16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

ORION

My cock is still tingling, and my limbs feel heavy. Elio’s weight on top of me and the hot, citrusy water engulfing me are almost enough to put me right to sleep after too many nights spent wide awake.

I chuckle and drag my hand from the back of his neck down his spine in a slow stroke, feeling too lazy to even fight with my heavy eyelids.

“Not sure I have it in me to get it up again tonight,” I say.

He snorts. “I meant sleep , Boss. In case you didn’t know, that’s another thing you can do in a bed.”

I slide my hand lower and pinch his ass hard. Elio yelps, then laughs.

“Smartass,” I mutter. “I can’t stay. I have to go back to the hospital.”

“You sure?” He shifts his weight and sits up a little more. “Jack is probably sleeping, right? And I’m sure he has doctors and nurses keeping a close eye on him. You won’t be much use to him if you keel over from exhaustion.” I hate to admit it, but his reasoning is sound. It doesn’t help that he starts to massage my shoulders and the back of my neck. Even at an awkward angle, I moan at the way he’s able to melt some of the more persistent knots. “Stay here, get some sleep, and I’ll drive you over there first thing in the morning.”

I know that sitting awake next to Jack’s bed doesn’t do a damn thing to help him. It just feels wrong to be at home, asleep while he’s on a ventilator. But Elio’s right. He won’t miss me one night. If anything, he’ll probably be glad when I show up in the morning and I don’t look like an extra in a zombie movie.

“Okay,” I agree with a groan.

Elio probes his fingers into a particularly stubborn knot near my left shoulder blade and brings his lips close to my ear.

“Good boy,” he whispers, brushing his mouth against my earlobe as he forms the words. The amusement in his voice is as warm as the bathwater.

I pinch his ass again and rumble a laugh. “Watch it, Brat.”

“Yes, Boss,” he says obediently, kissing my cheek.

We fall into a peaceful silence for a while after that, enjoying the massage jets and the heat of the water. Elio can’t seem to stop touching me, alternating between working his magic on my sore muscles and exploring my naked body slowly with his hands. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and brushes leisurely kisses over my Adam’s apple and the spot where my pulse flutters.

“I think this is my favorite moment of all time,” I admit in a tired drawl that sounds half drunk.

My eyes are closed, but I can feel Elio’s mouth curve into a smile against my skin. “Shucks, Boss,” he murmurs. “Now who’s being sweet?”

“Don’t let it go to your head. There isn’t a lot of competition. And definitely don’t get used to the sweet thing. You’ve just got all my defenses down with this bubble bath and a massage.”

“Good. I like your rough edges too much to want them smoothed all the way out. Just because you like me now, doesn’t mean I want you to stop acting like you hate me a little.” He kisses my throat again, flicking his tongue lightly over my skin.

“Who says I like you?” I quirk an eyebrow without opening my eyes.

He drags his lips slowly up to my chin, planting kisses every inch along the way. “You like me,” he says confidently, placing the last kiss against my mouth.

My stomach flutters and my heart beats just a little faster. I dig my fingers harder into his ass cheek and take a deep breath that fills my lungs with the citrus smell of the bath and the even stronger scent that’s all Elio. Maybe I like him… a little, anyway.

ELIO

“Hello?” The quiet rasp of Orion’s voice drags me awake.

It’s pitch dark, clearly still the middle of the night. The light from the streetlamps and nearby buildings seeps in through the small gap in my bedroom curtains, casting a dim glow over Orion’s naked body. His hair is a tangled mess, hanging loose around his shoulders, and he’s sitting up with the blankets pooled around his waist.

I grumble with irritation and reach for him. Who the fuck is calling in the middle of the night? Whoever it is, they clearly have a death wish. I need at least a few more hours with Orion spooned around me, swallowed up by my cloud-like mattress and silk-soft sheets.

“Shit,” he mutters. The quiet expletive shakes the sleep fog from my brain and has me bolting upright instantly. “Okay, thanks for calling. I’ll be there soon.”

He hangs up and drops his phone on the bed, bringing both hands up to his face. He hisses another curse before flinging the sheets back and getting out of bed.

“What happened?” I’m already scrambling out after him. “Is Jack okay?”

“Not exactly. I don’t know.” He turns his head one way, then the other, looking around in the dark. “Fuck,” he shouts the word this time.

I can feel the loose threads that hold him together fraying. He’s been dealing with the weight of all this alone for too long, but he’s not alone anymore. I mentally pull myself together, slipping easily into the familiar position of control that I may not love, but that Orion needs right now.

I stride across the room and flip on the light. He blinks and squints, not even pausing his fruitless search of the floor to let his eyes adjust. I yank open the top drawer of my dresser and grab two pairs of briefs, stepping into one of them and tossing the other to him. He catches the underwear without even looking, his finely honed reflexes working even when he’s half asleep and fully panicking.

“Put those on,” I say firmly.

His lips twist into a frown, but he does as I say, his movements jerky and robotic as he steps into them. I hand him a pair of jeans next, and finally a t-shirt. He puts them on, then pulls his hair up into a knot while I get dressed in a hurry.

“I need to call a cab. Do cabs run this time of night?”

“You don’t need a cab.” I put a hand on his shoulder and steer him towards the bedroom door.

“I have to get to the hospital,” he argues, picking up his pace when he realizes we’re heading towards the front door.

When we reach it, he goes for the handle, but I grab a fistful of his t-shirt and tug him to a stop.

“Shoes,” I say, not bothering to respond to his comment about the hospital. Obviously, that’s where we’re going. And no way am I going to stick him in a cab and leave him to deal with whatever’s happening alone. But I don’t think any of that information is going to get through to him right now, so I stay focused on action.

I let go of his shirt and drop to my knees, reaching for his tennis shoes on the rack at the same time. It takes a little coaxing to get him to lift his foot so I can help him get them on, but eventually I manage it. As ridiculous as I look wearing my Oxfords with a pair of sweatpants and blatant bedhead, I can’t remember where I left my other shoes right now, so they’ll have to do. I stand up and shove my feet into my own shoes, then grab my keys and nudge Orion out the door.

By the time I get him into my car, he seems to be thinking a little more clearly again. He rolls down his window and drums his fingers impatiently against the door.

“That was Jack’s doctor. He said something about a thoro-something-or-other. Dammit, I hate when they use that bullshit medical jargon.” He looks out the window, almost sounding like he’s talking to himself.

“They need to drain fluid from his lungs?” I guess without having enough context to know if I’m even in the ballpark or not.

“Is that what that means? Yeah, I guess that makes sense. He has pneumonia and they’ve got him on antibiotics, but I guess they’re not working.” He bounces his knee.

I peel one hand off of the steering wheel and reach over to put it on his thigh. He stills at my touch, letting out a few shaky breaths before putting a hand over mine.

“Do you know anything else so far?” I ask.

Orion gives a jerky shake of his head that I catch out of the corner of my eye, trying to keep my focus on the quiet street stretched out in front of me.

“Just that the last time he was sick like this, the doctor kept making a point of telling me that pneumonia is the leading cause of death in quadriplegics. I just wanted to grab the guy and fucking shake him. Stop fucking trying to prepare me for the worst and do your goddamn job, you know?” His voice cracks.

I squeeze his thigh and turn at the next traffic light. “Sometimes a little intimidation helps.” My lips twitch, and he huffs.

“You’re such a fucking mobster,” he mutters. There’s enough amusement lacing his voice that I don’t think it’s an insult this time.

“Guilty,” I agree, pulling into the hospital parking lot and coming to a stop. “And you’re about to see why that’s not always the worst thing.”

I kill the engine and open my door. Orion eyes me warily for a second, then gets out on his side.

There’s something unsettling about hospitals, and I don’t just mean the life and death aspect of it all. There’s no real sense of time under the fluorescent lights and unending activity. Three in the morning looks the same as noon. Of course, that doesn’t stop us from getting looks from staff on our way down the long corridors to the intensive care wing. I’m sure a few of them are about to inform us that there are set visiting hours, but a dangerous look is enough for them to keep their mouths shut.

I’m one step behind Orion as we reach the circular nurses’ station that sits right in the center of the ICU. Nurses and orderlies shuffle by, and machines beep from all directions.

“I got a call from Doctor Ross about my brother, Jack,” Orion says to the middle-aged woman behind the desk.

“Mr. Barros.” A man in a white coat, who I’m assuming is Doctor Ross, greets us from the mouth of a room, the privacy curtain fluttering as he pushes it open wider. “I just sent Jack to the surgical suite to be prepped for the thoracentesis. I’m about to head down there to join the nurse and get started. It shouldn’t take long if you want to wait.”

“Yeah, I’ll wait.” Orion nods. “But what happened? He’s on antibiotics. I don’t understand why he’s getting worse.”

“We’re still waiting for his cultures to come back to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with, but my guess is that this is a viral pneumonia rather than bacterial. And his paralysis is complicating his recovery. Pneumonia is the leading—”

“I know,” Orion barks, cutting the doctor off. He drags his fingers through his hair, freeing several strands from the bun. “I’m sorry. I just… is there anything else you can do for him?”

The doctor’s lips stretch into a patronizing smile that makes my fingers twitch for something to throw at him. The way Orion’s hand balls into a fist, I’m guessing he feels the same way.

“We’re doing our best. Now, why don’t you go have a seat and I’ll see if I can answer any more of your questions after I finish the procedure.”

Orion gives another jerky nod, and Doctor Ross leaves us in Jack’s empty room. His tennis shoes squeak against the tile floor as he shuffles inside and plops down heavily into the same chair that I’m assuming he’s been sleeping in for the past few nights.

“Will you be okay for a few minutes, Boss?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, barely looking at me, staring at the empty bed and the silent monitors instead.

I walk quickly back down the hallway, not wanting to leave Orion alone any longer than necessary. I haven’t been to the ICU here before, but luckily there are enough signs that I manage to find my way to the emergency department without getting lost. The nurse behind this desk looks like she’s seen some shit, and probably hasn’t had a night off in at least a week. Her eyes sweep over me as I approach, and her face sets into a no-bullshit kind of sternness that makes me like her, even though I know I’m about to piss her off.

She sets a clipboard down hard on top of the counter and shoves it towards me.

“Fill out the forms and bring them back. We triage by severity, so don’t expect to be out of here any time before dawn. Any complaints about the wait can go directly to the complaints department.” She points at the trash can behind her, and I chuckle.

“Cute.” I nudge the clipboard aside and lean on the desk. “Do me a favor and go tell Doctor Anderson that I need a minute of his time.”

“Should I go ahead and mark down ‘hearing problem’ on your form? Or is it more of a comprehension problem?”

I let my friendly grin fall, replacing it with a cool mask that never fails to raise the hairs on the back of people’s necks. She sits up a little straighter but doesn’t drop the attitude from her face.

“I can hear just fine,” I assure her. “Now, let’s see how your comprehension skills hold up, huh? Go get Doctor Anderson and tell him Elio Moretti needs a quick word with him.”

She rears back like I slapped her, eyes going wide. It takes all of five seconds before she’s up out of her chair, murmuring an apology. She disappears through a set of doors to do as I asked. And it’s even less time before the tall, rugged doctor, who enjoys all the benefits of being on the Moretti payroll, steps through the same swinging doors with a nervous smile on his face.

“Mr. Moretti,” he says cordially.

“Doctor Anderson, glad you could spare a minute.” I push off the desk and straighten myself up.

“Of course. Why don’t you come to my office.” He holds the door open and tilts his head. “What can I do for you?” he asks as soon as we step into his cluttered office, the door closing behind us to barely muffle the sounds of the emergency room.

“Doctor Ross, is he any good?” I ask, getting straight to the point.

Confusion flickers over his face. “He’s not in my department.”

“But I’m sure you’ve heard nurses talk,” I press.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Doctor Ross is a fine doctor.”

“Fine, not great?” I raise both eyebrows, impatient to get past the bullshit and find out what I need to know.

“I guess it would depend on the situation. He’s a board-certified intensivist, so he’s focused on stabilizing critical patients.”

“Okay, so, say I need the best doctor in the country to treat a patient with quadriplegia and pneumonia.”

Anderson scratches his chin and thinks for a second. “Elaina Hopkins is a pulmonologist who’s been doing a lot of work with complicated cases of pneumonia. She’s probably your best bet.”

“Perfect.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. “Call her and get her here. She’s going to make sure Jack Barros leaves here healthier than he came in.” I take out five crisp hundreds and set them on his desk. Anderson eyes the money before picking it up and stuffing it into the breast pocket of his coat.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he agrees.

“Don’t see , get it done. Understood?”

He tenses and then bobs his head. “Understood. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.” I rap my knuckles on his desk and then see myself out.

Orion is in exactly the same place I left him in, still staring at Jack’s bed. I grab a second chair and drag it across the floor, sitting down next to him.

“You know what’s fucked up?” His voice is jagged around the edges.

“What’s that?” I ask, reaching for his hand and lacing my fingers between his like I did earlier in the elevator. Fuck, that feels like a lifetime ago right now.

“I just keep thinking about how much it’s going to cost me for them to drain his lungs. My brother could die and all I can worry about is the goddamn cost.”

I squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry about that, Boss.”

He huffs through his nose.

“Sure, I’ll just pretend money grows on trees.”

“You’ve been so fixated on the bad shit that comes along with dating a guy like me. But there are some upsides too.” I make soothing circles on the back of his hand with my thumb.

He finally tears his eyes off the bed and glances over at me, a furrow between his brows and a hard set to his mouth. I can tell he wants to argue. I’m sure it’s right on the tip of his tongue to tell me to shove my money and any help I’m about to offer him up my ass. He studies my face for a minute, then sighs.

“Are we dating?” he asks blandly instead.

I snort a laugh. “Yeah, Boss. We’re dating.”