by Luna, David
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s true, but if you did, your age wouldn’t matter.”
She shook her head, trying not to laugh with him, face mock serious. “Andale. Get out of here, mijo. You need to find a sexy man to keep you occupied.”
He clutched his heart as if in pain. “You wound me, Mama! And you know you’d miss me if I wasn’t here to harass you on a weekly basis.”
She snapped a towel at him, but he’d never admit to yelping before he wiggled his eyebrows. “Feisty! I like that!” Another towel snap. “Okay, okay. Jesus, woman!”
She smiled and approached, leaning in to receive his usual cheek kiss of goodbye. He opened the back door of the food truck, stepped out, and waved. “See you next week. Don’t work too hard.”
“Bah! Then we’d both be penniless.”
He chuckled at that ridiculous statement and shut the door, jogging to his car to escape the drizzling rain. Once he’d pulled on his seat belt, he turned the car on and asked Alexa to play some Creedence. He hummed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, unable to keep himself from singing along. “Someone told me long ago there’s a calm before the storm. I know it’s been coming for some time.”
He continued singing, nodding along to the classic beat, when the rain went from drizzle to downpour. Unprepared for it, he slowed a bit and jumped in his seat at the shrill sound of his phone ringing. Fumbling with the volume, he found the button on his steering wheel and clicked it.
“Hello?”
One of his closest friends, Damon, asked, “Hey, you get your steak soft tacos?”
He scoffed. “You don’t know me!”
“Pffft. Keep telling yourself that. Listen, Sir and I are having a few people over on Saturday, and we expect you to be there.”
“I dunno. I have plans this weekend with Jimmy.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end before Damon replied, “Well, bring him if you have to, but I know you hate mixing real life with all your many littles.”
He shook his head, knowing Damon was just trying to get a rise out of him. “You make it sound like I have boys just surrounding me at all times.”
His friend snorted. “You could.”
“Hardly. You know I’ve been dating Jimmy for a several weeks, and before that I was with Charly for a couple of months. I’m not a player.”
“Mmhmm, and you’ll drop Jimmy just like you did Charly, before he gets any ideas.”
It wasn’t like that. He knew what he wanted, and so did Jimmy. They’d been scratching an itch, and it had run its course. “You act like I’m just breaking hearts all over the place. The boys I see are great, but when we’re both feeling like it’s not working, I don’t want to drag it out for either of us.”
“And Jimmy knows?”
“Yeah. He does. We’ve both talked about it. I’ve got a playdate with him this weekend. He said he wants to have little time once more, and I want to give that to him. He’s a good boy, and it’s not easy finding Daddies who enjoy age regression.”
“Yeah, it’s rare around here.”
“And that makes it hard to find what I’m looking for. We’ve been over this. I’m not going to be a celibate monk until the right boy comes along, but I also don’t want to play too long with a boy who isn’t the one. We’d both end up settling, and that’s not what I want to do.”
His friend sighed, and he could practically see his exasperated expression. “I get it. So, you’ll come then, yeah?”
“I’ll see what I can do. What time?”
He heard Damon ask his husband, who was also his Dom, before coming back on the line to answer. “Around five-thirty, give or take.”
“All right. I’ll try to juggle things around.”
“See that you do, or I’ll have Sir torture you the next time you’re in to see him.”
The thought of Damon trying to convince his very professional husband, Syed, who just happened to be Thornton’s doctor, to do anything unprofessional to him at his next physical was completely ludicrous. He laughed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
He turned the wipers as high as they would go barely able to see ahead of him, let alone use his side mirrors. Glancing behind him to check for cars, he switched lanes to prepare for his turn on the next block. He heard Damon talking in the background when he turned to face the road in front of him again. But before he could reply, panic seized his whole body when he saw a car drive into the intersection. At the same time, he could barely make out his light had turned red. “Fuck!”
He saw what was coming in hundreds of little snapshots, like a photographer’s shutter speed was rapidly capturing the horror of the moment. Everything happened so fast, it was like his car was moving at the speed of light when he knew he was driving under the speed limit. He didn’t even have time to slam on his brakes or brace himself before he was colliding with the little gray hatchback.
The screech of metal, the breaking of glass, and the eerie silence that followed had his head spinning and his body shocked into immobility. The impact was so jarring he knew he’d be feeling it for a long while afterwards and quite possibly have a bad case of whiplash. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself, finally beginning to hear the world around him again, the pouring rain on the roof of the car, and a tic tic tic of his engine, letting him know it wasn’t happy with him. He took mental stock of his body to ensure nothing was broken. Thank fuck for the seat belt.
He glanced up at the car his SUV had slammed into and didn’t see any movement. Not that he’d see much in the downpour, but no movement at all scared him to death. Seeing movement to his left, he glanced and saw another car had stopped just shy of the car he’d hit, the driver a young girl who had her hands over her mouth in shock as the rain drenched her from head to toe.
He finally registered that Damon was yelling his name. “Thorn, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Fuck. Yeah. But I just fucking t-boned someone. Jesus. Call 911. I’m at the intersection of Thirty-first and Vine. I gotta go check on the driver I hit. There’s no movement in the car.”
“Calling now. Let me know as soon as possible if everyone is all right and if you need anything.”
Glad his friend would take care of a task that would have slowed him down, he launched himself out of his car, slamming the door closed behind him. He rounded the tiny car, a rainbow Human Rights Campaign sticker catching his eye. He yelled to the teenage girl, not wanting anyone else hurt with visibility so low. “Get back in your car and pull over to the side of the street and wait there. The police are on their way, and they’ll need you to be a witness.”
She looked relieved he’d taken charge and turned to run to her car as he approached the driver’s side and was nearly sick to his stomach at the amount of blood on the window. “Jesus Christ. Oh, fuck.”
Thornton tried the door, and when it opened, he breathed a sigh of relief. The boy inside looked tiny and so very vulnerable. His body was leaning heavily against the seat belt strap. It looked to be the only thing that was keeping him upright in his unconscious state. And the blood. Oh, god, the blood was everywhere and just kept coming. When he’d opened the door, the rain landed on the boy’s skin, the blood being diluted and traveling faster down his cheek. Fucking head wounds. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kid, can you hear me? You’re gonna be all right. An ambulance is on its way.”
Goddammit. All of his instincts urged him to unbuckle the boy and cradle him in his arms, but he didn’t trust that it wouldn’t do more harm than good. He had no idea if his neck and back were damaged and didn’t want to make anything worse. But he had to know if the boy was alive, as he couldn’t even see if he was breathing or not. He reached in and placed his fingers on his carotid artery, not wanting to put too much pressure but needing to know.
Thornton thanked whatever deity would listen when he felt a steady pulse beneath his fingers. He needed to reassure the young man somehow with touch, so he knew he wasn’t alone. H
e glanced down and saw his fingers twitching where his hand rested on the seat of the car. Thornton sat down gingerly on the narrow ledge of the door and gathered the young man’s hand in his. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here with you. You’re not alone. The ambulance is on its way.”
The rain let up a bit, causing him to look towards the street. His heart thrummed more rapidly when he felt the boy squeeze his hand in a barely there acknowledgment of his words. He glanced back and was stunned speechless when he was met with a pair of the most gorgeous eyes he’d ever seen with tiny chips of blues, greens, and ambers—eyes that gripped him, made his heart beat faster, sent goosebumps skittering over his skin. Something indefinable shifted inside of him, and he couldn’t look away. They were eyes that were world-weary and more than likely older than his years.
And as much as he felt something strange was happening between them, right then and there, he shook himself back into the present. Focusing on his face and wincing at the blood that just kept coming out of the wound on his temple, Thornton spoke softly so he didn’t spook him. “I’m here with you. You’re going to be all right. Do you understand me?”
The boy nodded, then winced at the pain the movement had caused, and Thornton winced in sympathy. “Don’t try to move. I don’t know the extent of your injuries, so I think it’s better if you don’t.” The kid whispered what Thornton thought was an affirmative response and, thankfully, didn’t move again.
He couldn’t wait for the ambulance, though. The amount of blood he was losing from his head wound had Thornton in a panic. He looked down at himself, trying to figure out what he could use to staunch the blood. He might have to use the cotton lining of his coat. Moving to take it off, his hand brushed past the pocket, and he remembered the napkins he’d stuck in there when Mama had given him the tacos.
Reaching in, he pulled the wad of napkins out and scooted a little closer. He had to steady the boy’s head on the opposite side with his other hand, so he didn’t get hurt by moving it. Placing the napkins against the wound, he applied as much pressure as he dared, not wanting to hurt the boy any more than he already was. He heard the far-off sound of an ambulance and turned to face the direction he thought it was coming from. Jesus, he’d never been more grateful to hear that sound in his life.
Thornton’s heart broke when he turned back and saw tears gather in the boy’s lashes and nearly shattered in two when he heard pain and regret in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
God.
“Don’t apologize. None of this was your fault.” Thornton glanced over when the sirens became deafening and squinted at the bright lights of the oncoming emergency vehicles, realizing the rain had lessened even more. Only a drizzle now. “The ambulance is here. You’re gonna be…” When he glanced back at the young man, his eyes were closed again. “Shit… okay, you’re gonna be okay.”
Those startling eyes slowly opened again, and before Thornton knew what was coming out of his mouth, he asked, “Can you tell me your name?”
The man’s eyes closed again, and Thornton figured he wouldn’t answer, but when he finally said, “Asher,” Thornton breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Asher was falling in and out of consciousness and only wanted to soothe him. “All right, Asher. My name is Thornton. It’ll be just a few more moments, all right?”
Panic bled through the pain in Asher’s eyes, and Thornton’s heart gave a jerk in his chest when the boy said, “Don’t leave me. Please.”
The anguish in his voice and the tears he saw slip down Asher’s face broke Thornton’s heart. He felt something and glanced down and saw the boy’s hand gripping his coat in a death grip, desperation making the boy’s hand shake.
“I won’t. I’m right here. I’ll stay with you until they ask me to move so they can help you.”
Asher opened his eyes, and stark fear showed in their depths. “Arrhythmia. Tell them…”
Horror lanced through his body as he realized what the boy was saying. A heart condition? Fuck, fuck, fuck. The boy lifted his right wrist and waved it a bit. Thornton saw the bracelet there and clasped Asher’s arm, gently pulling it closer to him so he could read what it said. Asher Simmons, a phone number, Atrial Fibrillation, Coumadin.
He stood up, needing to do something to help and panicked that Asher’s heart was giving out as he sat there doing his best to comfort him and stop the blood. He glanced back down, feeling helpless, and grew more worried when he realized Asher had lost consciousness again. He heard doors slamming and feet pounding on wet pavement. Two men, one older than Thornton and one younger, were suddenly there before him.
The older man placed his hand on Thornton’s shoulder. “Sir, you need to back away so we can help the victim.”
The pressure of the man’s hand startled him out of his panicked state, and he rushed to speak. “He’s been in and out of consciousness. His name is Asher Simmons. He managed to tell me he has an arrhythmia. His bracelet says atrial fibrillation and coumadin.” He moved out of their way and watched as they set their equipment down.
The older EMT nodded and thanked him, and they began checking if Asher was conscious. When he didn’t answer them, they moved fast, wrapping a huge, plastic neck brace on him and placing a board behind his back. Thornton knew he was no longer needed. But hell if he could force himself to move away. He watched as they carefully maneuvered Asher out of the car and placed him on a stretcher another EMT brought them. He glanced around and saw two ambulances had arrived, not just one. A firetruck and several cop cars. Jesus.
He stood, watching them roll Asher away, unsure what to do. He wanted to get in his car and follow them to the hospital, but he knew that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? He turned and started around Asher’s car to do just that and was stopped by a police officer. “Sir, is that your car?”
He realized he was more shaken than he thought he was when he remembered he had to stay and deal with the mess he’d made. Fuck.
The cop pointed at his BMW with its crushed front end. Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere. He turned to face the cop, and another EMT approached him. This was going to be a long fucking night. The EMT looked him over to make sure he was truly all right. When the EMT suggested the ER to get him checked, he refused, and then the cop began peppering him with questions. After explaining everything and handing over his driver’s license, he turned to get his registration from the car, when he finally realized he hadn’t checked back in with the girl.
“The girl. Did she stay to talk to you?” He turned around, looking for her.
“Yeah, she’s answering questions now. How are you feeling?”
“Physically, I’m fine. A little sore. I’m just feeling awful for running into the young man.”
The policeman nodded. “Yeah. I understand that. He’s in good hands, though. You’ll be bruised in more places than you can imagine, and your neck is gonna hurt for a while. Like the EMT said, if you’re refusing to go to the ER to get checked, make an appointment with your primary care doctor right away just to make sure everything is okay. If the EMT suggested you go to the ER, seeing your doctor is important. You may feel things tomorrow you aren’t feeling right now with the adrenaline still coursing through you.”
He nodded in response, knowing that was most likely true and already feeling the aches and pain he’d be feeling more of the next day. He’d have to call Syed and… Fuck. He walked to his car as quickly as his aching body would allow and excused himself as he walked by all the emergency personnel. “Sorry, everyone. Need to get the phone out of my car and let my friend know I’m okay.”
He grabbed his phone, his keys, and his registration, handing the paper over to the cop he’d been speaking to, remembering Asher’s keys at the last minute. “What about the young man’s keys and personal things?”
The cop raised his brows. “I can grab the keys and check for anything he might need and take them to the hospital. They’ll make sure to get everything to him.”
Thornton nodded. “Thanks for your help, officer.” He stepped away, making the call he’d nearly forgotten about.
“Jesus, Thorn, we’ve been worried sick.” Damon’s strained voice made him feel like shit.
“I’m sorry. I was helping the guy I ran into until the EMTs and cops arrived. The poor kid I T-boned is a mess. Fuck, guys, he’s probably no more than twenty years old.”
“Are you all right, though?” The worry in Sy’s voice made him realize he should have led with that.
“Yeah. I’m all right. I’m feeling achy, but I’ll be okay.”
“Thorn, I don’t want this to wait.”
He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of it, when Syed said, “How about you come over here now? I can check you over to reassure my worrywart of a husband that you’re fine.”
Damon, his voice full of sarcasm, replied, “Yeah, because I’m the only one worried about him.”
“Watch yourself, D.” Thornton smiled at Syed’s warning.
To which Damon replied, “Sorry, Sir.”
He interjected. “No. I need to go to the hospital and check on Asher.”
Syed wasn’t going to let it drop that easily. “Thornton.” Syed’s voice held a warning. “We’re coming to pick you up. We’ll stop back by our place so I can check you out, and then we’ll take you to the hospital.”
He sighed. Well, it would save him a Lyft ride. “Okay. Yeah, that’ll work. Christ, you guys. His blood was everywhere. He’d hit his head on the driver’s side window. He was in and out of consciousness, and right as the ambulance arrived, he managed to tell me he has an arrhythmia. Showed me his bracelet listing atrial fibrillation and coumadin. He was unconscious by the time the medics got to him. For all I know, he could have been having a heart attack.”
Syed muttered, “Fuck,” over the line, and Thornton’s heart flipped in his chest.
“Tell me what to expect when I get there. Don’t church it up, Sy. Tell me the worst case so I’m prepared.”