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Rock the Cradle: An Mpreg Romance (Silver Oak Medical Center Book 6)

Page 12

by Aiden Bates


  Derek swallowed, hard. "I just got a text. Martin Greer was just released on bail."

  Chapter Eight

  Derek let Alex guide him to the couch. He sat down in a heap, like a bag of bones unceremoniously dumped onto the upholstery. "This is kind of a disaster."

  "No." Alex shook his head and sat down beside Derek and took his hand. "It's not a disaster. I know this guy scares the hell out of you. He'd scare the hell out of me too, if we're being honest. They'd have told him to stay away from you and Carmela. He's not allowed to go anywhere near you two."

  Derek just stared at him. "The guy is a human trafficker. He abducts young girls and sells them for sex. Do you honestly believe, in your heart of hearts, he'll decide to stay away just because the law says he has to?"

  Alex grimaced. "We can hope, right?"

  Derek slunk down in his seat. "We have to move. I have to take Carmela and we have to move. I wonder if we could get a place in Marcellus for a reasonable price? I don't think he'd look there, do you?" He jumped to his feet. "Packing up with one arm strapped down is going to suck, but whatever. I've done worse."

  Alex stepped in front of him, hands out. "Do you think you might be overreacting just a bit?"

  Derek pushed Alex’s hand away, just as Alex was reaching for him. "You don't know a thing about it, okay? People who decide they're going to kill you don't decide, 'Oh, hey, that's illegal, better not!' They hunt you down, they point that gun at you and they pull that trigger. They don't give a good goddamn about what happens next. They don't care if they get a penalty for doing something bad when they were out on bail, for crying out loud. Are you even listening to yourself?" Derek gripped at his hair and pulled. What kind of world did Alex live in, anyway?

  "Derek, come on. It's going to be fine. He knows they're watching him." Alex stepped in again.

  It occurred to Derek, on a very distant level he couldn't process right now, that Alex was trying to help. He wasn't being all that effective, but he was making the effort. That counted for something. Derek wasn't sure what. He was pretty sure Alex didn't deserve to get shouted at, or treated with contempt, but he couldn't stop himself. "They're not watching crap, Alex." He kept his voice down, because he knew Carmela was asleep. Other than that, though, he just exploded outward. "They never 'watch' the people they let out."

  "They have to." Alex put a hand on Derek's shoulder.

  Derek flinched away, because things touching his bad shoulder still hurt. "Alex, I get you grew up in suburbia. And that's fine, it is. It's awesome to be that safe all the time. Let me tell you how it is when the police know someone's out to kill you, okay? They wave a finger at the person and say, 'Don't do it again.' Then that person goes off to the bar, gets rip-roaring drunk, grabs the gun he legally owns because God forbid we take guns away from people who've already said they're going to kill their families, and then he points that gun at you. He pulls the trigger and bam!" He slammed his good hand on the coffee table. "There's a bullet between your eyes and everyone sits around wringing their hands wondering how 'we never saw it coming.'"

  He stood up and walked away from the couch. He didn't want to walk toward the window, because who knew where Martin Greer was? He headed toward the kitchen instead.

  Alex followed, close enough that Derek could feel the heat from his body. "Derek, I can see that you're talking from personal experience. Can you tell me what you're talking about or do I have to kind of guess?"

  Derek rounded on him. "It doesn't matter." He scratched at his jaw, just below his ear. "It doesn't matter, I guess. It's going to happen anyway."

  "Derek, if you'd just calm down and let me in, let me understand what's going on with you." Alex put a hand on his shoulder again, his good one this time. "Is this about how you wound up in foster care?"

  Derek glowered. "Maybe. It might be." He turned away. "Yes, okay? My father killed my mom in a drunken rage, after telling anyone who would listen he was sick of dealing with us and he was going to deal with 'that little bitch.'" He rubbed at his own neck. It wasn't a lie. "But it's not just about that, either. It's about the fact that no one cares what happens to survivors until we're dead. It's about no one thinking it's important to keep us safe, and everyone thinking it's important not to keep guns away from violent people."

  Alex slid his hand down to Derek's. It felt good, even if it wasn't exactly a welcome gesture. Derek didn't want to be placated, damn it. He didn't want to be distracted, either. If no one else was going to take care of him, he needed to take care of himself. Alex’s touch was so warm and gentle on his arm, though, and Derek was so responsive to touch, that he couldn't help but react.

  "Derek, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that your lived experience isn't real. Okay? And I don't understand why the authorities in California didn't take your father seriously. But that doesn't mean in this case that the police are going to be indifferent to you, okay? For one thing, they need you and Carmela to testify. That means they need to keep you two safe at least through the trial." He rubbed his hand up and down Derek's arm, and Derek's blood pressure slowly lowered.

  Derek shook his head. "They're going to let us die." There wasn't anyone to take the bullet for him this time, and he wouldn't want them to.

  Alex touched his lips to Derek's. "I'm right here with you, Derek. No one's going to get to you."

  Derek wanted to laugh, because on what planet was Alex "right here with him?" Alex wouldn't even drive him to a meet-up with his parents, because he couldn't tolerate the idea of having them think he might be dating a low-life like Derek. He certainly wasn't about to stick his neck out for Derek.

  He couldn't laugh. When Alex kissed him, all of those perfectly reasonable and rational doubts fled his mind. Right there in Alex’s arms, in that moment, he was safe. That moment was all that mattered.

  He opened his mouth for Alex’s questing tongue. "We should move," Alex murmured.

  Derek nodded as best he could with his head tucked up against Alex’s shoulder. He'd hate for Carmela to come in and find them making out in the kitchen. They might never convince her to eat something prepared on those counters again. "Bedroom?"

  Alex guided him down the hall to Derek's room. It wasn't a big bedroom, but Derek kept it neat and clean. He'd gotten into that habit when he was a kid, and he'd never gotten out of it. Sometimes other folks made fun of him for it, but on the other hand he never had to be ashamed to bring someone home.

  Alex lowered Derek onto the bed like he was made of glass, a precious thing that might break at any minute. He didn't complain, even though it felt a little absurd. He wasn't precious. He was the kind of guy people forgot, but he was definitely in danger of breaking right now. If someone wanted to take care of him, even for a few minutes, he wasn't going to complain.

  Alex carefully removed Derek's sling. "This is only temporary," he cautioned. "Don't move that arm, or I will tie it down."

  Derek smirked. "Is that a promise?"

  Alex grinned. His cheeks turned pink, and his eyes blazed merrily. "Don't test me."

  Derek chuckled and lay back. He let Alex prop up his arm just the way Alex wanted. Focusing on the way Alex moved the limb, and the way Alex’s touches made him feel, helped him to stop panicking about Martin Greer. He couldn't dwell on what might come down the road when he had the scent of Alex’s aftershave in his nose, or the taste of Alex’s coffee on his tongue.

  Alex's breath curled around the shell of Derek's ear. "Can I take your shirt off?"

  Derek's cheeks reddened in spite of himself. He and Alex had confined the physical side of their fling to what they could do with their clothes on. They hadn't escalated beyond kissing, and a few touches. Derek certainly wasn't averse to more. He wanted everything, as much as Alex wanted to give. Now that he was in the moment, though, he found himself feeling shy.

  "Of course." He might be feeling shy, but he wanted this. The ache in his cock told him he needed this. And hey, if Martin Greer was going to come and kill him, sho
uldn't he live it up while he could? "Please."

  Alex stripped Derek's shirt off with so much delicacy it almost didn't hurt. Then he settled Derek back into place, making sure his arm was in position. "The last thing I want to do is to hurt you," he said, stroking Derek's face. His eyes weren't on Derek's face, though. They were raking over Derek's chest and upper arms, taking in his tattoos and piercings.

  Derek's stomach tightened. He'd never been ashamed of any of his mods before. He still wasn't. That didn't mean there wasn't a little shiver of trepidation as he waited for Alex’s judgment.

  Alex didn't seem to be in the mood to turn up his nose, though. "When you were there on my operating table," he said, tracing the lines of one of the designs on Derek's chest with a finger, "I noticed these. I didn't see them in context. I just saw ink, and piercings on the x-rays. Which, for the record, looked weird. But look at you. Look at you! When I see your whole body, my God. You were probably already beautiful without them, but how does anyone see you and not just want to touch?"

  Derek flicked his tongue ring out. "I'm right here. Touch all you want. I'm all yours."

  Alex looked toward the door. "You mean that?"

  Derek nodded. "I'm as much yours as you want me to be."

  Alex nodded, pupils blown wide, and stripped his shirt off. He threw it into the corner, making Derek flinch, and traced the tattoo he'd just admired with the tip of his tongue.

  Derek couldn't explain why his finger felt good but his tongue was pure electricity. All he knew was that he broke out in sweat. Everything seemed farther away, everything except the bed and the man above him. He gasped and clutched at Alex, running his hand over Alex’s bare sides and back.

  Alex was already hard. Derek could feel him through both of their pants, hot and thick. Anticipation made his mouth water, and he wrapped his legs around Alex’s waist and bucked his hips.

  Alex gave a little laugh. "Little eager, are we?" He reached between them and palmed Derek's heavy, hard length through his jeans.

  The sensation, longed for and unexpected, made Derek jump. He barely bit down on his lip in time to keep himself from crying out. This would not be a great way to wake Carmela up.

  Alex cackled and reached for the fly of Derek's jeans. "I think we can accommodate you."

  Derek lifted his hips to help Alex strip off his jeans and underwear. He tried not to squirm when Alex looked him over afterward. He had every reason to be proud of his body, even if he wasn't built like a football player.

  Alex stared at him. His pupils were blown, and his hands already reached for his own fly. Derek had never seen him look so hungry before. "Derek," he whispered. "Holy crap, Derek, I need you."

  "Like I said before, you've got me."

  Alex looked around, and Derek pointed to the nightstand. Alex leaned across him to get the lube and condoms, rubbing their cocks together for a moment. Derek choked back a moan at the jolt of pleasure as they slid against each other.

  "Relax, baby. I've got you." Alex pulled back, supplies firmly in hand. He slicked up his fingers and bent down to kiss Derek as he got to work.

  Given the way he'd treated Derek like glass before, Derek was half afraid that Alex would make him wait forever. As it turned out, Alex wasn't interested in drawing that part out. He didn't rush—he didn't come off as indifferent to Derek's comfort. He definitely showed himself to be eager to get inside, and Derek appreciated that.

  When Alex finally slid inside Derek, working his way in with one slow, patient thrust, Derek would have sworn he'd died and gone to Heaven. The stretch was perfect. It wasn't too much for him to handle, and the sensation of perfect fullness put a smile on Derek's face that would last for weeks.

  Then Alex moved. Derek grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his face. He'd never had an easy time being quiet during sex, and when someone hit his sweet spot as often as Alex did it would be impossible. He needed to keep himself from waking Carmela as best he could.

  He tried to stave off his orgasm as long as he could, but in the end it was just too much. He was too full, and he felt too good. He exploded in white light, and for a long moment all he knew was pleasure.

  When he came back to himself, Alex had collapsed on top of him, hot and sweaty. Derek smiled and carded the fingers of his good hand through Alex’s floppy brown hair.

  Alex let out a happy little groan. "That was pretty incredible."

  "It was, wasn't it?" Derek yawned. "Thank you. I really needed that."

  Alex gently pulled out and went to dispose of the condom. When he came back, he lay down beside Derek in the bed. "I needed it too, I think. Although I think you probably needed it more." He kissed the top of Derek's head.

  All of Derek's worries and troubles returned to him with the subtlety of breaking glass. "Yeah. That's not necessarily wrong." He chewed on his lip. "I'm not sure what to do here. It's my job to keep Carmela safe."

  "I told you before." Now it was Alex’s turn to comb fingers through Derek's hair. "I'm right here with you. No one's going to get to you. You're safe here."

  Derek tried to make himself relax. He wished he could believe Alex, but Alex didn't understand how men liked Greer worked. He'd never been in danger. He'd never faced a bullet before.

  And it was hard to take someone seriously when they said they were there for you, but were gone before the sun came up.

  ***

  Alex snuck out of Derek's condo at four thirty in the morning. He wasn't usually a 'sneak out in the dead of night' kind of guy, but Carmela was an early riser and Alex didn't have any clothes at Derek's place. He needed a shower, and he didn't want Carmela to have to deal with sharing a bathroom with him.

  Not that Carmela could possibly not know about him and Derek. The girl was traumatized, not unobservant or somehow mentally deficient. She'd seen the canoodling on the couch. She hadn't asked them to stop, at least not where Alex could hear her.

  Still, there was a difference between knowing two people were involved and being confronted with them being sexual in front of you. Alex could respect the need to avoid overt displays of sexuality. He might resent it, but he could respect it.

  He saw Ayla the afternoon after he and Derek first made love. He hadn't intended to. Rick Wade had simply called him into a meeting along with Holmes, Myles, Radic, and anyone else significantly involved with treatment of victims from the trafficking case. Ayla happened to be among them, because she was an advocate involved with the case.

  Ayla got up in front of the room in her sharp suit and cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here. Some of you may have already heard this information from your patients and clients, but I wanted to give you the details in a more coordinated manner. Martin Greer was released from the Justice Center on bail yesterday. Bail was set at a prohibitive amount, which is why it's taken this long to raise the money, but he did make bail and so he's free to wander around Onondaga County.

  "He is not permitted to make any attempts to intimidate witnesses or communicate with witnesses in any way. That doesn't mean that he won't. You've been invited here because you're technically part of the investigation. It's possible Greer, or someone connected with Greer, might come to you and try to intimidate, coerce, or influence you."

  Alex pulled back, stunned. How in the world was he in any way connected to any of this? He was a trauma surgeon, an emergency room doctor. He didn't think about how patients had been injured, he treated the injury and moved on to the next one.

  Was he in more danger because of his connection to Derek? He didn't want to think so. No one knew about his relationship with Derek, for one thing. For another, there was no way that this Greer guy would know who Alex even was.

  Even if he did, though, Alex wasn't about to walk away from Derek. Derek needed him right now. He didn't think the danger was high, and Derek had been there for him and his family. It was more important to him to be here for Derek than to worry about the unlikely possibility that Martin Greer would choos
e to make things worse for himself.

  Detective Langbroek stood up and took the podium from Ayla. "We're doing everything we can to protect the survivors. We don't have the resources to put a protection detail on everyone, and I'm not sure that's realistic anyway. There are a few things you can do to keep yourselves safe. First things first—I know you're all scientists, or at least most of you are. At a time like this, trust your gut. Sometimes parts of your brain you don't consciously use are telling you something you need to know. If something seems 'off' to you, step back. Get to a location around people. Don't push it off and tell yourself it's not rational."

  Alex made a face. He'd never bought into the whole intuition thing. If his gut was telling him something, he needed to pay better attention to the health inspection reports the Post Standard published.

  Langbroek pushed a wisp of blonde hair out of her face and continued. "If you see the same face a little too often, someone you don't know or who wouldn't usually be at the places you're going, speak up. There's nothing wrong with caution. It might be nothing, just a change in someone's pattern, but it might be something too. Let us be the judges, okay?

 

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