Chapter Twenty Six
Rory
Floating just beneath the surface with the promise of air, his chest felt tight, breathing seeming more like a chore than the natural act it should have been. Voices echoed in his mind. Shannon screaming, Rand telling him to hold on, begging him to stay, Gonzales circling the pond, peppering everyone with a litany of Spanish that would likely make Satan himself blush. And what the fuck was with the Morse code? The incessant beeping was making his head hurt. Blinking back the sudden bright light, he managed to coax his eyes open and saw the face of an angel, his halo blinding. “Shhhh…hey, it’s okay, just rest and I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”
Rory battled to stay awake, afraid to close his eyes, afraid he might never see Shannon or Rand again, the fear crippling him, rendering him mute. “Just push the damn button.”
Is that Rand? Why is he in my dream? Rory fought against the sudden wave of euphoria, his body weightless and floating once again.
The next time he fought past the cresting waves, there was a woman shining an annoyingly bright light in his eyes. He attempted to swat her away, but his limbs were too heavy to move. “What…happened? Where am…I?” Taking a few deep breaths, the room finally came into focus.
“Honey, you’re at Baylor Dallas. You were shot.” The woman, Karyn RN, he read the name on the badge dangling from her scrubs as she leaned over him to adjust the oxygen tube. So that was why his nose was itching. “Your two gentlemen are across the hall in a vacant room, hopefully trying to get some sleep. They left the cranky one that keeps yapping like she’s part of the Spanish Inquisition to watch over you.”
“Wha…Connie?” He managed to whisper.
“Yeah, I can get her if you like. She stepped out into the hall to make a call while I checked your vitals.” Karyn smiled down at him. She was a lovely woman with curly auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a genuine smile.
“How long?” God, he hoped he was voicing the words in his head, not sounding like Charlie Brown’s frickin’ teacher.
The Nurse laughed; it was a very pretty sound. “If you’re asking how long you’ve been here, the answer is six days. The first couple of days were touch and go, and those two fellas of yours never left your side. If it wasn’t for your doctor and Consuela, those two would be dead on their feet. They have to be threatened with promises to lock them out of your room before they’ll eat, sleep, or shower.”
“Shannon, okay? Not…” He strained to clear his throat, feeling a ton of sympathy for Junior in that moment. “Knife, Tuan?” He needed to move, roll over, or sit up, but when he tried, the pain was excruciating, and he cried out. The door to the room flew open, and Connie Gonzales blew in like a Texas Tornado.
“What’s wrong? What happened? Is he okay?” She fired off one question after another and when the Nurse didn’t immediately respond, Con growled.
“Con…where…Shan, Rand, where is Shan? Is he okay?” Karyn lifted his left arm, and he winced, gritting his teeth and biting back the bile in his throat. “Fuuuck!” His shout was answered with loud footsteps in the hall, Rand and…oh thank fuck, Shannon running into the room. “Shan,” Rory reached for him, his right arm heavy with fatigue.
It all came rushing back, the pain reminding Rory that he’d been shot and exactly who it was that had shot him.
Tuan was in Shannon’s apartment with a knife. But his man was not about to take it lying down. No sir, he was volleying every dish in the kitchen and a handful of small appliances at the menacing motherfucker. The three of them rushed Shannon’s apartment; Rand and Connie went through the front door while Rory climbed the fire escape and came in through the bedroom window. They’d all seen the knife the bastard held against Shannon’s throat; the trickle of blood running down his lover’s neck would haunt him for the rest of his life. Closing his eyes tight, he fought to regain his memory, the thread starting to fray. One second he could see Tuan holding Shannon and the next, Rand was manhandling the murderer none too gently. But before Rand could get the cuffs on, Tuan pulled a gun from the pocket of the coat he was wearing and turned, firing all six rounds in Rory’s direction.
“Babe, please, lie still.” Shannon was there, his hands flittering over Rory but not quite touching him. Rand hovered as well, one arm on Shannon’s shoulder, his eyes roaming the length of Rory’s body, and he could feel it as much as he would have felt the man’s hands. It was intimate with a glint of fear and longing. There was so much he wanted to say, to both men, but his fucking bitch-ass partner held up a contraption and pushed the button, the effects of the drug almost immediate. He’d kill her just as soon as he was able to lift both arms above his head.
***
Stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness, he was suspended in air, able to hear and listen, comprehend the conversation between Shannon and Rand, but unable to respond. “So, you care about Rory, about me?” Shannon sounded confused. There was also a hint of sadness in his tone that pained Rory.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry Rory didn’t tell you about me kissing him while we were in Washington, that you had to overhear my conversation with him to find out.” Huh? Was he so out of it that he couldn’t remember a conversation with Rand?
“Well, not a conversation exactly, but he’s such an ass that I had to wait until he was out cold and injured to get a word in edgewise.” Rand joked, and Shannon laughed softly. “Listen Shannon, I know I don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell, but if the events of this past week have taught me anything, it’s that life is way too fucking short. I kissed him while we were on assignment because in all honesty, I’d been wanting to for a while. I don’t know when, where, or how the hell it happened. But somewhere along the way I’ve developed feelings for him, for both of you.”
Rory struggled to speak, but the haze of morphine covered him like a force field, no sounds or thoughts able to escape. “I…shit, Rand, this is so not fair. I love him, I really do, and then you say all that.…Fuck. I’m torn up, Rory’s been shot, and now you’re laying this shit on me while my nerves are raw, and it’s not fair, Rand.”
Shannon was crying, Rand shushing him, promising that everything would be okay, that Rory would be okay. Would he? How could they know? In an instant, all the pain and uncertainty was replaced with real, actual fear, and Rory found it hard to breathe. What if he was stuck in this dark place, in limbo…forever? The machines he was attached to beeped relentlessly, and Rand was shouting expletives at someone. Still, Rory couldn’t move past the feeling of drowning, of dying in the damn bed he was confined to while Shannon and Rand stood by, unable to do anything about it.
“Hey, calm down. Shan and I are here, and we aren’t going anywhere, but we need you to calm down, Rory.”
Rand! He cried out, but his voice was stuck on mute.
Just as quickly as he’d gone off the deep end, Rory calmed when he felt his fingers tingling, a warm hand wrapping around his. He’d have to be dead not to recognize Shannon’s long, nimble fingers. The beeping slowed to a less unnerving pace, though stone silence would have been better. His other hand was lifted, large, callused fingers gripping his smaller ones, grip tight and assured. “There you go, babe, that’s it.” Shannon sounded positively gleeful and lightened Rory’s soul. Being the cause of pain for someone you loved was a damn hard thing to deal with. Even if he didn’t have any control over the circumstances.
“Sleep, okay? We’ll be here when you wake,” Rand’s calm, controlled voice was the last thing he heard, sans the incessant noise from the goddamn terminal they had him hooked up to. And then, ah yes, bliss. There were a few brief seconds to wonder which one pushed the button. But the complete feeling of ease that had settled over Rory’s limbs lulled him into the darkness as the people and the room faded away again.