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Shattered Glass

Page 29

by A. C. Katt


  Milo alternated between shouts and whispers, pleas and demands, promises and threats until Liam squeezed his hand and whispered Milo’s name.

  They put Joe on a second stretcher behind them, accompanied by J.B. With the ambulance full, the medics wouldn’t let Milo and J.B. ride with the patients.

  As the ambulance took off, Milo saw Bart in the front yard, surrounded by uniformed officers. Milo didn’t care. He plowed right through them and jumped the bastard. He began to beat Bart. All the frustration, anger, and fear of the past six years came pouring out with each punch. When he added those years to the fact that his baby was hurt and bleeding, Milo couldn’t control his frenzy. It took four cops to pull him off Bart, and they were only able to do so because Sam kept calling his name.

  “Cut the crap, asshole. Liam needs you at the hospital, not in the local lockup. The scum will be locked away until he dies of old age for the premeditated murder of Liam’s father. Fucking stop now, Milo. Liam needs you!”

  At the second mention of Liam’s name, the red fog of anger began to clear from Milo’s brain and he stopped punching. As if in dreamtime, he watched Sam expertly deal with the police who, after seeing the condition of the hostages, were inclined to turn a blind eye to Milo’s transgressions. Milo kicked the bastard once more, just because he could, as Sam herded the party over to the limousine.

  * * * *

  The men rode in the limo and followed the ambulances to the hospital. Rick looked at Sam and made a gesture toward the front of the car.

  “I would say it hasn’t been this fellow’s average day.” Sam laughed out loud at Rick’s weak joke.

  “I see you’re recovering your sense of humor.”

  “We’re both going to need one while Liam convalesces. Milo’s going to be all over him to take it easy, and Liam isn’t going to like it one bit,” Rick said.

  “Conchita’s going to need earplugs,” Sam answered, hoping to get a response from Milo. Milo huddled in the corner of the seat, silent, visibly tense and shaken.

  “I’ll get them to start writing music for the tour. That should keep them busy,” Sam said.

  “If there’s going to be a tour, I won’t be on it,” said Rick

  “But we wanted to do it for you!” Sam cried.

  “I know, Sam, and I love you guys for it. But I’d rather spend some quiet time with my brothers, just being together like we used to, hanging around in our garage. That’s more appealing than enduring the rigors of the road, which I wouldn’t handle very well anyway. I’ve gotten my priorities straightened out. You, Milo, and Liam are what matter to me, not the band, the money, or the fame. I can’t take any of them with me. But your warmth and caring will get me through this with some dignity and purpose.”

  “Are you sure that is what you want?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay then. Let’s tell James to speed it up so we can stop Milo from giving himself an ulcer.”

  As soon as they reached the ER, Milo tried to reach Liam, but staff refused to let him in. He accosted the two cops standing guard. “My partner is in that cubicle. You have no right to keep me from him. He’s my family.”

  A subdued and grey-faced J.B. tried to talk Milo down. Sam quickly sized up the situation and headed over to speak to the chief security guard.

  * * * *

  To Liam’s great misfortune, they took the whole party to Monmouth Medical Center, which did not have a lockup ward for dangerous patients. Bart lay handcuffed to a bed in the cubicle two doors away. Liam feared that when Milo noticed, he would go ballistic. Liam was freezing. His body shook. He could not pour himself a glass of water without spilling it all over the floor and gurney. The triage nurse evaluated him when he first arrived, but two heart attack patients and one stroke victim came in on his heels.

  His shoulder hurt like hell and still bled sluggishly. The wound seemed jagged but not deep. He needed stitches; even so, if he waited much longer without Milo being able to get to him, he imagined Milo would have a stroke, heart failure, and a mental meltdown. He could hear the commotion in the waiting area and he could easily pick out Milo’s voice. He shouted louder than anyone else in the place. He had to do something before they arrested his lover for disturbing the peace.

  “Nurse,” Liam called in a pained voice. “I would appreciate being able to see my partner, Milo Stamis. Milo will be out of control until he actually can see with his own eyes that I am alive, if not well. If you ask one of the attending physicians, I’m sure they would give permission, just to restore order.”

  The nurse went running out to the corridor and whispered to her supervisor. Through the gap in the curtain, Liam could see the head nurse—who could have modeled for the Iron Maiden—stride with determination over to where the young doctor argued with Milo.

  * * * *

  The head nurse cornered the young doctor and said, “Dr. Wallace, this is an emergency room. Because this is your first rotation through my department, I’ve cut you some slack. However, at the moment, you are disturbing my patients and causing one of them great distress. Your job is to treat the patients, not police their visitors. If you feel incapable of doing your job, I will call the attending physician and see what he has to say.”

  The head nurse started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, Dr. Wallace, if you don’t let Mr. Stamis see his partner, every gay doctor and nurse in this hospital—and there are more of us than you know—will be out after your balls. Am I making myself clear?”

  Dr. Wallace stared at his head nurse in shock. Milo took the opportunity to beat feet into Liam’s room. Liam was still laying on the gurney, fully dressed and shivering.

  “Sam, J.B.,” Milo shouted. Both men made a beeline for the cubicle. “I don’t care if you have to get the head of the hospital, get someone in here to take care of my baby, and while you are at it, get a blanket. He’s cold. Has anyone checked on Joe? J.B., take Rick with you and make sure Joe is all right and that he gets seen right after Liam.”

  Milo turned his attention to Liam. “As soon as we get you released from this hell hole, we’re going home.” Then Milo started kissing his cheeks, eyes, and forehead. “Baby, if you ever put yourself in harm’s way like that again, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

  “Milo, he was going to hurt you,” Liam pointed out quite logically.

  “Liam, he did hurt you and that almost killed me.”

  A much older doctor, whose countenance conveyed experience and authority, opened the curtain. “Mr. O’Shea and Mr. Stamis, I’m Doctor Andros, Chief of Staff. I apologize for this series of fuck ups. If you could step away from the bed, Mr. Stamis, I’ll have a look at that wound.”

  “Thank God,” mouthed Milo to Liam.

  “The bullet is no longer lodged in Mr. O’Shea’s shoulder. I think we’ll find it either in the bed or on the ambulance floor. You’re a lucky man, Mr. O’Shea. It hit this bone at an angle and ricocheted away from your chest. That explains why the wound is so ragged.”

  Dr. Andros stuck his head out of the curtain and said, “Nurse, I need a sterile wound tray, stat.” The doctor removed Liam’s T-shirt and washed the area with an antibacterial soap. He painted it with iodine and applied butterfly sutures without having to resort to a needle.

  “Will there be a scar?” Liam asked anxiously.

  “Nothing that can’t be covered on stage by a bit of pancake makeup. By the way, I love the music you guys made together. Is there a possibility we will be seeing any more?”

  “I was just about to ask when you arrived, doc.”

  “Please don’t let me stop you, Mr. Stamis. Consider me a fly on the wall.”

  Milo chuckled. “As I told you, there will be no more stunts of that kind. I don’t manage very well without you. I’ve decided that you’re not leaving my side for the next seventy years.”

  “Would you say that was a marriage proposal, Dr. Andros?” Liam asked.

  “Sounded like it might be one, son. But I’d do a
little dickering just to make sure.”

  “Are the guys coming home with us? Rick’s going to need us and so will Sam when Rick passes. Joe’s pretty traumatized, and J.B. feels guilty for not being able to stop the bastard.”

  “Baby, how do you know this shit? I was out in the waiting room with them, and no one said anything to me.”

  “I just know, Milo. Oh, we should build the guys separate accommodations away from the main house. I’d feel kind of self-conscious chasing you around naked if the guys were lurking round every corner. Conchita is bad enough.”

  “Baby, are you coming home with me?”

  Liam winked at the doctor. “Can we have cats and horses? Will Rick be able to bring Kathleen and Mort?”

  “Don’t patronize me. I’m dead serious. I can’t live without you. I’m taking you home, and we’re going to get married like a nice normal couple. I’ll have Conchita’s relatives come and put up homes for the guys. We own over twenty acres and I have an option on three hundred additional acres. I’ll even see about getting a shrink to come up a couple of times a week. I think Joe is going to need one. And the rest of us have issues that need to be worked out.”

  “Yes, Milo.”

  “Yes, what?” Milo came back in impatience.

  “Yes to everything. The guys, the animals, the three hundred acres, but most of all, Milo, yes to you. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were a golden god come down from the mountain, just for me. Time hasn’t altered my opinion much.”

  As Dr. Andros quietly closed the curtain, Milo pulled Liam into his arms, taking great care not to disturb his wound.

  It wasn’t long before the tears came, tears for all they’d lost and would lose in the future, tears for what they’d missed, and lastly, tears for what they would never have.

  Epilogue

  It was a warm June morning on the Jersey shore. Two figures walked along Interlaken Beach, arm in arm, stopping for an occasional kiss. An Irish setter ran ahead, occasionally stopping to fetch the stick they took turns throwing. They reached an outcrop of rocks and sat down, dangling their feet in the water while the dog waded through the low tide.

  “Rick would have been proud of the tour, baby. The songs you wrote for him were evocative. If anyone doesn’t know that friendship is as necessary as love for the human psyche, it’s not for your lack of trying to spread the message.”

  “In the end, when it counted, Rick proved a true friend,” Liam said. “His work with Joe brought Joe back from the brink. The funeral was quiet, but dignified. I’m glad he decided to be buried in New Mexico. He was happy there those last few months. Do you think Sam should be going back to New York?”

  “Sam needs time to heal. He needs to lose himself in his business for a while. I can’t believe that you actually got J.B. and Joe to join the band.”

  “J.B. got bored with the security business, and Joe, I think he got tired of telling stories of life’s seamier side,” Liam answered.

  “So you finally got your sax player.” Milo laughed out loud.

  “Yeah, but we still need a drummer.”

  “I don’t think so,” Milo answered. “Sam will be back. He has his priorities straight now.”

  “What about us? Do we have our priorities straightened out?”

  “We just got married in Cape Cod, and we’re on our honeymoon in New Jersey, where we built a new beach cottage. How could you ask?”

  “I guess I’m asking if you still love me after all this time, or am I just a habit?”

  “Baby, you’re not a habit. You’re an addiction and have been since the moment we met.”

  “I’ll race you home,” Liam teased.

  “I’ll race you to bed,” Milo countered.

  Milo carried Liam into the bedroom. He undressed Liam slowly, kissing and licking each part he uncovered. Liam was more in a hurry. He pushed the T-shirt over Milo’s shoulders, followed swiftly by his belt and jeans. Liam placed his mouth exactly over his silk boxers. He carefully pulled down the boxers, with Milo’s help. He crawled to his knees and began to work his way up Milo’s legs with his mouth, placing kisses and soft caresses. When he finally reached the apex of his thighs he started licking the underside of Milo’s balls while moving his hands from their gentle caresses to a firm hold on Milo’s ass. He turned his lover and began to lick and bite Milo’s perineum. Soon his fingers began to roll Milo’s balls.

  Lost in his lovemaking, he didn’t hear Milo’s groans of pleasure. “Take me, Liam. I want to feel you so deep inside me that I can taste your balls.”

  They’d both been tested, so there was no need for protection. Liam grabbed the lube from the side table. Using his mouth, his thumbs, and his fingers to open the golden ass that held sexual ecstasy, he pushed in slowly.

  “Faster, harder! I love you so much, Liam, do not ever let me go!”

  They lay together in the aftermath. “Lord, Milo, I thought what we had before was wonderful.”

  “Hon, you are still hard.”

  “Yeah, that is for you. Baby, you surpassed my highest expectations the night we first made love.” He began to stroke Liam’s back, his touch turning sensual. He kissed his mouth and the nape of his neck. He kissed down the still hairless chest and nipped and sucked Liam’s beautiful nipples.

  He moved further down and rolled Liam on his back. “I can always come just watching your face.” Milo grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and lubed his huge cock well. Then he reached for more lube and began to ready Liam to take him.

  As he pushed inside he rubbed the hair on his chest over Liam’s. Liam roared with pleasure. “You can’t come yet,” Milo teased.

  “Milo!”

  Milo reached under the pillow. He slipped something on Liam’s finger, a brilliant gold ring with a square cut diamond flanked by two heart shaped rubies.

  Milo started to pound into him. Liam didn’t even have a chance to look. Milo came with an explosion that made Liam come too without Milo ever laying a hand on him.

  They lolled in bed for about an hour until time for their walk before dinner.

  As they walked down the beach in silence, arms around each other, obviously in love, two teenage boys stopped to look.

  “Isn’t that Milo and Liam of Shattered Glass? Yeah, it is. God help me, I want to be that much in love when I marry. They fought for their love, just as someday, we will have to fight for ours, Murphy.”

  “Tag, you’re it,” yelled one of the boys as they ran down the beach.

  The two celebrities watched from the rocks. Milo said, “I hope it’s easier for them.”

  Liam kissed him full on the mouth. “It will be, my darling, because of your bravery. I love you so.”

  Milo answered, “And I love you so much more.”

  THE END

  ABOUT A.C. KATT

  Author A.C. Katt passed away peacefully in her sleep on June 21, 2017. As many authors do, Mary Lynn Hansel (playfully) wrote under the pseudonym of A.C. Katt at the start of her literary career in 2007. Actually, A.C. took the name of the family cat. You know, the one that couldn’t resist the urge to bite any AC line cord that mistakenly snaked its way across the floor!

  Mary Lynn was born in NYC and grew up in Hazlet, NJ. A smart woman, she was once a contestant on the quiz show Jeopardy! Prior to 2003, she was a much in demand executive secretary with mid-sized New Jersey technical companies. Then a major illness almost ended her life. With her strong will to live and the support of her family, she recovered, but her illness didn’t leave her with enough stamina to continue her corporate ambitions.

  Mary Lynn was an avid (speed) reader all her life; she could inhale a 200 page novel in something less than 3 hours and call it an evening’s worth of entertainment! She especially enjoyed science and fantasy fiction, as well as bodice ripper and all manner of M/F romance novels. And she became somewhat of an expert on 15th–20th Century English history.

  Of cou
rse, all this entertainment didn’t come cheap—by 2006, she had accumulated well over 1,000 hardcover novels of her favorite books! At that point, her darling husband started grumbling about her $250/month book bill. So, by the end of her convalescence in 2006, he strongly suggested she should stop complaining about the (not so infrequent) trashy novels she read and instead use the time to write some of her own. Truth be known, she was continuing the family business. Her father John Welch was an engaging storyteller who would entrance her boyfriends with his stories. Also, during her high school and college days, Mary Lynn was fond of expressing her feelings in poetry and song lyrics.

  In 2008, A.C. and her husband relocated to Rio Rancho, NM, and she started her writing career in earnest. They found themselves a beautiful, 2,200 sq. ft. ranch with a huge kitchen and a backyard with an enchanting view of the Sandia Mountains. She wrote with passion and compassion about the LGBTQ community and connected with fans through her blogs. Her stories were filled with interesting characters and the plot lines always had an emphasis on character development. Also, while in NM, A.C. and her husband both loved to bake and cook, so her books always relied on tantalizing descriptions of food and locations. A.C. and her husband actively participated in Democratic Party events, hosting several successful political—you might call them dialing for dollars—gatherings.

  After 8 years in Rio Rancho, desiring to reconnect with family, Mary Lynn decided it was time to return to NJ. So she packed up the cat and the husband and took the 2,100-mile trip to her new home in Jackson, NJ. Finally, after 9 months of being surrounded by family, she was laid to rest under a large spreading oak tree in Freehold, NJ, on the northern edge of the Freehold Raceway Mall. Oh, did I mention she like to clothing shop?

  Family, friends, and fans will dearly miss this lovingly creative personality. She is survived by her husband of 29 years, their four children, ten grandchildren, and many fans. She authored 34 gay erotic romance titles in ten years and was a valued member of the LGBTQ literary world. On her tombstone are written the words:

 

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