Afire: Entire Blinded Series (19 page)

They led him to a corner of the waiting room and questioned him. Ryan related the night's events as well as he could remember—some parts were missing due to shock and how quickly it happened—and he was assured Doug would be apprehended. Yeah, Ryan didn't doubt that. Didn't doubt that he'd be sharing the same living space as Trevor either. Ryan would go to court and make sure that bastard went down for a long stretch.

Once the police left, the emergency room emptied of patients for around five minutes, leaving Ryan with the sense he was the only person in the hospital. The nurses were back in their station. No one walked the tiled floor in front of the chairs. Was this a sign that he was alone in other areas of his life? That Lee was gone?

Panicked, he jumped out of his seat and walked to the desk, once again ringing the bell. Before a nurse could emerge from the hidey-hole, the automatic doors behind Ryan slid open and a whoosh of activity entered. A stretcher bearing a woman, bloody clothes stuck to her body, slid along the corridor beside the desk, two paramedics attending and one walking toward the nurses’ station. Ryan stepped aside, and the nurse came out, taking down the patient's details, fingers flying over the keyboard. The woman had been stabbed—
Jesus, I hope Doug never went on the rampage
—and her vitals were failing.

With the booking in done, the paramedic left and new people walked, hobbled, or staggered in. Ryan quickly asked whether Lee was out of surgery yet, and the nurse eyed him sympathetically.

"I'm
so
sorry,” she said. “I forgot to come and see you, didn't I?"

What the fuck?

Ryan gritted his teeth and kept his temper in check, preparing for the worst. She'd said she was
so
sorry...
Oh, God. Let him be all right. Don't let him have died. Not him. Not my Lee.

She rounded the desk and placed her hand on the base of his back, guiding him down the corridor. Ryan wanted to ask where they were going, whether she was taking him to a private room where she'd break the news that his world was ripped apart by some bastard's bullet and a failed operation. The words wouldn't come, and he let her take him into the elevator and up two floors. His jangling nerves brought on a wave of sickness, and he swallowed. Shakes took over his body, and he forced himself to control them. It wouldn't do for him to break down now. Not in such a confined space where he couldn't hide his emotions. They stepped out to a series of machine-made bleeps and wheezes, and Ryan stared across at another nurses’ station and a row of closed doors. Viewing windows, some with the blinds closed, filled the walls beside the doors, and he heaved a sigh of relief. If he'd been brought here, Lee was all right.

"He's down here,” the nurse said, showing him to room 4 and pointing at the blind-covered window. “You may look through the window for now, but he's sleeping and needs recovery time. No excitement when he wakes."

"The gunshot...” Ryan stared at the closed blinds, wishing he could see through them.

"Didn't damage anything that couldn't be repaired, according to his notes.” She patted his arm. “I'll just go in and open the blinds, then I'll leave you to it. I'll let the nurses know you're here and who you are. If you need anything, call the nurse along there.” She jerked her head toward the station. “And if you're lucky, because it's so late, she might even let you stay the night in one of the easy chairs in the visitor's room.” She smiled then winked.

"Thank you."

Ryan regretted being short with her. She'd either worked a long shift or had one ahead, and she looked tired, her hair escaping the bun at the top of her neck. She smiled and entered the room, slipping inside before Ryan had a chance to peek at Lee. The blinds opened, and he peered between two slats, leaning forward to get as close as he could to his lover. He didn't see or hear the nurse leave. Lee took the whole of his attention. God, he looked so white against the sheets, his arms either side of him on top of the customary hospital blanket. Ryan's heart contracted, and his stomach clenched at the sight of Lee's chest rising and falling. He'd nearly lost him,
nearly fucking lost him
, and he swallowed the huge lump forming in his throat. Tears burned his eyes, and this time he let them fall, let relief sweep through him until it bent his knees and had him sagging against the glass, fingers gripping the ledge below the window.

He took a deep breath and swiped the tears from his cheeks, exhaling through shaky lips. Glancing to his left, he eyed the nurses’ station. No one stood behind the desk, so he quietly opened Lee's door and went inside. The monitor beside the bed blipped, and a ventilator breathed heavily, its raspy hiss giving the illusion Lee was the one making the noise. Ryan moved closer to the bed, the squeak of his boots loud on the tiled floor. He winced and tiptoed until he stood beside Lee. Looking down at him, he longed to cup his face, to see his eyes open and stare up at him, to have him smile and call him a silly bastard because everything was going to be all right.

I'll fucking have Doug for this. Bastard!

Tears blurred Ryan's vision, and he dashed them away. He reached down and gently took Lee's hand in his, worrying that he'd break him if he held it too tight. Lee's skin felt the same as it always had—smooth and warm—and gratitude rushed through Ryan that he wasn't holding a cold hand, a hand that could no longer feel or give sweet touches.

"I love you, man,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

God, yeah, I love you. Hurts. Wake up. Just for a minute. Just so I can see your eyes and you can smile and know I'm here. Will always be here.

Love for Lee swelled inside Ryan, an inferno that took his breath away. He hadn't thought it possible he could love Lee more than he already did, but there it was, that raging fire burning brightly, giving him the strength he'd need to nurse Lee back to health and be by his side throughout the coming trial—and for the rest of their lives.

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All right, so seeing Lee shot hadn't been the best of times for Ryan, but watching his lover suffer in the aftermath had been right up there for feeling pretty damn useless. It wasn't so much Ryan not being able to do anything to help as the nurses bustled around Lee's bed, administering medical aid and the standard bedside manner, but the fact that Ryan couldn't take away Lee's pain. The memories of that night. He'd do anything to erase them from Lee's mind, anything to be in that bed instead of Lee, bullet wound almost healed, Lee's nightmares raging through his head. Not that he hadn't had nightmares of his own, mind you. He had. Terrible, wretched visions had overtaken his once-pleasant dreams, and every night Lee died in them. Ryan woke panicked and covered in sweat. Shit, it had been a damn freaky turn of events, no mistake about that, but he'd never anticipated the unsettled feelings after going through it.

Yeah, he'd watched the news, seen victims of crime crying when they explained what had happened, but their devastation hadn't really come through. Not the raw, body-hollowing shit that gripped Ryan, anyway.

He sighed as he watched Lee sleep. Sighed that he could think of himself and how
he
felt when Lee was the one suffering the most. A nurse had told Ryan last week that he had to sift through his own musings about what went on; otherwise he wouldn't be much good to a recuperating Lee if he was messed up in the head. Ryan knew that, realised she spoke the truth, but it didn't stop him feeling guilty.

Lee was due to go home today. He couldn't go back to work yet, fuck no, so they were both relieved Lee had agreed to keep the money his old dear had left him when she'd committed suicide. They could live off that for a bit, and had discussed taking that holiday they'd mentioned before...well, yeah, before.

Maybe a change of scenery would help. Who the fuck knew? Ryan suspected the horror of what they'd been through would follow them wherever they went. After all, their memories would go with them, locked inside their heads and hearts. It was a tough one, all right, their situation, but they'd get through. They had to. Neither of them had spent all that time apart to let some fucked-up school pal and a bullet split them up.

Lee shifted, his arm coming out from beneath the white covers and flopping down on top. Ryan stared at him, took in the beauty of the man he'd grown up with, the man who made his life so damn complete it wasn't funny. And he sighed at the sting of tears. He'd cried too many times since the shooting. So much so his eyes were permanently gritty and itched. Shit, did they itch, and rubbing them only made it worse. Ryan blinked, sick of himself, sick of the thoughts running through his mind. He didn't usually worry so much, never had, preferring to brush insignificant crap off and move right along. But this was hardly insignificant, was it?

Jesus, this has to be the most significant thing in my life so far. The one thing that's dominated every day. It rules us. Fucking dictates everything now. And it makes me sick because a couple of gay haters did this. Couldn't just let us live our life in peace. Had to make their point.

A surge of anger got hold of Ryan, and he muttered, “Well, I'm fucked if they're going to upset us anymore.” He felt more like his old self then, suddenly able to see that if he allowed other people's actions to control his mind and life, the bullies had won. “And they ain't fucking winning."

"You've finally gone mad, then,” Lee said, voice thick from sleep. “Wondered how long it'd take before you did."

Ryan laughed quietly and leaned forward in his chair, taking Lee's hand in his. “You sleep all right? Anything hurt this morning?” He stroked Lee's palm with his thumb.

"Yep and no. Didn't have a nightmare, and my guts are finally feeling normal again."

"Good.” Ryan smiled and watched Lee turn onto his side, facing him. An erection tented the blankets. “Bit of Morning Glory there, mate.” He nodded towards Lee's crotch.

Lee glanced down. “Yeah. I could say I need a piss, but that wouldn't be too romantic."

"Like we've ever been that kind of couple. We're not romantic.” Ryan smiled and met Lee's eyes.

"I do need one, but I can't be arsed to move."

"That wasn't the right kind of answer."

"Thought you said we weren't romantic.” Lee's mouth lifted at one corner.

"Yeah, well. Things could change."

"They could.” Lee paused, then said, “All right. I don't need a piss. I need you. How's that?"

Ryan huffed out air through his nose, trying not to laugh. It just wasn't them, this love talk business. “Aw, shut the fuck up and go to the toilet. Nurse'll be here in a minute with your breakfast. You don't want her ogling your cock."

"Too right. Especially if it's that sour-faced old bugger.” Lee got up and headed for the adjoining bathroom. “Reckon she just about tolerates us, you know.” He frowned, staring at the tiled white floor, his ever-present worry over what people thought about them all to clear.

"Been through this before, mate. Time not to give a crap, know what I mean? You've been through a lot. Could've been killed. Who cares what some dried-up old bag thinks. What anyone thinks. Life's too short. Too precious.” Ryan's throat swelled, the emotion a bit too much at this time of the morning.

"Yeah. You're right."

"As usual."

Lee flipped Ryan the bird and disappeared through the bathroom doorway. He left the door slightly ajar, as he'd been told to do by one of the nurses in case he fainted, and Ryan listened to the sounds emanating from the small room.

"You gonna shower now? Get ready for when you leave?” he asked, picking at a hangnail and wincing when he pulled off a thick bit of skin.
Gotta stop doing that. He knows I'm worried when I fuck about with my fingers.

"Yeah, may as well."

The shower spray sounded, hard jets smacking into the plastic tray beneath, as did the wet skid of Lee stepping inside with unsteady footing.

"You all right in there?” Ryan asked.

"Yeah. You coming in?” Lee's voice was muffled from him being enclosed in three walls of glass and one of tile.

"What, now? Here?"

"Yeah. Why not? Lock the bloody door and no one will be any the wiser. Got a Morning Glory here going to waste. Taking a piss didn't cure it."

Ryan stood and walked over to the bathroom doorway. “Man, your turn of phrase is so...crude."

"Would you want it any other way?” Lee looked over his shoulder, grin filling his face.

Do I?
Ryan didn't know, wasn't sure if them adopting pillow talk was something that would fit. They'd always been so...well, so normal.
And what the fuck is that anyway

Lee turned away to face the tiled rear wall, and Ryan remained where he was, taking in as much of his lover as he could, what with the rapidly steaming glass. Lee's back was unmarred by a scar. The bullet hadn't passed right through, had lodged somewhere inside, removed by surgeons giving a good prognosis that nothing major had been harmed. Lee's spine stood out beneath the skin, more prominent than it had been due to him losing quite a bit of weight being in hospital. The muscles in his arms had shrunk too, with Lee unable to go to the gym these past couple of weeks. But his body still aroused Ryan just as much, if not more now they had that unspoken thing between them that shit, they had come
that
close to being without each other.

Lee picked up a bottle of shower gel from an ancient cracked, plastic shelf and Ryan imagined him squeezing some out into his palm. He couldn't see, could only guess from Lee's movements, and the thought of where Lee would spread that gel made Ryan's cock harden. It strained against his jeans, and his heart rate picked up speed as he entertained doing as Lee had asked. Dare he? Dare he get in that damn shower?

Lee soaped himself, folding at the waist to smooth lather over his shins, making the decision a no-damn-brainer for Ryan. He stepped into the bathroom and locked the door, the sound of the bolt grinding accompanied by Lee's low chuckle.