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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Down and Out
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,119
Summary: Andrej’s been hurt and Zayne spends some time alone in the emergency room.
Author’s Note: I started writing this back in June after Dreamy gave me some excellent prompts. I pounded out a little over 3k words in two days and then suddenly realized something horrifying: I’d already written something exactly like this. And I mean exactly. *sighs* So, I put off finishing this because, honestly, I didn’t know if anyone would want to read something so similar to something else I’d already put out there. I needed some words for this month, so I forced myself to finish it and now I’m posting it, too. For better or for worse.
“You have to let me see him.”
“Are you family?”
“No, I’m not but –”
“Sorry, family only.”
“You can’t do this to me!”
Glaring at the back of the retreating doctor, Zayne fell limply into the chair behind him. How did this even happen? How could it have gotten to this point?
Zayne needed to do something, but he didn’t know what. He could call the narco, would have to eventually because he had ridden with Zek into work this morning. Zek’s car was still in the lot at the station, waiting for its owner to return.
If he returned.
He could feel the sob welling up in his chest so he pushed it down. Now was not the time to lose his shit, no matter how understandable it might be. Rising to his feet, Zayne paced the length of the emergency room, his hands moving from his pockets, to his face, to rake roughly through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do? Damnit, he was an officer of the law and his partner had been shot. How could they not allow him to see Zek?
“Family of Andrej Zeklos,” a nurse called.
Ears catching the words, Zayne narrowed in on where the sound was coming from. Stopping mid-pace, he realigned his course and made a beeline for where she stood, clipboard in hand.
“Zeklos. That’s me. Or, I mean, I’m here for him,” he spluttered. Where the hell had all of his speaking skills gone suddenly? He rarely bumbled what he had to say. Well, unless that damn ginger was in the picture. But Rosewood had that particular effect on a lot of people around the station it seemed.
The nurse looked him over and frowned. He was probably a shocking sight, even to an ER nurse. There was blood on his shirt and jeans, his hair was standing on end, likely supported by whatever bits of Zek’s blood had been on Zayne’s hands earlier. Talk about an all-natural hair product.
“Are you family,” she asked.
Breathe, he reminded himself. His hand moved towards where his badge rested on his hip. “I’m not but he’s my partner.” Zayne pulled his badge off his belt and showed it to the woman, thankful that his brain was finally firing on at least one cylinder. “We were working when this happened. And believe me, I know about your stupid policy, but he doesn’t have any family here. They’re all across the damn Atlantic.”
“I see,” she said. The nurse – her nametag read Nancy, Zayne saw – gave him a long look before nodding. “Your partner, is it Andrej?” Zayne nodded as she stumbled over the unusual spelling of Zek’s name, not wanting to speak and interrupt her flow. “Andrej is in surgery. The bullet was still lodged in his shoulder and it needs to be removed. They just took him back. It should be about an hour before he’s in recovery.”
Zayne sighed, bracing a hand against the wall so he didn’t fall to the ground. “Thank you. I still don’t know what the hell is going on, but at least I know he’s still alive. That fu – um, doctor wouldn’t tell me anything.”
She turned and followed the direction of Zayne’s gaze. “Yeah, well, between you and me, he’s an asshole. I’ll make a note on your partner’s chart stating you’re his point of contact. No one should deny you any access after that. And if someone asks, lie.” Giving Zayne a wink, she called out the next name on her list.
He could feel the life drain from his bones. What now? Surgery? Holy shit, he hadn’t thought the wound was that bad. But maybe it was the only way to get the bullet out. Hell, he had no idea. He wasn’t a doctor after all. It was time to call the narco, now that he had some kind of information. Zayne dialed and waited. Voicemail. He hung up.
Zayne dialed again. Voicemail.
“Fucker, why aren’t you answering your phone,” he told the voice instructing him to leave a message. “I’ve got a serious goddamned situation here. I need you.”
Shoving his cell into his pocket, Zayne started to pace again. Why did that asshole shoot Zek and not him? He had been the one mouthing off to to the suspect, trying to egg him into a confession. But no, he’d pulled his fucking piece out of his waistband and pointed it straight at Zeklos’ beautiful face.
A smile tugged at the corners of Zayne’s mouth as he remembered that moment. Zek had been so damn calm. The suspect was screaming, spit flying from his lips, shaky hand pointing a death warrant at Zek, and Zeklos just stood there. Hands to his sides, palms facing outwards like he was getting ready to call a puppy to come play.
“I want to be like you, Zek,” he muttered.
“What was that, dear,” an elderly woman said, reaching out and brushing her fingers along his arm.
He stopped, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, nothing, ma’am,” he said. “I was just talking to myself.”
“You’d better watch that,” she teased. “Eccentric behavior is reserved for the old like me. At your age, they’ll put you away.”
Zayne couldn’t help but smile at her. “You are so right about that.”
“Is it your wife,” she asked.
“Is what my wife?” His mind had started to wander again and he hadn’t quite caught all she’d said.
“Is your wife the reason you’re here tonight, dear.” She patted the empty seat beside her and he saw the bruises on her arm. The tubes coming out and leading to the IV stand beside her. “Sit with me for a moment. I think we can both use a distraction.”
She wasn’t wrong, so Zayne sat. “No, it’s not my wife,” he finally said. “It’s my partner.”
Nodding, the old woman smiled. “So you have that kind of relationship,” she said. “I understand.”
Nah, she had no clue about the kind of relationship he had, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her either. He also wasn’t going to explain because he didn’t want to give the poor woman a heart attack. “He’s also my work partner,” Zayne said for reasons he didn’t understand. “We’re detectives.”
Smiling, she nodded again. “I see,” she said. “That’s a dangerous job you have.”
“It sure can be,” Zayne agreed. He could tell that she wasn’t buying that they were only partners either, figuring the obvious was written all over his face. Knowing that if he felt like such a mess, he probably looked worse. The dark splotches on her arm drew his attention again and his instincts were flaring. “Where’d you get those nasty bruises on your arm? They look painful.”
“Dialysis, dear,” she explained, holding her arm out. “It’s hard on your body. Even harder when you’re my age.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. He knew very little about it, but he knew that it wore you out. He’d been young at the time, but he remembered his grandfather after his appointments. All he could do was hope that the technology had improved since then. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I have good days and I have bad days.” She glanced at the IV pole and the bottle of fluid attached to it. “Today has not been a good day.”
“Mrs. Culpepper?” A nurse rolled a wheelchair to a stop beside the woman. “Are you ready, Doris? They’ve got a room for you.”
Doris nodded and reached out to the nurse for a hand to help her into her transportation. Zayne stood and held out his hand. “Let me,” he said. “I promise I washed all the blood off.”
“At my age,” she said, taking Zayne’s hand into her own, “that is the last thing I’m worried about. I hope your partner is okay.”
The nurse’s gaze flicked to Zayne and her eyes widened. “Stay right here, I’ll bring you a clean shirt.”
“What,” Zayne grinned, feeling a surge of amusement at her horrified expression. “You don’t want a man covered in blood in your ER?”
A snort escaped the nurse. “On the off chance we wind up with any children in here tonight, no. I’ll be right back once I’ve dropped her off.”
“Good luck, Doris,” Zayne said.
“I’ll pray for you,” she said, waving as she was wheeled off.
“It’s going to take more than prayers,” he muttered, but he wasn’t going to say no either. What it was going to take was a damned miracle.
He dialed the ginger again with the same results as before. “James,” he sighed. “I know you’re working but why haven’t you called me back yet? It’s not like you to leave me hanging like this.” Something occurred to him then and his words froze in his throat. “God, just let me know you’re okay.”
Zayne shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked around the emergency room. It was one of the nicer ones in the valley, being attached to one of the newer hospitals. But it was still an emergency room and he was still here. Alone. Wondering if Zek was going to be okay or not. He rested his arms on his thighs and bent forward, staring at the floor. How did they do it? All these people around him, they sat and they waited. It was beyond his comprehension. And possibly beyond his ability.
“I have the right to remain silent,” he said, a smile forming at the memory of what a drunk had once said to him. “But not the ability.” And the guy had gone on to prove it by telling Zayne all about the illegal – but not horrible – things he’d been up to. Some days he wished he still walked the beat ticketing cars, taking inebriated assholes to the drunk tank. It had to be simpler than what he was dealing with right now. At least none of his partners on patrol had ever been shot by a suspected murderer.
The ringing of his phone startled him. Zayne jumped to his feet and retrieved it from his pocket. He never thought he’d be so grateful to see the ginger’s smiling face light up his screen as he was right then. “Rosewood,” he said, wandering away from the bank of chairs and waiting people so they could talk in some semblance of peace. “What the hell man? You okay?”
“Yeah,” James said, voice sounding far away. “Sorry. Was working undercover and didn’t have my phone on me. I left it in the car. Should have given it to Hansen like I usually do. What’s up?”
Thank god that was all it was. Zayne was still pissed, but he put it aside. Even he was self-aware enough to know that it was worry causing his anger. “Zek’s been shot.”
“What?” Rosewood’s voice was sharp and loud in his ear. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”
“I don’t really know,” Zayne confessed. “I know he’s in surgery to get the bullet out of his shoulder, but that’s it.”
“Shit,” James said. “Hansen, I need a ride. Where are you, Reyes?”
“Siena,” he said. It had been the closest to where they’d been.
“We’re on our way. You can explain what happened when we get there.”
“Thanks,” Zayne said, grateful to know the redhead was on his way. “I’m in the ER. I’ll be the one sobbing in the corner.”
James chuckled despite the circumstances. “Hang in there, cowboy. I’m on my way.”
“My very own cavalry,” Zayne joked back. “Tell Hansen thank you.”
“Reyes,” James said when he appeared a good fifteen minutes later. “What’s the word? Any more news on Andy yet?”
“Nah,” Zayne said, dragging his eyes off the television playing soundlessly in the corner of the ER. He blinked. “Wait – Rosewood are you wearing makeup? I swear, that looks like eyeliner.”
“What?” James’ hand brushed his face nervously. “No I am not.”
“Yes, he is,” Jake countered with a snicker.
“You told me I got it all off,” James growled.
“I thought you had,” Jake said. “The lighting in the locker room at the station isn’t the best.”
“God damnit,” James grunted. “I’ll be right back.”
Zayne watched the narco for a moment before turning to Hansen. “Um, why is he wearing eyeliner anyway?”
“We were loaned out to vice,” Jake explained. “They seem to like watching Rosewood work the corner.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Zayne snorted. “The poor guy. But what’s with the face paint?”
Jake shrugged. “Not entirely sure if they think it makes him look more authentic or if it’s one of those asshole’s idea of a joke.”
“Sick joke if that’s what it is,” Zayne sighed. “Gotta admit, it made his eyes pop.”
“You should have seen the fishnets,” Jake grinned. “He’s so damn white that the black leggings were not doing him any justice.”
“I don’t know what the hell the two of you are laughing about over there, but it had better not be me,” James said, approaching the two giggling detectives.
“Never, narco,” Zayne lied.
“What Reyes said,” Jake added, pointing to the Texan.
“Whatever,” James said. “Any news? You never said.”
“Sorry, gingerbread,” Zayne said. “I got distracted by your pretty blue eyes.”
“God help me,” James groaned, putting his face into his hands.
“No news yet,” he said, reaching out to squeeze James’ arm. “Nurse told me about an hour and that was a good thirty minutes ago. All we can do is wait.”
“Have you eaten,” Jake asked. “James and I were going to clean up and get food when he heard your voice mail. I can run and get us all something.”
“That would be amazing,” Zayne said, realizing suddenly that he was starving.
“On it,” Jake said.
“Come on,” James said, tugging on Zayne’s shirt. He guided them to the one corner of the emergency room not crowded with people. “Sit. Relax as best you can. What happened?”
Zayne rubbed a hand over his face. He was two seconds away from crashing hard, but he sat as he was instructed. “I really don’t know. We approached the suspect and began asking him questions. He was flinging his arms around, shouting about how he didn’t do it and, if he had, the bitch would have deserved every bullet.” He shook his head, the guy really was a piece of work. “Like an idiot, I engaged him, thinking that if someone came for him as aggressively as he was coming for us, he’d back down.”
“You were wrong,” James offered.
“I was.” Zayne sighed and looked at the floor. “I figured if anything, he’d swing at me. But he surprised us all by pulling a Glock out of the back of his pants and pointing it at Zeklos.”
“Why the fuck did he aim at Andy if you were pissing him off?”
“Good damn question,” Zayne said. “One I’ve been asking myself since it happened. Zek was standing there so calm it was eerie. Even after the gun went off, he never once panicked.” A smile crept onto Zayne’s face then, feeling oddly right despite the situation. “He started giving me instructions for slowing the bleeding. He said, ‘If you want me to survive until the medics arrive, you need to put more pressure on the wound, Zayne.’. I can’t with him sometimes.”
“That’s Andy for you,” James agreed. His eyes narrowed and he reached a hand out towards Zayne’s head. “I think you have blood in your hair, cowboy.”
Zayne ran his fingers through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time that day. “Yeah, I know. I either didn’t get it all off my hands or –” The thought stopped him cold.
“Or you did it not realizing you had Andy’s blood all over your hands.”
He turned wide, green eyes on the redhead, nodding slowly. “That’s… awful of me, isn’t it?”
“Not when you’re watching your boyfriend bleed out it isn’t,” James assured him.
He was getting ready to reply when he saw a familiar face headed their way. Zayne grabbed James’ arm and shook it. “That’s the nurse, maybe she has news.”
They stood as she came nearer. “Nurse Nancy,” Zayne said, feeling silly as the words left his mouth. “Good news, I hope?”
She grinned at them. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is James,” Zayne said, giving the redhead a fleeting glance. “He works with Zek and me.”
Nodding, she glanced at her clipboard before focusing on the two men. “Your partner is doing well,” she said, sending a bolt of relief through Zayne. “He’s out of surgery and in observation for the time being. They are getting a room set up for him and we’ll let you know when he’s been moved so you can go see him.”
“Thank god,” Zayne said.
“Thank you,” James said, half grinning at Zayne. “We appreciate the update.”
“Anytime I can bring good news, I will,” she said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“We will,” Zayne told her back. Although the only thing he needed right then was to see Zeklos. And maybe possibly curl up beside him and go to sleep.
“Food has arrived,” Jake said, coming in on the heels of the nurse. “You two look better, does that mean you’ve heard something?”
“He’s out of surgery,” Zayne said eagerly. “He’s going to be fine.”
“That’s great,” Jake said. “I’m happy to hear it, really. You two would fall the hell apart without his neurotic ass to hold you together.”
“Hey,” Zayne said, snatching a cheeseburger out of Jake’s hands. “That’s my neurotic boyfriend you’re talking about.”
Jake chuckled. “And this is you, falling the fuck apart without him. Point made.”
“Eat your burger,” James laughed. “He’s not wrong.”
“Now that we know he’s okay,” James said, rising to his feet once they’d finished their meal. “I’m going to have Hansen take me back to get my car so he’s not stuck here half the night waiting on us. Call me when you get in to see him, okay?”
Zayne nodded and accepted the hugs that both the narco and his partner offered.
“I shouldn’t be more than half an hour, okay?” James rested a hand on Zayne’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Zayne said, patting James’ freckled hand. “Drive safe. He’s fine, there’s no need to rush and kill yourself.”
“Understood,” James said, ruffling Reyes’ unruly hair. “See you in a bit.”
Nurse Nancy returned twenty minutes later and led him to a quiet room on the ninth floor. Before entering, he took note of the room number and texted it to James so he could find them when he got back to the hospital.
“Go on in whenever you’re ready,” she said. “He’s sleeping off what’s left of the anesthetic.”
“Thank you,” he told her, resisting the urge to give her a hug.
“Anytime,” she said, giving him a wink and leaving him outside the room.
Taking a deep breath, Zayne pushed the door open and entered. Zeklos was asleep on the bed, head turned to the side. There was a steady beeping from a machine just off to the right side of the bed. Good thing Zek was drugged otherwise he wouldn’t get any damn sleep.
He stepped closer to the bed and looked down at his partner. Zeklos’ face was pale, his eyes closed and highlighted by deep, dark circles. His shoulder was bandaged and immobilized and the sight of it made Zayne want to cry.
“Should have kept my damn mouth shut,” he muttered.
“That never happens,” Zeklos replied sleepily.
“Oh god, you’re awake!”
“Not for long,” Zeklos said, eyes fluttering closed. “So tired.”
“Go to sleep, baby,” Zayne said, brushing Zeklos’ dark hair out of his eyes. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” Zeklos muttered, the drugs drawing him back into the abyss. “I feel so much safer now that you’re with me.”
The words took the wind out of Zayne’s sails. He felt his shoulders slump. “I’m the reason you got shot, how can I make you feel safer, Zek?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Andrej slurred. “You were doing your job. And… and…”
“Shh,” Zayne soothed, curling his fingers around Andrej’s hand. “It’s okay, just go to sleep.”
“Nu,” he murmured. “No, I have to… I have to say… you always protect me, even when it does not work out right. And… și te iubesc.”
Zayne smiled and pressed a kiss to Zeklos’ forehead. “I love you, too, you nut.”
Zeklos’ eyes fluttered closed and his breathing deepened, indicating that the drugs had won this battle yet again. Which was for the best because Zayne was not in the right state of mind to discuss whether or not he managed to keep Zeklos safe. There’d been a time or two, sure, when he’d gotten between his partner and trouble. But today hadn’t been one of them. Zek said it wasn’t his fault, but Zayne didn’t believe it. His heart ached seeing Zek limp and broken. Looking around, Zayne pushed the door to the room closed and sat on the nearest chair. Tugging his boots off, he stuffed his badge into one, his firearm into the other and carried them over to a spot near the bed where they wouldn’t be seen. Taking another look around the room, he climbed into bed beside his partner, resting one arm gently across his middle, and fell asleep.
“Oh for the love of…” James’ scolding dissipated into a snort of amusement.
Andrej was wide awake and smiling at the cowboy who was out cold beside him. “I think he has had a hard day, Jay.”
“If you say so, Andy,” he chuckled. “I think he didn’t know what to do without you around to tell him.”
He smoothed Zayne’s blood spotted hair and smiled. “I do not care. It was nice to wake up and not be alone.”
“Yeah,” said a voice from the door. “While I can understand that, you might want to get him out of your bed before the doctor gets here to check on you.”
“Shit,” James choked out. “Sorry ma’am,” he said, nodding at the nurse. “We’ll weak him up and –”
“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off. “He was smart enough not to lie on the injured side at least.” She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. “Doc’s on his way.”
She made a few notes on Andrej’s chart and walked out of the room.
“We need to wake him up,” Andrej said. “But he is lying on my good arm.”
James gave Zayne’s shoulder a gentle shake. “C’mon, cowboy, wakey wakey.”
Zayne opened his eyes and groaned. “Aw hell, I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Andrej said, blue eyes bright and clear.
“You’re not as drugged as you were when I came up here,” he observed. “That makes me happy.”
“It makes me happy, too, Zayne,” Andrej said. “I do not like to be impaired like that.”
“I don’t think any of us do,” James said. “Reyes, the nurse said a doctor was on his way in here to check on Andy so you need to move your ass.”
“Yeah,” Zayne agreed. “I probably shouldn’t be here anyway. I only meant to lie down for a minute. I’m sorry.”
Andrej reached for him as Zayne left his side. “I do not mind. I sleep with one or both of you beside me every night. It is odd for me to sleep alone now.”
“You won’t have to worry about that once you get home,” James assured him.
“Speaking of which,” Zayne said, turning towards the entering doctor. “When the hell can we take him home?”
“Maybe today,” the doctor said. “But you have to shut up and let me examine him first.”
It took approximately an hour and a half to get Zeklos discharged, but at long last, they were home. All of them. James had promised to not leave once he’d gone to his apartment and gotten some clothes for the next few days. He really needed to work on the narco and get him to fully give up that place. On average, Rosewood was only spending one night a week there anyway. It was pointless to keep paying rent, but Zayne suspected that, once he gave it up, he was stuck. Zayne could understand that, he’d been there himself.
Baby steps, he reminded himself. If he took it slow, he could convince the redhead of anything. But, for now, they had more important things to do, like take care of Zeklos.
Everything else could wait.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,119
Summary: Andrej’s been hurt and Zayne spends some time alone in the emergency room.
Author’s Note: I started writing this back in June after Dreamy gave me some excellent prompts. I pounded out a little over 3k words in two days and then suddenly realized something horrifying: I’d already written something exactly like this. And I mean exactly. *sighs* So, I put off finishing this because, honestly, I didn’t know if anyone would want to read something so similar to something else I’d already put out there. I needed some words for this month, so I forced myself to finish it and now I’m posting it, too. For better or for worse.
“You have to let me see him.”
“Are you family?”
“No, I’m not but –”
“Sorry, family only.”
“You can’t do this to me!”
Glaring at the back of the retreating doctor, Zayne fell limply into the chair behind him. How did this even happen? How could it have gotten to this point?
Zayne needed to do something, but he didn’t know what. He could call the narco, would have to eventually because he had ridden with Zek into work this morning. Zek’s car was still in the lot at the station, waiting for its owner to return.
If he returned.
He could feel the sob welling up in his chest so he pushed it down. Now was not the time to lose his shit, no matter how understandable it might be. Rising to his feet, Zayne paced the length of the emergency room, his hands moving from his pockets, to his face, to rake roughly through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do? Damnit, he was an officer of the law and his partner had been shot. How could they not allow him to see Zek?
“Family of Andrej Zeklos,” a nurse called.
Ears catching the words, Zayne narrowed in on where the sound was coming from. Stopping mid-pace, he realigned his course and made a beeline for where she stood, clipboard in hand.
“Zeklos. That’s me. Or, I mean, I’m here for him,” he spluttered. Where the hell had all of his speaking skills gone suddenly? He rarely bumbled what he had to say. Well, unless that damn ginger was in the picture. But Rosewood had that particular effect on a lot of people around the station it seemed.
The nurse looked him over and frowned. He was probably a shocking sight, even to an ER nurse. There was blood on his shirt and jeans, his hair was standing on end, likely supported by whatever bits of Zek’s blood had been on Zayne’s hands earlier. Talk about an all-natural hair product.
“Are you family,” she asked.
Breathe, he reminded himself. His hand moved towards where his badge rested on his hip. “I’m not but he’s my partner.” Zayne pulled his badge off his belt and showed it to the woman, thankful that his brain was finally firing on at least one cylinder. “We were working when this happened. And believe me, I know about your stupid policy, but he doesn’t have any family here. They’re all across the damn Atlantic.”
“I see,” she said. The nurse – her nametag read Nancy, Zayne saw – gave him a long look before nodding. “Your partner, is it Andrej?” Zayne nodded as she stumbled over the unusual spelling of Zek’s name, not wanting to speak and interrupt her flow. “Andrej is in surgery. The bullet was still lodged in his shoulder and it needs to be removed. They just took him back. It should be about an hour before he’s in recovery.”
Zayne sighed, bracing a hand against the wall so he didn’t fall to the ground. “Thank you. I still don’t know what the hell is going on, but at least I know he’s still alive. That fu – um, doctor wouldn’t tell me anything.”
She turned and followed the direction of Zayne’s gaze. “Yeah, well, between you and me, he’s an asshole. I’ll make a note on your partner’s chart stating you’re his point of contact. No one should deny you any access after that. And if someone asks, lie.” Giving Zayne a wink, she called out the next name on her list.
He could feel the life drain from his bones. What now? Surgery? Holy shit, he hadn’t thought the wound was that bad. But maybe it was the only way to get the bullet out. Hell, he had no idea. He wasn’t a doctor after all. It was time to call the narco, now that he had some kind of information. Zayne dialed and waited. Voicemail. He hung up.
Zayne dialed again. Voicemail.
“Fucker, why aren’t you answering your phone,” he told the voice instructing him to leave a message. “I’ve got a serious goddamned situation here. I need you.”
Shoving his cell into his pocket, Zayne started to pace again. Why did that asshole shoot Zek and not him? He had been the one mouthing off to to the suspect, trying to egg him into a confession. But no, he’d pulled his fucking piece out of his waistband and pointed it straight at Zeklos’ beautiful face.
A smile tugged at the corners of Zayne’s mouth as he remembered that moment. Zek had been so damn calm. The suspect was screaming, spit flying from his lips, shaky hand pointing a death warrant at Zek, and Zeklos just stood there. Hands to his sides, palms facing outwards like he was getting ready to call a puppy to come play.
“I want to be like you, Zek,” he muttered.
“What was that, dear,” an elderly woman said, reaching out and brushing her fingers along his arm.
He stopped, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, nothing, ma’am,” he said. “I was just talking to myself.”
“You’d better watch that,” she teased. “Eccentric behavior is reserved for the old like me. At your age, they’ll put you away.”
Zayne couldn’t help but smile at her. “You are so right about that.”
“Is it your wife,” she asked.
“Is what my wife?” His mind had started to wander again and he hadn’t quite caught all she’d said.
“Is your wife the reason you’re here tonight, dear.” She patted the empty seat beside her and he saw the bruises on her arm. The tubes coming out and leading to the IV stand beside her. “Sit with me for a moment. I think we can both use a distraction.”
She wasn’t wrong, so Zayne sat. “No, it’s not my wife,” he finally said. “It’s my partner.”
Nodding, the old woman smiled. “So you have that kind of relationship,” she said. “I understand.”
Nah, she had no clue about the kind of relationship he had, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her either. He also wasn’t going to explain because he didn’t want to give the poor woman a heart attack. “He’s also my work partner,” Zayne said for reasons he didn’t understand. “We’re detectives.”
Smiling, she nodded again. “I see,” she said. “That’s a dangerous job you have.”
“It sure can be,” Zayne agreed. He could tell that she wasn’t buying that they were only partners either, figuring the obvious was written all over his face. Knowing that if he felt like such a mess, he probably looked worse. The dark splotches on her arm drew his attention again and his instincts were flaring. “Where’d you get those nasty bruises on your arm? They look painful.”
“Dialysis, dear,” she explained, holding her arm out. “It’s hard on your body. Even harder when you’re my age.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. He knew very little about it, but he knew that it wore you out. He’d been young at the time, but he remembered his grandfather after his appointments. All he could do was hope that the technology had improved since then. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I have good days and I have bad days.” She glanced at the IV pole and the bottle of fluid attached to it. “Today has not been a good day.”
“Mrs. Culpepper?” A nurse rolled a wheelchair to a stop beside the woman. “Are you ready, Doris? They’ve got a room for you.”
Doris nodded and reached out to the nurse for a hand to help her into her transportation. Zayne stood and held out his hand. “Let me,” he said. “I promise I washed all the blood off.”
“At my age,” she said, taking Zayne’s hand into her own, “that is the last thing I’m worried about. I hope your partner is okay.”
The nurse’s gaze flicked to Zayne and her eyes widened. “Stay right here, I’ll bring you a clean shirt.”
“What,” Zayne grinned, feeling a surge of amusement at her horrified expression. “You don’t want a man covered in blood in your ER?”
A snort escaped the nurse. “On the off chance we wind up with any children in here tonight, no. I’ll be right back once I’ve dropped her off.”
“Good luck, Doris,” Zayne said.
“I’ll pray for you,” she said, waving as she was wheeled off.
“It’s going to take more than prayers,” he muttered, but he wasn’t going to say no either. What it was going to take was a damned miracle.
He dialed the ginger again with the same results as before. “James,” he sighed. “I know you’re working but why haven’t you called me back yet? It’s not like you to leave me hanging like this.” Something occurred to him then and his words froze in his throat. “God, just let me know you’re okay.”
Zayne shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked around the emergency room. It was one of the nicer ones in the valley, being attached to one of the newer hospitals. But it was still an emergency room and he was still here. Alone. Wondering if Zek was going to be okay or not. He rested his arms on his thighs and bent forward, staring at the floor. How did they do it? All these people around him, they sat and they waited. It was beyond his comprehension. And possibly beyond his ability.
“I have the right to remain silent,” he said, a smile forming at the memory of what a drunk had once said to him. “But not the ability.” And the guy had gone on to prove it by telling Zayne all about the illegal – but not horrible – things he’d been up to. Some days he wished he still walked the beat ticketing cars, taking inebriated assholes to the drunk tank. It had to be simpler than what he was dealing with right now. At least none of his partners on patrol had ever been shot by a suspected murderer.
The ringing of his phone startled him. Zayne jumped to his feet and retrieved it from his pocket. He never thought he’d be so grateful to see the ginger’s smiling face light up his screen as he was right then. “Rosewood,” he said, wandering away from the bank of chairs and waiting people so they could talk in some semblance of peace. “What the hell man? You okay?”
“Yeah,” James said, voice sounding far away. “Sorry. Was working undercover and didn’t have my phone on me. I left it in the car. Should have given it to Hansen like I usually do. What’s up?”
Thank god that was all it was. Zayne was still pissed, but he put it aside. Even he was self-aware enough to know that it was worry causing his anger. “Zek’s been shot.”
“What?” Rosewood’s voice was sharp and loud in his ear. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”
“I don’t really know,” Zayne confessed. “I know he’s in surgery to get the bullet out of his shoulder, but that’s it.”
“Shit,” James said. “Hansen, I need a ride. Where are you, Reyes?”
“Siena,” he said. It had been the closest to where they’d been.
“We’re on our way. You can explain what happened when we get there.”
“Thanks,” Zayne said, grateful to know the redhead was on his way. “I’m in the ER. I’ll be the one sobbing in the corner.”
James chuckled despite the circumstances. “Hang in there, cowboy. I’m on my way.”
“My very own cavalry,” Zayne joked back. “Tell Hansen thank you.”
“Reyes,” James said when he appeared a good fifteen minutes later. “What’s the word? Any more news on Andy yet?”
“Nah,” Zayne said, dragging his eyes off the television playing soundlessly in the corner of the ER. He blinked. “Wait – Rosewood are you wearing makeup? I swear, that looks like eyeliner.”
“What?” James’ hand brushed his face nervously. “No I am not.”
“Yes, he is,” Jake countered with a snicker.
“You told me I got it all off,” James growled.
“I thought you had,” Jake said. “The lighting in the locker room at the station isn’t the best.”
“God damnit,” James grunted. “I’ll be right back.”
Zayne watched the narco for a moment before turning to Hansen. “Um, why is he wearing eyeliner anyway?”
“We were loaned out to vice,” Jake explained. “They seem to like watching Rosewood work the corner.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Zayne snorted. “The poor guy. But what’s with the face paint?”
Jake shrugged. “Not entirely sure if they think it makes him look more authentic or if it’s one of those asshole’s idea of a joke.”
“Sick joke if that’s what it is,” Zayne sighed. “Gotta admit, it made his eyes pop.”
“You should have seen the fishnets,” Jake grinned. “He’s so damn white that the black leggings were not doing him any justice.”
“I don’t know what the hell the two of you are laughing about over there, but it had better not be me,” James said, approaching the two giggling detectives.
“Never, narco,” Zayne lied.
“What Reyes said,” Jake added, pointing to the Texan.
“Whatever,” James said. “Any news? You never said.”
“Sorry, gingerbread,” Zayne said. “I got distracted by your pretty blue eyes.”
“God help me,” James groaned, putting his face into his hands.
“No news yet,” he said, reaching out to squeeze James’ arm. “Nurse told me about an hour and that was a good thirty minutes ago. All we can do is wait.”
“Have you eaten,” Jake asked. “James and I were going to clean up and get food when he heard your voice mail. I can run and get us all something.”
“That would be amazing,” Zayne said, realizing suddenly that he was starving.
“On it,” Jake said.
“Come on,” James said, tugging on Zayne’s shirt. He guided them to the one corner of the emergency room not crowded with people. “Sit. Relax as best you can. What happened?”
Zayne rubbed a hand over his face. He was two seconds away from crashing hard, but he sat as he was instructed. “I really don’t know. We approached the suspect and began asking him questions. He was flinging his arms around, shouting about how he didn’t do it and, if he had, the bitch would have deserved every bullet.” He shook his head, the guy really was a piece of work. “Like an idiot, I engaged him, thinking that if someone came for him as aggressively as he was coming for us, he’d back down.”
“You were wrong,” James offered.
“I was.” Zayne sighed and looked at the floor. “I figured if anything, he’d swing at me. But he surprised us all by pulling a Glock out of the back of his pants and pointing it at Zeklos.”
“Why the fuck did he aim at Andy if you were pissing him off?”
“Good damn question,” Zayne said. “One I’ve been asking myself since it happened. Zek was standing there so calm it was eerie. Even after the gun went off, he never once panicked.” A smile crept onto Zayne’s face then, feeling oddly right despite the situation. “He started giving me instructions for slowing the bleeding. He said, ‘If you want me to survive until the medics arrive, you need to put more pressure on the wound, Zayne.’. I can’t with him sometimes.”
“That’s Andy for you,” James agreed. His eyes narrowed and he reached a hand out towards Zayne’s head. “I think you have blood in your hair, cowboy.”
Zayne ran his fingers through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time that day. “Yeah, I know. I either didn’t get it all off my hands or –” The thought stopped him cold.
“Or you did it not realizing you had Andy’s blood all over your hands.”
He turned wide, green eyes on the redhead, nodding slowly. “That’s… awful of me, isn’t it?”
“Not when you’re watching your boyfriend bleed out it isn’t,” James assured him.
He was getting ready to reply when he saw a familiar face headed their way. Zayne grabbed James’ arm and shook it. “That’s the nurse, maybe she has news.”
They stood as she came nearer. “Nurse Nancy,” Zayne said, feeling silly as the words left his mouth. “Good news, I hope?”
She grinned at them. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is James,” Zayne said, giving the redhead a fleeting glance. “He works with Zek and me.”
Nodding, she glanced at her clipboard before focusing on the two men. “Your partner is doing well,” she said, sending a bolt of relief through Zayne. “He’s out of surgery and in observation for the time being. They are getting a room set up for him and we’ll let you know when he’s been moved so you can go see him.”
“Thank god,” Zayne said.
“Thank you,” James said, half grinning at Zayne. “We appreciate the update.”
“Anytime I can bring good news, I will,” she said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“We will,” Zayne told her back. Although the only thing he needed right then was to see Zeklos. And maybe possibly curl up beside him and go to sleep.
“Food has arrived,” Jake said, coming in on the heels of the nurse. “You two look better, does that mean you’ve heard something?”
“He’s out of surgery,” Zayne said eagerly. “He’s going to be fine.”
“That’s great,” Jake said. “I’m happy to hear it, really. You two would fall the hell apart without his neurotic ass to hold you together.”
“Hey,” Zayne said, snatching a cheeseburger out of Jake’s hands. “That’s my neurotic boyfriend you’re talking about.”
Jake chuckled. “And this is you, falling the fuck apart without him. Point made.”
“Eat your burger,” James laughed. “He’s not wrong.”
“Now that we know he’s okay,” James said, rising to his feet once they’d finished their meal. “I’m going to have Hansen take me back to get my car so he’s not stuck here half the night waiting on us. Call me when you get in to see him, okay?”
Zayne nodded and accepted the hugs that both the narco and his partner offered.
“I shouldn’t be more than half an hour, okay?” James rested a hand on Zayne’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Zayne said, patting James’ freckled hand. “Drive safe. He’s fine, there’s no need to rush and kill yourself.”
“Understood,” James said, ruffling Reyes’ unruly hair. “See you in a bit.”
Nurse Nancy returned twenty minutes later and led him to a quiet room on the ninth floor. Before entering, he took note of the room number and texted it to James so he could find them when he got back to the hospital.
“Go on in whenever you’re ready,” she said. “He’s sleeping off what’s left of the anesthetic.”
“Thank you,” he told her, resisting the urge to give her a hug.
“Anytime,” she said, giving him a wink and leaving him outside the room.
Taking a deep breath, Zayne pushed the door open and entered. Zeklos was asleep on the bed, head turned to the side. There was a steady beeping from a machine just off to the right side of the bed. Good thing Zek was drugged otherwise he wouldn’t get any damn sleep.
He stepped closer to the bed and looked down at his partner. Zeklos’ face was pale, his eyes closed and highlighted by deep, dark circles. His shoulder was bandaged and immobilized and the sight of it made Zayne want to cry.
“Should have kept my damn mouth shut,” he muttered.
“That never happens,” Zeklos replied sleepily.
“Oh god, you’re awake!”
“Not for long,” Zeklos said, eyes fluttering closed. “So tired.”
“Go to sleep, baby,” Zayne said, brushing Zeklos’ dark hair out of his eyes. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” Zeklos muttered, the drugs drawing him back into the abyss. “I feel so much safer now that you’re with me.”
The words took the wind out of Zayne’s sails. He felt his shoulders slump. “I’m the reason you got shot, how can I make you feel safer, Zek?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Andrej slurred. “You were doing your job. And… and…”
“Shh,” Zayne soothed, curling his fingers around Andrej’s hand. “It’s okay, just go to sleep.”
“Nu,” he murmured. “No, I have to… I have to say… you always protect me, even when it does not work out right. And… și te iubesc.”
Zayne smiled and pressed a kiss to Zeklos’ forehead. “I love you, too, you nut.”
Zeklos’ eyes fluttered closed and his breathing deepened, indicating that the drugs had won this battle yet again. Which was for the best because Zayne was not in the right state of mind to discuss whether or not he managed to keep Zeklos safe. There’d been a time or two, sure, when he’d gotten between his partner and trouble. But today hadn’t been one of them. Zek said it wasn’t his fault, but Zayne didn’t believe it. His heart ached seeing Zek limp and broken. Looking around, Zayne pushed the door to the room closed and sat on the nearest chair. Tugging his boots off, he stuffed his badge into one, his firearm into the other and carried them over to a spot near the bed where they wouldn’t be seen. Taking another look around the room, he climbed into bed beside his partner, resting one arm gently across his middle, and fell asleep.
“Oh for the love of…” James’ scolding dissipated into a snort of amusement.
Andrej was wide awake and smiling at the cowboy who was out cold beside him. “I think he has had a hard day, Jay.”
“If you say so, Andy,” he chuckled. “I think he didn’t know what to do without you around to tell him.”
He smoothed Zayne’s blood spotted hair and smiled. “I do not care. It was nice to wake up and not be alone.”
“Yeah,” said a voice from the door. “While I can understand that, you might want to get him out of your bed before the doctor gets here to check on you.”
“Shit,” James choked out. “Sorry ma’am,” he said, nodding at the nurse. “We’ll weak him up and –”
“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off. “He was smart enough not to lie on the injured side at least.” She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. “Doc’s on his way.”
She made a few notes on Andrej’s chart and walked out of the room.
“We need to wake him up,” Andrej said. “But he is lying on my good arm.”
James gave Zayne’s shoulder a gentle shake. “C’mon, cowboy, wakey wakey.”
Zayne opened his eyes and groaned. “Aw hell, I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Andrej said, blue eyes bright and clear.
“You’re not as drugged as you were when I came up here,” he observed. “That makes me happy.”
“It makes me happy, too, Zayne,” Andrej said. “I do not like to be impaired like that.”
“I don’t think any of us do,” James said. “Reyes, the nurse said a doctor was on his way in here to check on Andy so you need to move your ass.”
“Yeah,” Zayne agreed. “I probably shouldn’t be here anyway. I only meant to lie down for a minute. I’m sorry.”
Andrej reached for him as Zayne left his side. “I do not mind. I sleep with one or both of you beside me every night. It is odd for me to sleep alone now.”
“You won’t have to worry about that once you get home,” James assured him.
“Speaking of which,” Zayne said, turning towards the entering doctor. “When the hell can we take him home?”
“Maybe today,” the doctor said. “But you have to shut up and let me examine him first.”
It took approximately an hour and a half to get Zeklos discharged, but at long last, they were home. All of them. James had promised to not leave once he’d gone to his apartment and gotten some clothes for the next few days. He really needed to work on the narco and get him to fully give up that place. On average, Rosewood was only spending one night a week there anyway. It was pointless to keep paying rent, but Zayne suspected that, once he gave it up, he was stuck. Zayne could understand that, he’d been there himself.
Baby steps, he reminded himself. If he took it slow, he could convince the redhead of anything. But, for now, they had more important things to do, like take care of Zeklos.
Everything else could wait.
