“How’s Ralph?” Storm asked.
Kris wondered who this Ralph was. His name had come up several times now.
“He’s fine. He’s in Mr. Shadow’s room.”
At first Kris speculated that Ralph was a child. But the underlining tension in the man’s answer drew his attention. Storm straightened in the chair, his piercing blue eyes boring into the thin man.
“What happened, MD?” he demanded.
Kris watched the man Storm called MD run his hand through his hair, pushing the short, dirty, blond strands into ruffled disarray.
“He chewed through the carrier and got out,” MD admitted. “He ended up destroying the wooden baseboard by the door and found some wires that must have tasted good. They shorted out and blew a fuse. The manager of the motel is holding your stuff hostage until you pay for the damage.”
“Shit. Was Ralph hurt?” Storm began trying to open the row of buttons on the light blue shirt MD had handed him. The sling made his attempt awkward.
“He has a small burn on the side of his mouth. He’s fine, Storm. I wouldn’t have left him if he weren't,” MD assured him. “There is one thing you should be aware of. Management won’t let you stay at the motel any longer. They said, after you pick up your stuff, you and Ralph are no longer welcome there.”
“That’s fine by me. They can kiss my ass.” Storm sounded as if his temper was about to blow.
Kris’s heart started beating erratically. He didn’t want Storm to leave. He stepped out of the bathroom and stood there, not sure what he should do.
Storm’s blue eyes flashed to Kris. The anger in them softened as Storm continued to look at him until the big man held out his hand. “Come meet my friend.”
Kris went over to Storm. He placed his hand into that big, callused hand and was pulled in closer to Storm’s chair. “MD, this is Kris Winters. Kris, this is MD.”
MD smiled. “Hey, Kris.”
Kris gave MD a little wave. Storm still held his hand and showed no sign of letting it go. “Nice to meet you, MD.”
Storm stood and pulled Kris over by the bed. “Hop up.”
Kris saw that Corey was awake and climbed on the bed, sitting next to his legs. Storm raised the head of the bed so Corey was sitting up and put his arm around Corey’s shoulders.
Corey’s eyes looked dazed. His bandaged hand slid down his leg toward Kris, and Kris gently picked it up.
“MD, you haven’t met Corey formally. Corey Casey, I don’t know if you remember MD. He was there after I pulled you out of the house.”
“I remember you. Thank you for helping me.” Corey’s voice sounded like a croaking whisper.
Storm picked up the glass of water and held the straw to Corey’s lips. When Corey finished, the smile he gave Storm was brilliant in its intensity. Kris wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
MD started laughing. Shocked, Kris watched the man laugh so hard he bent at the waist and held his stomach. The man acting like a crazy loon finally staggered to the chair by the door, and red-faced with tears running down his cheeks, collapsed onto it.
“All right,” Storm said. “Are you finished?”
Another burst of laughter rang out. After taking a few deep breaths, MD said, “Synn was right.”
“What are you talking about?” Storm asked.
“Last night during the bachelor party Synn declared that the earth’s magic in Granite County gave good men their heart’s desire. I figured he should know with his heritage of Native American and Creole voodoo hoodoo stuff.”
“Voodoo hoodoo?” Storm teased.
“Oh, you know what I mean. Joke all you want, but it looks to me that you’ve found what you always said you wanted,” MD said.
Storm’s blue eyes widened as they stared at MD before he turned his head toward Corey. Corey’s face became flushed, and Kris saw desire and yearning in his expression.
Kris stopped breathing when Storm turned to him. His blue eyes held possession and desire as they pinned Kris in place for a long moment. Storm smiled, and Kris could breathe again.
“Maybe you’re right,” Storm said.
Chapter Seven
Corey opened his eyes to bright sunlight coming through the large window on the other side of the room. He had a slight headache, and his hands hurt. His throat was also still a little sore, but otherwise, he felt pretty good.
A warm weight pressing against his leg caught his attention. Kris lay curled up and sleeping at the bottom of the bed. The quiet of the room was broken by deep breathing near Corey’s ear. Happiness filled Corey when he saw Storm sleeping in a reclining chair next to the bed.
Shortly after Storm and MD’s cryptic conversation last night, the discussion turned to where Storm and Ralph were going to stay. Both he and Kris could have been pushed over with a feather when they found out Ralph was a bunny. Storm had assured them he was a manly rabbit. Corey chuckled to himself at that thought.
The drugs the nurse gave him kicked in about that time, and things became a little hazy. In the end, MD left to take care of Ralph, and after Kris helped Corey see to his needs in the bathroom, he fell into an exhausted sleep. He was glad both men stayed, but he did wonder how that had been decided. He also was curious at how Storm got out of his ripped and smoky clothes and into a clean shirt and jeans with one arm still in a sling.
A squeeze on his leg had Corey looking down into amazing light blue eyes he never got tired of looking into. Kris pointed to the bathroom, and Corey nodded.
In the bathroom, after he helped Corey take care of things, Kris said, “I didn’t want to wake up Storm. How are you feeling?”
“A lot better,” Corey answered. He didn’t have the heart to tell Kris that Storm’s blue eyes had been peering through his lashes as his gaze followed their escape into the bathroom. “What happened last night after I fell asleep?”
“Storm told me to lie down next to you and get some sleep, and he made himself comfortable in the chair.”
Corey searched Kris’s face, trying to get a read on his emotions. As usual, he saw nothing.
“Doesn’t it bother you that you’re following the orders of a man you’ve just met?” Granted Storm was a stud, but Corey didn’t understand Kris’s blind following.
Kris chewed on the nail of his index finger. He did that when Corey started pressing him too hard. Corey pushed aside the hurt when he couldn’t remember the last time that the nail had been more than a nub.
“To be honest, it’s a relief when Storm tells me what to do. I enjoy helping and doing things for you. I just don’t know how, and half the time I get it wrong.”
Kris walked to the closed bathroom door and put his hand on the handle. Pivoting on his sock-clad foot, he faced Corey. This time Corey saw the fierce determination on his face. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. We’ve been through too much to start lying to each other now. I’m attracted to Storm. When I walked into his room yesterday, it felt like I had come home. Being with him calms all that hurt and pain inside of me.”
Corey’s stomach felt as though it was full of lead. “So you’re dumping me.”
Kris came at him, and Corey stepped back, only to be brought up short against the wall. Kris’s red face contrasted sharply with the anger flashing in his eyes. The frozen, emotionless man Corey knew for the last year was gone. Corey couldn’t stop his dick from responding.
“Fuck you, Corey,” Kris shouted. “I try to tell you how I feel, and you turn it around to be all about you again. If you want to go there, well, fine, I can go there.” A finger stabbed Corey in the chest. “Our relationship isn’t working. We both are trying our best, but it isn’t good enough for either of us. That being said, I saw how you were looking at Storm. You’re just as attracted to him as I am. So don’t you go all high and mighty on me. The first question we need to answer is whether we are going to stay together. The second is, how does Storm fit in?”
Corey was speechless. Kris had just laid everything out in a line
like never before. The door to the bathroom opened, and Storm stood there. His serious blue-eyed gaze froze them in place.
In a calm voice, he said, “The doctor is waiting and would like to redress your bandages before they let you out of here.”
* * * *
Kris stood watching the doctor finish applying the thick dressing to Corey’s burnt and stitched hands. Their relationship might be on the skids, but his heart still hurt at the painful, raw, seeping burns, open scrapes, and multiple rows of black stitches that covered each swollen hand. Beside him, Storm slouched back against the wide windowsill and crossed one ankle over the other. Storm’s stance might be casual, but his gaze never wavered from watching everything the doctor did to Corey.
Kris felt a touch on the small of his back before Storm’s hand slid around to cup his hip and pull him into the circle of his free arm. The bubbling turmoil of heartache inside of Kris calmed.
“That should be it, Mr. Casey,” the doctor said. “The nurse will be in shortly with your aftercare, next appointment, and discharge papers.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Corey responded.
Kris was relieved to see the smile Corey gave the doctor was easy with no hint of pain. The doctor left, and all three men looked at one another. Storm opened his mouth, and Kris stiffened. What if Storm decided to leave them?
The hospital room door opened. Granite County Sheriff Steve Titan and the detective from yesterday walked in. Kris and Corey had gotten to know the sheriff well after the fallout of Kris’s attack. Kris had also donated monies and prizes to fundraisers the community center held where the sheriff’s partner, Haley Kenyon, was a teacher. The expression on both men’s faces was grim.
The sheriff’s dark-eyed gaze swept the room. It settled on Storm for a moment before moving on. As usual, the sheriff’s air of authority clung to the man as if he were wearing an impenetrable cloak of armor.
Kris watched the sheriff turn to Corey. “Mr. Casey, I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you yesterday. I was attending a wedding, and by the time I arrived at the fire scene and finished being updated on the situation, you had already been loaded into the ambulance. I’m glad to see you’re awake and seem to be recovering from your ordeal.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. Once my hands heal, I should be as good as new,” Corey said.
Kris could tell there was more to this visit than pleasantries and waited. Storm’s body tensed, and Kris figured he sensed it too. They didn’t have long to wait.
“Mr. Casey, do you own a blue 2014 Mercedes-Benz CLA250 with license plate number CAS209?” Sheriff Titan asked.
Corey frowned. “Yes I do,” he answered.
“Can you tell me the last place you saw this car, Mr. Casey?”
The sheriff’s face remained pleasant, but dread creeped up into Kris’s throat.
Corey frowned. “I had it parked behind Kris’s flower shop while I helped him with the flowers yesterday.”
The arm behind Kris’s back pressed against him. Kris looked up at Storm nodding toward Corey. Getting the message. Kris went to Corey’s side. He put his hand on Corey’s leg and received a smile in return.
“Is something going on with Corey’s car, Sheriff?” Storm asked.
“I’m afraid someone keyed the BMW,” the sheriff answered.
“What? Someone keyed my car?” Corey’s shout came out as a hoarse, breathless whisper.
“A Mrs. Heidi Norway called dispatch and reported that she discovered the damaged car when she opened the flower shop this morning. Do you know anyone who would do this?”
“Of course not,” Corey snapped. “I don’t have any problem with anyone, and nobody has a beef with me.”
It briefly flitted through Kris’s mind to wonder how many ex-boyfriends Corey had strung around the country. He pushed that unfair thought aside.
The sheriff shifted his attention from Corey to Kris. “The patrolman who responded to the call noted that you have surveillance cameras installed by the back door and loading area. Do they extend to the parking area in front of the loading dock?”
Kris bit his lip. “No. It just shows the area around the doors,” he admitted.
“I’d still like to have my guys go over them. Sometimes we get lucky.”
“I’ll have Heidi get them ready for you,” Kris said. Kris made a mental note to check his phone. He’d turned it off the evening before when he arrived in Corey’s room. He would bet there were at least a dozen calls from Heidi.
“Sounds good.” The sheriff turned toward Storm. The anxiety tying Kris’s guts into a knot kicked up a notch. “Last night at the wedding reception, they toasted you for being a hero.”
Storm nodded. A glance at Storm’s stoic expression and casual body language didn’t fool Kris. The man was wary and on edge.
“Say what you have to say, Sheriff,” Storm demanded.
“Your truck was also keyed.”
The room became deathly quiet, and tension grew until Kris thought an explosion was imminent.
Storm left the window and stood behind Kris. One arm reached around him, and Storm put his hand right next to Kris’s on Corey’s leg. Kris leaned back enough to brush against Storm’s hard body, letting the man know he was there for him.
“MD drove my truck from the house fire back to the motel last night. Is that where someone decided to go at it with a key? Are you sure it was my truck? I know they had cameras out in the parking lot. At least tell me you got something off of them,” Storm demanded.
Kris leaned back a little harder into Storm’s body. Storm’s chest rose against Kris’s shoulders, and a whisper of air touched the side of his face when the man exhaled.
“Dark blue 2010 Ford F250, with license plate number BPH198, registered to Storm M. Donahue. By the way, I was surprised to find out your real name is Storm,” Sheriff Titan said.
“Yeah, well, wait until you meet my sister, Rain, and my brother, Thunder,” Storm responded.
“Now that would be interesting,” the sheriff commented. “I have deputies questioning the neighboring businesses. We’re hoping someone saw something or noticed anyone unusual hanging around. As for the cameras, we’ve got nothing. The motel didn’t bother to replace the cards in them the last time they were full. And there hasn’t been any other reports of vandalism concerning vehicles for the last two weeks.”
“So you think these are isolated incidents?” Storm asked.
“At this point, we think so. The question is, why were you and Corey targeted?”
“I have no idea,” Storm said.
“I don’t either,” Corey said.
“I wonder if it had something to do with both of you being in that burning building yesterday?” Kris asked. He wouldn’t say anything more. It was for the police to speculate what was going on, not him. But he had a theory.
“We are looking into the house’s owners now. If any of you can think of something, call the department,” Sheriff Titan said.
After a few more minutes of small talk, the sheriff and detective left. The room became quiet, and Kris knew they were all speculating on the latest incidents.
Corey’s leg moved under Kris’s hand, getting his attention. “I want to go home.”
“I have to find somewhere to stay,” Storm commented.
“You can stay with us,” Kris blurted out.
Chapter Eight
Storm relaxed against the deep green cushions of the sectional sofa in Kris’s huge Victorian house. The two men curled up on the other end of the sectional were adorable with Ralph stretched out on their bellies. He liked seeing the usual tension between the two eased by their cooing and loving on Ralph. His bunny was sucking up every minute of it.
As soon as Kris had declared that Storm could stay with them, he instructed Kris to help Corey dress and hurried the two out of the hospital as fast as possible. It wasn’t long before they were approaching Kris’s Honda Civic.
That’s when the first hiccup occurred. Beside Storm, Corey stiffen
ed. Storm didn’t think anything of it, but Kris stopped walking and crossed his arms over his chest. One look at Kris’s red face and squinting eyes told Storm that Kris was furious.
“Walk home,” Kris bit out.
“Kris….” Corey pleaded.
“No,” Kris interrupted. “You are a pompous ass and a rich bitch.”
Storm looped his arm across Kris’s chest, being careful of the wound he’d heard about on his abdomen. “Enough with the name calling,” he ordered. “What’s the matter?”
“My Honda isn’t good enough for Mr. Golden Ass to sit in.” Acid colored every word, making them bitter black.
“I never said that,” Corey defended. “What’s with you? You’ve never acted like this before.”
“Maybe it’s time for me to quit sitting back and taking everyone’s crap.” Kris’s eyes glittered with angry tears. “I’m done letting you throw your daddy’s money in my face all the time. When are you going to understand that I don’t care how much money you have? I don’t need you to buy me a nicer car. I like this one. I don’t want a modern, state-of-the-art home. I like my painted lady.”
Corey stood before them. His shoulders slumped, and defeat marred his face. In a quiet voice, he said, “I’m sorry.”
The trembling, rigid body under Storm’s arm relaxed. Storm released the breath he was holding. He needed to get these two home before they started World War III.
“Come on, guys. Let’s go get Ralph,” he said.
Getting his stuff from the motel turned out to be neither pretty nor easy. Storm’s ears were ringing from the manager’s screams, and his wallet begged for mercy by the time he’d paid for all of the damage Ralph had created in his escape.
He pushed aside his anger at the thin lines gouged into the sides of his vehicle. After stowing all his stuff and Ralph into his damaged truck, Storm followed Kris’s Honda to his house. Storm watched the body language of the two men in the car in front of him. Their posture was stiff, but at least they seemed to be talking calmly.
Progressing with Storm [Granite County 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove) Page 5