Krewe Daddy

by Margie Church

  "Is there a problem, Officer?"

  "Better not be. You're on the approved list."

  Luis got to his feet, tossed his manners aside, and almost bolted down the hall to Drew's room. Outside the door, he paused. A nurse was talking to Drew.

  He sounds good. God, I've missed his voice.

  Movement behind him caught his attention. Luis glanced backward to see Kyle LaMontagne coming toward him, wearing very pissed off expression.

  Kyle crooked his finger at Luis.

  No fucking way. He stepped into Drew's room. "Good morning."

  Drew's eyes widened. "You're here. You found me!"

  Luis walked to him, careful not to break eye contact. "Finally. I missed you more than I can say."

  "Get away from him." Kyle's stern command shattered their joyous reunion like a wrecking ball on fine china.

  Ignoring the demand, Luis kissed Drew's cheek, and then rested his head in the slope of Drew's shoulder for an instant. "It's so good to see you."

  "I said leave him alone, Herrera."

  A burning desire to send Kyle to an early grave filled Luis. This isn't the time or the place for a street brawl. He straightened and grasped Drew's left hand. "Why should I?"

  "You're no good for him."

  Drew flipped through his cards to find Kyle's. "I'm in the room, you know, Kyle.

  Out of my coma, talking, taking nourishment."

  "I was hoping you would get released from this place before he found you." Kyle glared at Luis. "I can't believe how incompetent the police are."

  "I wanted him to be here." Drew shuffled through his card deck. "Teak and Kevin finally told me his name."

  Drew squeezed Luis' hand. "They were the only ones who understood how important seeing you was to me."

  His voice had taken on a husky tone. He looked at Luis. "I can't remember your name, but I remember who you are and what we once meant to each other."

  Luis nodded, and then returned his attention to Kyle. "I think you're the one who needs to get out. Obviously, Drew and I have a lot to talk about and plans to make."

  Kyle scoffed. "Plans? He's going to a memory-care unit. A jazzed-up nursing home. Are you ready for that?"

  "I'm in the room, Kyle, and my plans with . . . ."

  "Luis."

  "My plans with Luis are my own. I'd like you to leave."

  Kyle looked like he'd been slapped. "Are you kidding me? After everything Skeeps and I have done to protect you from him?" He pointed at Luis. "How many times do I have to tell you this guy has ruined your life? Kick his egotistical ass out of here now. You've taken your last spanking from the Daddy."

  Drew didn’t move a muscle or say a word.

  "I'm not going anywhere unless Drew tells me to." Luis looked at him and spoke in a quiet voice. "Say the word and I'm gone. I want you to be happy and recover. If having me out of your life is what will help you get that, I'll do it. No arguments."

  "Do you want to leave?"

  The vulnerable look on Drew's face, in his voice, made Luis feel like a soccer ball lodged in his throat. "No."

  "You sure? I'm a mess." His eyes searched Luis'.

  "I want to take you home with me. I've arranged for a leave of absence from Magik Studios. I've got plenty of space, and it'll be easier to move around there in your wheelchair than in your apartment. The building is secure, and we'll add more security if we need to."

  "This has to be the busiest time of the year for you with . . . ." Drew snapped his fingers.

  "Mardi Gras?"

  "Yes, with Mardi Gras coming up."

  "It's a busy season, and my job is important, but let me worry about those things.

  You're what's most important to me right now."

  "Oh, please. You two are really pathetic."

  Luis glared at Kyle. He wanted to wipe the sneer off his face and stuff it down his throat. "You're still here. I've had staph infections that were easier to get rid of."

  "Fun-ny. I'll take a line from your playbook." He looked at Drew. "Want me to leave?"

  Drew answered without hesitation. "Yes. I've always liked you, and I've appreciated how you've tried to help me these past weeks." He looked through his cards until he found the paper Teak had written Luis' name on. "The more I think about it, the more I think you deliberately kept Luis in the dark about me. You wanted me to think his relationship with me was in the past. Dead and buried. But the one that's over for good is my relationship with you."

  Kyle blanched. "You ungrateful, mindless wonder."

  Luis closed the distance between him and Kyle in three, long steps. "Get out, before I throw you out. Officer?"

  The man in blue opened the door. "Is there a problem?"

  "Show Agent LaMontagne out."

  "And take what's-his-name off the visitor's list, too."

  Luis smiled at Drew. "You heard the man."

  The officer frowned, but didn't argue. "This way, Agent."

  When the door closed behind the policeman, Luis turned to Drew. All the things he'd wanted to say escaped him.

  Drew seemed to sense his anxiety. "It's just you and me, kid."

  Luis smiled. "You're just saying that because you can't remember my name."

  Drew burst out laughing. "Yeah, that's true." He looked at Luis, his eyes gleaming with tears. "You still want me to come home with you? It's a huge burden."

  "I do. More than ever." Luis explained how he'd searched half the state for him.

  "Thank God that Teak and Kevin are men of integrity, or I wouldn't be standing here."

  "I can't believe you are." Drew clasped his hand. "When you walked through the door was the first time I've felt happy or optimistic since this happened to me." His expression turned worrisome. "Are you sure you want me at your place, though? I can't do much of anything for myself until one of these casts come off. You have some ideas about the memory problems, but there's more."

  Luis pressed a finger on Drew's lips. "Shh. We'll talk to your doctors and get things arranged. You can have therapy at my place, and a nurse come in or stay.

  Whatever you need to get back on your feet; I want to help you."

  Tears welled in Drew's eyes. He wiped them with the back of his hand.

  "Give me one of those things, will you?" He pointed at the tissue box. Accepting a few from Luis, he said, "Thanks. I hope you won't regret this decision. It could be hell."

  The words that haunted Luis were in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue. If he didn't say them now, he was afraid he might never have the courage. "I blame myself for what happened to you."

  Drew looked flabbergasted. "That's ridiculous. Why?"

  "If I hadn't been such a fool, I would have met you at the airport."

  "I drove myself. That would have been stupid."

  "I could have met your flight. Instead, I sent you angry text messages. I shouldn't have waited another second to apologize about the misunderstanding about Blair."

  Drew chewed the corner of his lip. "Will you write his name down so I can add that to my stack?"

  Luis did as he was asked.

  "Nothing happened with Blair. And even if you had met me at the airport, the Retribution gang had it in for me. They—" Drew's eyes widened. His expression registered shock.

  "Are you okay? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

  "Did you hear what I said? What name did I say?"

  "Blair."

  He shook his head, frustration in his voice. "No! The other name. What gang did I say?"

  "Retribution. Oh my god, Drew, did they do this to you?"

  * * * * *

  "They did." The enormity of the revelation stunned Drew. "What—?"

  Drew held his hand up to silence him. "Let me think. Maybe something else will come." He closed his eyes. "One guy talking to me."

  "Where?"

  "Flat tire. Where they found my truck." The memory of a strong scent puzzled Drew. "It's dark. Something stinks, really bad. Can't breathe." He opened his eye
s. "I'm going to be sick. Quick!"

  * * * * *

  The aides asked Luis to wait outside while they bathed Drew and changed his bedding.

  Dipping in and out of sleep, Drew was beyond exhausted. He couldn't wait to get back into bed; his head rolled against his shoulders. As his broken bones and other injuries healed, the aides maneuvered him more easily. Even in his sleep-fogged state, Drew reminded himself that he'd need to work hard to get well if he was going home with Luis. The thought made him smile.

  "What's so funny?" The aide lifted Drew's arm over his shoulder, while another steadied him onto the mattress.

  "I was just thinking about leaving this place."

  "That's the right attitude." The dark-haired aide pulled a light blanket over Drew.

  "I can't wait."

  Drew perked up at the sound of Luis' voice. "I hope you still think it's a good idea in a couple weeks."

  "No worries. I talked to the officer on duty. They're sending over some detectives with the district attorney from New Orleans to talk to you."

  Drew could barely keep his eyes open. "Too tired. Later."

  The aide closed the window shades. "Let's let him sleep. Hopefully by the time everyone else gets here, he'll be in better shape."

  "Do you mind if I wait in here with him?"

  The aide shrugged. "Suit yourself."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Four days later, Luis stood in the middle of his apartment. He barely recognized the place. Anything that would prevent Drew from maneuvering with his wheelchair had been put in temporary storage. The spare bedroom had been transformed into a mini-hospital room for his convenience. A nurse was hired to be with him all day, and Luis would manage the night shift. Therapists were scheduled, and Luis was trained to deal with Drew's seizures and other medical needs.

  Luis also scheduled his own therapy, to help him cope with his new demands and the realities of his future relationship with Drew. The man he loved might never be the same again. Luis had to admit, having Drew move in was turning his life upside-down. And Drew wasn't even home from the hospital yet.

  Luis glanced at his watch. The private ambulance should be leaving St. Augusta's soon.

  Once Drew remembered that members of the Retribution gang had attacked him, bits and pieces of the event came back to him with more clarity. Of all the names Drew couldn't remember, that was the only one he could. He was sure three people had thrown him in the back of the car, yet he remembered a fourth person being there, too.

  There'd been a flurry of activity to try to jog Drew's memory for more specific details, but so far, nothing had surfaced. Faces were blurred, according to Drew, and looking at police photographs did nothing. But he remembered what the attackers said, and the detail with which he described their brutality made Luis sick to his stomach. Extra security was stationed outside the apartment door and at the main floor residents'

  security station.

  If everything went well, his doctors said that by Thanksgiving, Drew would be in a walking cast. Some semblance of normal could return to the apartment. Luis could see how hard Drew was working on his memory issues. The proper medication helped control the seizures, and Drew seemed to be getting better at recognizing the onset of one. How long will it take before he doesn't have them at all? Once Drew was up and walking on his own, Luis worried he'd have a seizure and hurt himself again.

  The physical therapist had stopped by yesterday afternoon to make sure everything he needed was available, and tried to allay Luis' fears.

  "Stuff might happen, no matter how hard you try. We'll deal with it," the therapist had said.

  Luis sighed. Even though it was barely eleven, Luis could have used a stiff drink.

  * * * * *

  That evening, Drew's nurse, Nate, got him ready for bed while Luis looked on.

  Being told what to do was a lot different from experiencing it for himself.

  "I should be good for the night." Drew looked exhausted. The trip up here, and all the activity of getting him settled, had clearly worn him out.

  Luis was ready to hit the sack, too. His head pounded from the countless requests and questions that were asked and answered.

  "Do you need anything else before I leave?" Nate eyed his new patient.

  "I'm fine. I want to go to sleep and get out of Luis' hair."

  "Okay, I'll be back at six. We need to keep you on a—"

  "I know, a regular schedule. Jesus, this isn't my first day being an invalid."

  Luis looked at Nate. "I think I can manage. I'll show you out."

  They walked through the living room together. "He hasn't had many troubles at night. His meds really knock him out. Keep the bed rails up, and he'll probably still be asleep when I get back."

  Luis opened the apartment door for Nate. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

  Drew was still awake when Luis returned. "It's going to take some time to get a routine down."

  "Believe me, the hospital people are experts at being drill sergeants."

  "You sound pissed."

  Drew let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm not really. Well, I am about one thing."

  Luis pulled up a chair. "What?"

  "I feel like a burden. I'm a lot of work. Like a damn newborn in some ways."

  "You need to get over that. Bringing you here was my idea. There are bound to be some bumps until we get used to each other." Luis rubbed his forehead, the throbbing in his temples increasing by the moment. "I won't kid you; all of this is overwhelming right now, but you're getting better every day, and I'll get used to helping you do whatever needs doing. You're not a guest. This is your home for the foreseeable future. So, let's work together to get you on your feet and back in control of your life."

  "When I told those two to find you . . . ."

  "Teak and Kevin?"

  "Yeah, I never expected you to ask me to live with you. It was the furthest thing from my mind." He paused, seeming to need to collect himself. "But I really hated the idea of living in a nursing home. That would have been a death sentence. When they told me where I was going, I wanted to curl up in a ball and shut the world out."

  "But you're here, and this is where you're going to stay until you can take care of yourself."

  Worry filled Drew's eyes. He cleared his throat. "But what if I can't ever live independently again? They don't know how this brain injury is going to heal. I might be retiring at thirty-five. I didn't win the lottery."

  His voice fell to a whisper. "You could end up hating me." He wagged his hand between them. "Hating this."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. This is our first official night as a couple."

  "A couple of nuts."

  Luis shrugged.

  "If this situation or I get to be too much for you, promise me you'll tell me before you lose your mind or can't stand the sight of me."

  "You have my word." Luis rose. "Now go to sleep. I'm going in the living room to drink heavily."

  Drew chuckled. "Nice. Thanks a heap for nothing."

  "Hey, I looked at some of your prescriptions. You're sailing just fine without the booze."

  "I'd trade all of it in a heartbeat."

  "I know you would. Call me if you need me."

  Luis went straight to the liquor cabinet and cracked open the Grey Goose. A handful of ice slid into the tumbler. The sound of his favorite vodka filling the glass was heaven-sent.

  His face reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows. What have I gotten myself into?

  He took a deep drink of the booze and hoped it would numb the panic, which, at the moment, was paralyzing.

  Luis glanced toward Drew's bedroom and sent up a silent prayer that he'd sleep through the night. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to bed at nine, unless he was sick. Tonight he felt bone-weary. He poured another splash of vodka in his glass and was grateful for his upcoming therapy session. I think I'm going to need it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Five weeks l
ater, Drew hobbled up to the dining room table for dinner. He pulled out the upholstered chair, always mindful of how weak his right arm was.

  Though out of the cast, his arm had a long way to go before it was fully healed and strong again.

  His left ankle remained in a walking cast. The physical therapist was optimistic about Drew's progress, but Drew was scared shitless that he'd have a permanent limp.

  At least he was out of that blasted wheelchair. The day Nate the Nurse walked out the door was a good day, in Drew's opinion.

  Drew sat down and placed the napkin on his lap. "This is my favorite time of the day."

  Smiling, Luis put a generous portion of fish and chips on Drew's plate. "Why?"

  "Everything is done. The therapists and everyone else coming and going have finally left us in peace." Drew cut a piece of catfish. "Doesn't hurt that you're such a fantastic cook, too." He popped the golden morsel in his mouth.

  Luis sprinkled malt vinegar on his fish and chips. "I'm glad you approve. I've enjoyed cooking again. Before you moved in, I never seemed to have enough time or feel like fussing just for myself." He raised his glass of Abita beer. "Cheers."

  Drew lifted his glass of chocolate milk. "I'll trade ya."

  Luis shook his head. "No thanks."

  "I miss having a drink."

  Luis paused in mid-sip. "I could get rid of all the alcohol, if that would make you feel better."

  Any other person might have appreciated Luis' consideration, but Drew thought it sounded like he was taking pity. "I wasn't asking for that. I just stated a fact."

  Anger passed in Luis' eyes. "Then I'll keep drinking." He took another sip of beer.

  Drew tossed down his cloth napkin. "What are you getting out of this? I'm holding your life hostage. You gave up your apartment, job, social life, and even your love life. Even those two guys postponed their wedding because of me. For what?"

  Luis dabbed a steak fry in ketchup. "Are we really going to go through this again?" He shoved back from the table. "I wanted to help you, and I'm going to keep doing it until you don't need me anymore. Can we please enjoy our dinner and not fight again tonight? We've recently had enough of those, in my opinion."