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Wading with an Octopus (Beneath Aquatica's Waves Book 4) by Charlie Richards (7)

Chapter Seven

 

 

“Well, holy shit! Now I know it’s serious.”

Grisham lifted his gaze from where he stared, frowned really, thoughtfully into his coffee cup. He watched his older brother, Graham, use a foot to hook the leg of the metal, outdoor chair, and plop into it. Graham rested his forearms on the outdoor bistro-style restaurant’s table and leaned toward him. His brows were furrowed, and he swept a worried gaze over him.

“What are you talking about?” Grisham asked, straightening in his chair as he gave his brother a narrow-eyed stare.

Graham’s expression grew serious. “You’re wearing the exact same look as when you told me you were gay—frustrated, worried, with a smattering of fear and discomfort.” His brother’s serious, brown-eyed gaze searched Grisham’s own. “Work or love life?”

Grisham opened his mouth, then shut it again. “Uh... both, actually,” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat a little.

For a couple of seconds, Graham gaped—not a look Grisham saw often on his older brother. Then he grinned widely as he stood—also a strange expression, since the man was normally a serious Navy Seal. “Well, I know you can’t tell me about work, but I want to hear all about the love life.” As a military man, Graham understood the need for discretion. “Let me get a cappuccino.” He pointed at Grisham’s nearly empty coffee cup. “Need another?”

Grisham nodded. “Thanks.”

Watching his brother head inside the coffee shop, Grisham tried to decide exactly what to tell Graham... and how. It wasn’t as if he could say... well, my lover is an octopus shifter, and his boss says that one of the richest men in the state is corrupt. Grisham had no clue how to process everything he’d been told the prior day.

That still hadn’t stopped him from sending Cuzco’s bosses away before laying his lover down in his bed. The sex had been amazing—beyond amazing. It had been even better than the first evening, which he’d never experienced before.

In the past, Grisham had been able to fuck and move on.

Not this time.

Grisham hadn’t wanted to chalk it up to the whole mate thing that had been explained to him, but it kept rattling around in his brain. Cuzco had told him he’d give him as much time as he needed to accept it. When Grisham had left his lover snoozing in his bed that morning—a first for him, since he’d never allowed a man to stay at his place without him there—it had been damn hard to leave.

Still, he didn’t know if he could go through with the whole, Cuzco needed to fuck him, thing. Grisham hadn’t given his ass to anyone since he was sixteen and exploring his sexuality. His asshole clenched at his thoughts even as his heart rate spiked in his chest.

He couldn’t deny there was a certain amount of excitement mixed with his trepidation.

Cuzco was definitely something else.

But what about what Kaiser wanted him to do? Open a file on Armando and—

“Okay,” Graham said, announcing his return. He settled in the seat across from Grisham and placed a fresh coffee before both of them. “Tell me everything. Name. What he looks like. What he does.” Grinning widely, Graham lifted his cup as he added, “Where you met.”

Grisham wrapped his hands around the fresh sixteen-ounce paper cup and pulled it toward him, struggling with where to begin. Graham had always been his sounding board in the past, so on instinct, he’d called his brother while in the break room at work and had set up this meeting for lunch. Except, now that he was there, Grisham didn’t know what to say.

Just as Grisham opened his mouth, Graham grimaced and set his cup down. He swallowed hard as he pushed his cup toward Grisham while grabbing the cup from between his hands. “Ugh, too bitter. Wrong cup. Sorry.”

Letting Graham switch cups, knowing his brother enjoyed his drink a little on the sweet side, he wrapped his fingers around the drink his brother had just tried. As he watched, Graham took a sip of the coffee he’d taken from Grisham and grunted happily. Then his brother leaned his elbows on the table and grinned.

“Well?” Graham pressed. “So. Where’d you meet? Was it on the job?”

Grisham figured that was a fair place to start. “I was on an arrest when I spotted him, yes.” Seeing Graham’s eyes light up and a grin split his features, Grisham continued, “Even while cuffing the perp, I couldn’t help admiring his red and black hair and deep brown eyes. He—”

“Wait, red and black hair?” Graham grinned broadly as Grisham nodded. “Damn, bro! You must have it bad. Never seen you go for a guy with dyed hair.” He winked. “And deep brown eyes? Mmm-mmm, sounds like you got it bad!”

“Graham.” Grisham growled his brother’s name.

Graham managed to snicker and take a sip of his coffee at the same time. “I’m happy for you, bro. How long have you been dating him?”

“Uh... two days.”

Upon hearing Grisham’s muttered words, Graham’s eyes widened. “Two days? Wow! I—”

As Graham had been speaking, Grisham lifted his cup to his lips. He felt his ears burning and knew he blushed. Before the thick paper reached his lips, he saw his brother wince, his entire body tensing.

Grisham lowered his cup. “You okay?”

Graham rested his cup on the table as he gripped his stomach with the other. “Damn. I—” He hissed. “Uh, just felt a sharp pang, and—” Graham’s eyes widened as a gasp escaped him.

“Come on.” Leaping to his feet, Grisham leaped around the table and wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “I think maybe I should take you to—”

Just as Grisham helped Graham to his feet, pushing his chair back in the process, his brother let out a low groan. His knees buckled, nearly toppling them both. Grisham lowered Graham to the ground just in time to watch his brother vomit up coffee and the remains of whatever he’d had for breakfast.

Fear spiked through him as he yanked out his cell phone, keeping one arm around his brother’s torso. His hard, military brother had always seemed so strong. Seeing him cut low by some stomach bug scared the ever-loving shit out of Grisham.

Upon hearing the emergency operator answer the line, Grisham barked, “This is Detective Grisham Canton, badge number six-eight-nine-nine-seven. Ten-fifty-two urgent at the corner of Third and Lincoln in front of Café Bistro Romero,” he stated, calling for an ambulance.

“Ten-fifty-two confirmed. ETA four minutes,” the operator replied.

“Be advised,” Grisham continued, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt Graham shudder beneath his grip. “He’s my brother.”

“Noted.”

Grisham set his phone aside as he struggled to figure out what the fuck was going on. “Breathe, Graham,” he urged softly, bending so his head was close to his brother’s. “Can you talk to me? Were you planning on telling me about a medical problem? What’s going on?”

Surely there had to be a simple, logical explanation for this, right?

“N-No, nothing,” Graham wheezed between harsh breaths. His dark eyes narrowed and glazed with pain. “Always been healthy, bro. Kinda required. You know that. I—” Moaning, he hung his head again as his body bucked, but he didn’t have anything left in his stomach to upchuck.

“An ambulance is on the way,” Grisham assured his brother. “Just focus on breathing, man. It’ll be here in just a couple minutes.”

Grisham watched Graham nod, his expression twisted with pain. Rubbing his brother’s arm with one hand, he continued to grip his waist with his other, holding him. Murmuring words of encouragement, he did his best to hide his fear.

Graham was his family. His only family. No way did he want anything to happen to him.

Plus, Graham had always been so strong.

While they waited, Grisham ordered everyone back. He waved away assistance from well-meaning fellow coffee-drinkers. Even the manager appeared, standing around and looking concerned.

To Grisham’s relief, the sound of the ambulance reached his ears. “Here they come, Gray,” he murmured as the vehicle screeched to a stop on the street in front of the café. “They’re gonna take care of you.”

“Hope so.” Graham groaned roughly, his teeth grinding as he shuddered. “‘Cause this sucks. Never felt—” He hissed.

“Hey, buddy!” a paramedic crooned, skidding to a stop beside them, a bag in hand. “Talk to me. How ya feelin’, man?” The dark-haired man flashed a quick glance Grisham’s way. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” Graham responded, a shudder working through him. “Largest concentration in my gut, though.”

Grisham quickly gave the man a rundown of what happened as the second paramedic—a broad-shouldered blond—joined them. The brunet nodded as he listened, nodding, even as his critical gaze swept over Graham.

“All right, handsome,” the blond rumbled. “Let’s see if we can’t make you more comfortable.”

Easing away from his brother, Grisham watched as the pair worked. Their movements were swift and sure, and they coordinated easily with each other. Grisham followed as they loaded his brother into the ambulance. The brunet climbed in back while the blond jogged around to the driver’s seat.

“Can you give me an idea of what it is?” Grisham asked, concern riding him. He flashed his badge when the paramedic glanced his way, adding, “I’m his brother.”

“Maybe food poisoning... or poisoning of some kind, but we’ll know more after we get some bloodwork drawn up.” The guy began pulling away, shouting, “We’re at St. Ives.”

Grisham already knew that, but he nodded anyway as he took a step backward. He took two steps in the direction of his Jeep, intending to follow, then changed his mind. Remembering that his brother claimed to be healthy and didn’t know why he was sick, coupled with the idea of poisoning, Grisham returned to his table.

While it was just a hunch, Grisham had learned to trust his gut. He grabbed both coffees off the table, then headed to his Jeep. After he’d climbed in and began heading toward the hospital, Grisham began dialing.

Halfway through, he disconnected, scowling when he felt that niggle—a hunch.

Grisham dialed another number.

“Hi, Grish,” Cuzco greeted. “How’s work?”

“Work is fine, but I have a problem.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Grisham felt his chest warm upon hearing his lover’s immediate reply, and he couldn’t beat back a smile—even with the fear still pounding through him.

Good grief, he’s so damn open. Always wanting to please.

“I was having lunch with my brother, and he got sick. He’s headed to the hospital.” Grisham heard Cuzco’s gasp and murmur of concern, but he didn’t stop to hear the platitudes he knew the man would offer. Instead, he asked, “Do you and your, uh... people have a lab or chemical guy? He might have been poisoned.”

“Of course. I’ll go find Emmanuel,” Cuzco immediately replied. “Where can we meet you? What hospital?”

Relief and something else flooded Grisham as he relayed where he’d be.

For the first time in so very long, Grisham realized he had someone other than his brother to watch his back... and he wanted to keep it.

 

* * * *

 

Cuzco couldn’t even describe the overwhelming swell of pride he felt that Grisham had come to him with his problem, especially since he hadn’t even known his mate had a brother. They hadn’t done a whole lot of talking about family while they were together, after all. Instead, they’d discussed mating, shifters, and Grisham’s work... in between bouts of sex.

Not that the sex wasn’t amazing, because it was truly out of this world, but as Cuzco hustled to his car, he realized he and his mate still had plenty to talk about.

Having already contacted Emmanuel, Cuzco climbed into his car and fired up the engine. The seal shifter had agreed to meet him at the hospital where Grisham was headed. Emmanuel was a chemist, and while his job description made him sound like the guy who kept all the tank water healthy for the marine life, he also had a huge lab where he worked on... other stuff.

Cuzco didn’t really understand any of it, but he knew Emmanuel was the man for the job.

Racing through the streets, Cuzco barely contained his need to get to his mate, to offer him support and comfort. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would poison Graham. Did the man do something that caused him to have enemies?

While driving, Cuzco put in a call to Beta William, letting him know of what happened. The beta told him to keep him apprised of the situation and offered kind words to pass along to Grisham. Cuzco promised to do so.

Cuzco parked, then jogged swiftly toward the entrance. Entering the waiting room, he wrinkled his nose at the heavy scents of disinfectant, despair, and too many humans in an enclosed space. Glancing around, Cuzco spotted Grisham rising from his chair and striding toward him.

“Grish!” Cuzco cried, closing the distance between them. When he reached Grisham, he lifted a hand, then lowered it, uncertain of his mate’s comfort level at public displays.

Grisham wrapped his arms around Cuzco and pulled him close, seemingly having no such qualms. “Thank you so much for coming,” he murmured into Cuzco’s ear. Grisham rested one hand on Cuzco’s hip while rubbing up and down his spine with the other. “You have no idea what it means to me.”

“Always,” Cuzco replied, cuddling in close. After a few seconds of enjoying his mate’s embrace, he softly asked, “Any news about your brother?”

Sighing, Grisham eased his hold while shaking his head. His expression appeared pained. “No. Still waiting.”

“Cuzco?”

Turning, Cuzco eased partway out of Grisham’s hold, appreciating how his mate continued to keep his left arm around his waist. “Emmanuel. Thank you so much for coming.” Cuzco indicated his mate. “This is Grisham. He’s the one who needs your, uh... specialties.”

“Call me Grisham... or Cuzco’s mate,” Grisham murmured, holding out his right hand. “Thank you for coming.”

Cuzco felt as if his heart skipped a beat in his chest. Had Grisham really said that? Seeing Emmanuel’s grin as he shook his mate’s hand, Cuzco knew he wasn’t the only one who’d heard those words.

Emmanuel released Grisham’s hand while winking at Cuzco. “Congrats, guys.” Then he sobered swiftly. “I understand you have something you need me to look at?”

Grisham glanced around, then led the way to an empty corner of the waiting room. “My Jeep is in that direction.” He pointed before pulling out his keys. He handed them to Cuzco. “There are two paper cups from Café Bistro Romero. My brother collapsed after drinking out of one. I just”—he shook his head once as his brows furrowed—”a hunch.”

Cuzco nodded. “We’ll find your Jeep, and I’ll give him the cups.”

“Come back then, huh?”

Grisham’s quiet request warmed Cuzco from the inside out. He nodded eagerly. “I will.”

After Grisham pecked one more kiss to Cuzco’s lips, he released him. Hustling from the hospital, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as he took in Grisham’s crossed arms and bowed head.

Cuzco needed to get back to Grisham as swiftly as possible. With his instinct driving him, he searched the parking lot for his lover’s Jeep. Spotting it, he jogged in that direction.

After Cuzco had given Emmanuel the cups, the fellow shifter offered him a reassuring smile. “I’ll get back to my lab and analyze these. If there’s anything to find, I’ll do it.” After bumping Cuzco’s shoulder, he headed toward his own vehicle, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“Thanks!” Cuzco called, then returned to the hospital and his waiting mate.