Love Slave for Two

Chapter 27

Tyler felt heartsick. When they reached Bruce B. Downs Boulevard, Thomas hesitated, finally turning right, muttering under his breath and casting nasty looks at Tyler. He drove for ten minutes. Seeing no sign of her, he turned around and passed the entrance to the development, traveling the other way. After twenty minutes he realized it was useless and turned toward home.

He glared at Tyler. “Why? Why the hell couldn’t you leave well enough alone?” When he was especially upset, Thomas’ southern drawl sounded more pronounced. “You and your goddamned master plannin’. I cannot believe I let you talk me into this. I knew better, and I still went along with you. Fuck. If I can’t talk her into calmin’ down and hearin’ me out, she’s gone, thanks to you. We coulda talked to her in the beginning, been open and honest about how we felt and hoped she didn’t freak out. Oh no. That’s not easy enough for you. God knows you have to play around with her fuckin’ heart.”

“I love her too, you know.”

“Well, goddamn, ain’t that great! You fuckin’ love her, and you can’t do something as simple as be honest an’ tell her how you feel? Why can’t anything be simple with you, Ty? Life isn’t fuckin’ complicated enough, gotta go workin’ people round like they’re characters in your books? You always do this. Shit!” He pounded his fist against the steering wheel and fell silent.

A few minutes later, Tyler started to speak and Thomas steamrolled him. “You know, I shoulda kept my fuckin’ mouth shut about her. I shoulda been happy with what we had. I was happy with what we had. I loved you, you loved me, we had a great thing goin’. No, I gotta be a greedy fuckin’ dumbass and fall in love with her, and let you talk me into thinkin’ that’s a great goddamn idea. Forget that everyone says three’s a crowd, and now I fuckin’ know why.”

He turned to Tyler at the next red light. “I mean it, Tyler. We lose her, you and I might as well say goodbye because I won’t forgive you, and every time I look at you I’ll hate you for it.”

Tyler swallowed hard and nodded. Thomas was right—this was his fault. He was on the verge of losing the two people he loved more than his own life, and for once he didn’t have the slightest idea how to make things right.

Nevvie backed into the driveway. The Ridgeline wasn’t there. Good, that meant at least one of them had left. She opened the garage and angrily threw the boxes in, slinging them toward the back wall. When she had them unloaded she slammed the trunk and doors and stormed into the garage, leaving the big door open. She’d be coming back in a few minutes to start loading.

She grabbed as many boxes as she could carry and walked inside. The house felt empty.

“Hello?”

No answer. She stomped to the bedroom, yanking open dressers and ripping hangers out of the closet. At least she had a decent wardrobe. She could probably get a position with a temp agency, working in an office. The ring on her left hand flashed in the light and she stared at it, sitting on their bed and crying.

Why did they do this to her? Why fuck with her heart? They didn’t have to play games to win her love. Didn’t they know that? Didn’t they know how much she loved them, even before all this started? All they had to do was tell her how they felt. She would have jumped at a chance to be with them. Okay, so a little weird, yes, but to have two men who made her feel the way they made her feel…

Nothing hurt as bad as this. Couldn’t she turn back time—Jesus, only an hour, not even that—and have her life back?

She hesitated. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she should talk to them, wait for an explanation.

But how could she trust herself? How could she trust them, be sure they weren’t playing yet another mind game?

The garage door opener kicked on, startling her. She never heard them drive up. Crap. She tensed when the door from the garage into the house opened. Which one would try first? Probably Thomas. He looked as pissed at Tyler as she felt.

No. She needed to leave, at least for now. There was plenty of time to hate herself later, but there was no way she could ever think straight around the two of them. They’d melt her reserve, and once again she’d do whatever they wanted. Her problem was she’d never lived by herself as an adult. She needed to get away from them, get her head on straight. Then, and only then, would she talk to them and hear what they had to say. Maybe then she could sort fact from fantasy.

One of these fucking days, she had to learn how to stand on her own two feet, quit waiting for some white knight to swoop in and rescue her.

Today was that day.

She took a deep breath and started packing again. She sensed one of them standing in the bedroom doorway. After a few long minutes, she turned.

Alex leered. “Well, bitch, I see you found yourself a happy little whorehouse to live in. Shoulda known you would.”

She dove for the phone and he was on her in a flash, ripping it from her hands and pulling the cord from the wall. He hit her with it. She managed to push him off and stumbled for the door, screaming for help.

“Quit screaming. Your little fag buddies aren’t here to save you. What the hell you doing with them anyway? They fuckin’ you up the ass? That what I shoulda done to keep you in line, treated you like a fuckin’ whore?” He grabbed her arm and slammed her into the wall, stunning her. When he threw her to the bed she bounced and rolled off the other side, on her feet and bolting for the bedroom door.

Alex tripped over one of the boxes but didn’t fall. He caught her in the hallway, pinning her face down on the floor. “Just hold still and take it up the ass, why don’t you? I bet you do for them and love it.”

He punched her in the head, and for a moment she feared she’d black out. When he changed position she scrambled up and he fell backwards. She kicked him in the thigh when aiming for his crotch, and managed to break his grip. She stumbled into the kitchen, still screaming.

Tyler couldn’t look at Thomas, unable to bear the weight of his angry glare. Thomas was right that they never should have played with Nevvie the way they did. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but don’t all horrifically awful ideas start out that way?

“What the fuck?” Thomas swore.

They’d rounded the final corner to the house and Tyler looked up to see Alex’s battered Escort parked across the end of their driveway.

Tyler’s instincts screamed. “Oh, no. Call 911!” Before Thomas had the truck completely stopped, Tyler flung the passenger door open and raced for the house.

Nevvie tried to grab the cordless phone from the counter but Alex tackled her again. He smelled like sweat and beer and rank body odor. He was drunk, and that made him even more dangerous. She pulled free but he caught her leg. As she turned to kick he grabbed something from the counter. She barely registered the silver flash in his hand before the knife sank into her stomach.

Hot, searing pain flooded her body. She screamed in agony.

“Like that, bitch?” He punched her with his other hand, splitting her lip. He pulled the knife out and sliced her shirt up the front, cutting her flesh several more times. “Gonna git a little action out of you whether you like it or not, fuckin’ cunt.”

She couldn’t speak, tried to put her hands to the wound. Nevvie saw the front door open behind Alex and she reached out.

Tyler flung the door open. “Nevvie!” He immediately saw Alex on top of her. Tyler charged, grabbing Alex by the shirt and pulling him off of her. The knife fell from Alex’s hand, clattering to the floor and sliding under the fridge.

That’s when Tyler saw the blood.

“Oh, Nevvie, sweet Jesus!”

Alex roared and slammed Tyler against the counter, knocking the wind out of him.

Tyler turned to take a swing at him when a chair flew at his head, dropping him to the floor. As Tyler lost consciousness, he looked at Nevvie and heard Thomas’ enraged scream.

Thomas parked on the lawn and was seconds behind Tyler, already on his cell to 911 and asking for a deputy. He raced through the open front door in time to see Alex swing the chair at Tyler, knocking him out. Alex had his back to the front door and Thomas dropped his cell, the operator still asking him questions. He tackled Alex, pummeling him with his fists, finally knocking him out.

His legs shaky, Thomas grabbed his cell, and that’s when he saw Nevvie lying on the floor behind the counter.

She was barely conscious. He screamed her name when he saw the blood. She looked at him, her eyes unfocused, trying to talk.

He cried, dropped to his knees next to her. “Oh God, he stabbed her! Please, send an ambulance! Oh, God, she’s bleeding everywhere!”

The operator tried to calm him. “Who was stabbed, sir?”

“He stabbed my wife!”

“Sir, please calm down—”

“God fucking dammit, send a fucking ambulance! She’s dying!” He looked at Tyler. “He hit Tyler, he’s out cold, but she’s dying, you’ve got to save her!”

“Who is Tyler? Is he okay?”

“He’s my partner—I don’t know, he’s on the floor unconscious, he got hit with a chair when he tried to help Nevvie. Please, you’ve got to send an ambulance!” Thomas heard sirens down their street and dropped the phone, cradling Nevvie in his arms, sobbing, caressing her face.

Her eyes focused on him, and he touched his forehead to hers. “Nevvie, please baby, hold on, they’re coming, you’re going to be okay.”

She tried to touch him and he grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

“Tom,” she whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Nevvie, honey. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Where’s Ty?”

“He’ll be fine, he’s knocked out.”

“Tell Tyler I love him too, okay?”

“You’ll be able to tell him yourself, sugar.”

“Sheriff’s office!” The deputy in the doorway had his gun drawn.

“Over here!” Thomas screamed. “He stabbed her! Please, help her!”

The deputy holstered his gun and called into his radio, racing to their side. “What happened?”

Thomas pointed at Alex. “He attacked them.”

Nevvie’s eyes closed, and Thomas leaned close to hear her faint whisper. “I love both of you. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Tyler didn’t understand what happened at first. Then as he gathered his wits and sat up, he realized a paramedic was talking to him.

“What?” His head throbbed, ached.

“Can you tell me your name, sir? What day it is?”

Through the open front door, Tyler saw a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance, Thomas climbing in with it.

“Nevvie!”

He tried to stand and wobbled, his head in agony, what happened coming back with painful clarity. Alex had blindsided him.

“Don’t try to stand, sir.” The paramedic made him sit in a chair, probing his forehead, flashing a light in his eyes.

“Nevvie, how is she?”

“Sir, they’re taking care of her, let us—”

Tyler staggered to his feet. “How is she, goddammit!”

More awareness flooded in. Deputies and emergency personnel swarmed all over the house. Alex was unconscious and handcuffed on the living room floor, another EMT examining him.

“Sir, I don’t know. Let us examine you so we can transport you to the hospital, please.”

The EMTs guided Tyler outside to the back of another ambulance, seating him on the bumper as they examined him. A detective walked over. “Mr. Paulson?”

Tyler nodded. “How is she?”

“Mr. Kinsey went with her.” He handed Tyler a set of keys—Tom’s—and flipped open a notebook. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Tyler recalled what he could of the attack. The EMTs bandaged his head, and Tyler signed a release indicating he was refusing to be transported.

That’s when two deputies dragged Alex, kicking and screaming, out of the house.

Alex’s eyes found Tyler, and he grinned. “I killed your little fag whore, didn’t I?” he screamed. “Ya goddamned queer! I killed the fuckin’ cunt!”

Tyler launched himself at Alex with an enraged scream. “You bloody, filthy bastard!”

It took the detective and two other deputies to restrain Tyler, while two more roughly shoved Alex into the back of a patrol car. Finally, Tyler dropped to his knees, sobbing. He’d failed her twice. Breaking her heart and not keeping his promise to protect her.

Please, don’t let her be dead. Don’t let my angel die.

They let Thomas ride in the ambulance with Nevvie. As he left, Tyler was coming to and being examined by another paramedic team. Alex was handcuffed and unconscious. Thomas handed a deputy his keys. “Just give them to Tyler.”

The deputy nodded. “We’ll need your statement, Mr. Kinsey. They’re going to take her to Tampa Community. We’ll catch up with you there.” Thomas had given him the short version in the five minutes between the EMTs arriving and loading Nevvie for transport.

Thomas stayed out of the way, praying, unable to focus on their words as they worked to staunch her bleeding, started an IV, and applied monitor leads to her chest.

At the hospital he tried to follow them into the ER but a nurse grabbed his arm, gently but firmly redirecting him to the desk. “Sir, they might take her straight to surgery. You can’t go in there.”

He broke down sobbing, his knees unhinging. An orderly came over to help, caught his other arm, and between them they maneuvered him to a chair.

“Please, they’ve got to save her. Please don’t let her die,” he begged.

The nurse spotted the blood on him and rethought her decision, had the orderly bring a wheelchair. They took Thomas to a triage room on the other side of the ER to check him over.

Nevvie was taken to surgery minutes later. Thomas sat in the waiting room, her blood dried on his shirt and numb beyond tears. He’d managed to fill out some of the paperwork and answer questions without any real certainty how. Nearly an hour later, Tyler, a bandage on his head, appeared in the waiting room door and raced to Thomas’s side.

“How is she?”

Thomas finally looked at him. “She’s in surgery.”

Tyler sat next to him and waited, neither speaking.

Another long, silent hour later, a doctor walked in. “Ms. Barton’s family?”

Tyler and Thomas stood, and the doctor walked over. “She’s out of surgery, but she’s going to be in the SICU for now.”

“How is she?” Thomas asked.

“She lost a lot of blood, and there is a high risk of infection. We think we repaired all the damage. The knife didn’t hit any arteries or go through her spine. She’s young and her vital signs are strong, so we’ll wait and see. The next twenty-four hours are critical. The longer she makes it, the better her chances.”

“Can we see her?” Tyler asked.

“You can see her for a minute. She’s going to be unconscious for at least twelve hours. She’s on a ventilator, and we’re keeping her sedated and out of pain for now. You’re related?”

Both men nodded.

“Okay, come on.” They followed the doctor to the SICU, washing their hands as instructed. The doctor spoke to the nurse taking care of her and motioned them to her bedside. Nevvie was in a small room separated from the main SICU ward by sliding glass doors.

Dwarfed by the bed, Nevvie looked small and frail. She had IVs in both arms, a tube in her nose, and a respirator tube in her mouth. Tears rolled down Thomas’ face as he carefully caressed the back of her right hand.

“Nevvie, I’m here,” he whispered. “Tyler’s here too, baby girl.”

Tyler stood on her left side and touched her hand. “We love you, sweetheart. You can do this, you’re strong. You have to come back to us.” He choked back a sob and closed his eyes.

Thomas battled with his anger at Tyler. This wasn’t the time. “Sugar,” Thomas whispered, “you’re going to be fine. You’ll be out of here in no time. You have to be okay for me, I need you, I can’t lose you. I love you.” He carefully leaned in and kissed her forehead where an ugly bruise had already formed. “You have to be okay, Nevvie. You have to come home to me.”

The nurse indicated their time was up and Thomas stepped back from the bed. Tyler leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Nevvie.” Then he whispered in her ear and followed Thomas from the room.

The nurse stopped them. “Mr. Kinsey? Take this with you. They took them off of her in the OR and I’m afraid they’ll get lost.” It was a small plastic bag containing Nevvie’s turquoise necklace, the engagement ring, and the ruby ring Tyler had bought her. Thomas choked back a sob and nodded. Tyler watched, but remained silent.

Another nurse stopped them at the SICU desk. “You’re Ms. Barton’s family?”

The men nodded.

“The admissions caseworker needs to talk to you, get the paperwork sorted out. I’m sorry, I know this is a rough time.”

“It’s all right,” Tyler said. “What do we need to do?”

The nurse showed them into a small office right outside SICU. An officious, harried-looking woman walked in fifteen minutes later.

“Mr. Barton? I’m Nancy Park from Administration.”

“We’re Ms. Barton’s family,” Tyler said. Thomas still held the plastic bag, running his fingers over the engagement ring through the plastic.

She smiled, but it didn’t travel any further than her lips. “We need to get her insurance information, all of that handled.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “That’s all at home. I’ll have to go get it. We have a medical power of attorney.”

“Oh, good. Okay.” She handed him her card. “Can you bring that back today? The sooner the better. If I’m not here, someone will be on duty to help. Are you her husband?”

“We’re engaged.” He glared at Tyler, silently daring his lover to contradict him.

The woman glanced at the ring on his hand then saw the one on Tyler’s. Her eyes narrowed. Before she could say anything there was a knock at the door, and a nurse opened it. Behind her stood a deputy. “I’m sorry, but he needs to take Mr. Kinsey’s statement.”

Tyler stood. “I’ll get the paperwork and bring you some fresh clothes. You stay here.”

Tyler returned home, found the paperwork, and packed a small bag of clean clothes for Thomas. He grabbed the paperback Thomas was reading off the bedside table and tucked that into the bag. Scanning the bedroom, he knew he’d have to find time to straighten it up, but not now.

Back in the kitchen, he nearly threw up at the sight of Nevvie’s dried blood on the floor and cabinets. He sobbed as he ran warm water in the sink and used a dishrag to clean up the worst of it.

It was nearly an hour before he returned to the hospital. He found Thomas in the waiting room and handed him the bag and his cell phone.

“I’ll go talk to the caseworker,” Tyler said.

Thomas nodded, but said nothing.

Tyler found his way to the administration office, and the receptionist directed him to Ms. Park’s desk. The woman took the folder and made copies of everything, frowning before handing it back.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.

“If Mr. Kinsey is her fiancé, why are you on all of this paperwork, too? Are you related?”

Tyler was in no mood for bullshit. “Isn’t that an improper question, Ms. Park? I assure you, our attorney drew everything up. It’s all proper, and her health insurance is current. Mr. Kinsey and I jointly hold her power of attorney. Is there anything else?”

She showed her true colors. “Mr. Paulson, all I know is there’s something weird going on here.”

Tyler’s voice grew hard and cold. “Are we done, Ms. Park?”

She pressed her lips together, but nodded. He noted she looked at his wedding band.

Before he left administration he made sure they set Nevvie’s admission status to private, requiring a security code to get information about her condition over the phone. That would, hopefully, slow a few people down. He had a feeling that beyond the shitstorm of emotion he was going through, a firestorm would erupt when the news got out.

Thomas had changed clothes by the time Tyler returned to the waiting room. When Tyler glimpsed the silver chain under his collar and slight bulge under his shirt, he realized Thomas had threaded the rings onto the necklace. He must have, because Thomas’ hands were much larger than Nevvie’s.

“We can’t see her again until eight tonight,” Thomas said. “They have three times we can visit during the day until they move her. Only fifteen minutes at a time.

Tyler looked at his watch. “That’s in three hours. Do you wish to get something to eat?”

Thomas shook his head and looked at the floor. “She told me to tell you she loves you,” he whispered. “At the house, before she passed out.”

Tyler closed his eyes and struggled against his tears. “Thank you.”

“What did you say to her in there?”

Tyler didn’t open his eyes. “I begged her to forgive me for what happened, and for not being there to protect her. I promised I would protect her, never let anyone hurt her, and I broke that promise.”

The hours crawled and Thomas made no effort to speak to Tyler. At eight they silently returned to the SICU. After scrubbing up they walked to Nevvie’s bedside and gently stroked her hands.

The nurse worked on Nevvie’s chart just outside the alcove and Tyler motioned to her. “Yes, sir?”

“How is she?”

“She’s critical, but stable.”

“How long will they keep her on the ventilator?”

“Probably until tomorrow morning, depending on her condition. We’ll keep her sedated until then to keep her comfortable.”

Tyler wished he could be the one in the bed, not her.

Thomas finally spoke. “Is she going to make it?”

“Would you like me to get the doctor to answer your questions?”

He shook his head and looked at Nevvie. “She hates to be alone. She’s terrified of hospitals. She made me promise not to leave her alone before the ambulance took her.”

The nurse patted him on the arm. “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay with her. Once she’s out of here you can talk with the nurses wherever she ends up.”

Tyler’s voice was choked and ragged. “She’ll be scared to death. We promised we’d always take care of her. She has horrible nightmares if she’s alone.”

The nurse handed Tyler a card. “Here’s the number for the SICU desk, with her bed number. I’m Carol, I’ll be on duty until seven a.m. You can call during the night and check on her. The orders we have say she’ll stay sedated until morning, when they’ll re-evaluate her condition. She won’t wake up before then. The two of you obviously love her, but you need to go home and get some sleep. I’ve got your phone numbers in the chart and I’ll call if anything changes. Be back here by six tomorrow morning and let the SICU desk know you’re here so you can talk to the doctors during rounds.”

Both men nodded, and Thomas placed a tender kiss on Nevvie’s forehead, brushing the hair away from her face. “Good night, sugar. I’ll be back first thing in the morning. I love you.”

Tyler leaned over and kissed her. “I love you, sweetheart. Please come back to us.”

Tyler drove them home. Thomas hesitated at the kitchen, staring at the remainder of the mess. There was still blood in the grout and tracked around the kitchen.

Tyler threw his keys on the counter. “I didn’t have time to properly clean. I wiped up the worst of it.” He ran warm water to finish the job and Thomas continued to their bedroom.

With leaden feet he walked to the bed and started folding her clothes, putting them away, returning hangers to the closet, dragging the empty boxes back to the garage. When Tyler finished in the kitchen he joined Thomas in the bedroom and together they tidied the room.

When Thomas undressed to take a shower, Tyler saw the necklace. As suspected, he’d threaded Nevvie’s rings onto it. Thomas removed it and carefully put it on the dresser with his watch. He glared at Tyler, his message unmistakable: Don’t touch it. I’ll take care of it.

Tyler didn’t dare join him in the bathroom. He took his shower after Thomas finished. Thomas lay on the far side of the bed, his back to Tyler. Another clear message: Leave me the fuck alone. Tyler knew to leave the angry silence unbroken.

Retrieving his cell phone charger from the office, Tyler plugged it in on his side of the bed and set the alarm to wake him at two so he could check on Nevvie. He eventually slept before it sounded.

When Tyler called, Thomas didn’t move on his distant side of the bed. Thomas didn’t say anything, but Tyler sensed him listening. After he hung up, he spoke without turning to face Thomas.

“Her vital signs are stable. She’s still under sedation.” He reset the alarm for five.

Neither slept.

Before they left the next morning, Tyler looked at the answering machine and found twenty messages. He didn’t have the energy or time to listen. They could wait. He imagined it would hit the news today, and it could make life crazy for a while. He wasn’t Stephen King but it wouldn’t surprise him if it hit the wires in the UK, too.

The doctor talked with them. “We’ll slowly back off the sedation. Her blood pressure was stable last night, and she’s not running a fever, no sign of infection yet.”

“Can we stay with her?” Tyler asked.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Paulson. If she continues to improve, we’ll upgrade her condition and then look at moving her to a regular room in a day or so.

“She’s terrified of being alone,” Thomas said. “Please, can’t you make an exception?”

“Mr. Kinsey, I understand you’re concerned, but she won’t be alone. She’s in the most intensively staffed area of the hospital. We can give her medication to calm her without sedating her if she’s distressed.”

The men returned to the waiting room. Nevvie wasn’t awake by the eight a.m. visitation. They had removed the breathing tube, replacing it with an oxygen cannula in her nose, and she still had the nasal drainage tube. The next visitation wasn’t until one p.m. The day nurse promised to call them immediately if she awoke.

Nevvie felt trapped, suffocated. Like she was wrapped in a black cotton cocoon with no way to escape. What happened? Where were her boys?

Oh, God, please let them be okay!

Images roiled through her brain—the Halloween party, the spa day, the boys proposing, when they rescued her from…

Alex! He attacked her!

Nevvie’s eyes flew open. She gasped for air, trying to scream but her throat was sore, raw, her voice little more than a weak croak. She frantically clawed at the air and then a nurse was at her side, trying to calm her. Where the hell was she? She hurt. Goddamn her stomach hurt!

“Ty…Tom…”

“It’s okay, Ms. Barton,” the nurse soothed. “You’re in Tampa Community Hospital. You’re okay.”

Nevvie looked around. “…boys…” They weren’t there.

“You’re safe, ma’am.” A doctor examined her, checking her vital signs. “You had surgery and you’re in the intensive care unit.”

Nevvie looked at the nurse again and tried to speak. “Where are they?” Nevvie tried to sit up but the nurse’s hand and a dizzying wave of pain held her back.

“Where’s who?”

Nevvie felt the tears and didn’t try to stop them. Were they even here? She’d yelled and screamed at them, and now she needed them. She was still pissed, but she was willing to deal with that later. She couldn’t leave them. She needed them. Now.

“Where are my husbands?”

The nurse and the doctor exchanged glances.

The men looked up when a doctor walked into the waiting room. “Mr. Paulson? Mr. Kinsey?”

They both stood.

“Please follow me.” He left without waiting for them. Tyler and Thomas exchanged a brief look before hurrying after him. At the SICU door the doctor turned and dropped his voice.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, and frankly, I don’t care. It’s not my business. She’s awake. You can stay for thirty minutes unless her condition changes or there’s an emergency.” He looked at the men. “She woke up asking for her ‘husbands.’ I’m assuming that’s you two.”

Both men nodded.

“I’m won’t have to call security to keep the peace, will I?”

The men shook their heads.

“No,” Tyler said, trying to cover. “It’s fine. I’m sure she’s just upset. We did warn the staff she’s terrified of being in the hospital.”

The doctor eyed them and finally let them in. They scrubbed as fast as they could and raced to Nevvie’s alcove. When she saw them she closed her eyes and reached out both hands, sobbing with relief as they huddled close.

Tyler didn’t care who saw him cry. His angel was awake, that’s all that mattered. “Nevvie,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I love you so much.”

She weakly squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, sweetheart.”

She squeezed again. “Stop. It’s okay.”

Thomas held her other hand. “You scared me bad, Nevvie. I was afraid I’d lost you, sugar.”

She squeezed his hand. “Not yet. Alex?”

“In jail. Denied bond.”

“Can you stay?”

“Thirty minutes,” Thomas told her. “I’m sorry, then we have to leave. Once you’re out of here and in a regular room we can probably sweet talk them into letting us bend the rules so I can stay with you all the time.”

If Tyler noticed his particular phraseology, he said nothing.

But Nevvie noticed. She squeezed their hands. “Both. Not just you.”

Thomas glared at Tyler. Now was not the time to stress her out. “I doubt they’ll let us both stay all the time, sugar, but we’ll work something out, alternate shifts. Okay?”

She nodded and squeezed their hands again. “I love you. Both. I need both.”

Tyler leaned in. “Sweetheart, we’re here for you. Don’t worry, we’re fine. You just focus on getting better.”

“Did you sleep?”

Thomas nodded. “Some. They made us go home.”

She brought her hands together over her chest, forcing the men’s hands to touch while she held them. Neither had the heart to pull away.

“Eat. Rest. Okay?” She held them like that until the nurse told them their time was up. Nevvie was falling asleep anyway. Each man leaned over and tenderly kissed her on the lips.

“I love you, Nevvie,” Tyler whispered.

“Love you, too.”

“Love you, baby girl,” Tom said. “I’ll take care of you. You just get better.”

“Love you, too. Both.”

The men reluctantly left.

They came back to see Nevvie later. In that time the men had spoken less than ten words. The staff bent the rules and let them stay an hour with the warning that the men would have to leave if another SICU patient had an emergency. Nevvie drifted to sleep before their time was up, and the men kissed her and reluctantly left.

When they returned home they spotted a car waiting, parked on the street. A woman and a man jumped out. “Mr. Paulson? Barbara Walsing, from the Tampa Tribune. Can we talk with you?”

He held up a hand and shook his head, heading for the house. Thomas grabbed the mail from their box, the paper laying in the drive, and shook his head.

“No comment. Please, just give us privacy.”

He locked the front door behind him and dumped the mail and paper on the counter. He yanked the paper from the bag and looked at it, nothing in the A section. In the local section, a headline on the front page above the fold read, “Local Author’s Housemate Stabbed, Critical.”

Goddammit.

He took a deep breath and read. While it didn’t specifically mention them being gay, it said, “…the housemate of famous author, Tyler Paulson, and his long-time partner, award-winning architect and local developer, Thomas Kinsey…”

Great. Hopefully Tyler had called Maggie, because he’d totally forgotten.

Carrying the paper, he stopped at the answering machine. Over forty messages and it blinked that the machine was full.

Craptacular. He walked to the bedroom. Without a word he handed Tyler the paper.

He sank to the bed, reading. “I’m sorry, Thomas,” he finally whispered.

Thomas undressed. He still wore her necklace and rings under his shirt. “For what, Ty?” His anger boiled, barely restrained. “For nearly getting her killed? For breaking her heart? For being a fucking dumb shit? You need to be a little more specific than that.”

“For everything. I’m so sorry.”

“Here’s how this is going to work. I won’t have her become a media sideshow. The gay guys’ girlfriend. So I am going to take care of her. You are going to stay the fuck away from her once she’s out of ICU. She doesn’t need TMZ offering bounties for pictures of you at her bedside.”

“You can’t stay there twenty-four hours a day. You have to sleep.”

“You’re right. You can sit with her at night. From midnight until six a.m. The rest of the time, I’ll be with her, I’ll take care of her. You do whatever you have to do around here, you handle the fucking media, the phone calls, all the bullshit. I will take care of her, and you will take care of any and everything else. Do I make myself clear?”

Tyler nodded, unable to bear the weight of his angry glare.

“Don’t go stressing her out. Don’t go blubbering all over her. For now we’ll pretend everything’s fine between you and me so she doesn’t worry. You and I will deal with the rest of this shit after she’s home and healed up though.”

He jabbed his finger at Tyler. “You and your fucking plans. I will not lose her. Do you understand me? Not for you, or anyone else on this fucking planet. She might not want to choose, but if it means not losing her, I damn sure will.”

Tyler offered no resistance. Thomas was a man usually slow to anger, but when enraged he hated with a passion and was slow to forgive—if ever. Once he formed a grudge it became as solid and durable as the Great Wall of China.

Tyler left the bedroom and found a notepad, started playing the answering machine messages. The Tampa Trib, St. Pete Times. All the local TV stations. CNN. Many leaving more than one message. His agent, his editor, and his publicist. Eddie and Pete and a few other friends.

His mother. Damn, that meant it had reached the UK tabloids. He’d have to get their home number changed.

He wrote them all down and cleared the machine, knowing at this rate it would be full again by the next evening.

When Tyler finally emerged from his shower, Thomas was tightly curled on his side at the far edge of the bed. Tyler didn’t speak to him. He lay down on his side of the bed and tried to sleep, feeling the vast gulf between them through his very core. He desperately wanted to reach out to him, apologize and comfort him, but was afraid it would only make things worse.

Tyler switched pillows, taking one of Nevvie’s. The smell of her shampoo on the pillowcase made his heart ache.

The men arrived early the next morning to speak to the doctors during rounds, but the doctor intercepted them at the SICU desk. “Fifteen minutes. She spiked a fever overnight and we’re worried about infection.”

Tyler’s heart fell. “Will she be all right?”

“We’ve upped her antibiotics and put her on a morphine pump for pain. She’s pretty out of it. Her blood pressure’s good, but if we can’t knock out the infection with drugs we might have to go in and find the problem.”

Nevvie’s color didn’t look good either. Ashen, her eyes sunken and dull, she managed a weak smile. She squeezed their hands and held on the entire visit. She still had the tube in her nose, as well as an oxygen cannula. Tyler suspected the morphine helped not only her pain but her nerves. She fell asleep after ten minutes and they both kissed her on the forehead before filing out of the SICU.

Tyler called to check on her every hour while dodging calls from news outlets and his mother. Nevvie’s fever steadily rose. At noon the nurse called and informed him they were prepping Nevvie for surgery, afraid she had an abscess. The men raced to the hospital, but Nevvie was already in the OR.

Two hours later the surgeon appeared in the waiting room. “I think we found the source of infection, but needless to say she’s not leaving the SICU until we know for sure. You won’t be able to talk to her until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so you might as well go home.”

“Please, can we just see her?” Thomas asked.

The doctor nodded. She was in the same bed as before, unconscious and back on the respirator. Both men cried, whispering their love before kissing her goodbye.

A television crew had parked across the street from the house and when they pulled in, Thomas went inside, leaving Tyler to deal with them. This was his mess. He’d have to clean it up.

Tyler took a deep breath and waited while the reporter jogged up, followed by a cameraman. “Mr. Paulson? Tyler Paulson?”

“Yes.”

“Can we interview you, get a statement?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, no statement. Please respect our privacy.”

“What exactly is your relationship with Ms. Barton?”

“Our focus right now is making sure she gets the care she needs to recover. We’ll release a statement at a more appropriate time, but for now I will make no other comments. Thank you.” He retreated to the house. There were fifteen messages on the answering machine.

His first call was to Bob Campbell, their attorney.

“I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

Tyler closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me what to do, Bob.”

“What do you want me to say? You can’t exactly give a statement to the media saying she’s your common-law wife, or label her your domestic partner.”

“How do I protect her and Thomas from this?”

“You can’t. When the three of you opted for this ‘alternative lifestyle’ of yours you opened a can of worms. It’s not like you’re Joe Mechanic working at the Jiffy Lube. You aren’t flying under the radar anymore. The 911 tape doesn’t help, either.”

“What?”

“Pull up Channel 8’s website. I’m sure they’ve got the clip online by now. That came out around noon today.”

“Shit.” Tyler sat at his computer and found the site. Sure enough. “I’ll call you back, Bob.” He hung up and clicked on the link to play the video from their noon news. The anchor recapped the story and then they played the audio with—how helpful of them—captioning.

Operator: 911, what is your emergency?

Thomas Kinsey: I need a deputy, now, 270 Sailfish Court!

Operator: Sir, what is your emergency?

Kinsey: We’ve got an intruder at our home, just got home, someone’s inside.

Operator: Sir, are they armed? Do you know how many there are?… Sir?… Are you there?

Kinsey: (unintelligible)…Nevvie! Oh God, he stabbed her! Please, send an ambulance! Oh, God, she’s bleeding everywhere!

Operator: Who was stabbed, sir?

Kinsey: He stabbed my wife!

Operator: Sir, please calm down—

Kinsey: God ****ing dammit, send a ****ing ambulance! She’s dying! He hit Tyler, he’s out cold, but she’s dying, you’ve got to save her!

Operator: Who is Tyler? Is he okay?

Kinsey: He’s my partner—I don’t know, he’s on the floor unconscious, he got hit with a chair when he tried to help Nevvie, please, you’ve got to send an ambulance…

The agony in Thomas’ voice crushed Tyler’s soul. He shut down the browser. Just when he thought he’d grown accustomed to their current pit of hell they exposed yet another fresher, deeper layer.

He called Bob back. “I played it.”

“I suppose the only saving grace is that he called Nevvie his wife and you his partner. Partner can mean a lot of things. People will assume it means boyfriend, but you can spin it to make it look like you’re the odd man out and sharing a house.”

“I’ll call Elliot Paterno. The two of you work something out and get it to me to look at before it goes to the media. I want Nevvie and Thomas to look good.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t care what I look like. Say they’re engaged but living together and in the stress he said wife, whatever. Get the heat off of them. If you need to spin it so people come after me, fine.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do mean that.”

Bob hesitated. “What happened, Ty? The news said he followed her home.”

“I screwed up and made an ass out of myself, and she rightfully got very upset with me. She was in search of boxes to move out.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yes.” Tyler took a deep breath. “It was my fault. I take full responsibility. Nevvie and Thomas should not pay for my stupidity. Please, whatever we need to do to take the focus off them, that’s fine. Let me see it for approval before it goes out.”

“How much does your publicist know about her?”

“He’s a don’t ask, don’t tell guy. He knows we have an arrangement.”

“How much do you want me to tell him?”

“He won’t talk, if that’s what you mean.”

“We need a statement that won’t give the guy’s defense any leverage later at the trial.”

Tyler swore under his breath. Of course. Unless Alex struck a plea deal, they’d all have to testify. More torture for his poor Nevvie and dear Thomas.

“Work it up. Make sure it’s okay from your perspective. I don’t want it going out until I see it.”

Bob paused. “It might be better to push her to marry Thomas when she’s out of the hospital.”

Tyler sighed. He’d already thought about it. “I know.”

He called Elliot Paterno and gave him Bob’s information, fielded his questions, then called his agent and editor. Eddie. A few other friends.

The last—and worst. He checked the time and held his breath as the call connected, then a woman answered.

“Hello?”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a tension headache. “Hello, Mother.”