* * * *
Storm and Corey slouched on the sectional drinking beer and eating popcorn. A baseball game played on the big screen television, and Ralph lay stretched out over their laps, snoozing away.
Glancing at the mantel clock in the corner, Storm wondered when Kris was going to be back from running errands. He was ready to play a few games in the bedroom with his men.
Like magic, he heard the creak of the front door opening.
“Honeys, I’m home,” Kris called.
Storm laughed and put Ralph on the floor before standing. His sugar made him happy. As they made their way to the front entry to see what was keeping Kris, Storm looped his arm around the other man who made him happy.
Kris stood inside the front door surrounded by large plastic bags. Storm paused and lifted one of his eyebrows. Beside him, Corey snorted.
“I stopped by the humane society. I couldn’t leave her. She’s litter trained and spayed already.” Nestled in Kris’s arms was a gray and white floppy-eared rabbit.
Ralph hopped into the room, stood up on his hind legs, and sniffed the air. The rabbit in Kris’s arms struggled. Kris put her down and said, “Ralph, meet Alice.”
Epilogue
The room was quiet. Sometimes Spencer Ryland turned on the television and endured the pain just to have some noise breaking up the silence. Who knew that when a person listened to a show or music they automatically moved their eyes? Spencer wanted to break down and cry, but it was too gross. What Leonel Heartland had done to him was unforgettable. Kidnapping Spencer and a fellow police officer had been bad enough. When Heartland had taken Spencer’s eye with his vicious knife, he might as well have taken Spencer’s life.
Heartland had also damaged Spencer’s other eye, but after two hours of surgery, the doctors had managed to save it. Now Spencer was in agony. Every time he moved his supposedly good eye, the raw, exposed muscles where his other eye used to be also moved, causing pain unlike anything Spencer had ever felt. The doctors thought by covering both eyes it would help keep the pain to a minimum, but it didn’t.
During Heartland’s attempt to escape his arrest, a stray bullet had plowed into Spencer’s abdomen. It had taken the surgeons five hours to put his insides back together. For two weeks, the pain was so bad, Spencer lay in a hospital bed and hoped, prayed, and wished he could die. When the doctors had taken the tube out of his stomach, he thought things would get better.
The next morning Spencer started bleeding internally and was rushed back to surgery. Infection set in and it took another three weeks for him to heal enough for the doctors to remove a tube from each side of his abdomen.
The phone next to Spencer’s bed rang every couple of days. After he finished fumbling around and answered it, he would hear Craig Collin’s voice. Craig was the other deputy kidnaped with Spencer. Because Spencer was alone in the world, those calls were all he had to look forward to. It was during one of their first conversations that Spencer learned he was down at a university hospital hours away from Granite County. They had flown him down there to save his good eye, kidney, bladder, and intestines. Spencer wished they had let them die.
Spencer’s thoughts stopped and his body stilled. Carefully, he listened and ignored the pain when his eyes automatically tried to scan the room. There it was again, the whisper of cloth on cloth. Now that he was focusing he could hear someone breathing.
“Who’s there?” he asked. For a moment, Spencer didn’t recognize that the hoarse voice breaking the silence was his. Now that he thought about it, the last time he used it was during Craig’s call a few days ago.
“It’s about time you figured out I was here.”
The voice wasn’t a deep base or higher tenor. It had more of an average tone to it with no particular accent. To Spencer, it didn’t sound refined like its owner came from money or anything. More like someone who came from a blue-collar background.
“Do I know you?” Spencer asked.
“My name is Terry. My mom was a patient at this hospital trying to recover for a long time. I read an article in the newspaper about what had happened to you. It said you didn’t have any family, so I thought I would come and visit you.”
Spencer couldn’t help the smile that covered his face. Someone cared enough to visit him. “That’s very nice of you. Are you from around here?”
That was how Spencer and Terry’s relationship started. Terry began visiting every day. He was there to help Spencer eat his meals, give him medication, and read the newspaper to him. Most of all, Terry ease his loneliness.
Was it the drugs that had Spencer letting his guard down? Was it the many years of being alone after his parents threw him to the curb for being gay? Spencer didn’t know these answers, and as he waited for Terry’s next visit he didn’t care. Other than Terry’s visits, Spencer didn’t care about much in life.
Early one morning, Terry woke Spencer up and informed him they were going outside to enjoy the sunshine. His first thought was to wonder how early it was in the morning as the nurses hadn’t been in his room opening his window shades while calling out good morning.
Terry’s fingers were gentle as he helped Spencer dress and into the wheel chair. It was a painful process getting him out of bed. Spencer’s abdomen was still so tender and sore he couldn’t straighten his body upright.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I’ve only managed to sit in a chair yesterday. I haven’t been able to walk down the hall yet.”
“You could use a little sun, Spencer. This hospital room is bringing you down.”
“It’s not like I can see anything with these patches on,” Spencer replied.
“You’re taking the one on your good eye off more and more. Soon you won’t need them anymore,” Terry said.
Something cold and hard pressed against his hand. “Here’s some water. The nurses gave me some pills, so your guts don’t hurt from the wheelchair ride.”
Spencer ran his fingers over the long plastic cylinder and discovered Terry had handed him a water bottle. Holding out his hand, two pills were pressed into it.
Footsteps moved away, and Spencer heard the creak of the door opening. He didn’t hear it shut, and Terry’s footsteps had stopped. For a second he thought it odd and wondered what Terry was doing by the door. But in the end nothing mattered to Spencer except that Terry was here with him.
While he waited, the tense throbbing muscles of his belly started relaxing, telling him the pills were working.
Footsteps drew nearer. “Okay, let’s go,” The tone of Terry’s voice was as brisk as his footsteps.
Spencer didn’t see the keys Terry was holding or know about the vehicle waiting for them in the patient-loading zone in front of the hospital.
At this low point in Spencer’s life, had he known, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.
THE END
WWW.AUTHORBELLANN.BLOGSPOT.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bellann Summer lives in the middle of nowhere, with her husband and children, surrounded by lakes and woods. In the summer Bellann enjoys fishing, camping, gardening, and growing flowers. Autumn is spent out in the woods exploring the beautiful colors and nature at its finest. In the winter there is ice fishing, snowmobiling, and sitting in front of the wood fireplace. She has always loved to read, and any free time is spent with a book in her hand. When major life changes occurred, she decided to try writing what she likes to read. And it worked.
For all titles by Bellann Summer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/bellann-summer
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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Progressing with Storm [Granite County 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove) Page 13