Chapter Twenty-Seven

DALTON COULDN’T breathe.

He blinked awake, his eyebrows drawing down as a jolt of panic hit him.

“Shhh. Dee, it’s okay. It’s cool. You had surgery.” Dustin was there, looking down into his eyes.

“Bubba.” His voice didn’t sound like his. “It was Rocket. Rocket did this to me.”

“Rocket’s in jail, Dee.”

“They found him before you did, huh?”

“Before me, Deb. Tank. Buick. Momma. Dakota….”

“Oh God.”

“Pops was pretty mean about it. Made us sit.” Dustin chuckled. “You know how he is.”

“Uh-huh.” He held his brother’s gaze. That had scared him. Bad.

“I know, Dee. I hear you. You’re good.”

“Tank? Is he okay?”

“He’s sacked out in the waiting room. Took them until three to find a bed for you. He was with you the whole way.” Dustin stood up and sat back down. “Momma and them headed home. Deb will ride safety man next weekend. You get a vacation.”

“What if I don’t want one?” He couldn’t laugh; it hurt too much.

“Too bad. Tank’ll get one too. That leg of his needs rest. Y’all can hold down the fort.”

“He hurt his leg again?” Dalton tried to sit up, but that was a huge mistake.

“Hey! Hey!” Dustin grabbed him, pushed him back. “You got to stop that.”

“Sorry.” He wheezed a moment, the thing in his nose annoying the shit out of him but making him feel better too. “Damn.”

“He’s fine. Y’all need to breathe. You hear me? You need to blow up balloons and learn to be a couple.” Dustin’s hand was heavy on his chest, keeping him still. “You can let Dakota cook for you.”

“Poison me, more like.”

Dustin snorted. “Like you need anyone else trying to kill you, ass-hat.”

“Yeah. Yeah, did you…?” Kill him? Did you get yourself in trouble for me?

Dustin shook his head, lips tight. “They took him to county. He shot two police officers when they arrested him. There were lots of pictures and shit in his trailer.”

Dalton shook his head. “I didn’t….”

“He’d put a tracker on your fucking truck, Dee. He’s a psycho.”

“A tracker?”

“Yeah, like an electronic tracer. He had pics of you and Tank at the pool. Hiking. All this shit. Pictures of you sleeping.”

“Stop panicking him, Dustin. Rocket’s in jail.”

Dustin whipped around, stared at Tank. “What?”

Dalton gasped for breath, trying to get any real air.

Tank came over and slid an arm behind his back, lifting him a tiny bit. The pressure eased.

“I said stop giving him pictures and stalkers to worry about.”

“Tank.” Oh Jesus. Jesus. This was his fault. “Sorry.”

“Shh. Hush now. You need to rest. Dustin, can you go get some water? They said he could have sips.”

“I know you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“Uh-huh. Totally.”

Dustin laughed, but bent to kiss Dalton’s forehead. “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria. I’ll tell the tech about the water.”

Tank sat on the edge of the bed as soon as Dustin left, fingers sliding on his arm.

“You-you okay?”

Tank nodded. “My knee is all swole. I jumped a long way into the arena, then carried you out. I was feeling that adrenaline.”

“You ought to see Doc. I’ll rub it for you.” Later, when his body didn’t feel like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“I know you will. Right now it’s all salve and wraps and ibuprofen. Your doc on call here made me let him look.” Tank bent to kiss him gently. “Scared me.”

“Don’t remember it hurting. Just remember being hot, then cold.”

“It was super fast. He paid Chip to let him wear his vest and chaps and hat.”

Sick fucker. Dalton didn’t understand. “He didn’t even want me, Tank.”

“But he didn’t want anyone else to have you.” Tank shrugged. “He’s a fucking nutbar, baby. You had no way to know.”

“Want to go home.” He reached out, touched Tank’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“Soon, baby. They said as long as I could get you to agree to bed rest, you could go home after a few days of breathing therapy.” Tank stroked his forehead. “You want to agree to resting with me?”

“I might could do that. With you.”

“I think I could too. I’m supposed to keep my leg up and just do some water therapy.” Tank was smiling for him, which eased the deep lines in his face.

“Is that code for soaking in the hot tub?”

“Yep. Screw the water aerobics.” Tank raised his eyebrows. “Until you can do some working out.”

“Then we have the pool. Skinny dipping.” He wasn’t sure he’d get it up for weeks, but it would happen eventually, right?

“We’ll get there. Took Jimmy Haines six weeks to finally blow up a balloon.”

Oh man. That was right. He was going to be on balloon duty. Son of a bitch.

Tank stroked his hair back from his head. “You need a shower.”

“God yes. I don’t think they’ll let me yet. Soon.”

“Yeah, not until the oxygen thing is out.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Hey, Mr. Jakoby. I brought you some water. They said you could have some broth. Did you want me to help order some?”

Broth. Goodie. “How about a pizza?”

“Sorry.” She gave him the same sympathetic look he’d been getting all day.

“He’ll live.” Tank winked at him, grinned at her. “Broth sounds great.”

“You got it.” She smiled and headed out, ponytail flipping.

Dalton watched her, feeling old for a second. Lord have mercy. He was getting maudlin. Stabbings must do that to him.

“Broth.” Tank rolled his eyes. “Let it go, and they’ll give you coffee in the morning.”

“You could get it for me now….”

“Nope. You need to sleep, baby. Right now that’s the most important part of healing.” Tank grinned over at him. “There’s a reason we told Ben to stay home.”

“Because he’d have sprung me already, and we’d be on a bass boat somewhere?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Dalton laughed, then winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t you apologize for that sorry son of a bitch, not even a little.” Lord, Tank could growl. “It was your daddy’s will alone that kept us from hunting him.”

“Pops’s moral compass is wound tighter than most.” God knew Momma would just tear a man’s throat out with her teeth. Menopause wasn’t being kind.

“Yeah. He was right. The bastard would have tried to take us all with him.”

The bastard had done a damn good job on him already, Dalton guessed.

Tank took his hand. “We’re moving on, baby. He’s not gonna get out of jail.”

“I hope not. I’m ready for it, if it happens.”

“There? See? We got more important things to talk about.” Tank rubbed circles on his skin with one thumb.

“We do? What?” That was hypnotizing.

“Like how much I love you.”

Oh, now that was a decent thought. “You do, huh? It’s not just the amazing sex and the fact that I have a pool?”

“Nope. Not even the life-threatening stress situation.” Tank grinned. “Though those do tend to lend focus.”

“So, you think we might be a going thing?” He liked that idea. “I do like the way you work, and I got a thing for the way you make coffee in the morning.” Hell, he’d been in love with Tank Martin since the first time he’d seen the man, whether or not that was smart or reasonable or whatever.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him about his own heart.

Well, maybe Bubba, because they had the same heartbeat, but he didn’t doubt that.

“I think so. We got a lot of details to iron out, you and me, but I’m in it for the long haul.” That smile told him Tank meant every word.

“Details are easy, so long as we’re riding the same trail.” He twined their fingers together. “I have to warn you, being one of us is… intense.”

“I’ve had a taste.” Tank shrugged. “I’m tired of going it alone. Y’all are willing to take me, and I’m grateful.”

“Willing? Thomas Martin, I’m willing to fight the world for you.”

“We have a lot in common.” Tank bent to kiss his mouth, not long enough to bother his breathing, but warm and sweet.

His eyes closed, and he moaned, the sound satisfied, settled.

Now he could rest. Now he could heal, all the way.