Chapter 4 #2
Branson’s hug was everything. Tarius could breathe a little easier, think a bit more clearly.
His entire being wasn’t barreling forward at a thousand miles an hour.
Branson rubbed gentle circles on his back.
He didn’t offer platitudes or ask questions; he supported Tarius until he could stand straight again.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Tarius said.
“I know you,” Branson replied softly. “You’re trying to be strong for your parents, to be supportive and not show your own fear. But they have each other. Layne has Peyton. Someone needs to be here for you.”
“Thank you. This wasn’t how I thought we’d be spending time together today.”
“There are a lot worse things I could be doing.”
“Like what?”
Branson held eye contact, his green eyes shining with emotion. “I could be here, waiting for word about your surgery after a car accident.”
Tarius tried to smile but doubted he succeeded. “I’d be on that table in a heartbeat to save my brother pain.”
“I know. I’d do the same for Caden or Emory. Rei, too. When our brothers hurt, we hurt.”
“Yeah.” He resisted taking Branson’s hand, and instead, guided him over to one of the couches. “How did the phone chain reach you?”
“My parents texted me about thirty minutes ago. I was having trouble sleeping so the notification woke me up. Papa said not to rush down to the hospital, but I couldn’t stay home. Not knowing you were here.” Here alone shined unspoken in Branson’s eyes.
They both understood how it felt to be all alone in a room full of loved ones.
“Thank you.” Tarius gently bumped his shoulder. “It really helps having someone.” Having you.
“No problem.” Branson winked. “Although, I’ll need to attack the cafeteria as soon as they open. I didn’t even think to stop somewhere and bring coffee.”
“There’s a coffee machine down the hall, but it’s pretty bad. Tar your insides coffee.”
“Hah. That’s the stuff Papa and I like. Coffee strong enough to get up and walk out of the pot on its own.”
Tarius chuckled. “Then by all means, help yourself to that swill.”
“Maybe in a while.” Branson pressed his knee against Tarius’s. “Is there anything I can get you? Or your parents?”
“I just want Linus not to be furious about Dad’s decision.”
“Papa’s text wasn’t super specific on that, just that Linus needed leg surgery.”
“I wish it was that simple.” Tarius glanced at Dad and Liam, who were close together on another couch, arms entwined.
Liam seemed to be nodding off. “Linus’s right leg was trapped in the taxi, and it took a long time to get him free.
He also has a serious concussion. The surgeon gave Dad and Liam the choice of waiting to operate on the leg, so they could monitor his concussion to minimize brain damage, but that also ran a higher risk of infection from the leg wound. ”
Branson swallowed hard. “Or?”
“Or amputate the right leg below his knee, which is a faster procedure than repairing damaged muscles and arteries, so he’s under anesthesia for a much shorter amount of time, which is better for his concussion.”
“So, they chose amputation?”
“Yes.” Tarius pinched his thigh to stave off more frustrated tears. “Linus can learn to walk again with prosthetics, but brain damage is…harder to navigate. Dad and Liam made the best choice they could.”
“I know they did. I cannot imagine having to make that choice for my child.”
“Or for anyone I love.” Tarius held Branson’s gaze. Bright emerald eyes possessed by him, his omegin Kell, and both the twins. Also, his Uncle Braun. It was a very strong gene in their family. Branson’s eyes were warm, inviting, and full of understanding. And affection.
“Hopefully, we’ll never have to go through that,” Branson whispered.
“From your mouth to the goddess’s ears.”
They sat quietly, occasionally fielding texts.
Sometime after sunrise, a doctor finally came into the waiting room and approached Dad and Liam.
Tarius shot to his feet. He and his brothers surrounded their parents, while the doctor explained the amputation had been successful, with minimal chance of infection.
Linus would go from Recovery to ICU to better monitor his head wound.
“So, he’ll be okay?” Liam asked, putting every decibel of volume possible into his raspy voice.
“I am cautiously optimistic, regarding his leg,” the doctor replied. “It’s still his head we need to observe.”
“When can I see him?”
“Once he’s settled in ICU, he’ll be allowed two visitors at a time, starting at eleven.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Yes, thank you very much,” Dad said.
That was exactly the news Tarius had wanted to hear. Okay, not exactly. He’d have preferred hearing Linus’s concussion was no longer an issue, that he’d wake up in a few hours, and then they’d deal with rehab. But this was still progress. A new step toward helping Linus adjust to his new normal.
To everyone’s new normal.
After a long family discussion, they agreed they’d all go home, take showers, nap, and eat—not necessarily in that order. Liam snarled at the idea of leaving the hospital while Linus was there, but he finally acquiesced, and Dad led him out.
Tarius wasn’t sure how the decision was made, but he found himself dozing off in the passenger seat of Branson’s car.
He didn’t know what time it was when he passed out in Branson’s bed, only that Branson woke him with a mug of coffee that smelled exactly how he’d described it: strong enough to walk away on its own.
“Hey, it’s ten-thirty,” Branson said. “I wasn’t sure when you’d want to go back to the hospital.”
“Mmm.” Tarius yawned as he sat up. His neck twinged and he flinched. His stress always collected in his damned neck, and it had been worse lately, since he stopped visiting The Blue Room. Something he’d never told Branson about.
The Blue Room was a strip club and legal brothel, with a mix of beta and omega employees.
Tarius had no real use for the strip club, but he’d gone through a period of profound loneliness that began right before his friendship with Branson truly solidified, and he’d visited the brothel to…
find companionship. He hadn’t wanted sex; he’d wanted to be held.
He’d spoken to the club owner about his preferences, and the man (a widowed omega) had introduced Tarius to a dancer named Zaq Callahan.
Tarius had liked Zaq, who gave great hugs, and who didn’t seem put off by Tarius’s simple requests. Zaq had even given him a few massages—pants on, no sexy stuff. He missed their encounters, but as soon as Tarius learned that Zaq was dating and bonding with Caden Cross?
Off limits.
Besides, he got amazing hugs from Branson now. He’d never been bold enough to ask him for a massage, though. That’s what massage parlors were for. Or boyfriends. Not necessarily best friends.
Does Branson give good massages?
Not the time or place.
“Tar? I think you need this coffee, because you just zoned out on me.”
“Sorry.” Tarius carefully accepted the steaming mug and inhaled its strong, comforting fragrance.
“What were you thinking about?”
“Selfish things.”
“Hey.” Branson rested his hand on Tarius’s left knee. “Speaking as someone else with two younger brothers I constantly worry about? It’s okay to be selfish once in a while. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I was thinking that my neck hurts, because I’m stressed out, and I need a massage, which is such a small thing right now.”
“No, it’s not. Sitting around in pain isn’t going to help anyone, least of all you.”
Tarius huffed. “I’ll stand under a hot shower for five minutes.”
“Nah.” Branson took the mug away and put it on his side table. Then he manhandled Tarius so Branson was sitting on the bed behind him, Tarius facing forward.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a neck massage.”
“Why?”
Branson chuckled then poked him in the ribs. “Because you need one, and I am fully capable of giving you a simple neck massage. I can get stiff sitting in front of a computer all day, and Rei has given me a few in the past. He taught me some things.”
That was as good of a reference as Tarius needed. Rei Bloom was both legally blind and a professional masseur (the legit, non-kinky kind). Tarius rolled his shoulders once then settled in. “All right, have at it, my friend.”
“Great, my first practice subject.” Branson made a show of cracking his knuckles, which really didn’t crack. “You know, this will be easier if you take off your shirt.”
“Oh, okay.” Duh. He pulled his t-shirt off, shook it out, and folded it before putting it on the bed beside him.
“Try to relax for me,” Branson said with a touch of humor in his voice. Probably from Tarius folding his t-shirt. Maybe it was fussy, but he took care with all his clothes. As soon as he got home from work, he took off his office suit and tie, hung them up, and changed into home clothes.
Tarius rolled his shoulders again then tried to relax.
Branson’s first touch was warm, probably from the coffee mug.
His palms smoothed across Tarius’s shoulders and upper back, light touches meant to wake up his senses, before pressing harder.
Fingers gently dug into his muscles, starting at the top of his spine.
Not too hard, working in circles, down each knob to about the middle of his back. Then up again.
Branson focused on his spine for a while, and Tarius closed his eyes, easing into the relaxation of it all.
The massage moved to his left shoulder, then over to his right.
Back to his neck and spine. Tarius was so relaxed he let out a funny little noise that wasn’t quite a snore, and it made them both laugh.
“Lay down on your stomach,” Branson whispered.