Zombies Blow

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Zombies Blow Page 6

by Z. Allora


  Jax nodded.

  He had to say it. “It hurt when you disappeared. I had lost Perry, my mom was sick, and then you were gone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Keith took a swig of his beer. “Where’s Corey?”

  Turning away from Keith’s gaze, Jax sighed. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Fear, worry, and a bit of anger seeped into Keith.

  “Seeing you hurt him. He took off for an impromptu road trip and then blew a tire. He’s stuck in the mountains overnight. Since he hasn’t texted me, he’s probably lost reception or didn’t bring his charger with him.”

  Pain sliced through Keith, ripping open old wounds and tearing new ones. “I was an asshole to him. I know that. I want nothing more than to make amends.”

  “Well, you’re going to have plenty of time to do that.” Jax stood. “You want to step outside? I’m going to have a smoke.”

  Keith watched Jax fish around under a lower shelf on the bookcase and pull out a pack of cigarettes. “Sure…. Why do you keep your cigarettes taped to the bottom of the shelf?”

  Jax’s face scrunched up as he unfolded a piece of paper lodged in with the cigarettes. He laughed as he handed the note over.

  Keith read, I love you, Jackson. I wish you didn’t need a cigarette. If you’re in need of something in your mouth—Corey had drawn a big smiley face—I can help you out. Keith snorted at Corey’s dick pic, which involved a well-endowed stick figure. He finished reading, I’m sorry for making you upset enough you need one. Come talk to me. We can make this better. I love you, Corey.

  A desperate need of that kind of love and connection knocked its way through Keith’s body. How could this work? Jax and Corey had a loving relationship, and he’d be botching it up.

  After following Jax outside, Keith handed him the note and then watched the lighting-up ritual.

  “Give me one.” Keith had quit, but if he ever needed one, it would be right now. Even though he didn’t believe Jax, he asked, “Zombies don’t die of cancer, right?”

  Jax puffed out smoke. He caught Keith’s gaze. “Correct. You’re not believing me yet, are you?”

  “Let’s say I’m withholding judgment, but those Mating Books would be a long way to go for a ruse.” Keith lit the cigarette. He studied the burning end for a moment, then inhaled. The smoke filled his lungs, and after another moment, he exhaled.

  For a long while, Jax only inhaled and exhaled the smoke. It was mesmerizing to watch.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Keith threw the opening out there, and then took another drag on the cigarette.

  “I’m always in the middle. Corey’s going to lose his shit over you being our mate… and unless Corey wants this, we won’t do the exchange.”

  Keith froze. His hand clutching the death stick halfway to his mouth hung there. “I only skimmed a few stories, but doesn’t that mean you’ll die when I die… and he’ll follow?”

  Being responsible for snuffing out Jackson and dousing Corey’s beautiful light permanently was a horrible thought. How could any of this be true? He took a deep drag. The rush of nicotine coursed through his bloodstream, making his heart pound harder.

  After the cigarette and a lot of silence, he trailed Jax back into the house. Jax returned the pack to its hiding spot.

  “What now?” Keith felt clueless on how to proceed.

  Jax handed him another bottle of beer. “Time to get plastered like we did in high school.”

  Empty beer bottles littered the table in front of them as the sun began to come up. They had laughed about old times, and Keith was feeling no pain.

  No way Keith was driving anytime soon. He pulled out his phone. A time check confirmed Karen should be getting off her shift soon. “Sorry, I need to text my next-door neighbor to feed my bird breakfast.” He got an immediate text back saying no problem.

  “You’ve got a bird?”

  “I inherited a sweet African gray who insists on calling me Key-Key.”

  They both laughed over that.

  “It’s been over twenty years since we’ve gotten shitfaced together.” Jax gave him a sin-filled smirk that made Keith want to do all the dirty things….

  “Way too long. I’ve missed you.” Keith’s voice had gotten low and husky. Shooting the shit with Jax had always been one of his favorite pastimes. Their debates and conversations always got him going.

  Jax put his hands on Keith’s shoulders. “Every time we hung out like this, I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

  “Really? I never knew.” Surprise and confusion fought in his beer-slowed brain. Jax had wanted him way back then.

  “Yeah?” Jax leaned closer.

  “It’s sad. You know, all these lost years—”

  “Hey, no regrets.” Jax’s breath mingled with his own.

  “How did I miss it?” His teenaged self was probably too terrified to see what was right in front of his face because of what it might mean.

  Jax grinned. “Hey, I didn’t really telegraph a clear message to you.”

  “And I probably wasn’t thinking clearly because I was trying not to kiss you.” Keith felt a weight he didn’t even know he carried lift.

  Jax’s lips were less than an inch away. He swept his tongue out to moisten his lips and then asked, “Do you want—”

  The door banged open. “I felt the bond when it happened. Who—what the hell? Out of all the people in the world… him!”

  7

  What in the Ever-Loving Fuck?

  Corey dropped his messenger bag on the floor. He ignored his heart screaming with joy at the perfection and full-circle completeness of Keith, his first love, being their mate. Emotions he believed dead rushed to the surface, reminding him of how he had loved Keith with all the innocence of never experiencing heartbreak. His love was pure in its intensity and totally overwhelming.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy.” He hadn’t meant it to come out bitter… or fuck, maybe he had.

  Keith had scrambled back from Jackson and wobbled a bit. “I’m thinking he’s still mad.”

  The slight slur and the beer bottles scattered across the table said these two had had a party… without him.

  Jackson wiped a hand across his mouth as if he could take off almost having Keith’s mouth on his. Having been branded by those lips himself, Corey knew that wasn’t possible. If he closed his eyes, he could still recall the eager spearmint and Sprite-flavored lips kissing him with just a little too much tongue and somehow not enough.

  The hurt and betrayal were close on the heels of those high school lust-spiked memories. For two decades, he’d tried to sew up the lacerations sliced into his heart and failed. The idea of not being enough for Keith or his own parents… and then that negative belief was reinforced by him not being Jackson’s only mate. He should be able to get beyond it, but here he was, still feeling less than.

  At least his not being able to keep Demon locked in the recesses of his mind made sense. There was no locking away a mate… though some defiance deep inside Corey made him need to try.

  “I would never have guessed fate was truly this vindictive.” All Corey’s excitement at knowing Jackson had found their mate started to morph into a fury of massive proportions.

  Jackson hurried to his side and pulled him into a hug. “I texted as soon as I found out. Did you forget your charger, or was reception just that bad?”

  He absorbed some of Jackson’s stability before stepping back. Corey knew enough not to share he didn’t contact Jackson because he didn’t want the details over the phone but the first magical impression in person—some impression. “Let’s go with all of the above.”

  Corey wanted to have Jackson make sense of this for him. “How could it be him? It can’t be….”

  “Where are you going?” Jackson asked.

  Without realizing it, Corey had moved toward the door. The craziness of his first love being his mate… the same man who’d broken his heart and shattered all his foolish hopes and dreams— �
�I need to go.”

  “Where?”

  What was the answer? “Away from here.”

  Keith put his hand on Corey’s arm.

  Trying not to relish the touch that had been absent for decades was like trying not to come when Jackson sucked him off while spanking him. Impossible.

  “No, stay here.” Keith’s strict tone cut through all the nonsense in Corey’s head.

  Everything in Corey stilled. The firm boundaries he had always craved could be set by—oh fuck no! He whirled to face Keith. “Excuse me?”

  “You need to stay so we can figure this out.” Keith gave him a stern look that melted Corey and hardened him all at once.

  Jackson huffed. “Ha, Keith, you don’t even believe I’m telling you the truth, so what’s to work out?”

  Well, at least the man hadn’t gone insane in the past twenty years. Corey tilted his head and almost felt bad for Keith. Without experiencing the zombie exhaustion erased by a vial of come, believing in zombies would be difficult. But somehow Corey couldn’t quite reach where he hid his sympathy. He threw out, “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “It is.” Keith nodded.

  Emotions rushed him like shoppers at a 50-percent-off-the-clearance-price sale. “Ah, but you’re brave. You pushed your dick through a glory hole—weren’t you afraid someone would drive a nail into it?”

  A comfortable satisfaction at being the brat to distract coursed through Corey. Hey, if they were sighing over his behavior or words, they were less likely to see his real failings and flaws.

  A laugh barked out of Keith. “You’ve got such a big personality, but then you always did.”

  Calling upon every diva who had been born before him, Corey glared from his shorter-by-a-good-ten-inches height and stated, “I feel when people say that, they’re thanking me for having a personality so they don’t have to.”

  Keith opened his mouth but wisely shut it.

  Jackson smirked and shook his head. “Let’s get you some breakfast. You must be hungry, Corey.”

  Was his mate a mind reader? He was starving. “I could eat.”

  Keith followed them into the kitchen, but right after he ascertained neither Corey nor Jackson had food allergies, he began to prepare a… well, feast would describe it.

  “Corey, beat the batter.” Keith assembled ingredients as he assigned tasks left and right.

  “I’m going to beat something, but it’s not—”

  “Still such fire. It makes me happy to know life hasn’t dimmed your spark.” Keith hustled around the kitchen like he actually knew how to cook.

  Elated confusion hijacked Corey’s brain. Some parts of him fell into the celebration at the praise, and others dropped down on the side of “who does this asshole think he is to order us around.”

  “Jax, after you put the bread in the toaster, could you help Corey with beating the batter?” Keith poured what looked like a quiche mixture into cupcake trays. They had cupcake trays?

  “I always help Corey with beatings… I’m looking forward to some help with that.” Jackson gave Corey a hopeful smirk.

  Excitement wound its way through Corey, but he mouthed, “Fuck you.”

  Clearly not following Jackson’s track, Keith pushed the quiche into the oven. “Okay, you turn the bacon and roll the sausage so nothing burns. I’ll help him.”

  Arms wrapped around Corey, and Keith closed a hand around Corey’s to provide hand-over-hand assistance.

  Corey tried not to melt back into Keith’s strong body but couldn’t help himself.

  Nope! He ducked away from where he longed to be. “Here, you do this. It looks like you’re good at scrambling things. I’ll make the coffee and then the pancakes.”

  After another twenty minutes, they were seated in front of full plates.

  It smelled delicious, but Corey was stuck on the fact that he was having a meal with his mates… well, his mate and the asshole who broke his heart and might again, if given the chance. What made him think Keith would stay this time? Jackson deserved better than how Keith treated Corey.

  Corey felt a rush of love for Jackson. He ran his foot over Jackson’s—feeling their connection and love reinforced him. His gaze fell on Keith, where a mixture of chaos, love, hate, and then fear stormed through him, but rage settled in.

  Anger at how Keith had toyed with Corey’s heart made him blurt out, “I’ve carried what you did all these years… toxic shit. You made me feel worthless… like dirt.”

  Jackson cleared his throat, reminding Corey of what the therapist had said.

  Rolling his eyes at Jackson, Corey said, “Yeah, yeah, no one can make you feel anything you don’t let them. Drama Llama or not, he fucking broke me.”

  “I… I….” Keith stared at the table and covered his mouth, shaking his head.

  Encouraged by the pain written on Keith’s face, Corey continued, “I used to be nice—ha, now I’m a bitter old fuck who can’t even make Jackson happy. Jackson’s good and amazing and deserves everything….”

  “Baby.” Jackson reached out to him.

  Leaning away, Corey couldn’t allow himself to be pacified by Jackson, even if he craved the comfort. He didn’t want to stop, because he had to acknowledge what he was doing. “And even now by my unwillingness to forgive you for fucking me up, I know I’m hurting Jackson. By not grabbing what Jackson and I both want so desperately.”

  “What’s that?” Keith’s voice broke a thousand times on those two words.

  “Our goddammed mate.” Corey pushed the food away and started walking toward the bedroom.

  Jackson stood. “Corey. Please come back here. Let’s talk—”

  Corey turned. “This is a lot. So you’re both going to have to give me a fucking minute to deal with… this.”

  Keith nodded. “It’s understandable.”

  Jackson said, “You take all the time you need. No one is going to push you. We’ll get through this together like everything else.”

  Those weren’t just pretty words—Jackson and Keith seemed to really believe them.

  Corey couldn’t. He landed on the bed and started to scroll through the news, but exhaustion tackled him. Not drinking those vials the doctor had provided was probably a bad idea. He’d deal with everything after he closed his eyes.

  “Corey!” Jackson shook him. When did it get dark? Aw, shit! He’d fallen asleep without telling Jackson about needing essence. Well, fuck!

  Everything seemed far away.

  “Corey.” A deep voice twined its way through the darkness and found him. Usually that type of firm tone would have hardened Corey in a flash, but being without essence, that bodily reaction didn’t occur even though he was still mentally aroused.

  “What’s wrong with him? Should I call 9-1-1?” Keith grabbed Corey’s wrist. His grip was gentle and his touch warm.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” Jackson growled.

  “But his pulse is slow.” Keith pried open Corey’s sleepy lids and shined light right in his eyes. “Jax, he’s nonresponsive.”

  And Keith was lucky, because if Corey had been able to, he would have smacked him in the head for shining his phone light in his face.

  Jackson flicked him in the nose. “Corey, did you drink the vial Doc gave you?”

  Forming words was too much of an effort, so Corey tried for a headshake.

  “Corey?” Jackson’s voice sounded so far away.

  “No.” The word grumbled out of him, and he hoped Jackson heard him.

  “Why not?” Exhausted or not, Corey couldn’t miss his mate’s disapproval.

  “Mate… finally… wanted….”

  “You wanted to have your new mate’s essence, so you didn’t take what the doc sent?”

  Jackson was smart. So very smart. “Yeah.”

  “Jackass.”

  Corey wanted to remind him he was Jackson’s jackass, but that was too many words.

  “Shouldn’t we call a doctor… EMT? He’s really pale.” Keith sound
ed worried.

  Maybe Demon did care… nah. Corey called out to the one he knew always had his back, “Jackson.”

  “Jax, we need to do something,” Keith demanded.

  “Keith, relax. He’ll be fine. He just needs his mates.” Jackson fussed with his pants. Ah, Jackson would take care of Corey like he’d always done.

  “What the fuck, Jax, zip up. What the hell are you doing? Corey can’t even lift his head, let alone give you some.”

  The tip of Jackson’s cock pushed into Corey’s mouth.

  “Mmmm.” The sweetness… Corey’s body found the energy to squirm closer and suck.

  Corey would like to explain all this to Demon, but he’d figure it out soon enough.

  Jackson didn’t answer Keith, but said, “I’ve got you, Corey.” Soon he started jerking himself off into Corey’s mouth.

  “Zip him back up. For God’s sakes, he’s too sick. He’s not even hard. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but—mmm.” Jackson’s mouth was on Keith’s neck.

  Corey couldn’t see much beyond Jackson’s cock, but the soft groans escaping Jackson’s lips and Keith’s breathless panting were making him hot.

  His anger at Keith took a back seat to the rightness of being with his mates. Them taking care of him and each other. This was what he’d always wanted.

  Husky moans echoed.

  Jackson grunted and filled his mouth.

  Swallowing Jackson’s essence was—Corey came. Glorious waves of pleasure made him pump out his load as he ingested what he needed.

  He licked his lips. All of his senses flooded him—along with his fury.

  Careful to avoid the pool of his own come, Corey threw his legs over the bed, stood, and zipped his pants up.

  Keith held his hands out as if he were ready to catch Corey if he fell. “Corey? Sit down and—Jax, why does he look like nothing’s wrong with him?”

  Corey smirked at Keith and stated, “Always go for the simplest explanation.” Then he bent over and licked Jackson’s cock one last time. “Thank you, baby.”

 

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