What am I doing?
He pressed his lips together. Obviously, he was attracted to Slade. Slade was either attracted to him too or was simply very needy and scared. It probably meant that if Parker allowed himself to get too attached to Slade emotionally, he was going to end up with a heaping dose of crushing heartbreak. He figured it probably served him right for hurting Brett—even if he hadn’t meant to.
He remembered what Beau had said about not giving Slade hope where there was none. He took a deep breath, certainty filling him more than it had since he’d first stumbled upon the scared young man out on the Strip. He would be there for Slade however Slade needed. If that meant that he only wanted friendship or a mentor or whatever—even if it was only temporarily—Parker would gladly fill that role and not expect anything else.
“You’re all kinds of interesting tonight, McLean.”
The drone of the scanner had been the backdrop to Parker’s thoughts and he’d completely tuned out the fact that Darren was in the cruiser with him as well.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m pretty exhausted. I haven’t had much sleep.”
“So I heard.”
Parker straightened in his seat. “Excuse me?”
“It’s spread all over the station. Everyone’s been asking me about it.”
“What has spread?”
Sounds like I have a fucking disease or something.
“That you stayed at the hospital with Slade.”
Parker wasn’t sure how to respond. His first concern was that Sergeant Lopez would think he’d been lying when he’d spoken with him about Slade and the nature of their relationship. It would be tough to explain that.
“Okay. So I stayed at the hospital with him for a few hours. Who cares?”
Darren gazed out of his side of the window. “Quite a few people, apparently. Sure is hard to control the gossip at that place. Yup. Helps if the people who’ve always had your back know what the fuck is going on.”
Parker couldn’t control a heavy sigh. “Look, Darren, this is all very sudden for me as well and I honestly don’t know what’s happening or what might happen. All I do know is that I can’t abandon him right now. He deserves a shot at a decent life if nothing else.”
Darren turned to consider him. “And where do you fit into that picture?”
“I don’t know if I do. But I’ll be there for as long as he needs me.”
Darren shook his head. “This all sounds like a horrible made-for-cable TV drama in the making.”
Parker grunted, tired of all the heaviness of the week. “Hey. I happen to like made-for-cable dramas. There’ve been some really good ones.”
He chanced a sly peek at Darren and was relieved to see his buddy grinning. Darren glanced over at him. “You’re an idiot.”
“Probably.”
A call came through asking for all units to respond to a multiple homicide at a motel nearby.
Fuck. The Deuces Wild.
Parker flipped the lights and siren on, jetting across town on the back roads to get to the scene as quickly as possible. One unit had already arrived when they got there. When both he and Darren checked with them, they explained that they’d been notified by a terrified john who’d shown up to a party date, only to discover three women and two of his friends hacked up in the room. The man was hysterical. The officers were staying with him until a med unit and the detectives arrived. Parker and Darren got busy taping off the scene.
Within minutes multiple responders had arrived. The last vehicle to get to the scene was Beau’s sedan. He unfolded his long frame from his car and acknowledged Parker with a jerk of his chin. They all performed their respective duties as per usual, but Parker was more than a little anxious to find out what was going on. He had no business being a part of anything to do with the investigation, but because of Slade he felt he needed to know.
Right as Beau looked about ready to leave, he gestured Parker over. When Parker drew closer, Beau stepped behind his sedan away from everyone else nearby.
“I just wanted you to know that I had a chance to speak to Slade for a few minutes today once Nurse Ratched let me through.”
Parker regretted that he hadn’t been there. Slade had probably been so scared.
“Does he remember anything?”
“The men who hurt him were Russian.”
Parker inhaled sharply. So Alexei had been targeting Slade after all.
“But that’s not all. Slade knew nothing about the pimp war going on or that he was any type of specific target—and I think it should stay that way.”
“God, yes. Agreed.”
“When I spoke with him about Julio, he was upset at first, but seemed to realize that it was the right thing to do by talking about him. He told me that a guy who’d been one of his regulars with Julio had ended up dead after offering to buy Slade from him.”
Parker grimaced. It was all so disgusting.
Beau paused, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should continue. “He asked about you, wanted to know if you were for real and if I thought you would ever come back. I think those painkillers are making him unusually forthright. I wouldn’t expect that from him once he recovers.”
“You say that like you expect me to be around when he does.”
“He already has an affection for you regardless of what it’s based on. I had hoped you still planned on being around.”
“What did you say to him?”
“That you were a good guy and that he could trust you. Was I wrong?”
“I’m gonna make damn sure you aren’t.”
“That’s what I thought, but I wanted to verify we were on the same page.” Beau clapped Parker on the shoulder. “I hope it all works out for you both.”
Parker smiled wistfully. “Me too.”
* * * *
It had been over a week since the attack and both Parker and Beau had been in several times to see him. He’d hated and distrusted cops for so long that sometimes he had to stop and remind himself what amazing men they both were.
Based on what he’d been told by Beau, Julio was missing. Rita and a few of Julio’s henchmen had been arrested, but everyone else had scattered. It seemed incomprehensible to Slade that Julio would just run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Beau had also questioned him a few different times about the Russian men who’d nearly beaten him to death. Slade had the impression that there was something about his attack that Beau wasn’t sharing.
And there was something else very important that was bothering him and that he was afraid to say anything about. Had Valeena gotten away? Was Samson really in love with her, or was he involved with Slade’s attack? Had he used her in some way and maybe hurt her? He teared up as his thoughts took him to uglier places. Or killed her? It was driving him crazy not knowing.
Fortunately, his thoughts were taken up by Parker much of the time. He really liked him. Like liked him. He thought there was a chance that Parker might feel the same. It was hard to believe that someone as nice and handsome as the cop would show up every day at the hospital if there wasn’t more there than a casual interest. Why would Parker hold Slade’s hand and talk with him for hours unless he felt something more?
He adjusted his fractured arm and winced. They’d been weaning him off the painkillers. It had been explained to him that he couldn’t go home until he was done with them. They would give him a prescription for less potent ones when he was ready.
Home. That’s a laugh.
Beau had assured him that they would hook him up with a county agency that could provide him with temporary housing, and food and clothing vouchers until he could get on his feet. When Slade had asked if he would still have police protection, Beau had changed the subject. Slade had hustled for enough years to recognize that what Beau wasn’t saying was his answer. Once Slade left the hospital, he’d be on his own. A walking target.
He knew Julio would want to take him down because Slade would be able to identify and implicate him in Harold’s
murder. Then there were the mysterious Russian men who’d wanted to kill Slade. That was as confusing as hell to him since he had no idea why. The only thing he’d been able to come up with during his long lonely hospital hours was that it had something to do with Julio. Like some sort of payback. He’d certainly heard Julio bitch enough times about the Russians stealing his clients.
He wiggled in the bed. It had been his third day of walking around and his first by himself. It was a good thing, but it had worked muscles that hadn’t been used since they’d been brutalized by two psychos. A thought passed through his mind that they should’ve saved the heavy-duty painkillers until after he’d begun jostling everything around in his body.
Glancing at the wall clock, he saw that it was almost two. The nurses would be changing shifts soon, which meant he could probably grab a nap undisturbed. The staff would be busy elsewhere. Then he’d be rested up for when Parker came by at three. He always stayed until he had to leave for work at seven. Sometimes he’d go and pick up something special for them to have for dinner together.
It was a really nice thing to do because he always got things like steak or pasta, things he rarely ever had unless he was on a date with some rich guy who wanted to flaunt him around town. It wasn’t the same as sharing it with Parker. The only thing he didn’t like about it was that it meant he missed out on some time with the cop. He loved the time they spent together. They both dug lowbrow comedies, so there’d been some movie watching. Parker also loved to read—something Slade hadn’t indulged in since he’d been kicked out.
In the beginning, he’d hung out at the library whenever he could. Once he’d had trouble keeping clean and had been on the streets for the most part, he’d been too embarrassed to go back. There’d always been the chance that he might’ve run into someone he knew from school and that would’ve been too humiliating. But Parker had resurrected the love of reading in him, bringing some of his own books from home for Slade to enjoy. They had both agreed that Stephen King’s The Stand was the best of King’s books—the uncut version, of course. Slade had been working his way through that one for the past couple of days.
Parker.
He closed his eyes and pictured the man’s chiseled features, his soft brown eyes, his wavy dark brown hair. How strong yet gentle Parker’s hands were when he’d lace their fingers together. His eyes flew back open. He was hard. Heat flooded his cheeks, a few beads of sweat breaking out on his upper lip. It wasn’t that he’d never stroked one out since being with Julio, but it had only been to relieve tension. He’d rarely ever come with a client unless it was part of the request. He hadn’t had an orgasm for his own pleasure in ages. It was uncomfortable to feel such a thing after so long—the desire, the need.
Fuck.
He couldn’t take care of himself in the bed, he’d be found out. He only had one option and that was to get into the bathroom. He’d always called for help when he needed to get out of bed, but there wasn’t the slightest chance he was going to under the current circumstances. He had walked on his own that day, though. His cock throbbed at the mere suggestion that he might take his hand to it. That decided things.
He gingerly rolled onto his side then pulled himself to a sitting position. Even though he’d viewed his limbs many times since the attack, it was still a sobering sight. Most of the bruises had faded to hues of green and yellow, only a few remaining red or purple. He’d been lucky that the only real broken bone he’d received had been in his left forearm.
But the one thing he hated more than the way his body looked was his face. He hadn’t been shown a mirror until the third day and that had been horrible enough. It was difficult to believe that it had been worse than that. Thankfully, the eye that had been swollen shut was almost back to normal. There was still a disturbingly dark bruise around the socket, which the doctors had said was caused by a slight hairline fracture. All in all, they insisted he was lucky. By curling into a ball, he’d protected his organs for the most part. He’d had bruised kidneys, but the doctors had said they had both since healed.
Dragging the annoying IV pole with him, he made it to the bathroom with little mishap other than the mild pain that was still building. His erection of steel didn’t care—it had been too long since he’d nutted and having such a sexy man around him all week had turned out to be the final straw.
Distressingly out of breath, he managed to get inside the confined space without knocking the pole over or landing on his ass. He giggled.
Shouldn’t think about ass.
He’d been treated to Parker’s tight round butt more than once when he’d bent over to pick up something that had fallen over or when he’d reached up to adjust the television. Yes. Parker McLean had a fine ass. He doubted the guy would ever want to be fucked—he seemed kinda toppy—but Slade could dream. And, boy, did he ever want to dream.
He shut the door and slid the lock home. Getting completely undressed and unhooked from the IV pole to take a full shower was a lame option, so he went for second best. He tugged on the ties at the back of his gown with his one good hand, then pulled it away until it hung from his IV tubing. He leaned against the shower wall, facing in.
God damn it. Lotion would’ve been good.
He glanced around to survey his choices. There were none. Pre-cum leaked from his heated shaft and he figured that was the best he’d be able to do.
Fuck it.
He licked his palm, then wrapped his fist around his hardened length, smearing his own stickiness around the spongy tip, then slicking the rest of his juices down his rigid flesh. His thoughts filled with images of Parker again, only this time he pictured him naked and stretched out leisurely on a bed. His thighs were spread, his full dick straining against his belly. He smiled at Slade with his wonderful inviting smile.
As Slade stroked himself faster, harder, he knew it wouldn’t last—but it felt so damn good. He wanted to get to the part of his fantasy where he took Parker’s ass, so he eased off a bit. In his mind’s eye, Parker lifted his legs at his knees, opening himself up to Slade, offering him his hole.
Jesus. Too hot.
Slade’s breathing sped up. He fast-forwarded to the moment where he sank into Parker’s gripping heat in one long, satisfying move. He squeezed himself almost to the point of pain, desperate to mimic what it might be like to move inside Parker’s tight passage. In his fantasy, Parker told Slade how incredible it felt, how he wanted Slade to fuck him all the time, how he loved his big cock.
“Oh, fuck!”
He’d cried out before he could stop himself, shooting ropes of cum against the shower wall and along the bottom, his climax hitting him like a freight train. Stroking himself softly through the aftermath, he milked the last of his jizz. He let go of his flaccid member to steady himself, a bit of dizziness threatening to overcome him. His arm ached and so did his lower back. It was frustrating that such a small amount of effort could still wipe him out.
Refusing to give in to any melancholy after such a wonderful moment, he redirected his thoughts to cleaning up. After holding his gown out of the way, he turned on the shower head, directing it to the areas he’d marked. Once he was satisfied he’d done a good enough job, he shut the water off then straightened out his gown.
Hmm. Didn’t think this all the way through.
Untying the minimal garment had been one thing. Retying it behind his back with only one hand would be impossible. He sighed and gave in to the inevitability of having to hold it closed behind him with his good one, and steer the pole with his bad one. He heard someone come into the room. Either Parker was early or the nurse was checking on him. He hoped it was the nurse—having Parker tie up his open covering with his gaze trained on Slade’s bruised butt wasn’t something he wanted to share with him. If Slade ever got the chance for Parker to view his ass, he wanted it to be when he looked decent.
He heard the TV go on. It was on the loud side, so he was sure that it wasn’t the nurse. Maybe he could make it into his bed witho
ut Parker getting too much of a view. Right as he undid the lock, the door flew inward.
“Hey, what the—?”
Slade stared into the black dilated pupils of Julio. Too shocked to move or cry out, he watched in abject horror as Julio pulled a large knife from his pocket and hit a switch. The blade popped out, directed right at Slade’s face. It startled him into action. He screamed.
Chapter Seven
Slade shoved his IV pole at Julio, catching him off guard and forcing him back a couple of feet. It was just enough for Slade to grab the bathroom door to try to yank it shut. Julio was faster. He wedged his body in the entrance to prevent Slade from pushing him back out. The hand that held the knife was on the outside, but Julio used his available one to claw and punch at Slade. With his good hand gripping the knob and pulling on it for all he was worth, Slade used the brace of his bad arm to bash at Julio’s head or fend off his punches. He gritted his teeth against the pain every time his injured arm connected with anything.
The tubing from the IV ripped out of him and Slade yelled again. Julio growled, not even sounding human anymore. Slade’s strength waned, his energy still too depleted from the attack. Julio shoved his way in, knocking Slade to the floor. Dropping down onto Slade, he then straddled him. He brought the knife around in a wide arc, holding it over Slade with a sickening gleam in his eye. Julio raised his arm to strike, Slade covering his face with his braced limb.
Julio sputtered out an angry gargled sound as if he was being choked. Slade chanced a look right in time to see Parker with Julio in a headlock. Parker’s face was contorted in anger as he rolled Julio off Slade. There was no doubt in Slade’s mind that Julio was crazed on meth—he was like a wild animal as he kicked and clawed at Parker.
Where the fucking hell is the security guy?
The two men struggled in a frenzied battle. Parker still had his arm wrapped around Julio’s throat from behind, and Julio continued to fight him like a feral beast. Yelling sounded from the hallway. Julio got into a position to propel himself back and he smashed Parker against the cabinet of the sink, loosening Parker’s hold on him.
Copping an Attitude Page 8