ll be sure to give her a nice ride in the future!

  Thanks!

  My beta team; Cathy, Neringa, Tracy, Judy, my pimp team (especially Neringa, and Whynter M Raven) and to you, as my reader, and let’s not forget my PA/editor/Bestie Christi Durbin…

  Thanks so much! You guys rock!

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