Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
PJ
There’s so much fucking beeping and talking, so many bright lights, and why the hell is someone poking at my arm?
Am I at a party? The one single time I went to a college party and got wasted, I woke up to find someone had drawn a dick on my arm. Last fucking time I ever got drunk. Or so I thought.
That seems wrong, though. Instead of stale beer, I’m smelling my campus job. Harsh cleaning products, the kind that burn your nostrils.
“Leave me alone.” I smack at whoever’s messing with my arm. “Want to sleep.”
“I need to check your vitals, Mr. Jeffries, and then I’ll be out of your hair. I’m Yolanda, by the way. It’s nice to see you’re awake.”
Yolanda’s got a voice like an angel, but she needs to leave me alone. I try to roll over so I can get some more rest, but she’s got an iron grip on my arm.
“Let the nice lady do her job,” a familiar voice says. “You’re lucky I’m not your nurse, or I might’ve accidentally gotten too rough with your catheter for being a contrary shit.”
“My cath—what the fuck?” My one small experimental movement is met with immediate regret. Every muscle in my body hurts. I’m sore like I went ten rounds in a boxing ring.
“Simon?” I force my eyes to crack open, and there he is. Smirking at me with his arms crossed over his chest. Behind him is his boyfriend, Sebastian. Which is a little weird because I’ve only ever seen that guy at brunch, and, uh, I don’t think we’re at brunch.
“What are you guys doing here?” Something Simon said catches up with me. I look to see a lovely nurse with braids and a no-nonsense expression typing into a tablet by my bedside. “You’re very pretty. Do I really have a tube in my dick?”
She shrugs slightly. “You were unconscious. Good to see the pain meds are working.”
Then she gives me what I think is maybe supposed to be a reassuring smile, but maybe not because she also looks a little too amused for someone who just told a guy that a) he’s been unconscious, and b) he’s got a tube in his dick.
I turn my attention back to Simon. “What the fuck happened?” The last thing I remember is riding in the back of Brennan’s SUV.
“Well, Ravi’s upstairs, for starters. Something about some drugs they found at a canning facility on the East End.” Simon tilts his head. “You were with him. You don’t remember?”
I close my eyes and try to think, but my whole brain’s kind of pounding.
“Rav and I went with Brennan to try and take down this guy who’s been kidnapping people and—” My eyes fly open. “Fuck. Evans. What happened to Evans?”
Before I can work myself into a froth, there’s a hand on my arm. Evans is standing where the nurse was. His nose is bandaged and so are his wrists. His eyes are wet. “Fuck, I’m so glad to see you,” he says. “I’d hug you, but you look like shit.”
Given that half his face is covered in gauze, that doesn’t speak well for the state I must be in right now. Doesn’t matter. I could explode, I’m so fucking happy to see him.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Aside from a broken nose, sure.” He doesn’t look like he means it, though. I’ve never seen him looking so haunted. He cuts off any questions with a shake of his head. “No, I really am. Or I will be. Thanks to your boyfriend, Eric is dead. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
“Boyfriend?”
Evans seems confused. So am I.
“You went to his house, remember? You went when I told you Eric was going after him. They said you were in a fire.”
Through my pounding head I can find the memories now—racing to Fallon’s house, the flames, the smoke. Wrestling that fucking guy down the stairs.
“I remember the fire. That fucker Eric hit me in the head. I don’t remember anything else.”
Evans squeezes my hand. “Your man whacked him over the head with some artwork or something. The fire was too out of hand by the time they arrived to enter the house. So sad. Your guy’s a fucking hero.”
“My…”
Evans turns toward the door, and there’s Fallon out in the hall with a shoulder sling on one arm. My heart rate monitor starts beeping all crazy for some reason.
He’s talking to some other guy. Older, better dressed, and sickeningly handsome in spite of the exhaustion all over his face. Fallon gives the guy a one-armed hug, and I’m pulling at the stuff I’m hooked up to, trying to get out of bed.
“Hey, cool it.” Simon lunges forward, pushing me back into the bed. “You obviously forgot about the dick tube, you idiot.”
Fallon’s at the doorway, knocking on the frame. “Is it okay if I come in?” I give a slight nod, not trusting myself to speak. I might say something stupid. Like threatening to murder his new whatever-that-guy-is.
Still, I could pass out from how relieved I am to see him whole and standing right in front of me. It’s a good fucking thing I’m already mostly lying down.
“Do me a favor and leave your new boyfriend’s name and address when you leave so I can kick the shit out of him after I’m released.”
Or maybe saying something like that.
Fallon nearly rolls his eyes. If he were still mine, I’d punish him for that.
“That was my friend Tomás. He was crashing in the guest room after too much wine the night Eric showed up. He’s also dog-sitting Bruiser until we find a new place. The Premiere doesn’t allow animals.”
It doesn’t pass my notice that he leans heavily on the words “friend” and “guest room.” I try not to let my chest swell over that win, but the train has left the station.
Fallon pulls a chair up next to where Evans is standing.
Evans, for his part, pats the back of my hand before moving away.
“Hey, I have to go and talk to the police again, okay? I’ve been giving them all the info I can on what Eric was up to.
They said you might be able to check out tomorrow, so I’ll meet you back at our place, okay? Couldn’t believe my key still worked.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Everything’s waiting for you. Bet Jojo’s thrilled to have you home.”
Evans grins. “She told me to fuck off. I’ve missed her so much. Both of you.” He gives Fallon a friendly smile. “We’ll talk later. I think you two have some catching up to do.”
Then he’s gone, and a look around the room tells me everyone else left when I wasn’t paying attention.
It’s only the two of us now. It’s everything I want, even if it’s only for a minute.
“I’m sorry,” Fallon says when he sits down.
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” I resist the urge to squirm under Fallon’s gaze, or clear away the discomfort in my throat. Apologizing is right up there with having a tube in my dick, but it needs to be said. “I should have been honest with you.”
Fallon nods. “I understand why you felt like you couldn’t be. I had a long talk with Wes. He admitted you wanted to say something, and he asked you to wait. I’ve also made it clear that if he can’t stay out of my personal life in the future, he won’t be welcome in it.”
Nothing I say to that will come out sounding good right now. As far as I’m concerned, Wes can eat a dick. Still, I’m glad for the news.
Wait. “Does that mean I get to be in your personal life from now on?”
Fallon’s smile is sad. “That’s up to you.
” He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and lays it on a table by my bed.
“First off, this is for you. Second, the house is destroyed. You’ve been unconscious for a couple of days.
I met with an insurance adjuster yesterday, and they’re going to cut me a check.
Which I’d like to use to buy a smaller place. More land. More privacy.”
“Hmm.” It’s all I say, because inside my heart is twisting itself into knots. Fallon is so close, and I’m dying to touch him. “That sounds great for you.”
You know what sucks? Feeling like you want to punch something but not being able to because there’s a tube in your dick.
“You doing okay?” I ask.
I’m not sure I am, but I want him to be.
“Better than you.” His fingers brush over the hair on my arm. “I was treated for a strained shoulder and smoke inhalation and released the same day.”
“No, I mean…” After you killed someone.
“Honestly, it was a relief.” Fallon lowers his voice. “Maybe that makes me as bad as him, but knowing he can’t hurt anyone else? I’m glad.”
With a wince, I reach to squeeze his hand. Every time I try to move some wires pull at me.
“What’s in the envelope?”
He hands it over. I fumble it open with clumsy fingers. When I do, I’m not sure what I’m seeing.
The words blur against the page, making me blink. “You’re…buying a shack?”
“Shelly’s Shake Shack. Nice alliteration, right?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a gift. For you.”
Shelly’s Shake Shack. Oh hell. “It’s an ice cream stand.”
“You said it was your dream. You and Evans.”
You’re my dream.
“I can’t take this.”
“Sure you can. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing extremely well financially.
Mostly through no real effort of my own.
Marina’s parents had money, which went to her when they passed.
She’d made a ton of money as an artist in her own right.
Painted a mural on the building of a startup, and they paid her in stock.
That startup turned out to be Trasik Global. ”
“Holy fuck.” Trasik Global is a massive conglomerate, the leader in cloud computing and database solutions. “We did a case study on them in my finance class.”
“You mean your business classes, which you dropped last week?”
I wince. “Oh, fuck. I did, didn’t I? I went a little out of my head after you dumped me.”
“Yeah. I went looking into things when you didn’t show up in class. I thought you needed some space. Didn’t expect to find you’d withdrawn from all your classes.”
Fallon pushes the paper toward me. “You should go back. If you want to. I already sent Dean Sutton my resignation letter, so you can take the class from someone who’s not me.
Obviously, it’s your call. The catch with the ice cream place is it took some damage after hurricane Hecate.
It needs work. Shelly’s tired of rebuilding every couple of years and decided to retire.
Your friend Simon also said his boyfriend could help you learn what you need to know.
Apparently he helps entrepreneurs grow their businesses. ”
“Baby. Even damaged, I know how much these places cost. I never wanted your money. I don’t want you ever thinking otherwise.”
His hand comes to my face. “Am I still yours?”
I wrap my fingers around his wrist. “That depends. Do you think you can trust me again?”
“We’ll get there. Just promise you’ll tell me everything from now on.”
“I promise. Anything. Everything. Whatever you want. I’d give you a kidney right now if you asked me.” It’s convenient I’m already in a hospital.
Fallon clears his throat. “There’s one other thing. I hope you’re okay with dogs, because I decided no other family was good enough for Bruiser. We’re kind of a package deal, if you think you can handle that.”
That gives me pause. Not in a bad way. I knew he’d love that dog. I’m fucking thrilled. “Whatever you want,” I say again.
“I only want you, Keeper.”