Page 4 of Bazooka

He was being unreasonable, yet I had no other choice but to consider my other options.

After deciding on one of them, I made a quick call, stopping only when we reached my building.

When I opened the car door and scooped him up in my arms, he groaned in pain.

I carried him into the building and climbed the stairs that led to the first floor.

Once in my apartment, I put him on the bed before bringing him a glass of water.

“Drink this,” I said, raising his head and holding a glass to his mouth.

He took a sip, but his eyes remained closed.

“How are you feeling?” I asked him the stupidest question in the world because he looked like shit.

“Fine.”

He wasn’t fine. Both his eyes were swollen and half-closed.

His cheek was badly bruised, as if someone had dragged his face over the asphalt.

His lips were cut in a few places. The laceration above his eyebrow was still bleeding, so I went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit and towels.

When I returned, I pressed the towel to his forehead and held it there for a minute or two.

“Help is coming,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw that the bleeding had stopped.

Luz muttered something incoherent while I reached for my phone and dialed a number.

After a few moments, a deep, lazy voice answered.

“Isn’t tomorrow your first day on the job, Bazooka?”

“Hey, Adam. It’s something else. Luz was attacked tonight. Can you send someone to the crime scene? They jumped him in the parking lot behind Pete’s.”

Adam “The Scarface” Markland was the longest-serving police officer in the LD, mostly thanks to his shiny personality. There wasn’t one toe he didn’t step on, so he wasn’t leaving the LD anytime soon.

“That little shit is in trouble again, huh?” Adam said, sounding bored.

“Yeah. I can’t leave him alone; otherwise, I would do it myself.”

“I’ll tell Jordan to send someone. That weirdo has too much time on his hands, anyway.”

“Thanks.”

Just as I hung up, my doorbell rang. I hurried over to the door and opened it, letting John Smith inside.

“Thank you for coming.”

John Smith ran his fingers through his hair, looking fidgety as always.

“You know I usually work with dead people, right?” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

John Smith was a forensic examiner for the Losers Division, but I didn’t know who else to call on such short notice.

“Just take a look at him,” I said, pointing toward the bedroom. “If you can’t help him, I’ll take him to the hospital whether he wants it or not.”

After John Smith opened his bag, I left the room, giving them privacy. I put on some coffee, looking out the window at the city enveloped in darkness.

My first day here. It was my first day here, and already I got mixed up in a big, fat mess. I barely set foot in Smitsville, only to step into a metaphorical pile of shit that only one person could create. Who? Easy question.

Lucius Zablonsky, called Luz, was a pain in my ass from the moment I met him.

He couldn’t do what he was told if his life depended on it; he listened to no one but himself, and he couldn’t take no for an answer.

I kept saying it repeatedly, but he wouldn’t listen.

And now I had his blood on my hands—literally.

When John Smith joined me in the kitchen, I handed him a cup of coffee. I would have offered him a seat, but I didn’t have a table or chair since I’d just gotten here .

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” John Smith said, taking a sip of coffee.

“But it’s not good either. His face looks awful, but it will heal.

I glued the cut on his eyebrow, so it shouldn’t bleed anymore.

His rib is cracked but not broken. If he rests, it should heal by itself.

His upper body is covered in bruises, but they’re superficial.

He told me he couldn’t stand on his left foot, so I checked his ankle.

It’s not broken, but someone probably stepped on it.

As far as the internal organs are concerned, I can’t say for sure.

We would know by now if he had internal bleeding, but I can’t guarantee it.

Living people are not my field of expertise. ”

I nodded, mulling it over.

“He needs to be monitored tonight,” John Smith continued. “If he gets a fever, nausea, or starts vomiting blood, take him to the ER straight away. Other than that, he needs painkillers, ice packs, and a comfortable bed. Do you have those?”

“Yeah. By the way…” I cleared my throat before continuing. “I spotted a used condom at the crime scene. Did they…?”

John Smith made a face. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t let me examine him, but he claims he’s fine. I took a swab from his mouth, though, so I’ll do the STD test.”

“Good. Please let me know when you have the results.”

“Okay. Bazooka… what the fuck happened to him?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “I have no idea. He called me out of the blue, and I tried to get it out of him, but he was barely conscious. He refused to go to the hospital, so I called you. But it’s Luz, John. When is he not in trouble?”

John Smith nodded in agreement. “I’ll drop by tomorrow to check up on him. Don’t let him out of your sight tonight.”

“Is he allowed to take a shower?”

“If he won’t change his mind about having a sexual assault exam, then yes.”

After John Smith left, I returned to the bedroom. Luz smiled when he saw me, although I wasn’t sure because his lips were swollen and busted. His turquoise eyes seemed weird, too.

“You’re here,” he said, sounding puzzled. “Huh!”

“Do you feel any better?” I asked him, wondering what kind of medication John Smith gave him because he looked high as a kite. He also looked as if he’d been put through a meat grinder.

“Oh, much better. I can’t feel a thing.”

I didn’t want to smile, but it sounded funny.

“I’ll change the sheets, and you can take a shower if you wish,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “But only if you’re sure you don’t want to be… examined further. There’s no going back on that. And I firmly recommend that you get examined.”

“I want to shower. Nothing happened.”

“Can I change your mind?”

“No, but can you please text my friends? I was supposed to meet them at the club.”

I reached for his phone. “What do you want me to write to them?”

“Find Alain’s number and just write ‘I’m with Bazooka’. I don’t want them to know what happened, at least not yet. They would worry.”

I did what he said, frowning when I got a reply.

“Did he text back?” Luz asked me.

“Yeah, but it’s just a bunch of question marks, exclamation marks, and… eggplant emojis? Why eggplant?”

Luz chuckled. “You’re not big on social media, are you?”

“I’m not a social person,” I grumbled. “Wanna take that shower now?”

“Yeah.”

He stood up on his own, but he seemed unsteady, so I scooped him up in my arms and carried him to the bathroom. It made him chuckle.

“Now I know I’m dreaming, kochanie ,” he said, resting his head on my shoulder. “Your hands are on me… I must be dreaming.”

“What does that word mean?” I asked him to keep the conversation going because his eyes kept closing.

“ Kochanie ? It means dear in Polish.”

“I didn’t know you were Polish,” I said, lowering him to his feet when we reached the shower. He wasn’t showing any signs that he was in pain, probably because of the meds that John Smith gave him.

“Only half,” he replied, trying to unbutton his shirt, but his fingers shook, so I intervened.

“Let me,” I said, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off him.

“This is a really good dream,” he joked as I scanned his torso, which was covered in nasty contusions.

He took a serious beating tonight, and it made me stark raving mad.

The guys who did this had no clue what kind of shitstorm was coming to them, because this shitstorm included me. And I was a big, mean S.O.B.

I took off Luz’s pants and socks, then I pulled his boxers down before turning my head so I wouldn’t see more than I had to.

“I don’t mind if you look,” Luz said. “I’m not shy.”

Yeah, no.

Instead of a reply, I helped him into the shower after ensuring the water was comfortably warm. When a stream of water hit him, he flinched and rested his hands on the tiles, closing his eyes.

“Can you manage by yourself?” I asked him, standing outside the shower.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, but he wasn’t moving. He also turned ashen in the face, looking as if he were about to collapse.

I realized this wasn’t happening, not with him barely able to stand on his feet. I considered my options, but I had only one. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t like how he looked either.

“Stay where you are,” I said and kicked off my shoes before stepping into the shower, clothes and all.

A stream of water hit me, and I blinked to clear my vision, soaking wet in a matter of moments.

If Luz was aware of my presence, he didn’t show it, but he seemed to relax a little.

I stood behind him and poured some shower gel onto a sponge.

“Vanilla,” Luz murmured as I washed his back.

It was covered with bruises, including a nasty contusion on his ribs that made my stomach churn.

He was thinner than when I last saw him, although his body was nothing if not lean muscle.

When the sponge reached his ass, I cleared my throat in an unspoken question.

“Go ahead,” he said, as I started to wash his ass, trying not to think about it too much. I used the sponge to wash his crack, but I didn’t linger there, mostly because I didn’t want to hurt him in case he was in pain.

“Turn around,” I instructed him when I was done, pouring more shower gel onto the sponge.

He did what I said, but he rested his hand on my chest for balance, looking unsteady. When my hand reached his crotch, he took the sponge from me, avoiding my eyes.

“I’ll do it. I’m usually not one to miss an opportunity when it presents itself, but I don’t want to get hard right now.”

“That’s a mouthful for someone who’s in pain,” I said, blinking in disbelief.

While he washed himself, I shampooed his hair, finding strange pleasure in it. After I rinsed it, I turned off the tap and wrapped the towel around him.

“Wait here,” I said, stepping out of the shower.

I started taking off my wet clothes without turning around to check if he was watching me. Once naked, I wrapped a towel around my hips and headed to the living room. After I came back, dressed in my sweats, he was still just standing there, shivering.

I dried him with a towel before helping him put on my T-shirt and joggers, which were twice his size. After that, I carried him to the bedroom. Lucky for him, I at least had a bed, because it was the only piece of furniture in the room.

“Do you need anything else?” I said, covering him with a blanket. “Are you hungry?”

Luz shook his head, his eyes already closing. “Just don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, sitting down on the floor across from the bed. “You’re safe, okay? Try to relax.”

“You can sleep next to me,” he murmured, sounding tired. “You know I won’t mind.”

“I need to keep an eye on you tonight, and I don’t want to fall asleep, so a floor is a better idea.”

A few minutes passed in silence, and I was sure he’d fallen asleep when I heard him chuckle.

“What is it?” I asked him, wondering what was suddenly so funny.

“Tonight was the best night of my life,” he replied, of all things.

I shook my head in disbelief because… my God! What a crazy thing to say. But it was Luz, so… why was I even surprised?

When his breathing slowed down, I relaxed and grabbed a pillow from the bed.

Then I got ready for a long, fucking night.