FOSTER BROTHERS - A MFM Menage Romance
Page 14
My Hudson is hurting…and I can’t lose him again. I just can’t.
“Missi,” Flint says softly. He tries to get his arm around me so he can get me up from the floor but I don’t want to move. “Come on.” Red helps Flint, and together they get me onto one of the cold plastic chairs. I can’t look at either of them so I bury my face in my hands.
“He didn’t want anyone to know,” Flint says softly.
I shake my head because it’s fucking stupid. How can someone want to go through something like this alone? People need love at the best of times…and at the worst, well. I know from my own life that love is the thing we crave in our darkest moments.
“Is it...?” I can’t find the words but Flint seems to know what I’m trying to ask.
“The doctors wanted to operate,” he says. “But Hudson didn’t want it.”
I look up at him, shocked. Hudson knew what was wrong with him and he refused treatment.
“He didn’t want it, Missi. When he was diagnosed, the doctors covered the treatment options with him. Operating was the only way to completely remove the tumor but there were risks.”
“There are always risks. That’s no reason not to….” I start.
“He might have never woken up from the surgery.”
I stare at my feet, hotness pricking the backs of my eyes.
“He could have been paralyzed. Or he may have woken up a completely different person with no memory of what or who he’d been before. Do you know what that would be like for a man like Hudson?”
“Okay,” I say, “but why didn’t he…”
“Missi! He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to lose the person he was. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.” Flint snaps around and faces the wall, shoulders slumping forward.
“And you didn’t argue with him. You didn’t fucking shake him until he understood that he was throwing his life away?” I’m crying as I lash out at Flint and he looks so damn wounded at my accusation that I cry some more for causing him pain.
Red hovers around the waiting room door, looking lost. I scuff my feet across the worn tiles. None of us want to look at each other.
“They’re going to operate,” Flint finally says. His shoulders are stooped like he has the weight of the world on him. I blink, confused.
“But you said he doesn’t want the operation.”
Flint shrugs. “I made the decision for him. He never got around to filing his Do Not Resuscitate paperwork. Right now, he’s unable to make his own medical decisions. I made this one for him.”
“You did that?”
“Yeah.” Flint turns back to me, his mouth tight. “If he makes it, he’s going to hate me for a little while. If he’s paralyzed, he’s going to have me killed. If he’s dead, it won’t matter.”
“Then why did you give the go ahead?”
“Because I can’t lose my brother, Missi. I know it’s not what he wants but there’s a chance he can be saved. I’m taking that chance for him and I’ll live with the consequences of my decision, no matter what they are.”
I push off the plastic chair and cross to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pushing my face into his chest. “You’ve done the right thing,” I tell him. “I’d have done the same.” He pulls me up into a tight bear hug and we stay that way until the doctor comes in and clears his throat.
The surgeon is gray-haired and distinguished looking. He’s got an air of efficiency and professionalism about him that puts me at ease immediately. There’s a stack of papers for Flint to look through and sign before the doctor sits us down and gives us the details on the operation. It’s the same thing Flint told me earlier; Hudson may be paralyzed or wake up with a different personality. Or he may not wake up at all, but if they don’t operate he’ll be in a coma indefinitely, before his body eventually gives up and ceases to function on its own. Flint nods and swallows heavily before scrawling his signature across the bottom of the page, authorizing the surgery. The doctor gives Flint his best reassuring handshake before hurrying off down the corridor to the double doors near the end.
All that’s left now is to wait.
I feel hollow; the same way I felt on the day Hudson and Flint were driven away in a different car and I was left alone with strangers.
I should have asked the doctor if I could see Hudson before the operation. I should have pressed a kiss to his lips and told him to come back to me. I should have told him to fight now, like he’s never fought for anything else in his life, because this isn’t just about him. It’s about all of us.
It’s too late now and maybe I wouldn’t have been strong enough anyway. To see him and know it might be the last time…
My throat burns as tears spill again. My River. He was my beginning. I need him in my life. This isn’t the time for his life to stop flowing.
Red clears his throat and I look up at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, his hair spiked where he’s ruffled it with worry. I go to him and wrap my arms around him too. He may not be Hudson’s real brother but he’s as good as.
“It’ll be okay, Missi,” he tells me.
“I know it will, Red. He’s strong. He’s a fighter.”
“We just need to be strong now,” Red says gently.
I draw back and smile. “We do. You’re right.”
He looks over my shoulder at where Flint is standing. “I’m gonna go and get Hudson some things,” Red says. “And a change of clothes for you.” Flint is still in his fighting gear from the match earlier. Still covered in blood. Flint steps forward and pulls Red into a rough hug. We watch Red leave and then it’s just me and Flint.
I lead him to the chairs and urge him to sit. He drops down onto the plastic, cradling his head in his hands. His shoulders are heaving. Draping my arms around him, I pull him into my lap, cradling his head. He doesn’t cry but every muscle in his body seems tight, as though it's taking all his control to hold himself together. I sweep my hands across his back, over and over, soothing him as much as I can. It doesn’t happen right away, but I can feel when he begins to relax. He sits up and places his hands on either side of my face, cupping my head gently, his thumbs moving softly over my temples. I grasp the back of his neck, tugging him toward me, and rest my forehead against his.
“It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” I ask him. He closes his eyes and pulls in a deep, ragged breath before looking at me again.
“Yeah. Hudson’s a fucking warrior, Missi. There’s nothing he can’t do.”
I nod, because it’s exactly what I need to hear. If I can believe that Hudson has a chance I can get through the next few hours without breaking.
Flint’s stomach growls, breaking the silence in the waiting room and I smile at him. Poor thing must be famished after that fight. He puts his hand over his abs, embarrassed.
“I’ll go down to the cafeteria,” I say, grateful to have something to do. “I’ll grab some coffee and some snacks. I’ll be right back, okay.”
Flint drops a kiss on my forehead before nodding and leaning back into the chair, closing his eyes. “I’ll be right here,” he drawls.
I know he won’t leave this waiting room until he knows what’s happened to Hudson.
They’re brothers and best friends, and I don’t know what Flint will do if his brother doesn’t come home.
40
FLINT
I jerk awake. Red. He’s shaking my shoulder.
“You were sleeping,” he says, dropping a big bag of stuff on the floor at my feet. I blink, the light of the room stinging my eyes. I look around the waiting room for Missi but she isn’t here.
“Where’s Missi?” Red says, reading my mind.
I look up at the clock hanging over the silent television in the corner and jump to my feet, all traces of sleep falling away. She’s been gone for ages. There’s no sign of coffee or snacks. No sign that she’s been back since she went down to the cafeteria.
“Shit, Red, I don’t think she’s been back since you left.”
Back out in the hall, Red is waiting for me, looking around. “I checked a couple of empty rooms, thought she might have went to take a nap. I asked the info nurse and she hasn’t seen her either.”
Fear is slamming my heart into my throat. She’s been afraid of something this whole time. I don’t think she would have left again, not on her own. She’s just as worried about Hudson as I am; I don’t see any reason that she’d take off without telling me.
“Let’s go.” I jog down the hallway, not stopping to wait for the elevator. Red is right on my heels as I bolt down the stairs at double time, pushing open the door to the first floor and glancing around to see if I can spot Missi. We follow the signs toward the cafeteria, winding through a maze of corridors towards the rear of the hospital. Red stops and points down one hall. “What’s that?” I take off running, skidding to a halt. There are coffee cups and muffin crumbs scattered and smashed across the floor. I stick my finger into a puddle of coffee. It’s still warm. Just then, a faint scream carries across the building. I snap around, trying to locate the direction of the sounds. Red pushes me toward a door at the far end of the building. I sprint down the hall, feet slapping against the tile, when another scream, louder this time, rips through the air. I burst through the glass doors at the end of the corridor and skid to a stop, looking around the rear parking lot.
It’s still dark and the lights are far apart; just cones of phosphorene orange cutting through the darkness. I hear the distant thud of a fist on flesh. It’s a sound I’m very familiar with and it’s coming from the most isolated corner of the lot. I turn to that direction and search in the darkness, eyes squinting. A shape comes into view, frantically sprinting towards me. I hear Missi’s voice as she screams out my name, and I’m off like a shot.
I don’t know what the fuck is happening. What the hell is she doing out here in the dark and why is she running?
My heart pounds because I can smell danger. I can feel the threat hanging in the air the same way I can feel when victory is mine in the ring. Someone has come for Missi, and she needs me.
There’s a chance I’m going to lose my brother tonight, but there is no way I’m going to lose Missi. Not while I have life in my body and fight in my soul.
I’ll kill anyone who hurts her.
41
MISSI
Pain explodes across the back of my skull. The lids burst off the paper cups of scalding coffees I had in my hand when they hit the floor, soaking my feet and legs in the hot, sugared liquid. The bag of muffins I have clutched in the other hand spills open, sending them scattering across the floor. I drop to my knees in the middle of the sodden blueberry crumbs.
I can’t get a grasp on what's happening until someone grabs a fistful of my hair from behind and hauls me to my feet. The harsh stench of cigarettes and beer overwhelms me. “I knew I’d find you, you little bitch,” my attacker growls into my ear. My stomach turns watery when I recognize the voice. Donnie.
He’s found me.
He tightens his grip on my hair and wrenches me around to face him. “Whore,” he snarls at me, yellowed teeth covered in spit. “I knew it was you the other night at the fights. I've been going back ever since, trying to find you.” I whimper, trying to step back. He towers over me, bending to laugh in my face, his breath putrid with decayed food.
“You be a good girl now, Missi. You been gone long enough. It’s time for you to come on home with me.” Donnie jerks up on my hair, lifting me several inches off the floor. I squeal, my legs kicking out, trying to connect with any area of Donnie’s body. I’m rewarded with a grunt when my foot hits his knee but he doesn’t drop me. He just tightens his grip on my hair and drags me down the hall toward the exit doors at the end.
I reach out, arms scrambling to find anything to hold on to, but the tile floors are slick under my feet and the corridor is wide. This late at night, this part of the building seems empty.
Donnie bumps me over the threshold when the automatic doors slide open, smacking my shoulder against the glass door, sending pain spiraling down my side. Streetlamps send up orange smears over the parking lot as Donnie drags me along the pavement, my feet thumping over the curb. I try to scream but my throat is paralyzed with fear. It comes out as a moan and Donnie uses his free hand to smack me around. “Quiet,” he barks. “Or I’ll snap your fucking neck.”
I try to grab onto the trunk of a tree so I can dislodge myself from his grip but he jerks me free with a bone-shaking wrench, pulling me toward a black truck parked at the end of the lot.
Donnie hauls me up against the truck, one hand wrapping around my neck, crushing in to my windpipe. My fingers scrabble against this thick hands, wrap around his wrists, and try to pry them off. Donnie shakes me like a ragdoll, rattling me back and forth against the cold metal of his truck. “Little cunt,” he spits, “I got plans for you.” I whimper and push against him but my vision is starting to blur around the edges. “You belong to me, Missi. Always have, always will. I seen you with them guys. You fuck both of ‘em?” I flinch, tears pricking at my eyes.
He laughs when he sees the fear in my face. “Yeah, you did, you fucked ‘em both. Did they feel sorry for you when you showed ‘em your tits?” He smacks me across the chest then catches one of my nipples in a painful twist. “Don’t matter none. I’ll take care of you when we get home. I’m gonna shove my dick in every hole you got, bitch. Hell, I might even make a couple a new ones.” I whimper, my vision starting to blacken.
“Hey!” Donnie yells when I slump against the truck, “Wake the fuck up!” He shakes me again, his spit spraying over my face when he laughs. “We gonna have fun, little girl. Just like we used to.” He grinds his pelvis against my hip, laughing like a hyena. “And when I’m done fuckin’ ya, which is gonna take a while, you remember that right? And when I’m done, since it looks like you done developed a taste for getting gang-banged, I’ll help you out with that, too. I know a few boys who’ll pay for the privilege of lining up for you. How many you want? You ever had two dicks in each hole? We might try that out. I think you’ll like it.”
Panicked groans bubble up from my throat when he reaches over and tugs open the passenger door. This isn’t going to happen. I’d rather die than go back with Donnie. It would only be a matter of time before he killed me anyhow, but my life would be worse than a living hell before he did. He lets go of my throat and starts to push me into the open door, but the fear spiking through me sparks my instinct to survive. I suck air down my bruised throat and scream, flailing against Donnie, clenching my hands into tight little fists. A lucky throw lands one high against his cheek. He curses when his eyes start to water, but he’s not hurt bad and he lashes out with a clenched hand, catching me across the temple. Stars explode across my vision.
He pushes me into the truck, trying to catch my flailing legs and shoving them in after me. He roars a wordless rage at me, and I scream out again, the sound ripping from my throat. I desperately lash out at him with both my feet. I feel them connect and Donnie goes down, hands clasped across his groin as he slides to the ground with a pained grunt. This is my chance.
I flop out of the truck, landing ungracefully on the asphalt, gravel biting into my knees, and scramble away, pushing up onto my feet. One of Donnie’s hands darts out and latches onto my ankle but he’s still hurting from the groin kick. I drive my other knee at him, knocking him to his hands before giving his wrist a hard stomp. I hear bones crunching but don’t wait to see if I broke his wrist. I take off for the lights at the far end of the parking lot, stumbling before I get my feet under me, and run like hell. Donnie is panting somewhere behind me and I can hear his boots pounding
at the asphalt, but I don’t look back.
A large form is silhouetted in the lighted square of the hospital doors. I bank my hopes on it being someone who can help me and pump my legs harder, widening the gap between me and the monster behind me. The figure starts to run towards me. I can tell from the way he moves that it’s Flint. Red is there too, not far behind. I can get to him. I think I can.
Donnie sounds like he’s closer and I find a little more to push my legs faster. It happens in slow motion that I barrel into Flint, our bodies bruising with impact. “Missi,” he gasps, as wracking sobs spill from my throat. I’m in his arms for a second before he pushes me behind him, towards Red who’s got his phone out now. I turn and see Donnie slowing. His eyes are on me, as though he’s trying to work out if there's a way for him to get me back. Donnie’s big, but Flint is bigger. Flint is stronger. Flint is a fucking MMA champion and he can kick Donnie’s ass to the fucking moon.
Flint strides forward and Donnie begins to back up, then he turns and starts to run. He has no problem beating down a girl half his size but he doesn’t want to take on my foster brother.
Flint doesn’t run at first. He prowls towards the truck like a lion who knows his prey is wounded. When he eventually gets tired of following, he sprints then lunges out and snatches Donnie’s collar, yanking him backwards off his feet. He twists Donnie around, his fists jerking back and landing blow after blow across Donnie’s face. The crunch of bone carries across the lot to where I’m standing with Red. I watch as Donnie sags to his knees, head dropping forward, blood spattering onto the pavement. Flint wrenches Donnie’s arms behind him and forces him face down into the asphalt, one knee in the small of Donnie’s back, his arms held firmly in Flint’s grasp.