Page 5 of Bazooka

A Long Fucking Night/Day

Luz

I was in heaven. Vanilla heaven. Everything around me smelled good… the sheets, the pillow, my clothes. I was somewhere soft and warm. I could feel a strange sense of calm as if I’d finally reached my destination after traveling for too long.

Then, somehow, I found myself back at Pete’s.

The bar was empty, and I wondered where everyone was, including my friends.

I headed outside despite the heavy rain and the thunder rumbling in the distance.

I barely reached the parking lot when someone came up behind me and pulled a plastic bag over my head.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I found myself on the floor, and then the beating began.

And the pain… God, the pain! I opened my mouth to scream for help when I felt something cool on my forehead.

“It’s okay.” The soft voice sounded as if it came from a faraway distance. “You’re safe.”

The cool thing on my forehead kept moving, taking away the heat and the pain. But that voice. I knew that voice. Smooth, sexy, and mostly uninterested in talking to me. Not this time, though. This time, the voice sounded as if it cared.

Where was I? And why was Bazooka here? It was probably one of my wet dreams about him. God, I dreamed of him so often. He fucked me in those dreams six ways from Sunday, but not this time. This dream was different.

“Drink this,” Bazooka said. “It will help with the fever and the pain.”

I felt fingers on my lips, and then… pills? A few sips of water later, I was back on the pillow, back in vanilla land. Back to hurting everywhere. I didn’t want to leave this dream because Bazooka was here, but I felt myself falling… falling… falling into a dark pit.

Then I was back at Pete’s, but this time the bar was crowded.

Too crowded. I tried to jostle my way through the packed room, but the people around me wouldn’t let me pass.

Where were my friends? Suddenly, everyone around me sort of grew, while I turned so small they started to walk over me.

And the pain… the pain was back. I tried to shield myself, but their feet were everywhere.

Then I felt a presence beside me and found myself on the bed. A hand touched mine.

“Shhh… it was only a bad dream.”

“Don’t leave,” I muttered, squeezing that hand as if it were a raft in the middle of the ocean.

“I won’t.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

Then there was only darkness, and I was floating in it.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the ceiling above me.

The darkness was gone, and the space around me was dimly lit as if it were dawning.

I raised my head and looked toward where I assumed was the window, only to see a man standing there and watching me.

A tall, huge, muscular, intimidating-looking man, the kind you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

He had medium-length hair, finger-combed and slicked back, the color of ripe chestnut.

His steely gray eyes were the shade of early morning fog, his eyelashes too long for a man.

A white, long-sleeved Henley hugged a torso the size of Madagascar.

Even a holster with a gun looked good on that massive chest. And those cargo pants… I would trade places with them anytime.

“How are you feeling?” Bazooka asked me while I was still trying to figure out what he was doing here. And where the fuck was I?

“Where am I?” I croaked, rubbing my eyes and regretting it instantly. Even my eyes hurt, but at least I could see properly. Last night, I could barely open them.

“You’re at my place,” Bazooka replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

I could remember some of it. Pete’s. Dotty’s delicious birthday cake. The sneakers that kept hitting my face. The taste of blood in my mouth. I wasn’t in as much pain as yesterday, but I still felt as if a truck had run over me.

“Do you feel any better?” The raspy voice made my heart race for the first time in months.

Was I really at his place?

“Yeah,” I replied, straightening up, only to regret that too. Yup, more pain. “What happened?”

“You didn’t want to go to the hospital, so I brought you here,” Bazooka replied. “John Smith patched you up. The guys from the LD are investigating what happened. More on that later. The most important thing is that you don’t have a fever, and you don’t look like shit anymore.”

I looked around the empty… bedroom?

“Where is your furniture?” I asked him because I couldn’t see any.

“I just got here yesterday. Didn’t have the time.”

Slowly, the events from last night were coming back to me, but in flashes and fragments. Bazooka, sitting on the floor across from me. Bazooka, taking care of me. Bazooka, on the bed with me, holding my hand. Hold up! No way that happened.

“Did you watch over me?” I asked him just to make sure my brain wasn’t fucking with me.

“Mm-hmm.”

Was he teasing me? His hum sounded as if something about my question amused him.

Then, my bladder informed me I had more pressing issues.

I lowered my feet to the floor and stood up, only to end up back on my ass on the bed.

I realized I couldn’t stand on my left foot because my ankle hurt like the devil.

“Whoa,” Bazooka said, walking up to me. “Not so fast. Take your time.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Let me help you. No need to force it while I’m here.”

The scent of vanilla in my nostrils made me gulp, and the strong arm on my body shocked me despite being announced. I would swear that even my dick perked up, which was hilarious considering the pain I was in.

When we reached the bathroom, Bazooka unceremoniously pulled my joggers down my hips. And I had no underwear. Was he looking? I glanced at him, but his back was turned to me.

Oh, well, his loss.

“I hope you can do it by yourself,” Bazooka grumbled when I didn’t do anything. “I’m not holding your dick.”

“That’s okay. I don’t allow that on a first date.”

I was cracking jokes, which meant I was feeling better. He didn’t laugh, but he wanted to. I could feel it.

“We will need your statement,” Bazooka said while I peed. “I’ll drop by Pete’s today and talk with the staff. My guys from the LD worked the crime scene, but it rained last night, so I doubt there was much evidence to collect. Who attacked you?”

“Some homophobic pricks. There were four of them. Rugby players.”

“Did they rape you?”

The blunt question made me flinch.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think I would know if I had a dick rammed in my ass, Bazooka,” I bit out, pulling up my joggers. “I know what that feels like.”

It was a stupid answer, but I wanted him off my back.

He rubbed his forehead as if I’d just given him a headache and pointed toward the sink. After I washed my hands, he carried me to bed.

“I have to go to work, but I’ll come back with lunch,” Bazooka said as I settled back against the pillow. “Do you think you can stay alone for a few hours?”

“Yeah, I’ll just go back to sleep.”

“Good. I’ve memorized my address on your phone in case you need to call an ambulance. I’ll lock the door behind me, but I left the spare key on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay.”

“If you need anything or if you get worse, call me. You have my number.”

I grinned despite the pain. “I always do.”

Bazooka pointed his finger at me in warning.

“Don’t remind me. Your buddy Jordan is in trouble, too, by the way.”

I blinked in disbelief. “You knew it was him all this time? And you didn’t say anything?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “It was more fun this way.”

“Nah,” I disagreed after giving it some thought. “You liked my texts.”

“You’re funny, but not that funny,” Bazooka countered. “I’m off. See you later.”

“I’ll wait for you in your bed.”

Again, he wouldn’t smile, but I was getting to him. I could just feel it. Also, I felt like old Luz again, although I still hurt all over.

When I heard the front door close, my smile fell.

I didn’t like being left alone after last night, but I told myself that I was safe here.

Briefly, I considered snooping around, curious to see what his place looked like, but it hurt to move.

It left me ruminating on how things unfolded, because being here seemed like a dream.

Twenty-four hours ago, I was Bazooka-less, and now I was in his apartment and his bed.

That toothless bastard did me a favor in a way, but I still planned to kill him after I found him.

Still, I had to heal first and get my strength back, which would take some time.

It got me thinking. It got me worried. Baz wouldn’t just throw me out of here, would he?

Nah. But he could find me another place to stay, and someone else to take care of me.

That was unacceptable, and I was ready to break my leg to prevent it from happening.

Also, he was so nice to me I almost felt sorry for being a pain in his ass for all these months.

He saved me. He watched over me. He helped me take a shower. He…

My eyes snapped open at the thought, because…

how the fuck did I not remember this part sooner?

How wasn’t that my first thought after I woke up?

And why couldn’t I remember more than just bits and pieces?

I was in so much pain and high on meds last night, but I could vaguely remember him washing me.

Jesus Christ, his hands were on my ass at one point!

Weren’t they? I wasn’t sure because my memory was fucking with me, but we were in the shower together.

I was sure of it. And he was naked too, wasn’t he?

Everything was a fucking blur, but I could remember a wide back rippling with muscle.

A tight, firm ass, rippling with muscle.

Buns of fucking steel. But nothing more.