Bellann Summer's Blog, page 2

Chapter Four

 Good Morning

I want to thank you for your support in these challenging times. They are much appreciated.

I have to warn you that the end of today's chapter may have you wanting to throw something. I was taught the goal of a chapter was to end it so the reader doesn't put the book down. To tease them to want to see what happens next. 

Obviously I do well with that concept. I almost included the first paragraph of the next chapter. Almost, but didn't. I will keep posting chapters until the end of the book or I don't have any more finished. 

Have a great week.

Stunned, Roman left the ICU. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and made his way down the hall. At the end, he stood in between a pair of comfortable sitting chairs and in front of a large window.

A vibration and high-pitched ping in his pocket indicated an incoming call.

His gaze traveled over a large parking lot below with its sea of cars and trucks. So many shapes, sizes, and colors parked between lemony yellow lines. On the edges of the giant slab of black asphalt, were ornamental trees and shrubs, all sculptured into pleasing symmetricity.

Behind him, someone cut off a cellphone’s ring. Low murmuring faded as the person moved away.

Roman observed people leaving their vehicles and rushing toward the hospital’s entrances. Others carried a suitcase or large bag while taking their time getting to their destination. Roman watched a man, carrying a plant in one hand and in the other a string attached to a glittering pink balloon, making his way toward a shiny SUV. Nothing in the man’s light steps were similar to an old man, with slumped shoulders and shuffles, dragging and slow, as he walked to his late model sedan. So many different scenarios and outcomes.

Movement on the left and across the way by the main wing of the hospital caught his attention. He watched cars, mini-vans, and SUV’s pull into the cul-de-sac in front of the main entrance of the hospital.

His gaze was drawn to the bright white of a large SUV. He watched a man, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and boots immerge from a dark sedan in front of the SUV. Roman would know that getup anywhere. Morgan had arrived.  

The glass doors of the hospital slid open and Roman recognized Tatum’s shaggy blond head as he walked out into the sunshine, pushing a wheelchair.

Morgan walked over to greet his husband, and Tatum took a quick kiss. Tatum must have said something, because Morgan turned toward the white SUV.

Roman watched as the members of his team who had been with Lee leave the SUV. After stepping out of the vehicle, Parker turned back and helped a tall man, sporting an arm wrapped in bandages and wearing a demobilizing sling.

“The circumstances aren’t the best, but for the first time in a long time, the whole team will be in one place,” Rhys observed from beside Roman.

Not quite. Roman thought of Rhys’s statement.

“Flyer isn’t back from California.” Roman continued to watch cars entering and leaving the parking lot. One would pull out of a parking space, and another would pull in. The cycle went on no matter the drama happening inside the building, or maybe because of the events inside the building.

“I just talked to him,” Rhys answered. “He and Styx are on their way from the airport. He said the airdrop was a bit sketchy. The fire had stirred up the air currents. The fire captain got on the horn and thanked Flyer for the supplies. They only have twenty-five percent of the fire contained and in that remote of an area, anything to make life easier is appreciated.”

Roman didn’t reply. He had exhausted his interest in the subject. He watched a lady park her truck, jump out, and run toward the hospital. She carried no purse and hadn’t locked the vehicle.

“I’m going to meet the guys, captain,” Rhys said. “I’ll be right back.”

Roman noted that a couple of trucks had turned into the parking lot in quick succession…

 

* * * *

Rhys Kent Beck shoved his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around Jimmy’s cell phone that he’d picked up off the hallway floor. Shit, the situation had gone from fucked up to hell in a handbasket.

Reese was fighting for his life in the ICU, Jimmy was fighting for his life on the operating table, and Roman had zoned out. Not that Rhys blamed him. Jimmy was the chink in the strong man’s armor. He could understand Roman needing to take a few minutes to process Jimmy’s collapse and the nurse’s announcement.

Turned out that the gray haired, bespectacled guy in the ICU was a Vascular Surgeon who was checking on one of his patients. He recognized Jimmy’s symptoms and the imperative need to get him to the operating room.

If the suspected tear of an abdominal aorta aneurism was the correct diagnosis, minutes could decide the either positive or negative outcome. Rhys was no medic, but what little he knew of that type of aneurism, if Jimmy made it through the surgery, there could be serious questions of quality and length of life expectancy. Damn, just damn.

Rhys hurried to find the guys. He needed to update them on the situation.

He left the elevator and spotted the group surrounding Tristen. His first glimpse of Lee had him adding another challenge to the shit storm. Lee’s pasty white and sweaty skin, and hunched shoulders screamed pain to Rhys. The man needed to be in a hospital bed, not a wheelchair.

“Hey,” Rhys said as he walked up, and received greetings back from the group.

Tatum nodded at Rhys. “I’ve been explaining Reese’s condition and Jimmy collapsing.”

“Any news on Jimmy?” Isaiah asked Rhys.

The edginess, that strangling his insides and shouted that their world was out of control, calmed when Rhys looked into Isaiah’s steady green-eyed gaze. The big man, with the teardrop tattoo at the corner of one eye, was the captain’s best friend and second in command of the team. Rhys trusted his leadership to guide the team when they needed his expertise.

  “He’s been rushed to surgery,” Rhys answered. “They think he has an abdominal aorta aneurism, and it may have torn. This is life or death stuff guys.”

“Shit,” Tatum muttered.

“Where’s the surgery waiting room in this joint.” Tristen glanced around. “Hopefully the nurses are keeping Roman up to date.”

“Roman isn’t there.” Rhys met Isaiah’s gaze and tried to convey a million messages. “He’s still up in the ICU hallway.”

“What the hell is he doing there?” Tristen bitched. “He should be with my brother.”

“Santos.” Isaiah turned toward the Latin tracker. “Take Tristen to the surgery waiting room. Tristen, call your parents. Tell them about Jimmy and have them get ready. Once he’s out of surgery and we know more, Flyer can pick them up and bring them here.”

Rhys watched Carson slip his hand into Isaiah’s. A hollow pain of loneliness settled in his chest and he wished his cowboy were here. Rhys went to pull Jimmy’s phone out of his pocket and his fingers brushed against a small familiar object. Warmth chased away the emptiness with the touch of Joe’s secret kisses. Rhys knew he’d find more of the chocolate candies his husband had no doubt stashed in various pockets and his overnight clothes bag. Man, just when he thought he couldn’t love Joe any deeper, his cowboy did something to turn Rhys’s heart into a blob of softer mush.

Rhys removed the phone and held it out. “Tristen, here’s Jimmy’s phone.”

“Thanks.” Tristen’s hand shook as he took the devise.

Tristen looked up at his husband, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Santos put an arm around Tristen’s shoulders and together they turned toward a hallway marked with a surgery sign and an arrow.

Rhys noticed that Isaiah’s gaze had turned toward the man in the wheelchair and a hovering Parker. Sweat soaked through the neck material of Lee’s shirt and his normally tanned skin had gone from pale to pasty gray.

“Can you manage to take him to the emergency department by yourself or do you want some help?” Isaiah asked Parker.

“I don’t need any emergency room. I need to be with Reese.” The slurred words and soft groan that escaped ruined Lee’s objection.

Isaiah’s dark eyebrows lowered, and a shiver rippled over Rhys’s skin. Not many people went up against the deadly weapons expert.

“You’re no good to Reese if you collapse and end up being admitted to a different part of the hospital.”

“Not going,” Lee declared.

Parker stepped behind Lee’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles. “We’re off. I’ll keep you updated.”

 Rhys held back a smile as his teammate pushed a grumbling Lee toward a corridor, marked Emergency Department. Underneath Parker’s smaller frame and quietness, lie a feisty attitude, when the long fuse of his temper had run out. Lee may as well give in. Rhys had no doubts that Parker would deliver him to Reese in better shape than he was in at the moment.

Isaiah turned to Tatum and Morgan. Tatum encircled the back of Morgan’s neck, pulled him close, and kissed the side of his face. The tech genius’s eyelids closed halfway, and a soft smile curved his lips.

Morgan had flourished over the years under his dominating husband’s brand of loving. He still had his snarky moments, but most of the time happiness had smoothed out some of his sharp edges.

“Do you have a problem going up to the ICU?” Isaiah asked.

Morgan looked at Isaiah with one eyebrow raised. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m would think the elevator or stairs work just fine.”

“Good, don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way through.” Isaiah’s tone hadn’t changed but his irritation shown through, nevertheless. “Reese needs our support.”

“Of course.”

Rhys didn’t buy Morgan’s easy agreement. Storm clouds of emotion reflected in the computer expert’s hazel colored eyes. Morgan had a history with Reese and his relationship with Lee hadn’t warmed up over last couple of years.

“Do what you need to do to get inside and visit Reese,” Isaiah ordered.

Morgan didn’t comment or wait for any more direction. Instead, he saluted Isaiah and headed toward the elevator doors.

The corner of Tatum’s mouth lifted as he watched his husband’s actions before looking at Isaiah.

“We’ll make sure Reese knows that Lee’s is on his way and that the team is here supporting him.”

“I had no doubts,” Isaiah replied, and his eyebrow raised once again. “About either of you.”

Rhys watched Tatum nod at their lethal teammate before following his husband. The next moment the heavy weight of Isaiah’s gaze settled on him.

“Go down and meet Flyer and Styx.” The corner of Isaiah’s mouth tightened. “I hate to do it. I know they want to be here, showing their support, but have them grab something to eat and go back to the plane. Tell them to camp out there and have the plane on standby.”

“Got it.”

Rhys hurried toward the elevators, glad for something to take his mind off missing a certain cowboy, his boss, the boss’s husband, Reese in the ICU, and the turbulence he sensed in his teammates that he didn’t think was going to be over for a long time to come.

 

* * * *

 

Garrett McKaly ignored the dull ache in his knees and continued to kneel on the thick exercise mat. He lifted Tolliver’s leg and with a slow, gentle motions eased the slim leg up, flexing his husband’s hip. With practiced moves, he pushed the leg toward Toliver’s chest, bending the stiff joint of his knee to a hair’s breath below comfort level.

His brave husband winced, but no groans escaped. They performed these exercises at dawn’s early hour every other day in an effort to keep Tolliver mobile. They would have, perhaps, another half hour of privacy until the members of the house awoke to start another new day.

On alternated days, Tolliver lifted weights to strengthen his arms and chest muscles, and they took a long walk. Warmth flooded him as he thought of the entourage they accumulated as most times as dogs, children and sometimes a baby may accompany them. The supposed therapeutic exercises turned into great adventures everyone loved.

“Why the smile?” Tolliver breath puffed out as Garrett again bent his leg.

“I was thinking about the life we have here.”

“Los Héroes is a special place.” In the morning’s dim light, Tolliver’s gaze danced from the plants to the pool, and to the glass ceiling of the enclosed courtyard centered in the middle of the hacienda. “It sure would suck to have to leave.”

Garrett stopped messaging Tolliver’s straining muscles and peered at his husband, not sure the direction of his line of thinking. “Why do you say that, my wee one.”

Tolliver held out his hand. A hand that a kidnapper and tormenter had dislocated and broken every finger. Garrett grabbed a bottle of warming lotion from a small bag filled with supplies and began trying to sooth the damaged joints.

“Sure, Tristen’s a drama queen, but that call to his mother was brutal.” Tolliver flipped his hand over and tugged Garrett to lie down next to him. “I thought she was going to have a heart attack when he told her that Jimmy is in surgery with a possible ruptured aneurism. Tristen sure swore up a storm when she told him that her uncle had died from one of those.” The tiny lines fanning out from Tolliver’s eyes, deepened. “According to Tristen, Jimmy is in trouble and Roman’s being a dick. I’m not sure Roman or the team would survive if Jimmy didn’t make it through the surgery. He’s the glue around here.”

“I think we should wait until we have more information before we start packing our bags,” Garrett cautioned.

Tolliver’s big blue eyes widened before the small slender man narrowed his gaze. Desire tingled in Garrett’s belly. Under his husband’s soft-spoken exterior lay a man with great insight to human nature, with a bit of fire thrown in that heated Garrett’s blood into a potent mixture of want and need.

“You know what?” Tolliver’s jaw hardened with determination. “You’re right. Everyone here has gone through mega-shit and survived. Not only survived but grown into a tight family. We may stumble but we’re not going to let what we’ve built slip away so easily.”

Tolliver’s bottom lip trembled betraying his underlying fear.

Garrett cupped his husband’s cheek. “We made it through losing Reese to the beach, we’ll get through this bump in the road. You and I, as a team, and this family as a whole are unbeatable.”

“Do you promise on your grandmother’s big left toe?”

Garrett tipped his head back and laughed at the question Tolliver always asked when he needed reassurance. His husband brought him joy as no other in the world could.

“You have my promise, my wee one.” Garrett captured Tolliver’s plump lips in a kiss and explored his mouth.

Tolliver pushed up the edge of Garrett’s shirt and stroked his fingers through the hair covering his chest and belly.

“Please,” Tolliver whispered against Garrett’s lips.

Garrett rubbed his nose against his lover’s. “What are you asking me for?”

“You,” Tolliver replied. “All of you, inside and all around. Fill me. Love me. Give me a few minutes of normal before we have to face the craziness again.”

Garrett’s cock went from zero to hello baby in three seconds flat. Not bad for a man in his fifties.

His slender, fragile husband knew Garrett’s hot spots. Tolliver’s busy hand dipped under the waistband of his pants and brushed over that sensitive hallow spot next to his hip. Tingling goosebumps rose and pre-come dripped.

Tolliver skimmed his finger over the tip of Garrett’s cockhead before pulling his hand out of Garrett’s pants and licking the wetness. The act sent blood pounding and his cock throbbed.

Garrett made short work of Tolliver’s shirt and pants. Not wasting a second of their alone time, he leaned over and sucked Tolliver’s slim cock deep into his mouth.

Tolliver arched his back and groaned. Garrett used his tongue to caress the smoothness of his wee one’s hard shaft. One long intense suck and spurts of cum coated Garrett’s tongue.

Garrett had to let go of his prize when Tolliver tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it away. Bare chested, he looked down at his soulmate.

Their gazes locked together. “I love you, my wee one.”

“I love you, too.” The corner of Tolliver’s mouth lifted.” Now, hurry up, one climax is never enough.”

“Greedy,” Garrett teased.

Tolliver chuckled, “Always.”

Garrett shed his pants while Tolliver reached for a bottle of slick, they kept in the small supply bag. Once he settled down next to Tolliver, he brushed his fingers down the sweet man’s chest, concaved belly, and over one slim thigh. Tolliver’s cock had reawakened and now bobbed, hard and needy.

“Here.” Tolliver squeezed the bottle, coating Garrett’s fingers with the clear gel. The bottle shook and sweat shown on his forehead.

Garrett made it his life’s work to see to his wee one’s needs. That Tolliver longed his loving made the giving all the more special. Time to get down to the good stuff.

Tolliver’s tight bud gave away under Garrett’s slick covered finger and his fingertip sank into his husband’s warm tightness. Garrett worked at softening the muscle guarding Garrett’s idea of paradise. It gave away and his finger slid deep.

“More.” Tolliver’s pumped his hips.

Garrett granted his husband’s wish and eased in a second finger. He watched his fingers slide in and out as he fought the overpowering need to bury his cock inside that sweet hole.

One more finger had Tolliver squeezing his muscles. “So full, damn, I’m going to come again.”

“Breathe, baby.” Garrett pulled his fingers free and coated his throbbing cock with slick before moving between Tolliver’s legs and lifting his hips. His lined up his cock and push inside. “Sweet mother of mercy.”

Tolliver gasped, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

The ride was glorious as Garrett thrusted deep, prying between the walls of Tolliver’s hole.

All sounds faded except the blood roaring in his ears. Tolliver’s legs gripped his hips, and the small man took his cock deeper. Every plunge in was exquisite and every pull out heightened the pleasure. The base of Garrett’s spine tingled, indicated his orgasm was close.

Tolliver’s cry had Garrett looking down to find his husband pumping his cock between tight fingers as pearls of white cum spurted over his hand.

Garretts’s gut tightened, and pressure built. His balls pulled up and cum barreled down the length of his cock. The explosion pulled a groan from Garrett as he bathed his husband’s hole with jet after jet of cum.

Once he finished, Garrett pulled out and collapsed next to Tolliver. He needed a moment.

A boneless Tolliver managed to bend his elbow and wave his hand in the air.

“Damn, we’re good.”

Garrett had to agree. Far off inside the hacienda he heard the faint ring of a phone. Their small snatch of alone time had ended, and it was time to face the future.

Chapter Three

 Happy Labor Day!

Yesterday family came over for hamburgers on the grill. I'm so glad. Mr. B was having a hard time with being in A-fib again. By the afternoon his heart rate settled and he popped out. Yay!!

Today will be a quiet day washing clothes, watering plants, and writing. At least I hope it's quiet. We'll see.

Here's some more of Reese's Return. 

Have a wonderful week.

“On a scale of one to ten, Mr. Sanchez. What is your pain level?”

Lee opened his eyes and looked at the middle-aged nurse. He decided not to throw in a wince or groan in response to her question. The lady’s sharp gaze and cool professionalism told him that she would see through a snow job.  A straightforward answer would get him where he needed to be.

“Seven.”

He watched her touch his fingers.

“Do you have any sensations in your arm, Mr. Sanchez?” The woman’s gentle touch traveled over Lee’s wrapped arm encased in a special sling, keeping his arm stationary against his chest. “Tingling or pricking? If I squeeze your fingers, can you feel anything?”

Lee wondered if she was trying to trick him. He remembered the doc who performed the surgery explaining that the nerve block he’d inserted into his shoulder wouldn’t wear off for around twenty-four hours. He was sure that amount of time hadn’t passed, at least he hoped not. He had things to do.

“Nothing,” Lee answered. Now, if the woman wanted to discuss pain, his side hurt like a bitch. The knife that had messed up his arm had also done a number on his side. According to the same doc who reattached what was left of the tendons and muscles of his arm, had also used a bunch of shiny staples to pull together the flesh of his side. His saving grace had been that no organs were damaged. Yay him.

The nurse let go of his hand. “I’ll go get your medication. We’ll be changing you to oral pain relivers soon.”

“Thank you.” See, he could be nice even if he wanted to swear a blue streak and demand she shoot him up with the good stuff before standing out of his way. No need, at this point, to give away his plans.

The door shut behind her with a quiet click. Lee glanced at and waited for the big black man in the corner to say something. Not much escaped Isaiah Briggs, the deadly weapons expert for Rescue for Hire West. His presence said that Roman was with Reese and soothed a tiny bit of Lee’s concerns. Not enough to stop Lee’s plans.

Isaiah nodded and Lee took that action as an understanding between them. Lee would do what he had decided, and Isaiah knew what he was up to. He saw that the team’s tracker, Santos Elbarize, had caught the exchange. Good, as far as Lee was concerned, they were all on the same page. Mentally he dismissed Isaiah’s husband, Carson, and Santos’s husband, Tristen. No matter how banged up he was, the smaller men wouldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry, I think the feeling in your arm and hand should return in about twelve hours.” Parker Curry Kent, one of the team’s paramedics, reached over and lowered the bedsheet, and began poking at the skin surrounding the bandages covering Lee’s side. “So far there’s no indication of infection. They have you on some powerful antibiotics.”

Lee kept his mouth shut. They had told him Reese was alive and at a different hospital, but nothing more. Too much time had passed since the attack. Something must be wrong. Reese had a deep-seated hatred of hospitals, and no way was he voluntarily staying in one. Whatever the circumstances, Reese needed Lee, and Lee needed to be with him. They were a team against whatever the world threw at them.

The door opened and the nurse entered. “Okay, let’s give you a little something to take the edge off and try to keep ahead of the pain. Next time, Mr. Sanchez, please say something before the pain reaches over the center of the pain chart.”

Lee didn’t bother to answer and watched her insert the drugs into his IV line. He closed his eyes and waited.

Moments or hours later, panic surged through his system. He opened his eyes and sat up. A red hot poker of fire punched through his side. Shit, damn, that hurt.

Lee withdrew into himself and let steely determination take over. He whipped off the sheet and ground his teeth together as he shifted his legs off the bed. He paused and let the fog fade, the room coming back into focus.

“What are you doing?” Parker stood and rushed over to Lee.

“Take out the IV,” Lee ordered. “Or, I will.”

“Lee.” Parker placed his hands over Lee’s. “There’s a good chance you are going to be discharged by this afternoon. Wait until the doctor releases you. You’re going to need the meds he prescribes.”

“Reese won’t wait and if he’s incapable of leaving the hospital, he needs me there.” Lee kept his gaze unwavering as he looked at the smaller man. “I’m leaving now. Help me or get out of my way.”

“I’ll call Roman,” Tristen threatened from his chair next to Santos.

Lee lifted one eyebrow at the pretty man. “Do you think I care?”

“You should,” Tristen replied. “If it weren’t for Roman and Jimmy, we wouldn’t be sitting here and babysitting your sorry ass.”

Lee nodded toward the other side of the room. “There’s the door. After you go through it, leave it open for me.”

“If you were in the hospital, anjinho, nothing would stop me from being at your side.” Santo’s ran a finger down Tristen’s cheek.

Tristen stared at his husband, a soft smile curving his lips. “Even if he manages to walk out of here and get to the hospital, they probably won’t let him into the ICU. They only let Roman see him for fifteen minutes every hour.” Tristen glanced at Lee and sniffed. “I don’t know why he always has to give everyone a hard time.”

Lee had heard enough. He placed his feet on the floor, stood, and sat back down. The room twirled around him as sharp daggers pierced up and down his injured side. An unwanted groan left his lips and he hunched over in pain.

Breathing didn’t matter. Agony, be damned. He fought to push aside all discomfort and tried to stand again.

“Sit.”

The quiet word seeped through the roaring pain. Lee opened his eyes to find Carson standing in front of him and holding a bundle of clothes.

“Your shirt is missing.” Carson lifted the material a few inches as if to show Lee what he carried. “It must not have been salvageable after the attack. I have one of Isaiah’s here that should fit you.” Carson bit into his bottom lip for a moment before continuing. “Can I help you dress?”

Lee knew Carson’s history. The vicious scars bisecting his cheek and across his throat bespoke of the abuse he had endured during a dark time in his life. Lee saw nothing of the pompous, over-confident, and arrogant man he’d heard Carson used to be, in the meek person before him.

Lee relaxed back on the bed and nodded. “Thank you.”

Carsen set the clothes down next to his feet. That was when Lee noticed the smaller man’s hand and arm wasn’t as coordinated as the other. He had forgotten that Carsen had lifelong physical challenges, not only from his abuse but from a plane crash that had killed his abuser.

After arranging Lee’s underwear and shorts, Carsen held them out. “Can you lift your foot?”

Lee ground his teeth together as over the next few minutes pain dragged out into imagined endless hours. By the time his shorts were up around his hips and Parker had helped remove the sling to jury rig the shirt around his bandaged arm and body, sweat dripped down the side of Lee’s face.

“As a medic, I have to advise you to remain in the hospital until the doctor releases you.” Parker adjusted the sling back in place. “As a husband, I understand your need to be with Reese.”

Lee took a few precious minutes to regroup and let the drugs still running through his system create that floaty, on the clouds feeling, that softened the ache in his side. He didn’t dare rest long. Reese needed him.

He looked at Parker. “I’m glad you understand.”

Lee reached over and grabbed a tissue from the box sitting on the portable table next to the bed. One firm tug and the needle in his arm lay on the bed. He pressed the tissue against the hole welling with blood.

Amid the shouts of displeasure, Lee rose and headed for the door. He made it to the lobby of the hospital before reality hit. He had no ride to whichever hospital Reese had been taken to. He reached down into his shorts pocket.

“Are you looking for this?” Tristen held up a small white bag with the hospital emblem decorating the side. The type of bag used to store a patient’s keys, phone and wallet. In his other hand he held Lee’s shoes. Damn.

Lee’s temper simmered before frustration fueled the embers into flames.

“Give me that.” Lee moved toward the little shit. He’d had enough of Tristen’s sarcasm and runaway mouth. The room tilted and Lee caught himself before he faceplanted against the tile floor.

Parker grabbed Lee’s uninjured arm. “Santos went to get our ride. Try to slow your breathing. If you pass out, none of us will stop hospital personal from wheeling you back up to your room.”

“I’m not going to pass out.” Lee jerked his arm from Parker’s grasp. “Nothing will stop me from going to Reese.”

Lee concentrated on the glass doors in front of him. Once he made it through them, he’d centered his attention on the SUV that had pulled up to the curb.

 

* * * *

“What did you say to Morgan?”

Roman stretched his legs to relieve his stiff muscles. Too much coffee congregated as though it were a lead weight in his guts. The previous afternoon and night had seemed endless. The tiny waiting room outside the Intensive Care Unit only contained four chairs. Roman had let family members of other patients have them. Hospital hallway floors were not meant to camp out on. Roman’s body had decided to object to the misuse.

“Nothing.” Roman wiped his hand over his face and waited for the reaction that he knew was coming.

Jimmy’s tantrum the day before had been epic when it became apparent that no one wanted to accompany Isaiah to the hospital where Lee was having surgery. They all wanted to support Reese, not Lee. His feisty husband had let them have it with both barrels of spicy language intended to reprimand and instill guilt at their resentment of Lee. Roman still beamed with pride just thinking of how that scene had played out. His little bit had been magnificent.

“What?” Jimmy pulled away from Roman’s side. “Technically this is a rescue and Morgan opted out of it. Please don’t tell me that you believed all that garbage he was spouting about the children needing him and his skills are better suited in his computer room if we require his services? What a bunch of bunk.”

“It doesn’t matter if I believed him or not.” Roman watched Jimmy rub his stomach. The man had been doing that a lot lately.

Jimmy tipped his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Morgan gave me valid points for his decision to stay at the hacienda.” The corner of Roman’s mouth lifted, and he watched Jimmy’s answering sparkle light up his gorgeous green eyes. “Why would I make him come along when his conscious will do all the work for me? It didn’t escape my notice that Tatum was on the phone the entire plane ride. Morgan has moved on from his past with Reese and Lee. He just hasn’t realized it, yet.”

Jimmy sat back against the wall and chewed on his bottom lip. After a moment he chuckled and shook his head. His gaze shifted and locked onto Roman’s.

“Sometimes you still amaze me,” Jimmy admitted.

Warmth filled Roman’s chest. “That’s why I’m the leader of this team, little bit.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Jimmy’s gaze narrowed. “What blows my mind is that you see and understand everything when it comes to the team and yet, with me, you’re blind as a bat.”

Surprise froze Roman in place. Where the hell had that accusation come from. His mind raced over the last weeks and found nothing out of the ordinary between him and Jimmy.

Before his could respond, Jimmy’s phone rang. As Jimmy swiped a finger over the screen, Roman caught a glimpse of Tristen’s name.

“Be ready, we’re almost there.” The urgency in Tristen’s tone sent Roman sitting up. “Tell Roman that Lee’s flew the coop. He refused to stay in the hospital.”

“What are you talking about? Where are you?” Jimmy demanded.

“We’ve turned onto the drive that takes us up to the front doors of the hospital you’re at,” Tristen answered. “Lee is on some heavy drugs and stung out. Parker is trying to keep him calm, and Isaiah looks ready to knock him out to shut him up. Tell Roman to get his hard as nails ass down here.”

“My husband’s ass is none of your business, brother,” Jimmy sputtered. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

“What-ev-er,” Tristen replied.

Roman snaked his arm around Jimmy’s waist and stood, taking Jimmy with him. Once his still arguing husband was steady on his feet, he let Jimmy go and nodded at Rhys and Tatum, who were already on their feet and waiting. The two men flagged Roman as he headed toward the elevators. He’d stepped into the small compartment, ready to take them down to the lobby, when he realized someone was missing.

He turned around and through the still open doorway he saw Jimmy, standing all alone where Roman had left him. The cellphone lay on the floor at Jimmy’s feet. Jimmy’s face shown stark white, and his eyes were wide. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, his hands clutching his stomach.

Their gazes met.

Roman jumped into action before he thought about it. His senses screamed danger. Something terrible was wrong with his little bit.

As Roman reached Jimmy, the man’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. Roman caught Jimmy’s boneless body before he could hit the floor and scooped him up into his arms.  He never hesitated and whisked Jimmy down the hall. When he reached the ICU doors, he yanked one open and raced inside.

“I need some help here,” he shouted.

Men and women, adorned in white coats and colorful scrubs, swarmed from behind the large workstation and glass enclosed patient rooms.

A gray-haired man with round wire rimmed glasses urged, “Sir, bring him this way.”

Roman carried Jimmy into an empty room and laid him onto the bed. He let himself be pushed backward and out of the way. Instincts told Roman the situation was dire. His heart cried out a prayer that these people could give his Jimmy the help he needed.

An IV was inserted and an oxygen mask placed over Jimmy’s nose. The gray-haired man listened with a stethoscope to different places on Jimmy’s chest and abdomen while a woman in scrubs began cutting off Jimmy’s clothes.  

Roman’s fingers tightened into fists, the helplessness of the moment roaring in his ears. This was his heart. The keeper of his soul. The one who owned every cell of his being.

He tried to slow down his breathing. He tried to grasp onto his ingrained professionalism. To find the calm that had saved many lives. He tried to comprehend what was going on, and failed.

One of the men in white shouted. The words, “shock”, “surgeon” and “stat” filtered into Roman’s wavering understanding. For the first time in his life, a red haze of panicked emotions over-rode his usual steely resolve.

The people in the room began what seemed a choregraphed motion of movement. The rails on either side of the bed were lifted. One person started pushing the rapidly beating heart monitor forward while another grabbed the pole containing multiple IV bags. A man in scrubs stepped on a lever and the bed began to move.

Roman’s arm was grabbed. He looked down to find Rhys urging him to back out of the doorway.

“We have to let them pass, captain.”

Roman blinked and stepped out of the way just as Jimmy was wheeled past him. He reached out and managed a whisper of a touch on his arm. An unwanted voice in his head said this could be the last time he saw Jimmy alive. Roman shoved that thought away with a vicious thrust. He would fight the devil himself to keep his precious little bit, with him, in this world. That voice laughed. Jimmy’s fate wasn’t Roman’s to control.

“Excuse me.”

Roman found a young woman standing in front of him, holding an electronic tablet. When he couldn’t form a word of polite conversation she continued.

“The man you carried in here. Would you happen to know his name?”

“Jimmy,” Roman choked out. “James Earl Marshall. He’s, my husband.”

The woman nodded while her stylist flew over the tablet’s screen. “Does James have high blood pressure? Does he take any prescriptions?”

“No to both questions. And he prefers to be called, Jimmy.” He would always be Roman’s, little bit.

“Does he take recreational drugs, legal or illegal?”

A spark of anger had Roman asking, “What are you accusing him of?”

“Nothing, sir.” The woman met Roman’s gaze and held it. “We aren’t the police. Our job is to help. We can’t do that unless we have all the information.”

Roman took a deep breath to try and calm his ragged nerves. “Jimmy doesn’t take drugs. He does have a drink of alcohol socially once in a while.”

“Is there any family history of aneurysms?”

Roman’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that what’s wrong with him? Does Jimmy have an aneurysm?”

 

* * * *

 

Tatum James entered the elevator. The situation with Reese, Lee, and his husband, Morgan, was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

He turned and spotted Jimmy’s bent over figure, down the hall. He took in Jimmy’s ghost white face, the shine of sweat covering his skin, and his hands pressed against his abdomen. Beside him, Roman burst into action and ran to Jimmy, with Rhys following.

In Tatum’s years of medical service, he’d had to make many split-second decisions. Could he have helped Jimmy in any way? Maybe. On the other hand, Roman had already rushed the smaller man into the Intensive Care Unit.

Tatum let the elevator doors shut and pressed the lobby button. Given the fact that Lee had surgery the night before and had left the hospital without a doctor’s consent, Tatum decided his services were better suited, at the moment, to help with the circumstances he suspected were about to unfold in the reception area downstairs.

The phone in Tatum’s pocket vibrated and he pulled it out. Morgan, with his arms around their happy brood of a precious blond-haired little boy and four beloved black children smiled up at him.  The elevator doors opened to the lobby as he swept his finger over the screen.

“Hey, sweets.”

“The Uber driver is about to drop me off in front of the hospital,” Morgan stated. “Any news on Reese?”

“Roman is the only one allowed to visit him in the ICU.” Tatum left the elevator and headed toward the front entrance of the hospital. “He’s been going in and sitting with Reese until they kick him out. Reese is still on life-support, although he’s starting to breathe on his own.”

“Okay.” The tone of Morgan’s voice had grown quiet. “I’m here.”

The call ended and Tatum paused at the window beside the doors. A dark blue sedan pulled up to the curb and stopped. The back door of the car opened. Tatum would recognize those well-worn work boots anywhere. A jean clad leg and the bottom corner of a plaid shirt appeared.

At the same time, a large SUV parked behind the sedan. The passenger’s side backdoor opened, and Tatum watched Parker jump out. As his teammate went to open the front passenger door, Tatum grabbed a wheelchair sitting next to the doors and hurried out of the hospital.

Chapter Two

 The summer has flown by. Schools around here start today or next week. We've been enjoying watching the hummingbirds performing their acrobatics around the feeders. We had a bald-faced wasp problem but Mr. B took out his high powered shop vacuum and sucked them up. I have to say, he enjoyed that too much. lol

Mr. B is in A-fib again. Has been since yesterday. I suppose we're going to have to call the heart doc. Last week, we were at the doc's, four days out of five. Flipping in and popping out is expected. It's when he doesn't pop out is the problem. That will lead to heart damage and failure. Thank goodness his heart doc is one of the best. 

Okay, here is a little more of Reese's Return.

Jimmy finished brushing Twyla’s tail and set the curry comb back onto the shelve. He scratched the underside of the mare’s jaw before guiding the horse back into her stall.

“There you go, sweet thing.” Jimmy unhooked the lead rope from the horse’s halter and caressed the side of her neck. “You’re exercised and beautiful. Joe will be in later to give you some grain and tomorrow we’ll take a ride on the south trail to the pond.”

He paused and rubbed the small of his back, wondering if he’d strained something. The front pocket of Jimmy’s jeans vibrated and began to ring. He pulled the phone out and read his brother Tristen’s name on the screen.

“What’s up.”

Tristen had been talking about seeing the latest Disney movie in town. It had become a tradition for the twink squad, the smaller husbands of the team, to set aside one day a month in town for food, fun, and end the adventure at the cinema with lots of popcorn and candy. Jimmy was more than ready for some de-stress time. He loved his life and all the people in it, but sometimes the hacienda could get on his nerves.

Jimmy rubbed his belly and decided he must be getting an ulcer. He had to admit his short temper and all-around crabbiness over the last few weeks might be attributed to the deep ache in his stomach that could stopped him in his tracks and leave just as fast. Jimmy wondered if he should have it checked out before the last of Roman’s patience snapped and the big man’s hand connected with his ass. As off-balance as he felt, a spanking wouldn’t lead to the usual epic, hot as sin, sexual marathon.

“You need to get up here.” The distress in Tristen’s tone caught Jimmy’s entire attention. “An emergency call came in while Carson was in Roman’s office. Reese is in trouble.”

A prick of emotional hurt joined the deep ache in his belly and soreness of his back. No matter how many people joined the household, there would always be a void of emptiness left by Reese’s absence. The man needed to come back to the family.

“I’ll be right there.”

Jimmy took a minute to scroll through his contact’s list on his phone. With a press of a few buttons, he sent out a text, ordering all the team member’s husbands to meet him in the hacienda. Within seconds, texts came back letting him know they were already there and that their husbands had let them know what had happened.

What the hell?

 He knew committed relationships had their ups and downs. His years with Roman tilted toward many goods times with little troubles between them. Of late, between rescues and the number of children that had needed a safe place to stay while their adults sorted their lives out, Jimmy no longer seemed to be Roman’s number one priority. He hated that he felt this way.

As he stalked out of the barn and climbed into one of the hacienda’s utility vehicles, Jimmy made a decision. After this latest emergency he would be giving Roman a much-deserved earful and then they were getting away from Los Héroes and going on a vacation. No phones, internet, or smoke signals would be allowed on this trip. Just two people, reconnecting. Nothing was more important than each other.

The ride through the opening in the stone wall and across the back lawn was short. He found the kitchen deserted, as well as the rest of the rooms he moved through to get to Roman’s office. The eerie quiet of the house pissed Jimmy off. When had he become the outsider?

Jimmy opened the office door, ignored the people in the room, and confronted his husband.

“What the hell?”

Roman’s gaze traced over Jimmy from his dusty boots to his face. The man might as well have used his hands to explore the secrets of his body. Goosebumps rose. Jimmy wondered how that happened every time Roman looked at him, even after all these years. Jimmy hung on to his anger by his fingertips.

“Now that we’re all here, we can get down to business.” Roman touched the wooden chair next to him that had been Jimmy place since the beginning of their relationship. “Little bit, come sit and take notes.”

Wait, what? Roman’s comments implied that he’d been waiting for him? Was he supposed to be able to read minds now? Had Roman decided to use telepathy when he needed him? Jimmy sighed. Stating facts at the moment would make him look as if he were a shrew. Which he wasn’t, no matter what his brother said.

Jimmy moved to the chair and sat. Beside him, Roman began to speak. Jimmy grabbed his wand and electronic tablet from the desk’s top drawer and listened to the man who was his whole world.

“I received a call from Lee Sanchez,” Roman stated, and every member of the team stiffened. “Reese has been attacked at the beach. I assume Lee was also attacked as he could only talk for a few minutes before a nurse grabbed the phone and he was taken to surgery.”

“What hospital are he and Reese at?” Morgan, the team’s computer and gizmo expert shifted the laptop sitting on his crossed legs to a different position and began typing.

Jimmy studied Morgan’s face. A small line between the man’s eyebrows deepened and he chewed on his bottom lip. There was no love lost between Morgan and Lee. Lee loved Reese, and at one time Morgan had loved the idea of a romantic relationship with Reese. That would have never happened. Those two men weren’t suited. Morgan, and his husband, Tatum, who was one of the team’s medics, on the other hand, were mates of the mind, soul, and heart.

“Lee is at the Mission Hospital in Mission Viejo.” Roman picked up his pen, twirled it between two fingers, before letting it drop back onto the desk. “Lee told me the authorities airlifted Reese from the beach. He doesn’t know where they took him.” Roman’s gaze narrowed on Morgan. “I need to know the nearest hospital with a trauma center and a bird landing.”

“Is it possible that Lee is confused, and they took Reese to Mission Hospital, too?”

Roman turned his attention to Parker. The team’s other medic sat between his two husbands. Jimmy thought Parker won the lottery every night when he retired to the bedroom with those muscley hunks. Yum.

Roman’s hand grazed the side of Jimmy’s leg. The small gestured pulled his mind back to his own husband whose looks and massive muscles outshone, in Jimmy’s opinion, every man in the room. Now Jimmy wanted to know how the guy knew his mind had wandered.

“Reese isn’t at Mission Hospital.” The conviction in Roman’s tone ended that idea.

“UCI Trauma Center and Inland Valley Medical Center are the closest trauma centers to San Onofre State Park,” Morgan stated as his fingers raced over his keyboard. “Thanks to a nifty little program I may have stumbled upon, we now have a genie’s ball to tell us what we need to know. Never again will we hit bullshit walls like we did the first time Reese disappeared.”

“Of course, what you’re doing is on the up and up?” Roman asked.

Jimmy didn’t care how many laws Morgan broke. They needed to find Reese.

Morgan leaned closer to his computer monitor. “According to the information here, UCI’s bird brought in a victim with multiple stab wounds from San Onofre State Beach,” Morgan announced while side-stepping Roman’s question. “He was rushed into surgery where he currently remains. Inland Valley has had no new trauma patients in the last twelve hours.”

Silence reigned as everyone seemed to be processing Morgan’s statement. Jimmy watched Roman. The tell-tale twitch at the corner of his mouth and intense gaze told Jimmy that his husband had a plan in mind with a hidden agenda.

“Flyer, make the arrangements to fly into the airport nearest UCI Trauma Center,” Roman ordered. “Little Bit, we’re going to need rides and hotel rooms.”

Jimmy waited for the kicker he sensed was coming.

“Isaiah, you and Parker will head to Mission hospital and monitor Lee’s condition,” Roman directed. “Santos, you and I will confirm Reese is at UCI.” Roman’s gaze scanned the room. “We’ll keep the rest of you updated on what we find.”

Jimmy sucked in a breath and rested his hand on his belly as a sharp pain stabbed through his insides. He had suspected that Roman was going to stir the pot regarding the family’s feelings toward the Reese situation. He hadn’t thought Roman was going to use an airplane engine powered kitchen mixer to explode the thin membrane covering the still festering wound of Reese’s leaving Rescue for Hire.

He winced as the volume of everyone’s objections grew.

“We’re not staying behind.”

“When someone is hurt, we all go to the hospital.”

“Reese is still one of us.”

“We are family, and family sticks with family.”

“I object.”

“Enough.”

Roman hadn’t had to raise his voice to gain the room’s attention. Those who had stood, settled back down into their seats and all of them waited for the big man to speak.

Jimmy held back a snicker. Man, they’d been played by the best of the best.

Roman rested his elbows on the office chair’s arms and steepled his fingertips together.

“Who of you want to go and who stays home?”

 Garrett cleared his throat. The older man ran the house with expert efficiency as well as cooked meals that would make angels drool if angels did that sort of thing. If Garrett had something to say, Jimmy let him. An irritated Garrett could result in multiple meals of dried-up cold chicken and mushy vegetables. It seemed as if the rest of the gang thought along those same lines. Everyone looked toward Garrett.

The keeper of the house reached over and entwined his fingers with the frail man sitting in a wheelchair. Complete devotion and total love shown in the smile that Tolliver directed at Garrett.

“My wee one and I will stay and prepare for Reese and Lee’s homecoming.” Garrett glanced at Jimmy’s parents. “We also have the children to consider. I’m sure James and Peggy will help.”

The heart attack that had ravaged his father’s health was called a widow maker for a good reason. Not many people survived. James Earl had lived but the toll to his body had forced him to give up his ranch to his oldest son and move to La Heroes. Jimmy thought that decision had been a good one. The family of Rescue for Hire West had welcomed his parents and everyone watched over them.

Peggy Earl nodded. “The two new foster children will need extra attention and school is still in session for our kids.”

Morgan and Tatum may have adopted Keven and the four Thompson kids but the whole gang thought of them as theirs. This hacienda of heroes and their spouses were doing their best to raise them right.

“I’ll stay and take care of all the animals,” Joe Beck spoke up. “I assume, you are leaving Norman and Sadie home?”

Rhys and Santos nodded at Joe’s question. They wouldn’t need to take their tracking dogs along to California. This missing person rescue would be solved by a computer.

 Joe would have his hands full taking care of all the animals accumulated over the years. Besides the tracking dogs and the horses that filled the barn, there were the outside cats, one spoiled inside cat, a couple of guinea pigs, a tank filled with guppies, a Golden Retriever named Sam, and of course Bentley, the Chihuahua. Yep, Joe would have his hands full.

“Cayman and I are committed to quite a few jobs,” Seth, one of Parker’s husbands said. “It will take us a couple of days to rearrange our schedules.”

Parker touched Seth’s cheek and his other hand rested on Cayman’s thigh. “Don’t change anything unless it looks as if we’ll have to stay longer than a week.”

Cayman’s eyebrows lowered. “We want to be there for you, Reese, and Lee.”

“I’ll call every day and we’ll decide together if you should join us,” Parker answered.

Jimmy could almost touch the love flowing between Parker and his plumbers. He glanced at Roman. He bet the plumbers would never neglect Parker like someone else in the room had been lately neglecting him.

“If you all are finished, we have plans to make,” Roman stated. “I want to be in the air in less than two hours.”

“I need to call the shop,” Tristen pulled his phone out of his leather vest pocket. “I’m sure Sabastian will understand that this is a family emergency.”

Jimmy had to acknowledge that his spoiled brother had done good. After starting part-time at a clothing store, he had not only worked hard and transferred to fulltime, he’d also invested and become part owner.

“We’re going to need two planes,” Flyer said before popping a chocolate kiss into his mouth. Jimmy wondered if he had stolen the candy from Rhys. Joe was always giving his husband a kiss candy. So romantic.

Jimmy hardly noticed Flyer’s leg bouncing any longer. Okay, that was a lie. It was impossible not to see that leg’s constant jerking up and down. One time he had sat on Flyer’s knee to try and stop the habit. Yeah, it hadn’t worked. Flyer would always be Flyer.

“We will split into two groups.” Roman picked up his pen and twirled it between two fingers. “My group will go with Flyer and after we land, we’ll head to the hospital to find Reese. Isaiah’s group will fly with Styx and go to Lee.”

Styx, Flyer’s husband nodded. He never said much. Being sucker ambushed by some homophobic assholes had left him with a voice just above a whisper and a harsh, gravely tone. It had improved for a while but disintegrated back to what he had now. That never stopped foster kids from swarming the big, beefy, tattooed and pierced mechanic. They saw beneath the surface of his bad boy image to the awesome person he really was.

“Now, who’s going with who?” Roman asked.

No one spoke up. Jimmy knew what they were all thinking. They resented Lee because they blamed him for Reese leaving the team and living with him on the beach. Everyone had conveniently forgotten that Reese lost all his memories of Rescue for Hire and the team. He hadn’t known any of them from a cartoon character on television. They were all strangers in a strange place to him. Lee had been his lifeline in a confusing world in which time, numbers, and letters held no meaning. And yet, the group still resented Lee. All because they hadn’t gotten the miracle cure they wanted.

“You all are assholes,” Jimmy sputtered and jumped to his feet.

Chapter 1

 Hello,

I'm sitting here and staring at a blank page, knowing I should write something. But what? Why I haven't published anything in a long time? Dealing with Mr. B's health crises? The high's and lows of the last couple of years?

I can't promise anything at the moment. Life is too uncertain. What I will do is try and give you a snippet of a story I have in progress. I'll try to give you a snippet every week and see how it goes. Who knows, it might inspire me to finish it.

Unedited !

His grip tightened on the tongs and lifted the slivers of cooked onion before loosening his hold and settling the bunch of buttery tanginess onto the meaty dog snuggled in the bun’s softness. A squeeze of ever-needed ketchup topped the meaty goodness. With quick, efficient, movements, he wrapped the hotdog in foil and handed it to the young woman.

“Thank you.” He smiled and accepted the money before handing back the correct change. “Enjoy and have a great day.”

All the while, Lee Sanchez’s gaze never left the tall blond making his way along the edge of the beach where the park’s trees met the sand. Instincts sharpened by years of undercover police work told him that the two men following Reese and the three guys in the woods, flanking his lover’s every move, were up to no good.

The hair on Lee’s arms rose when the three guys stepped out of the trees and blocked Reese’s way. A knife flashed in the late day sun sending Lee into action. Reese wouldn’t pull out his weapon unless he felt threatened. Lee grabbed his trusty baseball bat and leaped over the hotdog cart.

 

* * * *

 

Reese Palmer schooled his expression to remain indifferent and kept his breathing slow and even. Instincts he didn’t remember, kicked in, from when he was an elite member of a group of experts who rescued people from natural and manmade disasters.  His neck prickled with warnings of danger and muscles tightened in anticipation of reaction. He had become aware of his stalkers, back up the beach after he’d given a homeless kid a couple of hotdogs.

Experience had taught Reese that besides the fear of the unknown, hunger was at the top of the list when someone had nowhere to go. A plastic baggy containing a card with the address of the homeless teen shelter Reese’s friend Arden ran, and enough money for a cab lined the foil wrapper of one dog. He hoped the boy left the streets before the sex traffickers got ahold of him. Over the last few years, Reese’s goal in life had been to help runaways and homeless youth escape the dangers of the street.

If the situation weren’t so tense, Reese would have chuckled at his thoughts and the use of the word, years. After the automobile accident, besides losing his memory, he’d lost any concept of time, numbers and recognition of letters. He had no idea the length of a year. Heck, he only knew a day began when the sun rose and ended when the sun set. Whether those events happened on the same day were still a mystery.

 Movement near his side had Reese slamming to a halt and bending into a defensive crouch. In his hand he held a small knife Lee had given him for protection. By the sneers on the men’s faces standing in front of him, Reese would need the blade if he had any chance of getting out of the situation without serious injuries.

“You’re costing us money, beachman.” The tallest guy flipped open a switchblade. “It’s time for you to find another place to plant your ass. This is our turf.”

“I have nothing to do with your money.” Reese swung around and tried to keep the men from closing in on him. “Leave me alone.”

Reese’s side erupted in fire. As he turned to face the threat, the tall guy lashed out and his knife slashed across Reese’s belly. A jab to his ribs knocked Reese sideways. A body smashed into him, sending him to the ground.

“No!”

Lee’s shout sent hope through Reese. He needed help.

The impact of his body hitting the sand knocked Reese’s breath away. The guy on top of him raise his arm and Reese stared up at the sharp silver blade of a large hunting knife.

Reese grabbed the man’s wrist and shoved with all his might to stop the knife from slamming into his chest. The guy’s determination to kill showed in the hate glittering in his eyes and his thinning lips pulled back to show teeth.

His strength waned and his arms started shaking. Pulling air into his lungs became a hardship. Reese knew he’d been stabbed and sliced up. That he felt no pain indicated that he was in trouble.

“You son of a bitch!”

The bat hit the man’s head with a bone crushing force. The telling sound of hard plastic cracking indicated the fracturing of the guy’s skull. The impact threw the man off Reese. Lee turned away. In one motion, he jabbed the bat into the tall guy’s balls and without missing a beat, swung his weapon in a perfect uppercut to the next guy’s jaw. A different man punched Lee on the side of the head. Another man, with a small knife, jabbed Lee in the arm.

Reese tried to rise and help his lover but ended up collapsing onto his side. He looked down to find the lower half of his shirt torn and drenched in blood. More blood soaked a jagged tear in his shirt by his rib cage. The pools of red forming in the sand concerned him. He had nothing to slow the hemorrhaging.

Lee sank to his knees beside Reese. “Please sunshine. Don’t leave me. Help is on the way.”

“Why would I leave you?” Reese wanted to touch Lee’s face, but his arm wouldn’t work. He blinked back the gray trying to cloud his vision. “We need to dance and say goodbye to the sun.”

“Yes, we do, love.” Tears ran down Lee’s cheeks.

Reese watched Lee’s lips forming words. He found it curious that he heard no sounds, and then didn’t care as Lee’s beloved face blurred and faded away.

 

* * * *

Roman Marshall tapped the end of the pen against the pad covering part of his desk, winced, and threw the pen down. He refused to give away his thoughts or feelings through his pen as his superior, Cade Miller, tended to do. All employees of Rescue for Hire knew how serious a situation was by the extent Cade mangled his pen.

As the leader of a team of experts, located in Nevada, who rescued people from natural and man-made disasters, Roman took pride in maintaining control at all times. His men knew they could trust him to remain calm no matter how intense the situation. Today, any semblance of tranquility had sailed out the window in an explosion of deep dread. One of his men was in trouble.

Roman didn’t know who or what had happened, but his sixth sense was screaming and blaring warning bells. He’d already put out a text demanding that his team check in and all had responded. Still, his radar continued to ping out of control.

Cade had confessed to knowing things about his team before they happened. It seemed, that Roman had gained that gift, or maybe curse.

Roman reached for his phone. It was time to call a meeting and see who needed him. Before he touched the device, it began vibrating and ringing. Reese’s name appeared on the small screen. Tension spiked. Even though Reese had left the team over four years ago after a devastating brain injury, he was never far from Roman’s thoughts.

“This is Roman.”

“Reese is dead!”

Roman’s heart dropped and ice incased his soul. “What?”

“Shit. This is Lee Sanchez. Reese was attacked and they took him away.”

“Slow down.” Roman’s grip on the phone tightened. “Tell me what happened and who took Reese.”

“Some guys ganged up on Reese at the beach.” There was a long pause before Lee’s shaking voice returned. “They had to air lift him out of there. No one will tell me where he is or what’s happened to him.”

“Didn’t the police inform you which hospital Reese was being airlifted to while they were taking your statement of the incident?” Things weren’t adding up in Roman’s mind. “The hospital should be getting ahold of Reese’s emergency contact. I’d think that was you.”

“Lately, Reese has been forgetting his wallet.” Lee’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing, “We had a late start this morning and I’m not sure if he remembered to bring it along.”

Reese’s car accident had taken his memories and damaged his brain. Many changes would continue to happen as his brain created new paths to relearn the intricacies of life. Some things would never be relearned.

“What about the police?” Roman kept his tone calm while he pressed for answers. He noted a slur in Lee’s speech.

“I haven’t seen them yet.”

An unsettling idea popped into Roman’s mind. “Lee, where are you.”

“I’m at the…”

“Mr. Sanchaz,” an exasperated voice interrupted Lee. “What do you think you’re doing? You need to relax. You’re about to have surgery.” There was a small pause. “Okay ladies, he’s ready for his ride.”

“Don’t,” Lee yelled. “I need to…”

“Hello,” the voice spoke into the phone. “This is Kelly McDonald. I’m a nurse at Mission Hospital in Mission Viejo, California. Mr. Sanchaz isn’t able to talk right now.”

“Ms. McDonald, can you tell me the nature of Lee’s injuries?” Over the edge of a basinet sitting in the corner of the office, Roman watched the fingers of a tiny hand flex. “Lee contacted me about the incident, and I hope to get there as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse recited the standard reply, “I can’t give out that information.”

Roman had expected the nurse’s answer but had tried anyway. He knew the privacy laws of the country. Revealing a patient’s medical details could result in being fired and licenses revoked. As he decided how he could push the nurse a little to gain any hints of information, he watched the baby kick his little blue sock covered foot sending the basinet into a gentle rock followed by a cute baby grumble. The little one would need attention soon.

On cue, the office door opened and Carson, the husband of Roman’s weapon’s expert, walked into the room and went to the house’s latest foster child.

 “By any chance can you give me the status of the other victim in the incident?” Roman asked. “His name is Reese Palmer.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” again the nurse responded. “That information isn’t available at this hospital.”

Bingo! By the woman’s answer, she had told Roman that Reese wasn’t a patient at Mission Hospital. He now had something to work with. Luckily, he had a team of professionals whose expertise centered on finding people.

Roman thanked the woman, ended the call, and began texting.

“Has something happened to Reese?”

Roman hit the send button on his phone, pressed more buttons, and sent out a muti-person text, before turning his attention to Carson’s quiet question. Concern glistened in the man’s big blue eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip. Roman’s critical opinion of Carson had changed over the years. He would always despise the past intimacy between the small man and his own husband, Jimmy. He knew people had pasts. Hell, he had his own. What mattered was how they chose to live out their lives. Carson’s carpenter skills at keeping Los Héroes in tiptop condition and his affinity to the foster care infants, brought to the hacienda, here invaluable.

“Reese and Lee have been attacked at the beach.” Roman watched Carson’s eyes widen. He knew Reese had helped Carson through the trauma of his torture at the hands of a madman. Reese may have forgotten their closeness, but Carson never would. Roman reassured Carson, “The team and I are going to head over there.”

Carson’s lower lip trembled. “Please, bring him home.”

Many people had begged Roman to find and return their loved ones to them. He always tried to walk the tightrope of never promising something he couldn’t keep without dimming hope of a positive outcome. This time, the answer was clear as glass and easy.

“I will.” Roman made his answer firm and final.

One way or another, Roman would take care of Reese. Whether that meant leaving him to continue to live out his life on the beach, bringing him back to Nevada to heal, or the horrific responsibility of laying him to rest for eternity next to his father.

Another thought niggled at the edge of his brain. As the leader of this team and family, was it time to enact a decision for the good of them all?

Carson held Roman’s gaze for a moment before turning and picking up the baby. Roman admired how Carson managed to handle the child despite the handicap of a weak left arm. Hell, Roman admired the man’s scrappiness. He’d had to overcome sadistic torture, debilitating injures from a plane crash, and Roman’s hostility. The man had endured and in turn, gained Roman’s respect. And maybe, Roman’s husband, Jimmy, had helped guide him to the conclusion that Carson belonged in the Rescue for Hire family.

Roman held back a smirk at the thought of how Jimmy’s temper and sarcasm over the years had led to his hand meeting Jimmy’s delicious ass and the epic sex that followed.

A heavy hand rapped on the office door before the door opened and Isaiah, Roman’s weapons expert walked in. A hint of a smile formed on the tall black man’s face when he spotted his husband.

“Hey, baby.” Isaiah pulled Carson closer and kissed his forehead. “Did you manage to fix that hole in the wall or has the little one taken all your time?”

Carson beamed up at Isaiah. “The hallway is back to normal. Roman watched the baby while I set things right.”

A Social Services agent had called earlier in the week, and Morgan, Roman’s computer expert, had brought home a mistreated little boy. Sometimes a child couldn’t comprehend that being taken to a new place where everyone was a stranger was better than living with an abusive parent. Outbursts of fear and anger were understandable. One of these incidents led to the child hacking at the wall with a hockey stick.

“I’m sure it’s perfect.” Isaiah’s gaze stayed locked on Carson and gave the man his entire attention. The big man’s adoration evident.

Carson glance at Roman before looking back at Isaiah. “You need to help Reese. I’ll leave you alone to make your plans.”

The smaller man lifted onto his toes, kissed Isaiah’s mouth, and left the room. Isaiah turned to Roman. His thick eyebrows lowered, and deep lines bracketed his mouth.  

“I take it Reese is why you sent the text.” Isaiah move to his customary chair at the side of Roman’s desk. “What’s going on with the medic?”

Roman leaned back in his desk chair and picked up his pen. He’d texted Isaiah first. The rest of the team would be arriving soon, but he wanted to give his best friend and second in command a heads up on the situation.

“Lee called and managed, before he was rolled into surgery, to tell me that Reese was attacked on the beach,” Roman began relaying what information he had. “Lee didn’t know what hospital Reese was taken to or his condition.”

A long low whistle escaped from between Isaiah’s lips. The man sat back and stared off into the distance. After a moment, he nodded and looked at Roman.

One eyebrow lifted and a ghost of a smile appeared. “Operation find and bring those two home once and for all?”

“My thoughts exactly. Now to get the others on board.”

“The love is there, it’s the hurt feelings that need dealing with.” Isaiah chewed on the inside of his lip for a second before continuing, “Don’t get me wrong. There won’t be any hesitation of the team in the finding and rescuing. The aftermath is where I see the problem. Everyone will want to help him with his recovery. The problem comes in where we’re all protective of our partners and none of us want to expose them to the pain of losing Reese again.”

“You didn’t include Lee in that statement,” Roman pointed out.

Isaiah shrugged one shoulder. “That’s another obstacle. Most resent and blame him for Reese choosing to leave us and live by the beach.”

Roman agreed with Isaiah’s assessment, but there was one other scenario the man hadn’t mentioned.

“Everything is moot if Reese is dead or dies.”

“True.” Isaiah sat up straight. “But we’re not going to let that happen.”

The door swung open and the rest of the team walked in. Following them were their husbands. Garret, the hacienda’s manager, and his husband, Tolliver, and Jimmy’s parents were next to arrive. Carson brought up the rear. His pale face and too bright eyes magnified his worry and fear.

Roman sighed. Time weighed heavy on his shoulders and they needed to get to Reese as soon as possible. Now, he had a room full of concerned people he had chosen to be his family and yet, the most important person was missing.

The thunder of the soles of cowboy boots against tile floors echoed down the hall and Jimmy appeared in the doorway. The smaller man jammed his hands on his hips and glared at Roman.

“What the hell?”

 

It snowed last night. Everything is frosted with 4 inche...

 It snowed last night. Everything is frosted with 4 inches of the beautiful white stuff. I love snow. We are told to expect more snow tomorrow and more at the end of the week. I need to get into town and buy feed to fill the empty bird feeders. A squirrel must have gotten into them as they were full only few days ago.

Christmas day was a bit chaotic with four dogs flying around while squeaking their new squeaky toys. We had much laughter and too much food. And then the children went home and the house felt a bit empty. Mr. B and I snuggled on the sofa with our 2 dogs sleeping at our feet. Even with all the challenges of our world right now, there are some precious moments.

Maybe our lives aren't the storybook we've envisioned. I thought I would have many grandchildren and that looks not to be. Yes, it weighs heavy on my mind. But I think the trick is to grab on to the good moments and hold them close so you can pull them out when the bad moments happen. 

My wish is for you to take this holiday season to recognize and enjoy the good moments. 

Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I've poste...

  Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted here. It's already December. What a crazy and many times overwhelming year.

For those who are part of Facebook and have joined my fan club, you have seen some of the stories I'm working on. While its wonderful that my imagination is humming right along, I really need to be able to complete an entire story, start to finish. I'm working on that.

Yesterday, was one of those overwhelming days. Thank goodness I can reach out to fellow author, Stormy Glenn, when this happens. At one point I asked her what I should work on that day. She, of course, said I should write a short story for her ManLove winter addition coming out in January. She's no fool and wants to fill up the month with great stories. I seriously thought about it but ended up working Rescue for Hire West. My Rescue for Hire boys are like a warm blanket to me and their world is another home.

Technically I need another ten thousand words to complete the story. I laugh at the thought. The story will go another twenty, possibly thirty. Time will tell.

I wish you all a safe December. Please do what it takes to keep you and your loved ones safe.

Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I've ...

  Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted here. It's already December. What a crazy and many times overwhelming year.

For those who are part of Facebook and have joined my fan club, you have seen some of the stories I'm working on. While its wonderful that my imagination is humming right along, I really need to be able to complete an entire story, start to finish. I'm working on that.

Yesterday, was one of those overwhelming days. Thank goodness I can reach out to fellow author, Stormy Glenn, when this happens. At one point I asked her what I should work on that day. She, of course, said I should write a short story for her ManLove winter addition coming out in January. She's no fool and wants to fill up the month with great stories. I seriously thought about it but ended up working Rescue for Hire West. My Rescue for Hire boys are like a warm blanket to me and their world is another home.

Technically I need another ten thousand words to complete the story. I laugh at the thought. The story will go another twenty, possibly thirty. Time will tell.

I wish you all a safe December. Please do what it takes to keep you and your loved ones safe.

I'm so glad my daughter is feeling better. She did test ...

 I'm so glad my daughter is feeling better. She did test positive for the virus but is one of the lucky ones to recover without intense hospital care. My oldest son wasn't feeling well but that turned out to be a 24 hour thing. He's dropping off his dog today and we'll be taking care of her for a few days while he helps with a wedding that he is the best man.

I'm still working of a Rescue for Hire West story. It's slow but steady. My concentration isn't what it should be. Everyday when I put on the morning news, its enough to unsettle the calmest person and I could never claim to be one of those people.

Have a great day.

I'm so glad my daughter is feeling better. She did ...

 I'm so glad my daughter is feeling better. She did test positive for the virus but is one of the lucky ones to recover without intense hospital care. My oldest son wasn't feeling well but that turned out to be a 24 hour thing. He's dropping off his dog today and we'll be taking care of her for a few days while he helps with a wedding that he is the best man.

I'm still working of a Rescue for Hire West story. It's slow but steady. My concentration isn't what it should be. Everyday when I put on the morning news, its enough to unsettle the calmest person and I could never claim to be one of those people.

Have a great day.

If we're lucky, we will find out tomorrow if my daughter...

 If we're lucky, we will find out tomorrow if my daughter has covid. She is showing all the signs. A scene from my WIP is running through my head all day. I'm about to sit and write it down. Hopefully I can incorporate it later into the story.

I just realized that last year at this time I and my daughter were preparing for an adventure of flying to Albuquerque New Mexico to visit my cousin and attend GRL. After the year we're having, that time seems so long ago.

I will take my own advice to enjoy the little things. As I write, I will enjoy this warm, sunny day, bright with fall colors.