by Sara Brookes
“Please let me help you, Davis.” Marcus turned his focus solely on his attacker. “There are programs out there to help you deal with whatever emotions you’re trying to deal with. They’ll even help you accept yourself.”
“I will never accept this.” Davis gave an inhumane howl as a boom of thunder split the air. “I need to be fixed. Make it so I’m not an abomination like you. Some freak. You need release, Marcus. Release from the ugly monster that makes you angry about the way you are.”
Davis was projecting, but as long as it kept his attention on Marcus, he wouldn’t notice Enver slowly creeping up behind him.
“Do it,” Marcus urged. “End this all for us right now so we can be free of our pain.”
“No,” Enver snapped with thunderous force. “You know better than to give orders, gorgeous.”
Son of a mother-lovin’ bitch.
He should have known Enver wasn’t going to make this easy. The sick wave of nausea swelled, but he did not have time for this shit. A new sort of panic expanded inside Marcus, worse than everything he’d experienced with the initial attack and the beating weeks ago. That had all just been him. Davis couldn’t kill Enver or Zoie—Marcus wouldn’t allow it.
Davis spun, clearly unsurprised to find they had a guest. He spit on the floor, growling at Enver. “You’re both disgusting creatures.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Enver countered. “We’re normal, average people who wash dishes, mow the lawn, yell at the television during Monday Night Football.” Enver’s fury-laced gaze cut to Marcus for a split second. “We have careers and wake up next to each other.”
Davis balled his hands into tight fists that shook from the force of his contained rage. “You fuck him.”
“I do. Quite well, I might add. He’s there for me just like I’m there for him. We love each other and there isn’t anything you or anyone else can do to keep us apart.” For a split second, Enver and Marcus were the only ones in the room.
Then Davis began to laugh maniacally and brought the horror of the situation back into focus.
* * *
Listening to Marcus negotiate with a madman had stilled Enver’s heart, turned his stomach inside out. But he recognized the technique. Marcus had been desperately trying to save the unredeemable. Davis aimed his unholy gaze directly at Enver. Good. If his focus wasn’t on Marcus, he couldn’t do any more damage.
Marcus wrenched at his bonds, metal scraping over stone. Any other time, that kind of sound would have been music to Enver’s ears.
Davis shot Marcus a stony glare. “Give up trying to escape, you pathetic excuse for a human. I knew he would find us. I didn’t make it hard to find us because I wanted him to come. I’m going to eliminate him too.”
With Davis distracted, Enver lunged, ramming into him with so much force they tumbled over the back of a sofa. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs. Davis rolled to his feet, spread his legs wide and tackled Enver before he stood upright.
Enver kicked out, blocking a punch. Undeterred, Davis came at Enver with a second blow, this one landing squarely on the jaw. Pain doubled Enver’s vision, but he shoved his elbow into Davis’s stomach, effectively pushing the other man away.
Davis stumbled, went to one knee, and sprang back up to slam his body into Enver’s. Both men fell hard to the floor, the pitifully thin carpet absorbing none of the shock. Enver rolled up, his back connecting hard with the column Marcus was chained to. Enver started to turn toward him, but a chilling scream wrenched his attention back to Davis.
He’d gotten Zoie in a chokehold, her pretty face a mask of terror now as he severed her air supply. Enver roared to life, using the animalistic sound to propel him forward. He aimed for Davis, but with his hold, Enver knew he was going to take them both down. No help for it. He drove into Davis with all the force he could muster, driving his fist hard into the attacker’s chest. Zoie rolled off at an angle, breaking free of the strong grip.
Davis’s breath came in short, wheezing gasps as he tried to get in a lungful of air. Enver struck, punching the man hard in the kidney. Davis stumbled, flailing his arms out to retaliate, but Enver followed with an uppercut that caused his eyes to roll back.
Hours of pent-up fury propelled Enver to yank Davis’s shirt collar to keep him from falling to the ground. The man swayed, but stayed upright thanks to Enver’s forceful grip. Enver drove his knee hard into the asshole’s groin once. Again. Once more just because it was so damn satisfying to feel and hear.
Enver landed another uppercut. Then another, the shocks of pain fueling his rage to hit harder and stronger. There was no finesse to the blows, nothing but brute strength as he pounded on the man who had tried to take so much from him.
“Stop, stop!” Zoie’s desperate, hoarse plea broke through the haze. “Killing him won’t make him pay. It’s too good for him.” She coughed a few times. “Too easy.”
“I’m not, but he deserves to pay for trying to take you both away.” Enver drew back his fist to strike again.
“Enver, stop.” The raspy plea from Marcus was the only thing that prevented Enver’s fist from making contact again.
Alarmed, Enver looked over to see the clear gaze of his lover through swollen eyes. Enver growled, knowing that if he went too far, Marcus would never forgive him. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself either.
He tugged Davis closer, putting their faces inches apart. He shook him a few times to guarantee he had his full attention. “I will do everything I can to make certain you are put in a cell with the most sadistic son of a bitch at the prison, who is going to make your life a living hell.”
Despite his better judgment, Enver released Davis and stepped away. He started toward Marcus, but he waved Enver off with a jerk of his head. “Check on Zoie first. I’m all right.”
Everything inside him called to Marcus, but he knew his lover would just argue with him to tend to his best friend. The last thing any of them needed was more tension. Enver crouched beside her. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
Zoie said nothing in response, clearly understanding the meaning of Enver’s appreciation.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked as he freed her.
She nodded, licking her lip. “I will be in a few. Go. I’ll take care of Davis.” She waved him off as she rolled to her back, sprawling out as she inhaled and exhaled a few times. “Need to contact dispatch.”
He handed over his phone. “Call it in.” Thankfully, she didn’t mention the fact that he should have called it in himself instead of blowing through like Hurricane Enver. He’d made a promise and the cops would have just gotten in his way.
Enver crossed to Marcus, his heart nearly stopping when he finally spotted the damage done to his back. More scarring he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. At least he wouldn’t have to look at those marks every minute of the day. Instead, Enver vowed to kiss every single one of them for the rest of his life in order to alleviate the painful reminders. He dug out the key he’d confiscated from Davis, but something else needed his attention first.
He stepped against Marcus, finally breathing easy for the first time since he’d discovered Marcus and Zoie had never made it to the house. Marcus leaned his forehead against Enver’s shoulder and exhaled. Enver held him, careful of the fresh wounds as he popped the lock.
“I need to sit down,” Marcus insisted breathlessly. “I’m going to be sick.”
Enver guided him to the floor, giving him support as he groaned. A sudden commotion over his shoulder had him glancing back. The sight that greeted him stopped his heart. Davis had tossed Zoie off and was struggling to stand.
“He’s got a gun!” Zoie yelled.
Enver threw himself over Marcus, turning his face just as a shot was fired. A hot streak of pain erupted across his back as the noise of someone fighting battled with the sudden ringing in his ears.
Another shot echoed through the space, and everything fell silent.
A few seconds later something surged underneath him and he realized he was crushing Marcus. He tried to move, but found his arms and legs were sluggish. Fuck, he hurt everywhere. Sick waves of pain ebbed and flowed through him. He finally managed to roll off, grunting as he sprawled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He told himself not being able to feel the floor under him wasn’t a bad thing.
Marcus’s face appeared overhead. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t make me slap you.” Enver’s head lolled to the side as he tried to see if Zoie was all right. “Need to help Zoie. Davis is going to hurt her too.” Gray edged his vision, taking up more and more of his eyesight.
“Zoie’s fine. She turned the gun on him.”
Enver felt a chill moving through his shoulders and back, radiating around to his chest.
“Enver. Enver!”
He blinked, but couldn’t focus.
“Don’t die on me, you fucker.”
“Won’t.” Despite the hazy vision, Enver saw Marcus’s face was wet with tears. He tried not to think about what that meant. Instead, he focused on something happier. “Who else is going to marry your stubborn, geeky ass?”
Shock registered in Marcus’s eyes. An instant later, Enver passed out.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Three days later, heart still in his throat, Marcus couldn’t stop pacing.
“You’re going to wear a pattern into the linoleum.” Enver growled when Marcus paused, shot both his middle fingers toward the bed and continued. Enver grumbled a few more times as Marcus made a full circuit of the room.
Marcus didn’t care. He hadn’t been able to sit still since they’d arrived at the hospital. Too much pent-up energy. Too much worry about things he had no control over. Too many what-ifs playing over and over in his head. Thanks to Zoie’s quick actions, Davis was no longer a threat to anyone. He truly was dead now. But that didn’t make this whole situation any easier.
Of course, Enver had been Mr. Calm and Cool the whole time, insisting he was perfectly fine and didn’t need medical attention as they’d been loading him into the back of an ambulance.
As Marcus shoved his way into the ambulance, he’d snapped at Enver to be quiet, which had promptly shut the obstinate Dom up.
A nurse appeared in the doorway, and Marcus’s heart leapt into his throat. “Did you need something, Mr. Furst?”
Enver pointed to Marcus, a scowl darkening his features. “Give him those sedatives you keep trying to shove down my throat every four hours.”
She smiled as she noted Enver’s vitals on a slip of paper she’d removed from her pocket.
“How is he?” Marcus asked, trying not to let his anxiety show. The nurse’s glare signaled he was doing a piss-poor job.
“Perfectly fine, just as I told you two hours ago. And two hours before that.” She folded her arms over her generous midsection, looking every bit the authority figure. “You know, the cafeteria is serving chicken noodle soup today as the special. It’s one of the more popular menu items. You should give it a try.” She huffed at his scowl and drew herself up to her full height, which was several inches above Marcus’s. “Strapping young boy like yourself needs to keep his strength up.”
Marcus recognized the not-so-subtle order to get out of the room. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” His stomach growled as he realized he hadn’t eaten today. He’d been too busy worried about Enver to consider the need for food.
As he made his way to the first floor, he remembered pacing the halls as Enver had been in surgery. Remembered the terror that had nearly choked him every time the doors to the surgical ward had opened. Davis had gotten in a clean shot, so the bullet had still ended up lodged in Enver’s upper back just inches from his spine. The skilled doctors had been able to remove the slug with minimal damage, allowing the wound to heal cleanly with little scarring.
Marcus’s phone rang and he drew it out of his pocket right away, worried something had happened in the few minutes he’d been gone. He was already making his way back to the elevator bank when he saw who it was.
“Hey, cupcake.” He relaxed, slowing his pace and detoured away from the elevators. “How are you feeling?”
“Marginally human again thanks to several scalding hot showers and my marvelous room-darkening blinds.” She yawned, the sound of sheets rustling coming over the speaker. “I may even leave the house today.”
Marcus smiled. He already owed Zoie his thanks for ten years’ worth of guidance and friendship, but now he knew he could never repay her for being the one to save Enver’s life. Without her quick thinking, the bullet could have hit dead center and made mincemeat out of Enver’s insides. Then he’d be pacing the halls of a funeral home instead.
“How’s your man?” she asked around another yawn.
“Grumbly as ever. Doctors say he should be able to go home soon.” Marcus leaned against a wall and noticed he was outside the hospital chapel.
“Best place for him to recover is at home and being cared for by the love of his life. Think of all the sponge baths.” She groaned. “Wait, scratch that, now I’m thinking of them.”
“Need a nurse of your own?”
“No. I’m thinking about the two of you,” she mumbled. “Monumentally not fair.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged when Enver is feeling better.” Marcus smiled again as she swore loudly. Teasing her was a cherished moment. If things with Davis had taken a different turn...
“Now that that image is burned into my brain, how are you, Marcus? Really?”
He let his guard down because it was Zoie. At least partially. “Barely holding it together. But I’ll be all right. Each day gets better as he does.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Marcus paused. “As strange as it sounds, it helped me get closure. Davis won’t be able to hurt anyone else. I never wished for him to die even though I hated him for everything he did to me, but—”
“I get it,” she interrupted. “No reason to explain the details. You’re not going to flake out of group now that this is all over, are you?”
“Fuck no.” Just because Davis was dead didn’t mean the process of healing from the original attack was over. He was certain he’d get better a little each day, but also convinced it would always hang over him.
“I’m glad he’s okay. That you’re going to be okay, too. You deserve it. And him. We should all be so lucky.” She cleared her throat, clearly caught up in the emotion of the moment. “I need to go. Call in so I can let Sarge know when I’m coming back to work. I’ll stop by the hospital tomorrow on my way in.”
“Don’t rush it, okay?” Marcus knew she would. Zoie’s personality wouldn’t allow her to sit for too long on one thing. She needed to feel useful and productive. Do something with her hands or she became restless. “Could always take another few days and come give Enver a few of those sponge baths.”
“Fucker.” She laughed. “I love you.”
Marcus eyed the chapel doors as he ended the call with Zoie, walking forward and entering the room. Couldn’t hurt to say a few more prayers.
* * *
The soft knock on the door caused Enver to tense for a split second. He hated that sensation. Though he knew it would go away eventually, that uneasy feeling kept him on edge. Now he was the one looking over his shoulder.
“Come in.” He cleared his throat, tried again.
Zoie peeked in. “Not interrupting you guys, am I?”
He gestured her forward as he readjusted the angle of the bed. “I was just enjoying a few moments of peace and quiet.”
She snapped her fingers as she stepped inside. “Well, damn, I must have missed the orgy.”
“That was at three.” He glanced to the
display on the muted television set. “But if you stick around, I’m sure I can call a few friends who would be really happy to put on a show for you.”
Her bright peal of laughter was just the medicine he needed. As much as he loved Marcus, the man had gotten downright morose since Enver had taken the bullet. Marcus had finally conceded to going home the night before, after a rousing argument that had left Enver exhausted. Something was still off that he couldn’t put his finger on.
She set her hand over his. “You look tired.”
“They keep waking me up every few hours to poke and prod at me. Makes no damn sense ’cause all they keep telling me is to get some rest. Ready to get out of here,” he added with a heavy sigh.
She shook her head. “Surprised they haven’t discharged you yet.”
“Supposed to break out of here tomorrow. Be nice to sleep in my own bed.” Eat whenever he wanted. Shit whenever he felt like it instead of when they told him to in those absurdly tiny cups they kept bringing.
“Marcus actually left you alone for a few minutes?”
Not without a struggle. “I managed to convince him to go home to sleep, take a shower and get a fresh change of clothes. Pretty sure the nurses were ready to throw him out if he didn’t leave. He went, but reluctantly. First night of good sleep I’ve managed since they checked me in.” As much as he hated to admit, it was the truth.
Her eyebrows drew together. “I’m monopolizing your alone time. I’ll stop by when you’re settled at home.”
He caught her hand, tugging her back to the bed when she tried to leave. “Sit.” He put force behind the single word, knowing she could be just as stubborn as her best friend and would need the push.
“Well.” She blinked, bright spots of color dotting her cheeks as she sat. “Certainly didn’t affect that part of your personality, did it?”
He gave her a wicked grin that made her blush deepen. “I need you to do something for me.”
“As long as it’s not connected to that look you’re giving me,” she challenged, skepticism ripe in her tone. “The one I’m sure has made countless lovers throw themselves at your feet.”