by J. M. Dabney
# # #
The sun just started cresting the horizon, and they’d transitioned from copious amounts of coffee to Zerk’s supply of energy drinks. He sat on the couch with Cyclops curled on his lap and Plague on his shoulder. He absently stroked Cyclops folded ears.
“Let’s go over the time line again,” Scary leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.
“He left the shop about 12:30,” Priest answered.
“Lucky got to our place at one.”
“What were you two talking about,” That was Lily.
“Things were tense between Priest and him. He was a bit down, and I think he wanted some advice that wasn’t littered with sarcasm and get all y’all telling him I told you so.” Elijah glared at everyone from his spot tucked under Tank’s arm in front of the fireplace.
“We’re not that much a group of dicks.”
“Yes, you all are. I told him to have a heart to heart with Priest and not let it all fester, but he said he was going for a ride to clear his head. After that, he left.”
“Well, now that it’s daylight, we’ll all gear up and head out in different directions maybe he broke down. Anyone tried to call him recently.” Scary stood and lifted his arms over his head in a long stretch.
Tank kissed Elijah, then stood and headed for the door.
“I’ll just put Plague in her cage and be back,” He set Cyclops on the floor then got to his feet and headed upstairs to Lucky’s bedroom. The room that use to be theirs. He eased Plague into her cage and secured the latch. He turned to the made bed, but he could still see the impression of Lucky’s long frame on his side.
Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he let his chin fall to his chest as he started to cry. The tears hot against his cheeks. He hadn’t fully realized how much Lucky was a part of his life. All those touches and stupid jokes just to make him smile, it started the moment they’d met. These last two nights he’d snuggled in an empty bed unable to get warm. He didn’t care if Lucky hated him for pulling away or decided he was too much trouble, he just wanted Lucky back.
“Priest,” Lily’s voice came from close beside him, and he opened his eyes.
“I want him back.”
“We all do, but we have to find him first. You know how accident prone he is. He’s going to have some crazy fucking story about having to camp out and eat bark to stay alive.”
“I fucked up. He hit my ex while we—”
“He told me. My son tells me everything. You were frightened of him for what he did. He understands that, and he should’ve thought ahead, measured the consequences, but when someone threatened you…the man he loves he just lost it for a minute. My son would never, I mean never do anything to hurt you purposely. But when you pulled away you took away his center. You’ve grounded him so much.”
“We need to get going, he missed dinner, and it got pretty cold last night. He hates being cold.”
Lily kissed his cheek and smiled at him, and he tried to ignore the pity in her eyes; ones that were exactly like Lucky’s.
It didn’t take them long to head off in different directions. He’d chosen the route they’d taken on their last solo ride. There was this diner in the middle of nowhere that sold these twenty-pound burgers if someone finished one they got their picture on some wall of fame. Lucky joked about doing it one day.
Trouble rode to his left and slightly behind.
If, no when he got Lucky back he would make it up to Lucky for being an asshole. He’d sleep beside Lucky every night. Tell him he loved him. Everything he’d been frightened to say he’d get out no matter how painful. He missed the scent of lemon and hemp lotion; he missed the softness of Lucky’s locs across his chest and stomach. Only eighteen hours and it was as if his heart was being ripped out, they’d never been away from each other more than an hour or two in years.
He scanned the road ahead; they’d been going for almost an hour and still nothing. They were about to pass a farm on the right when he noticed a break in the fence with skid marks leading towards it. He motioned towards the side of the road, and he caught Trouble’s nod. He slowed and pulled to the side, the acrid scent of smoke made him crinkle his nose.
Curiosity turned to terror as he noticed a phone smashed on the edge of the road. He knocked his kickstand down with his heel and he tore off his helmet as he took off running. His legs buckled at the sight of Lucky lying pinned beneath the remains of his bike. He slid down the embankment screaming Lucky’s name.
Falling to his knees beside Lucky he reached out but hesitated not knowing where to touch. There was a crack along the right side of his helmet. Blood coated what skin wasn’t bruised, lacerated or bore road rash.
“Trouble,” He hollered.
“I’m calling, is he—”
“I don’t know,” He choked out as he bent forward. “Lucky, can you—”
He didn’t dare move him, but he laid his head on Lucky’s chest, listening for the familiar and comforting rhythm of his heart. His breath shuddered in temporary relief; it was the strong, steady beat that lulled him to sleep at night. Then he noticed the soft panting breaths as if Lucky couldn’t breathe deep enough.
“State police are on their way and a chopper, we’re too far out for an ambulance to do—”
He blocked it out; he didn’t want to hear any more. He moved his gaze over Lucky cataloging each injury. Lucky’s body posed at weird angles, the denim of his left leg was blackened and burned. There was so much blood—too much. He gently took Lucky’s hand, making sure not to move it, but needing to touch him, even in a small way. Lucky was cold. Priest jerked off his jacket and laid it over Lucky.
“You’re gonna be so cranky when you wake up. I’ll make sure you get a lot of warm blankets, but you—you gotta wake up for me. I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t…I didn’t mean it. I was just stupid. I’ll make it better I promise.”
As he spoke tears flowed down his cool cheeks as he softly stroked Lucky’s hand and traced the lines of Lucky’s bloody palm. He didn’t know how much time past but suddenly sirens and the powerful beat of propellers broke through the eerie quiet.
“Sir, we need to check him, sir.”
A firm, but gentle voice urged him to step back, and hands were on his shoulders, pulling at him, and panic stole through him.
“Dude, no, I got him, don’t touch,” Trouble started whispering soothing words in his ear as the taller man slowly moved him back away from Lucky. “Breathe, Priest, it’ll be okay. Let them do their jobs.”
“What’s his name?” A paramedic in a blue flight suit asked as they began to assess his injuries.
“Lee Trenton.”
“White male, single person motorcycle accident. He appears to be in his late twenties multiple blunt trauma to the sternum, possible broken ribs, leg, and arm. Pulse weak. Hypothermia and blood loss. Definite head injury. We need a backboard now.”
“I’ve lost the pulse.”
It was the last thing he had heard before his legs went out from under him and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
“Priest, pull it together, man. We’ve gotta get to the hospital.”
“You’ve gotta call—”
“I called everyone; we gotta go.”
“I can’t lose him, Trouble, I didn’t get to tell him—”
“He’s gonna be fine; you can get all sappy when he wakes up and when he’s back on his feet you can bitch him out.”
He watched helplessly as they loaded Lucky into the chopper and it quickly took off. The troopers wanted to ask questions; he automatically answered so he could get going. He didn’t realize how slow time could pass until he had to make the long ride to Atlanta.
13 IMMEDIATE FAMILY ONLY
The strong scents of antiseptic stung his nose and the florescent lights were killing his eyes. He glared at the woman through the partition who was barring him from getting to Lucky. “What do you mean I can’t go back,” Priest yelled at the admitting nurse.
&
nbsp; “I’m sorry only immediate family—”
“He’s my partner, I have every right—”
“I’m sorry, sir, but hospital policy is very clear, are you married?”
“No,” Priest’s shoulders slumped and everything seemed to collapse around him. Lily and Damon were still a half hour away.
“Mr. Beall, I am extremely sorry, if I could give you the information you wanted I would.”
He could sense the sincerity in her voice and the way she looked at him. “But his parents are still almost half hour away.”
“If anything happens and his condition worsens before they get here I will let you know. It’s the best—”
“I understand.”
“Here,” Trouble thrust a paper cup into his hand and steered him toward a row of uncomfortable looking chairs.
“They won’t tell me anything; he’s mine I should—”
“Lily and Damon will be here soon. Drink, you need the caffeine, you look like you’re about to lose your shit.”
“About to, I lost it the moment I saw, I saw him. I can’t lose him. He can’t leave me.”
“He won’t, Lucky is a stubborn fuck, and the one thing he cares about above all else is how his pretty bear is.”
“What if he’s already gone and they just won’t tell me.”
“Quit,” Trouble ordered.
From the tone of Trouble’s voice, he thought it best to change the subject. Besides, he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Lucky always handled confrontation for him.
“Who has the kids?”
“Brody stayed behind, he’s going to send them to school, and once we know more, we’ll tell them what happened. If need be, he’ll bring them here.”
“You mean to say—”
“Don’t piss me off right now, Priest.”
He let the conversation go and leaned back, his legs bounced as he kept his eyes fixed on the automatic doors.
A short time later Lily and Damon rushed through the entrance, her red-rimmed eyes frantically searched for him and then she was there with her arms wrapped around him.
“What have they said?”
“They won’t tell me, I’m not family—”
“The fuck you’re not, come with me,” Lily had an envelope clutched tightly to her chest.
“My name is Lily Trenton, I’m Lee Trenton’s mother, this is my son’s partner.”
“I’ve explained—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you explained. This is something you’ll understand.” Lily slammed the Manila envelope onto the desk. “Those are medical power of attorney forms giving Matthew Beall complete control of all medical decisions. Now tell him what the fuck he wants to know.”
“Mr. Trenton is in critical condition. He’s being prepped for emergency surgery to repair ribs which punctured a lung, and other multiple fractures. They’ll know more when they open him up.”
“Can we see him before they take him?”
“Follow me; I can give you ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” He took Lily’s hand, and they followed the nurse. She moved quickly on sensible shoes through the automatic doors.
“Ten minutes.”
He nodded but hesitated to push aside the curtain.
“It’s okay I’m right here.” Lily held tight to his hand as she stood close beside him.
He reached out and pushed the curtain aside; his lungs froze in his chest at the sight in front of him. The hiss of the ventilator and the beep of the heart monitor was nothing in comparison to the still bloody and broken body of Lucky.
“We’ve put him into a medically induced coma. Once he’s out of surgery, we’ll remove the vent,” A soft hand came to rest on his forearm and a compassionate, slightly rounded faced nurse smiled up at him. “It looks scary, but it’s necessary.”
“You removed his piercings.”
“Yes, we’re going to do an MRI to check for any damage we can’t visually assess.”
“Did you remove his guiche?”
“Guiche?”
“It’s a piercing through the perineum.”
“Oh no, we didn’t even think,” the nurses face turned red. “We did remove his—”
“Prince Albert.”
“I’ll let someone know about the other so it can be removed before his scan. I’ll leave you alone with your husband. Here,” she placed a small braided band of silver in his palm.
It was Lucky’s favorite ring and he’d worn it on his ring finger for—three years. He closed his hand around the body warmed silver. “He’s not—” How he wished he could say yes, claim Lucky for all to see, but he’d waited too long.
“Thank you,” Lily cut him off and nudged him towards the bed.
“Riding for him is like second nature. His bike’s like an extension of him.”
“We don’t know what happened out on that road. An animal could’ve darted in front of him. Any number of things,” Lily placed herself on the other side of the bed. “He was always my daredevil. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t try.” She reached out and stroked her hand over Lucky’s locs.
“Fearless, I love that about him. I love him you know, always have.” It was always more than friends. He pushed it away, denied the truth that Lucky so treasured and now he was possibly going to lose him. Before he could say it aloud, or share a real kiss, one not platonic or their one kiss caused by stress and desperation—a moment to just know they were wanted. And what had he done, pushed Lucky away, denied himself and Lucky the comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms. The last memory of him would be his indifference. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
“I know. Lucky’s blind as fuck, but none of the rest of us were.”
“I treated him so—”
“A man who brutalized you and invited others to do the same, my son defended you. No matter what he says he didn’t regret it. The only thing he regretted was the way he caused you to look at him. I knew my son loved you the moment he brought you to dinner that first time.”
“How?”
“He treated you like Damon does me. Damon gets some intense satisfaction from knowing I’m cared for, and Lucky does the same for you. Do you know he bought a house?”
“No, when?”
“A year ago, I shouldn’t have told you; it was going to be a surprise. He said it was your perfect house, the one you dreamed of having.”
“I told him that years ago,” He wanted a small cottage on a few acres, a home like Lily’s with character and infused with love and laughter.
“You made my son happy. Made him believe that he could have someone all his own even as goofy and crazy as he is.” Lily leaned down and rested her lips on Lucky’s forehead ignoring the blood, dirt, and bandages.
He listened to her softly whisper she loved him.
“He’s perfect.”
Lily straightened with tears in her eyes. “I’m not one to lie, honesty—” She stroked Lucky’s brow. “We’re not given very many chances in this world for happiness. It’s a shit place to live, but you were given an opportunity to be loved and cherished. Don’t fuck it up and if he doesn’t make it, treasure that you were loved above even himself. You were his enlightenment and his joy—his soul mate.”
Priest nodded and watched her walk away before he leaned down to place his mouth next to Lucky’s ear. “You have to come back to me, you have to show me our house—” His voice broke. “I need you. I need you to love me until I know that I never have to be afraid again.”
“I’m sorry, but we need to get him upstairs.”
“Okay,” He wiped at his eyes and then pressed his lips to Lucky’s brow. “I love you.” He straightened and stepped back as they started to wheel him out.
He didn’t want to think this was the end. Didn’t want to believe this would be the last time he saw Lucky with his heart beating. He wanted to see Lucky’s beautiful eyes open, stare into them as he told Lucky he loved him. Sorrow broke him at all the years he’d wasted living in the
past, believing touch only led to pain. Denying what he’d always sensed to be true—Lucky was his.
14 LUCKY’S NOT WAKING UP
Lucky’s chest rose and fell in a deep even rhythm, Priest carefully curled up on Lucky’s right side. Three days past since he’d found Lucky and still Lucky hadn’t awakened. He talked to him for hours. They said Lucky might be able to hear him, but part of him hoped not. He’d rambled on about plans for them, when they’d move into their house, and how much he missed sleeping in their bed.
Everyone tried to talk him into going home to get some rest. He’d refused; he couldn’t sleep without Lucky, not since the first night three years ago, when Lucky found him pacing the halls. Lucky offered him a spot beside him, and he hadn’t been able to drift off without the warmth of Lucky’s body beside him. He still didn’t understand what made him agree as quickly as he had.
He rested his head on Lucky’s uninjured shoulder and tenderly stroked Lucky’s hairless chest. Lucky lost too much blood before they’d found him. They’d repaired his lung with surgery and thankfully hadn’t found anything serious during the operation. The swelling of his brain had subsided, but he just wasn’t waking up. The doctors and nurses kept telling him the same thing that Lucky would wake up when his body was ready.
“Good evening, Priest, how’s he doing,” Meg a beautiful middle-aged nurse breezed in with a bright smile with a clipboard in her hands.
Meg didn’t even bat an eye seeing him on the bed with Lucky. One of the other nurses had tried to tell him he couldn’t sleep there. No one else said a word. Meg came over to the bed and checked the machines and recorded everything on Lucky’s chart.
“Still not awake.”
“I know, but they just stopped the meds last night. He’s doing great; his vitals are strong, and his color is looking better. He’ll be awake before you know it.”
“I hope so; it’s weird not hearing him talk. He loves to talk about anything and everything. I always said I hated it, but I want him to wake up so I can hear him call me his pretty bear.”