by K. Webster
Jordy: Any word?
Me: Nope.
Jordy: I have Renaldo on it.
I don’t like Jordy owing Renaldo shit, especially because of me.
Me: What’s Renaldo going to do?
Jordy: Tell him to back the fuck off.
Me: At what cost?
Jordy: Does it matter? Anything for you and Roux.
It’s been days since the Alejandro shit, but I’m still completely unnerved by it all. Tonight is date night for me and Hollis. I’d hoped to cook Roux a nice meal before taking her over to hang out with Charlotte. Looks like we’ll be having grilled cheese. The one—and only—good thing about having a boyfriend who won’t fucking eat is I don’t have to take him to dinner. He isn’t interested. We go to a lot of movies instead.
Someone knocks on the door. I frown, wondering if Hollis decided to come early to pick us up. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I head for the front door. I peek through the window and see a familiar face.
“Carol?” I open the door to Roux’s social worker. “What are you…” I trail off when I see two cops with her. “What’s this?”
She gives me a gentle smile. “We’ve come to take Roux home.”
I’m already shaking my head. “W-What? No. She lives here.”
“Her mother—”
“Fuck Mom!” I bellow. “She’s an addict who has an abusive boyfriend who wants to kill me!” Are these people fucking insane?
“Son, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down,” the cop with blond hair instructs, his hand awfully close to his gun.
“Calm down? You’re about to take my sister from her happy home and toss her back to the wolves!”
“You don’t have custody,” Carol tries to explain. “This living arrangement was temporary.”
“She can’t go back there,” I cry out. “They’ll hurt her!”
“We’ve inspected Mrs. Hirsch’s apartment and find it suitable—”
“This is wrong,” I roar. “No!”
“What’s going on?” Mike’s voice carries up the stairs outside.
“Oh, good. You’re here,” Carol says. “We’re taking Roux back home.”
“Fuck,” Mike curses.
“You know the rules,” Carol states. “My hands are tied.”
“What’s going on?” Roux asks from behind me.
“Go to your room,” I plead to my sister, like that might somehow keep her safe. “Please.”
“Sweetheart,” Carol says in her nicest social worker voice. “I’m here to take you back to your mom.”
“No!” Roux yells. “I don’t want to go back!”
I try to slam the door in their faces, but the blond cop pushes inside. Before I can swing at him, Mike is on me. I struggle against him. “Let me fucking go!”
“No,” he snarls. “You let them do their job. This isn’t the way to stop it. We’ll find a way, but this will only get you in trouble.”
My eyes blur with tears as the cops have to physically restrain my sister, who tries to run. I’m no match for Mike’s brute strength, though I fucking try. Our screams are like wild animals being captured and beaten.
“Roux!” I bellow. “Roux!”
“Roan! Help!”
I’m in a rage and I’m lost. I can’t save her. I can’t fix this. I don’t know what to do. They haul her out of the living room, just past me. My fingers brush along hers as she’s dragged away. We’re both fucking crying.
How do I fix this?
How do I save her?
“Please,” I beg anyone who’ll listen. “Please. They’ll hurt her. Please don’t let them hurt my baby sister.”
Mike hugs me to him tight. Like he can hold all the breaking pieces of me together. He can’t, though. There’s too many. If I don’t have Roux, I have nothing. Alejandro will hurt her. He’ll hurt her just to fuck with me. They send her back and it’s inevitable.
I cry and plead and struggle to no avail. Carol packs up Roux’s stuff and then they’re gone. I’ve given up my fight when it’s just Mike and me.
“Roan, I’m so sorry,” he mutters, his voice cracking.
I break away from him and run into her bedroom like she might still be there. It smells like her perfume she wears now. Sweet and innocent. They’ll break her. Fuck, they’ll break my sister. I fall face first onto her bed and scream into the mattress. The tears don’t stop as I try to figure out how I’m going to fix this.
I have to fix this.
I’m not sure how long I’ve lain here losing my fucking mind, but it’s long enough that Hollis has arrived and I never even knew when he showed up. He’s just here. Holding me. Kissing me. Whispering assurances that make my heart squeeze. I hug him to me, inhaling his scent and hoping this is all a bad dream. His phone keeps buzzing in his pocket, but he ignores it to look after me.
“I’m here,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking through my hair, soothing me. “I’m here.”
I manage to crack my eyes open so I can look at him. He’s not my pale porcelain boy today. No, he’s gray. Why the fuck is my boyfriend gray?
“Is this a nightmare?” I croak.
“Yeah. Feels like one.”
It’s not a nightmare, though.
Roux has been taken from me and my boyfriend looks like death.
“I’m going to steal her back,” I tell him, violence thrumming in my voice. “Then I’m taking you to the motherfucking hospital.”
His lips that once were pink but are nearly as gray as his skin press together. “You can’t steal her, Roan. You have to be smart.” I don’t miss that he ignores my comment about the hospital.
“I’m tired of being smart,” I growl. “It has gotten me absolutely fucking nowhere.”
Hollis whines and I think he’s going to argue with me, but he’s hurting. Like really fucking hurting. He rolls away from me, curling into a fetal position, his arms clutching his stomach.
“Hollis,” I bark out, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
He shudders. “I’m going to be sick.”
I jolt into action, helping him to his feet and taking him to the bathroom. He’s barely on his knees before he starts puking.
Oh fuck.
Blood.
He’s puking up blood and not a little like last time.
“No, no, no,” I beg, yanking my phone out of my pocket. “Hollis, babe, it’s going to be okay.”
He groans, his head lolling forward. I stroke his hair with one hand while dialing Kelsey with the other.
“Roan,” she answers. “Are you—”
“It’s Hollis. He’s puking up a lot of blood. Help!”
“I’ll be right there. I’m calling nine-one-one.”
We hang up and I text Mike.
Me: Hollis is puking blood. Upstairs. Help!
I don’t wait for his reply. I’m too busy making sure Hollis doesn’t fucking die on me. Within minutes, Mike rushes into the bathroom. He squats down beside Hollis and starts trying to ask him questions. Hollis is completely fucking passed out.
Oh God.
“Hollis,” I say, shaking him. “Wake up.”
“Paramedics are on the way,” Mike assures me. “We just need to keep him from hurting himself before they get here.”
He’s passed the hell out, so I don’t know how he’d hurt himself. I’m panicking when Kelsey blasts into the bathroom.
“My baby,” she cries out. “Hollis, baby, it’s Mom. What’s going on, honey?”
We’re a mess, trying to rouse him, when the paramedics arrive. They gently push the three of us out of the way so they can get him on a stretcher. I’m damn near ripping at my hair when Mike tells us he’ll drive us to the hospital.
“He’s going to be okay,” Mike assures me from the front seat of his truck. “He’s in good hands.”
Kelsey is on the phone, speaking rapidly and answering questions to someone on the other end. I’m nearly catatonic by the time we reach the hospital. Mike parks out front, letting me and
Kelsey climb out while he goes to park the truck. She has her phone pressed to her ear as she guides us inside.
“I don’t know, Garrett. Just get here when you can. It’s the only hospital here. You can’t miss it.” She hangs up only to call someone else. “Oh, God, Karen. I’m freaking out.”
She continues to talk as she walks over to a front desk. The person motions for us to wait in the lobby area with a million other people. Kelsey finds a chair, but I can’t sit. I pace in front of the vending machine, worry eating me from the inside out. Someone vacates a chair and I fall into it, suddenly exhausted. My life is a mess and I don’t know how to fix any of it.
I wake when someone tosses a package of muffins at me. With the heel of my hand, I rub at my eye. The waiting room has thinned out some. Mike settles in the seat beside me with a package of muffins for himself.
A man strides over to us. Muscular. Handsome. Confident. Familiar. He sits beside Kelsey and for a moment, I think he’s the doctor. I perk up, listening to what he has to say.
“It’s a perforation on the stomach. A pretty good-sized tear from an untreated ulcer,” he tells her. “They’re prepping him for emergency surgery.”
Doctor.
Definitely the doctor.
“I told you to get my son to the doctor. I knew something was wrong,” he hisses, his voice turning nasty.
I’m already on my feet stalking over to him, crushing the muffins in my fist. “Do not blame this shit on her when all she’s ever done is take care of your fucking kids.”
The guy’s eyes—blue and just like Hollis’s widen—and he gapes at me. “And who the hell do you think you are, young man?”
“I’m your son’s boyfriend,” I spit out at him. “And if you have a problem, you can take it up with me.”
Mike grips my shoulder. “Enough, bud. That’s enough.”
“I’m going to have security take this brat out of here,” Hollis’s dad states, an air of superiority in his tone.
“Garrett,” Kelsey says in exasperation. “Cut the kid some slack. Cut me some slack. We’re all doing the best we can. He’s worried about him. If you think you’re going to go in there and act this way around Hollis, he’ll never forgive you.”
Garrett’s shoulders hunch. “It’s just a serious condition, Kels. If he were to go septic, his organs could fail. We could lose our son. I feel like had I been around, I would’ve seen…” He trails off, fisting his hands. “This is all my fault.”
The idea of losing Hollis makes me suck in a sharp, horrified breath. Both Garrett and Kelsey wince. They must feel that pain every bit as much as I do.
Mike gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Want to grab a coffee?”
Kelsey gives me a small smile and a nod. “We’ll be right here. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
I allow Mike to guide me down to a Starbucks kiosk. I’m numb as he walks over to take our order. My phone buzzes in my pocket. As soon as I pull it out, my heart stutters.
Roux.
I fucking forgot she had a phone.
“Roux,” I grind out.
Sobs.
All I hear are sobs.
I lose my fucking mind.
Hollis
“There you are,” an unfamiliar voice says. “How are you feeling?”
I blink in confusion. I’m in the hospital. “What’s going on?”
“You, sir, are getting ready for surgery. I’m your nurse, Fran. Dr. Edmond will be in soon to go over what he’ll be doing.” She smiles. “Your parents are here to see you.”
Parents?
Dread washes over me, making the heart rate monitor beep like crazy. I don’t have a second to process her words before Mom rushes in. Her eyes are red from crying or fatigue, I’m not sure.
“Oh, baby,” she croons, grabbing my hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sick.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her in the brightest tone I can muster.
“You’re not fine,” a deep voice booms. “Your stomach is bleeding, son. That hole is only going to get bigger left untreated.”
I cringe, closing my eyes. “Why is he here?”
“I’m sorry,” Mom whispers. “I am.”
“I’m here because you’re my son,” Dad says with such arrogance I want to slap him.
“You kicked us out,” I mutter, lacking the energy I crave to yell at him.
“I’m not here to fight.” Dad regards me with a haggard expression. “I’m worried about you.”
Hot tears burn in my eyes. I blink them away. I hate my father. I hate that he’s here. I especially hate that a tiny part of me misses him. That same little boy always seeking impossible approval.
“The CT scan showed no signs of peritonitis, which is fantastic news because if you were septic, that’d change the ballgame, son.” He places his hands on his hips. “The hole is decent and will only grow if they don’t repair it. If we were back home, I’d do it myself, but luckily I’m here and I’ll be able to advise the surgeons here on what to do.”
Oh, God.
Mom rolls her eyes at him. “Perhaps you should go discuss it with the doctor now.”
“Dr. Edmond is on his way,” Fran chimes in. “You might find him in the hall. You should hurry.” She winks at me.
Dad smiles, patting the top of my head. “We’ll talk after, Hollis. I love you.”
I look away from him, tears brimming in my eyes.
“I thought we’d never get him out of here,” Mom grumbles. “How you doing, baby?”
“I’m tired. I want to see Roan.”
Mom’s smile is weak. “After surgery, okay?”
“Is he okay? Is he wrecked?” Guilt swarms inside me as I worry about how he feels. He was destroyed about them taking Roux and then I got sent to the hospital. There’s no telling that boy’s state of mind right now.
“He’s been better,” Mom says. “He had to leave.”
“Mom…”
“He took Mike’s truck.” She frowns. “Roan’s a big boy. He can handle himself. Right now, we need to focus on you.”
“Mom, he’s going to do something dumb. He’s messed up right now. Why didn’t you try to stop him?”
She takes my hand. “Because you need me more than he does right now.”
“You almost ready?” Fran asks as she checks my vitals.
No.
I’m not ready.
I need to make sure Roan’s okay.
“Where’s my phone?” I demand. “I need it.”
Mom digs through a bag at her feet. “Here you go.”
I dial Roan’s number and it goes to voicemail.
Fuck.
“Make it quick,” Fran warns. “I can hear Dr. Edmond outside that door. He’s no nonsense. When he comes in, he’ll want to take you right back to surgery.”
Ignoring her, I flip through my numbers until I find Jordy’s. Roan gave it to me once for emergencies. I’d laughed it off, assuming I’d never have to call him, but here we are having a goddamn emergency.
“What?” he snaps.
“It’s me. Hollis.”
“Rat? Where’s Roan?” The instant fear in his voice sets me on edge.
“Not here. I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid.”
“What do you mean? Why aren’t you with him?” he demands.
“I’m about to go in for emergency stomach surgery.” I close my eyes. “They, uh…they took Roux back to her mom’s.”
“They did fucking what?” he roars.
“Roan was here and now he’s not. For him to leave me, something bad is going to happen. Please help him, Jordy. Please.”
He curses. “Right. Okay. I’m on it.”
“Thank you,” I breathe.
“Rat…”
“Yeah?”
“Stay alive. For Roan.”
“I’ll do my best, man.”
“Still want to be a firefighter?” I ask, running my fingertip along the grooves between his abs.<
br />
“Yeah.”
“I always wanted to bone a firefighter.”
“Freak.” Roan chuckles, his stomach muscles tensing in a delicious way that makes me want to lick them. “What are you gonna be? Not a doctor, which sucks because I need a sugar daddy.”
I swat his stomach. “Maybe Mike will be your sugar daddy.”
“Gross,” he says with a laugh. “I think Mike wants to be your mom’s sugar daddy.”
“What? No fucking way.”
“Dude, have you seen the way he eyes your mom’s ass?”
No. I’m going to kill him.
“Aww, little Hollis is getting mad because someone likes his mom.”
“Fuck off.”
“Only if you’re fucking off with me.”
I tilt my head up to look at him. He rolls his body onto mine and kisses me. Sometimes his kisses are vulnerable and sweet. Those kisses imbed their way into my heart. It’s times like this that I realize I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep Roan Hirsch as mine. Whatever it takes.
“So no doctor. What then? Substitute teacher?”
“You have a fetish for substitute teachers,” I grumble.
“It’s your fault. You showed up in your spiffy coat and your expensive car. I can’t help it I fell for the whole gig.”
“Fell, huh?”
Instead of responding, he playfully bites my jaw. “Tell me.”
“I like the idea of helping people, but I refuse to give my soul to a hospital. Dad lost us when he married medicine.”
Roan kisses me again, softer. Gently. Like he can kiss away the pain inside me—pain Dad is responsible for.
“Maybe a paramedic,” I say thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’m tough like you to want to run into burning buildings. But helping them once you bring them out to me, I can do.”
“Oh,” Roan teases, “I like the idea of you looking hot in your suit and standing in front of an ambulance. Definitely going to jack off to this image later.”
I grab his ass and squeeze. “Make sure you call me when you do because I’ll be doing the same thing thinking about you in all that heavy fireman’s gear.”
“I might have already jacked off to fantasies of you as my teacher.”
