by Hayden West
“Sir, you’re going to have to calm down or I’m going to ask you to leave.”
“Lady, if you don’t change your fucking bedside manner to my brother, I’ll toss your ass out, no asking.”
Glenn cracked his eyes open and waited as his world slowly came back into focus.
“Who do you think you are to threaten me?” she snapped, propping her hands on her hips.
Licking his overly dry lips, Glenn swallowed a few times as he ran a thankful gaze over his brother, Prince. The man stood there with the woman, a scowl drawing the thick brows together and his beard hiding a lot of his expression. No doubt he was pissed though.
“He thinks he’s one of the best damn trauma surgeons in Chicago.” His words were faint but they both heard him and turned.
Relief smoothed out Prince’s expression a bit as he strode over to him. “Thank the ever loving fuck, Glenn.” He took his hand and held it. “How do you feel?” He patted his pocket.
“Stop looking for your light, you’re not here as a doctor. I don’t think. What happened?”
Prince’s expression hardened as he glared at the nurse. “Don’t you have a doctor to get?”
She muttered something under her breath, Glenn had no doubt wasn’t profession but more than well deserved.
“You’re still an ass to nurses.”
“Only ones who deserve it and she does. Should have had you flown to my hospital.” He put the back of his hand against Glenn’s face. “You were shot, multiple times and lost to much damn blood. Fuck man, we almost lost you.”
Always trying to be the peace maker, he gave a small smile. “Guess they have at least a few decent people who work here that were able to save me.”
Prince flipped him off and plucked his chart from the holder at the foot of the bed, then read it. Still holding it in his hand, he moved to settle beside Glenn, long legs stretched out before him.
His brother turned his head and sighed. “I really would prefer you not do things like this.”
Glenn accepted the water offered and sipped until Prince pulled it away. His thirst wasn’t appeased but he kept his complaint to himself knowing Prince wouldn’t give him more.
“Wasn’t planning on this time happening, you do realize that right? I didn’t set out that morning to get attacked in my own home later that day. Why do you sound so damn angry? I got the bullets, not you.”
Prince shoved to his feet and he slammed the clipboard back into its spot with a low curse.
“Because I love you,” he snapped.
“Newsflash jackass, I love you too!”
He held up his hands and took several deep breaths when someone entered behind him.
“I think we need to keep Mr. Howard calm please. He just woke up from a coma.” Glenn and his brother turned to look at the tall black man who walked in. “I’m Dr. Joba. It’s good to see you awake, Mr. Howard.” He looked to Prince. “And you are?”
“Dr. Prince Draper.”
No disguising the arrogance in his tone. Glenn closed his eyes, more than used to his sibling’s posturing. He groaned as the poking and prodding begin. After it finished, he fell back asleep only to wake later to a new sound.
Fear spiked before he calmed himself. Cracking open his eyes, he found Chris sitting there, head buried in a culinary magazine.”
“How are you holding up?” he asked, words still a bit rusty and graveled.
Chris jumped, the magazine sliding to the floor. His wide eyes dashed about before landing back on him.
“Me? I’m fine. I’m not the one who was shot.” He moved closer, bending to put the glossy book beside him. “Can I get you anything? Everyone is here except for Aarne and Brix.”
He understood their inability to be there. But not Tate’s.
“Where’s Tate?”
Chris shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since I call him when you got shot.” A slight smile showed off his crooked teeth. “He came bursting in like an avenging angel, gun drawn…”
Glenn closed his eyes again as Chris droned on about how Tate had come to his rescue. If the man had been like that then, where was he now? Why wasn’t he here?
Sadness filled him as he sought for a more comfortable position only to fail miserably. There was a light touch on his head and he once more opened his eyes to find three of his brothers and Chris there. Valentino the nearest to him.
They spoke softly but this was the comfort he’d needed. Secure with most of his family around, he allowed his exhaustion to win.
Two days passed and he never once saw Tate or a sign he had been there. Not other than a bouquet of flowers and balloons from SWAT as a whole.
Irritation began to settle in and he was itching for a fight. Specifically, with Tate.
“Chris?”
The young man was there the entire time regardless of the hour. like the silent wraith he had become, he soon stood beside the bed.
“What can I get for you?”
“Mrs. Lance?”
“She’s fine,” he said, tucking the blanket around him a bit more. “Asking about you. We told her not to come until we were sure the danger had passed.”
“You’ve not left my side, Chris. I can’t thank you for that. You’re more than welcome to stay until you figure out if you do truly want to go back to Texas or wherever.” He shifted on the bed, wanting to be back home with his own things. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Name it.” The response came without a shred of hesitation.
“Get him here.” There was a bite to his tone and he knew that Chris picked up on it.
“I’ll do my best. Rest, I’ll make a call and let you know.”
He settled a bit. “Thank you.”
Even though he was exhausted, Glenn didn’t dare fall back asleep, he wanted to know exactly what Chris had found out. Within ten minutes the man was back at his side, perched on the edge of the bedside chair.
“I can’t reach him. I called the station and his personal cell phone. All they would tell me there was he was out. I left a message both places though.”
Fuck! He longed to put his fist through the wall. “Keep trying.”
“Of course. And don’t worry, as soon as I hear anything, I will come tell you, waking you if necessary.”
“Good.” He closed his eyes. “Put on some music for me, please.”
Chris listened and soon he dozed as his tunes played softly beside him. When Chris woke him, he noticed the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon.
Glenn struggled to a better sitting position. “What?”
“I didn’t get through to him, but one of his teammates called me back. Worthington. Said that Tate isn’t even Boston right now. Said he was out of town on business and they weren’t sure when he was coming back. I asked him about any leads on the ones who did this to you and he said no, nothing concrete but they were still working on it.”
Out of mother fucking town? Are you kidding me?
He bit his cheek so hard the sharp metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. “Thank you,” he forced the words from his lips.
“I know you wanted something different but that’s all I have right now.”
His reply was stopped by the appearance of Dr. Joba. Right on his heels was Prince, who still seemed to have reservations about how good the medical facility was in regard to treating Glenn. He had to give Dr. Joba props, the man didn’t seem all that put out by the hovering, Dr. Draper was doing.
“I’m going to take you with me for a bit,” Joba announced. “Then I will bring you back in time for some of delicious jello. I believe today is yellow, personally one of my favorites.” He sighed and delivered a pointed look to Prince. “You will not be accompanying us. Your brother is in good hands, excellent really, and before you ask how I know that, I’ll tell you. Because the hands he’s in are mine.”
*
Tate wiped the back of his hand over his brow, eradicating the sweat lingering there. The men around him
looked between each other as well as the five men who lay in various stages of unconsciousness. At least that is how it appeared to him.
The tall Native American man, who led the unit walked over to him, arm resting on the butt of the automatic rifle he held.
“You do good work. Reckless, but I hear that about all your kind from up there.”
He gave a small laugh. “I could same the same for the Special Task Force out here.” He shifted his feet to a wider stance and held the man’s sharp black gaze. “Thanks for allowing me to tag along.”
Rylan cocked an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I’d been given a choice in the matter.”
“This one’s personal.”
The man nodded. “I heard what happened to your friend and his brother.”
Nothing else had to be said. He’d flown all the way across the damn county and currently stood in warm southern California weather, sweating after they busted into some small rank ass pit of a hideout for a faction of this disgustedly well-organized hate group.
His phone buzzed moments after he turned it on. He scrolled through the missed calls, heart catching over seeing Chris’ name listed. Tate called his answering service first and got those messages, one more from Chris there that updated him on how Glenn was doing.
His heart ached, he didn’t want to be away from him, quite the opposite. However, the burning in his gut wouldn’t leave him alone. Nor would him standing in the hospital doorway to hear the man declare his love to someone else. That wasn’t what he wanted to be part of. Some shared lovers, he wasn’t like that.
Worthington’s message was next.
“Hope you’re planning on coming back. You need to get here. Glenn’s awake but he’s not getting much better. Physically, yes, but not emotionally. He needs you Tate so whatever fucking demon you’re chasing, find it, kill the fucker, and get your ass back to Boston to your man. Oh, and if you see any hot ass women who may need to relocate to somewhere that it’s actually fun to curl up to a man and share body heat, bring them along. See you soon.”
“Everything okay?”
Tate shook his head. “One of my teammates, updating me on everything. Mentioned something about bringing him a woman or two who want to curl up to a man and share body heat.”
Rylan laughed. “See, the women out here, curl up to us because they want to, not because it’s a matter of not freezing. So we know they like us and are not just avoiding death.”
“Fuck, I’d hate to see the two of you in a room.”
“Ry! They’re coming around.”
The man flicked an eyebrow up to the sky. “Let’s get some information.”
Yeah, lets.
The cold bit of Boston’s winter air yanked the air from his chest as a million ice daggers stabbed at each inch of exposed skin. Perhaps Rylan had a damn valid point about the warmer southern California weather.
Slinging his bag over his left shoulder, he left the steps and made his way down to the waiting Uber he’d called as his plane landed. With a nod at the driver he waved him back into the driver’s seat. No need for both of them to freeze.
There wasn’t any small talk, he opened the back and chucked his bag over the long seat before climbing in after it. His watch displayed the time to be a bit after one in the morning and he was wiped. All he needed was a hot shower, and a warm bed. After that, there was a formidable list he planned on dealing with.
The trip had been rough. Across the board. Anger pushed through his veins. Concentrating on remaining calm, he watched the night view of his beloved Boston go by Even with the winter weather, with the hour the amount of traffic was light and his driver made good time.
“Thanks.” Bag again on his shoulder, he climbed out and walked up to the door which swung open right as he reached it. Warmth poured out and he nearly groaned in pleasure.
“Hey.” Chris closed out the night air. Only one light shone in the front room. Not uncommon for Chris kept odd hours.
“Appreciate this,” he commented as he crouched to the floor to remove his boots.
“He’s been sleeping a bit.”
“Thanks.” In socked feet, he moved through the house like it was his own. However, when he neared the bedroom, his steps slowed. Part of him was hesitant for what he may stumble upon.
The room was swathed in darkness. The heavy breathing of Glenn filled the air, not snores, but it told him the man wasn’t sleeping well. A brief burst of satisfaction hit him with that knowledge. At least he wasn’t the only miserable ass.
Dropping his bag by the door, he pulled off his jacket and allowed that to fall as well. His shirt followed. He paused in socks and his jeans when his shins clipped the edge of the bed. He bent and touched the man sleeping there.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Took my fucking medication. Leave me alone.”
“No.”
“Tate?” Bedding shifted. His throat cleared. “What the fuck are you doing here? Especially now?”
“I’m turning on a light.” Was his only warning before he did just that.
Glenn sat there, blankets bunched around his bare chest. A chest that still bore the marks of his being shot. Tate stared at the scars, Glenn didn’t hide them.
“I asked you a question.” He gestured at Tate. “And where are your clothes?”
He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down over his hips. Even as exhausted as he was, it didn’t take much for his cock to rise to the occasion of being so close to Glenn once more.
“I don’t sleep with them. You know this.” He removed his socks and walked closer to his side of the bed. Without waiting for an invitation, he tossed back the blankets and slid in.
“Get out.”
“No. we’re going to sleep because I’m fucking exhausted, then we’re going to talk and you’re going to explain who the fuck that bearded man was that you were telling you loved in the hospital. If he shows up here to get in this bed, I’ll fucking kill him.”
Tate reached out, cupped the back of Glenn’s head and kissed him.
“That’s my brother, you jackass.”
Thank fuck. With a grunt, Tate curled his hand around his lover’s dick and stroked.
“I’m not letting you go, Glenn. If this is a problem for you, tell me in the morning.” Lying back, he clicked off the light and brought Glenn back close to him, brushing a tender kiss over his forehead.
“You didn’t come by.”
“In the morning, Glenn. In the morning. And I didn’t because I was off hunting the fucks who did this. Sleep, my love. I’m home now.”
Glenn settled his arm over his midsection and pressed his nose against his cheek. “Love you,” he murmured in the darkness.
About Hayden West
Hayden West lives in the Pacific Northwest, enjoys being outdoors, and hanging out with friends when not working on the next novella to be released.
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Other books by Hayden West
Hayden is in the process of getting some books back from Twisted E-Publishing which will be rereleased shortly. In addition to that there is a series that is contracted with Pride Publishing that will start to release next year.
Glenn is the first of the series of six books about the surviving brothers. Prince gets his story next. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed his story.
