by Jay Hogan
My heart notched up a beat. Please let it be….
“Our charge nurse, Cameron Wano. I believe you two know each other, right?”
Yes. Thank Christ. Relief coursed through me. Cory was safe—couldn’t be safer. Something unknotted itself in my gut, and I breathed freely for the first time since Craig had called.
She smiled and tugged on my arm. “Come with me.” Not far down the corridor, she knocked softly on a door opposite the nurses’ station, then cracked it open. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said and headed back.
One step inside the room and my breath caught in my throat, the same time a desperate ache blossomed in my chest. Cam and Cory were on the floor, Cam on his side, propped on one elbow, close to but not touching Cory, who was quietly humming and rocking against the wall as Cam sang to him. Not “Dancing Queen” but… oh, for Pete’s sake, “YMCA.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive the man.
Other than his singing, the room was quiet. Cam had made a hut from two chairs and a hospital blanket, making a safe space for Cory. I’d expected to find my nephew in the throes of a major meltdown, but instead, although he was agitated for sure, he was under control and coming down. My gaze drifted to Cam. The man was a fucking magician. A magician who I wanted to kiss the living shit out of.
He looked up and smiled lazily whilst maintaining the song. He stretched out a hand and I took it, as always, unable to resist him. He rubbed circles on the inside of my wrist with his thumb, his eyes locked on mine.
I reached out with my free hand and touched Cory’s arm, frowning at the Band-Aid in the crease of his elbow. He startled at my touch, gave me a quick smile, then pulled away. It was enough. He was okay.
“Blood test to check he’s clear of anything in his system,” Cam answered my unspoken question, before returning to his ridiculous song.
Jesus Christ. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to me.
“They’ll be a while with Craig,” he sang. “Nothing you can do but wait.”
I nodded, my throat tight with fear for my brother.
“Si-i-i-it,” Cam sang.
I sat.
“Breathe,” he sang.
I breathed.
He shuffled behind me, put his back to his desk, spread his legs either side of my hips, and pulled me against him. The waft of his sweet cologne blanketed around me like warm cotton wool.
“‘YMCA’? Really?” I made a poor attempt at humour. “You just had to go there, didn’t you?”
He grinned. “Hey, it worked, right? Sit.” He shifted to a hum and kneaded my shoulders with those strong, slender fingers of his.
God, it felt so good, and then… holy crap, it hit me. I was back in Cam’s arms. And just like that I teared up. It was so damn easy to hand myself over to this man, to trust him. He no sooner laid his hands on me than every fibre of my body opened to him, and miles of walls crumbled. Walls I didn’t even know I had. And in the end the only walls I truly needed were his arms. Caged inside them, it was so clear why nothing worked without him. I was stronger this way, stronger with him. Cam wasn’t ever a risk—he was a promise.
He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck and dug his thumbs in deep. It worked like popping the latch on some secret drawer. My head dropped to my chest, my cheeks damp with emotion I couldn’t contain any longer. Ridiculous things bubbled in the back of my throat. Things I had no right to say. But it seemed that train had already left the station.
“I love you.” The whispered admission was out before I could stop it, leaving only the barest hope the man at my back hadn’t heard. His fingers hesitated enough to assure me he hadn’t missed a thing. Shit.
Hot breath pooled at my shoulder, and a shiver rippled over my skin as Cam paused in his singing. Cory twitched but remained quiet, rocking slowly to whatever music was still playing in his head.
“I love you too, Reuben. I think we’ve both been there for a while now but love isn’t the problem, is it?”
I turned to face him. “I know, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, too long to understand that. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t get my head out of my arse quicker to tell you how much you mean to me and to do what I needed to do. I want you more than anything. I want us and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. That is, if you want the same thing.”
Cam stared at me, his expression tracing a run of emotions I was too scared to give name to, though I recognised hope, fear, and yeah, still some anger in the mix as well.
I pushed on regardless. “I have no right to ask you for this, after everything I put you through, but I have to, because without you, nothing makes sense. You’re what makes me smile, you give me hope, you set me on fire, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your love—in fact I know I don’t deserve it—but I intend to change that, if you’ll let me.”
Cam’s steady gaze burned a hole straight through my heart. “You hurt me, Reuben, and I won’t let that happen again. I took a chance, hiding us, something I’d sworn never to repeat and you knew that. I can’t, I won’t agree to that again, just so we’re clear, not even for a short time. So any plan you think you have better be based on that fact.”
He couldn’t know, but I would never ask that of him again, or myself for that matter. “You can count on it. And it’s not my plan by the way, Cam. I want it to be ours.”
He raised a questioning brow just as Cory reached a hand to rest on my leg.
“Sing Rube?” Cory asked.
Cam’s gaze softened as he glanced to my nephew then back at me. “It sounds a good start, Reuben. I want that too but we need to talk more. For now though, Cory needs his uncle.” He smiled. “How about a chorus of ‘I Will Survive’?”
I snorted in disbelief. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
He spun me back around and wrapped his arms tight across my chest. “You’re talking to the man singing ‘YMCA,’ wearing guyliner, and sporting a pair of green silk knickers. Trust me, crazy is the least of your worries.”
I lifted my head and rested it back against his shoulder, laughing, as he started up with the shoulder kneading again. A minute or two later, I elbowed him gently. “So, um, can you run that bit about the green briefs past me again?” Yeah, some details stuck better than others.
HOW LONG we sat on the floor I had no idea. Long enough for Cory to crawl over and fall asleep with his head on my knee, which meant Cam could stop singing, a big plus for all concerned. We said little more to each other, I was too worried about what was happening down the hall, and Cam was obviously mindful of that. The nurse from earlier finally popped her head back in, catching me still wrapped in Cam’s arms with Cory on my lap. Her gaze moved between us for a moment before focusing on me.
“He’s stable,” she said. Then to Cam, “They’re moving him to Level Three Special Care to keep an eye on him. Michael says he’ll meet you there.”
Cam nodded. “Thanks, Jude. And thanks for keeping things quiet… about this.” He tipped his head my way, making it clear what he meant.
She grinned affectionately. “No thanks necessary, boss. It’s your business and no one else’s.” She turned to me. “But your dad’s gonna blow a gasket soon if he doesn’t get some answers. Don’t think I can hold him off much longer.”
Son of a bitch. “Tell him to come up to the ward but give us some time,” I said. “I’ll catch him there.”
“Consider it done.” And she left.
I reluctantly pulled away from Cam, and with his help, I bundled Cory into my arms still wrapped in his blanket. Luckily, he was too tired to wake, let alone protest, and with Cam’s arm around my waist, we headed upstairs. I found I could give less than a fuck if anyone saw us.
Michael was waiting for us in Craig’s room in the Special Care Unit, and I was relieved to see my brother’s colour looking way better. I settled Cory into the larger of two chairs, while Cam grabbed him a pillow from down the hall. Next thing I knew, Cam’s hand was pushing gently o
n my shoulder. “Sit,” he said.
I sat, realising I hadn’t even seen him pull the second chair my way. He pushed a glass of water into my hands. “Drink.”
I finished the glass.
Cam nodded at Michael, whose gaze then fixed on me. “Do you want your father in here for this?” Michael asked. “I understand he’s on his way up.”
“No.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll fill him in later.” Fuck him.
After a questioning glance at Cam, Michael continued, “Okay, then. Your brother had a lucky escape. If this was deliberate, then make no mistake—it was a fair attempt. He’d had a significant amount to drink, judging from his blood alcohol, but on top of that, he’d taken a large number of pills. We don’t know how many exactly, but over thirty were pumped undissolved from his stomach. Toxicology also found a mixture of OxyCodone, ecstasy, benzodiazepines, and paracetamol. There was enough going on, in addition to the alcohol, to drop his heart rate to his boots and nearly push him over.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, and Cam squeezed my hand.
Michael sighed. “Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, we got him pumped and flushed out so he’s stable for the time being, but we still need to be cautious for the next twenty-four hours or so. As soon as he’s out of the woods, he’ll go into the psych’s hands, understand? If this was suicide, he needs real help, Reuben. More help than you can give him.”
“I know.” And I did. But how the fuck that was all going to roll out, who knew? I thought of my father on his way up here and my stomach clenched. He was never gonna support Craig in any way that counted. “And Cory?”
Finally Michael smiled. “Your nephew’s fine, physically at least. His toxicology is clear. Just got a bit of a fright, I think. Is there someone who can look after him? Craig’s not going anywhere for a bit, and with everything that’s happened, they’re gonna want to check things are safe for Cory to be with him again. I’m sorry, but we can’t let this go unreported.”
My heart sank. Nothing I hadn’t expected. “Of course, I understand. And I’ll be taking Cory.” I absolutely would, but… holy crap, how the hell was I going to manage it? All I knew for sure was Cory wasn’t going anywhere except with me, not after tonight.
“I’ll help,” Cam said immediately.
My heart leaped and I reached for his hand. “Thanks.”
Michael smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort that out, then.”
Voices rose in the corridor outside Craig’s room along with the thundering crash of a metal trolley hitting the wall. We all jumped.
“What the fuck?” Michael lunged for the doorway but before he got there, my father stormed into the room, stabbing his finger accusingly my way.
“Who the hell do you think you are, saying I can’t see my son, you little shit?” His face was puce with rage, carved up in ugly lines, bulbous eyes spewing hatred. He stank of beer and sweat and every ugly thing he’d ever uttered.
And that was it. I was so done with his bullshit. “He tried to kill himself, Dad,” I shot back. “You rode him so fucking hard about the garage, about Cory, about money—about every damn thing. He was never good enough for you, neither of us was. I didn’t give a shit, but Craig—goddammit, he tried so hard to be what you wanted. Maybe he was never gonna run that garage on his own, but he damn well rocks with a bike in his hands, best in the fucking business. But that was never good enough, was it? You may as well have poured the fucking pills down his throat—and you expect me to let you see him? Fuck off.”
His eyes bulged so wide I thought he was gonna blow a stroke where he stood. “You can’t stop me seeing my son,” he raged.
Behind us, Craig groaned, and his monitor beeped furiously. Everyone’s head spun except my father’s. Moments later things settled.
“Keep your voices down,” Michael warned, checking on Craig.
“And who the fuck are you?” Dad demanded, as if registering Michael for the first time.
Michael stepped in to my father, forcing him to take a step back. “His damn doctor, that’s who. And if you don’t keep it down, you’re out of here. No second warning.”
That took the wind out of Dad’s sails, and I watched as he bit back some no doubt vicious reply. Returning his attention to me, it must have suddenly registered just how close Cam and I were standing, Cam’s hand still loosely held in mine. I’d almost forgotten it was there. But instead of dropping Cam’s hand I squeezed tighter.
My father froze, his expression souring into unadulterated disgust as he raised his eyes to mine. “What the fuck is this?” he spoke low and mean, spitting the words like venom. “You stupid little faggot. So, you’re gonna throw everything away? For what?” He threw a look of loathing Cam’s way. “For a pussy whore like this?”
I pushed Cam aside and was up in my father’s face, his shirt fisted in mine and my hand hauled back in a fist, before I even knew it. “You shut your mouth, you ignorant bastard,” I snarled right into his face. About to let fly into his jaw, my hand was grabbed from behind and held tight.
“Reuben, no.” Cam spoke softly but firmly. “Don’t give him this. Not here.”
Why not? I wanted to smash my fist into my father’s face, my mean, abusive, bigoted arsehole of a father. And he knew it. The fear took shape in his eyes as he grasped just how close he was to a reality he hadn’t truly considered. Yeah, you bastard. This stops now.
Cam leaned in, his breath warm against my neck. “I won’t stand in your way if you really want this, Rube. But this isn’t you, just so you know. And Cory needs you here, not at the police station.”
I fought against Cam’s grip a few more seconds, but he was right. This wasn’t me. And I wasn’t going to let my dickhead of a father screw with my chances of taking Cory home.
I relaxed my fist, leaned in close, and kept my voice low. “I warned you once already. The only reason you’re not on the floor now, and needing a room in the hospital yourself, is because of your grandson. Next time, I will flatten you. Do you understand me, Dad?”
I threw as much sarcasm into the undeserved title as I could, dropped his shirt, and shoved him away. But I wasn’t finished yet. I couldn’t spend another second of my life lying about what Cam meant to me. There’d been way too much of that already.
“And another thing,” I growled. “You better get used to this.” I grabbed Cam’s hand and held it in front of my father’s face. “I love this man and I fully intend to ask him into my life for as long as he’s willing to put up with me, though God knows why he should after everything I’ve put him through. And if you, or Craig, or rugby, or anyone else can’t handle that, then you can all go to hell. This man here is the only one whose opinion I give a shit about.”
My father’s face flushed scarlet with rage. “Why, you ungrateful little shit….”
“No,” I hissed, shutting him down. “You and I are done, old man. Just how done, you’re about to find out.” I dropped his shirt and shoved him away, watching his sneer grow as he realised I wasn’t going to smash him after all.
“As if I could give a fuck about you,” he spat, straightening his shirt. “Now piss off so I can see my son. And leave that brat here.”
Give me fucking strength. I balled my fists and glanced at Cory, still curled up in the chair. His eyes were wide open. Shit.
My father continued his rant, emboldened by my backing off. “That bloody kid’s the problem, not your brother. But he’s one problem easily solved. So don’t expect to be seeing either one of them for a very long time.”
Oh my God, I was so going to savour this. I took a deep breath and sent a smug grin my father’s way. “But that’s where you’ve got it all wrong, Dad. Funnily enough, I’m the one with Craig’s and Cory’s legal powers of attorney right now, meaning you get no say in this whatsoever.”
I watched with no small satisfaction as my father’s eyes sprang wide.
“Yeah, surprise, surprise. Didn’t see that one coming, did you? Craig
actually did something without your say-so. And that means, until he can speak for himself, you don’t get to see either of them unless I say so. So, and I repeat, fuck off.”
His jaw dropped, and I barely resisted the urge to fist-pump the air. He flicked a disbelieving look Michael’s way but the man simply shrugged. “What he said, Mr Taylor. So I suggest you leave before I’m obliged to call security.”
Something snapped behind my father’s eyes and he lunged at me, but Michael stepped between us and pressed his hand to my father’s chest. “Last warning, sir. Leave, or it will be the police next, not security.”
Fury warred with fear in my father’s eyes, but the latter won out and he stormed out of the room in a spray of curses.
A collective sigh blew around the bed as I felt my knees buckle. Cam scooped Cory into his arms and then wrapped me in there as well, which was the only thing stopping me sliding to the floor.
“Holy fuck, Rube,” his voice rumbled against my neck. “Warn a guy next time, huh?”
Michael smiled my way. “An arsehole your father, then?”
I nodded. “Somewhat.”
He shook his head. “Well, as I said earlier, I’ll leave you to it.” And he did.
Left alone, Cam stepped back and beamed at me. “And I thought seeing your father on the floor last time was epic. But right now, I’m prouder of what you did just then than anything you accomplished on that field tonight.” He pressed his lips to mine and my whole body sagged against him.
“Me too… I think.” And then, for what seemed the first time that night, I pulled back and took a good long look at him.
He grinned under the attention. “What?”
“Just needed a minute to take you in. I can’t believe I nearly screwed us up. I’ve missed you so damn much, in case I haven’t said.” I trailed a finger down his cheek and along the soft line of his jaw.
He snorted. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”
“And I love that colour on your eyes. Have I told you that?”
