Page 60

Chapter 18

M arc blinked into the darkness of his bedroom and wondered if Royce had strapped him to his bed—and why he didn’t remember that fun time. Then he smiled, because the warmth of the heavy arm and leg over him, not to mention the whole body plastered to his back, reminded him that Royce had never moved to the chaise. Marc had wondered if he would go back, had dreaded it, but his hope that he wouldn’t had been so all-encompassing, it had made his lungs feel full of heavy, scratchy cotton.

They’d been too tired to do more than fall into bed when they arrived. Royce hadn’t even hesitated to pull Marc half-under him before he’d drifted off. And Marc’s hope had lightened, spread out, blossoming into a soft feeling of belonging Marc would do anything to keep.

He knew himself, knew he was completely attached to Royce.

Falling hard for the man.

With that kind of attachment, came deep fear. He couldn’t quite push it to the side either because it was too strong. Like a premonition, hovering to keep him on his toes.

He thought of the painting, explored his innermost feelings, and realized he felt no guilt for what they’d done. He was just happy he’d had a way to help Royce get his mother back. Plus, he couldn’t wait to hear about its return to the museum on the news.

So, this lingering bad feeling had everything to do with his relationship with Royce.

When they’d left Tuscany, the adrenaline rush had stayed with them on most of the plane ride home. Royce had found plenty for them to do.

He shivered with the memory, then remembered Royce’s face after calling his uncle. He had set the meeting up for the morning. Marc glanced at the clock beside the bed—three a.m. So, five hours away. He twisted slowly—just enough to look at Royce, who was still asleep. This was the only time the man’s features completely loosened up. Even when relaxing, faint lines showed between his eyebrows.

Royce carried a lot of pain from losing half his family, then later, his boyfriend. But Marc couldn’t help but feel there was more to the story because so much guilt came through the man as well. That could be from his ties to a crime family, but no, there was more. And he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about Royce Karras.

He wanted to see the man happy.

Marc leaned closer and inhaled, loving the scent of his shower gel on him. He wanted to scoot closer and rub his cheek on Royce’s beard. He’d developed a real kink for the thing. He still felt a little burn on his inner thighs and spine.

Now he just wanted to wake him for sex.

Royce’s arm and leg tightened, pulling him closer. Closing his eyes, Marc basked in the furnace he’d been pulled into. The temperature must have dropped after they’d fallen asleep, and the room was cold. One of those freak, late spring temperature drops. Great .

He turned back over and started to crawl out from under Royce to turn on the heat, but the man only held him closer. “Stop squirming,” he rumbled into Marc’s ear. “You’re so warm.”

“Me? You’re the one generating all the heat in this room.”

Royce rocked his hips, rubbing his hard dick against Marc’s ass. “Mmmm…” he groaned.

“Something woke me.” Marc tried to lift his head, then laughed when Royce grabbed on to his ear with his teeth. “Ouch, fucker.”

“Stay still and I’ll show you fucker.”

That sleep-grumbly voice did all sorts of wicked things to his insides. Marc happily accepted that offer only to go still for real when his phone rang. He blinked at the clock next to his bed again. “That’s probably what woke me. It’s the middle of the night. It has to be important.”

Royce stiffened. “Is it mine?”

“No.”

Royce lifted his arm, and Marc grabbed the phone and snuggled back against him with the covers pulled up to his chin. “One of us is going to have to brave the room to turn on the heat, and only one of us is here to protect me.”

“Ah, I see how it is now.” Chuckling, Royce gave him a hard kiss on the jaw. “Answer the damn phone.” He slid out of the bed and hurried naked across the room, his round ass the only thing Marc could see then.

With that view, he didn’t even bother looking at the phone before answering it. “Hello?”

“I need to speak to you.”

He sat up at the whispered, broken voice he easily recognized. “Richard? What’s going on?”

“Not on the phone. I’m at the hospital. Can you come now?”

“Of course!” He scrambled out of the bed and grimaced at the cold. Hurrying to his dresser, he pulled out a pair of jeans. “Which one?”

“UC and don’t tell Gabe and Lilah.” Richard gave him the room number and hung up.

Always the asshole. Shaking his head, Marc pulled out another cashmere sweater. He loved the things, and he’d noticed that Royce touched him often when he was wearing them. He thought his own tactile senses were strong, but Royce possibly had him beat.

Or…he just couldn’t keep his hands off Marc. He was okay with that possibility.

Worry over his brother edged into his mind. Marc would not have been the first person Richard called in the past. If he’d even called at all. Out of all his siblings, Richard seemed to have the hardest time with him. Especially his sexuality. So why had he called only him?

“Where are we going?” Royce had already started pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt.

“My brother, Richard, is at UC hospital.” He watched Royce frown as he dug around in his bag. He pulled out one sock and frowned harder.

Marc tossed him a pair of his own, knowing the man needed to do laundry.

Royce smiled his thanks and sat on the chaise to put on the socks. “It could be a trick.”

“It could. Guess it’s a good thing I have my bodyguard with me.”

The corner of Royce’s mouth turned up in a half smile, and he pulled out his phone to text the person on night duty at Ward. Marc had noticed they had a pretty tight system. Royce had even sent periodic text messages while they’d been in Italy.

By the time they got to the hospital, Marc was a ball of nerves. Hospitals at night always made Marc feel like he’d crossed into another dimension. The quiet sounds and clinical smells never let a person forget that sick people rested behind all the closed doors, and passing between them felt surreal. Like a macabre version of the Virginia Reel.

Walking into his brother’s room didn’t make him feel any better. Richard lay in the bed, pale, eyes trained on the door like he’d known Marc was about to come through.

He smiled when he saw Marc, but that smile slid off his face at the sight of Royce.

“You two joined at the hip or something?” he asked, his voice sounding like it had been run through a shredder.

“You look like shit,” Marc said, ignoring the question. There were so many wires connected to his brother, it looked like a snarled nest of thin snakes draped over his hospital gown. Richard’s blanket had slipped mostly off the bed, so Marc lifted it back over him. He looked at the different machines, recognizing what was going on. “Your heart?” he whispered as his own skipped a beat. They had the same heart issues. “You’ve been taking the meds?”

Richard nodded. “Always. This was something different. Potassium. Somehow, my system is full of it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “But I have an idea.”

“Does it have something to do with why you said not to talk to Gabriel and Lilah?”

Richard slowly pointed at Royce. “He needs to leave the room, Marc.”

Marc shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. He looked at Royce to find the fierce scowl back on his face. He imagined that expression ran a lot of people off, but not him. Not even in the beginning. He walked into the hall and Royce followed.

“There is no fucking way I’m leaving you alone in the room with him,” Royce said under his breath, running a hand through his thick black hair, making it messier than it already had been.

“What’s he going to do? He’s pretty much tied up with all those monitors on him. He can barely move.”

“I’m aware, but I don’t trust him. Remember, I’m only around because one of them is trying to hurt you.”

The shock of pain that sliced through Marc with those words was so sharp, he couldn’t believe he managed to keep his expression the same. It took him several moments to get enough air to speak, though. “Fine then. Stand here with the door open, so you can see into the room.”

He started to move away, but Royce grabbed his arm. He couldn’t look at him, so he merely stood there, staring at the wall.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out, Marc.” He stepped closer. “That’s not the only reason I’m around. Not anymore.”

He looked back into hazel eyes shot through with concern, and what he saw there made him shiver. This time, he couldn’t hide the emotion. He shut his eyes and nodded.

Royce pulled him against the front of his body and wrapped one hard arm around him. He kissed his shoulder, then stuck his nose into the back of Marc’s neck.

It was enough. For now. He patted Royce’s arm and pulled away, his worry for his oldest brother returning as he strode back into the room. Marc dragged a chair close to the bed. “Okay, you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

Richard grimaced, his hand pressing into his stomach. “The nausea is killer,” he muttered before sighing and closing his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was still raspy and low. “I sat down to catch the news after eating tonight and didn’t feel right. I got really nauseated, got sick. Then the pain in my chest was…indescribable. I thought I was having a heart attack, so I came here. I nearly did, Marc. I almost had a fucking heart attack. They did tests and came back with potassium and a lot of it.”

“How could that happen?”

“Someone must have given it to me. The only thing I did tonight was take my usual vitamins and eat the meal my housekeeper left me.”

Marc knew his brother overloaded on vitamins. He’d tried to talk to him before about getting nutrients from food and what too many could do to a person, but as far as he knew, someone would have to take a shitload of potassium to cause this. “Why are we keeping this from Gabriel and Lilah? And what about Elizabeth? Have you at least told your wife?”

“Elizabeth and the kids are in Florida for two weeks. They left four days ago, and I don’t want to upset them.”

“And Gabe and Lilah? Shouldn’t they know?”

Richard was silent a few moments. He glanced at the door, then back at Marc. “I think it was one of them. They’re the only people who have been in my house outside of Marcia, and she has no reason to hurt me. I pay her well.”

“I’ve been in your house.”

“Not recently. And you were out of the country when this happened. What I can’t figure out is why. Neither of them would have a reason to hurt me.” His face went even whiter. “I don’t want to call the police. Not yet. What if it is one of them?”

The pain in Richard’s voice twisted up Marc’s stomach. It was on the tip of his tongue to confess everything—the attempts on his life, the bodyguard. He caught a glimpse of Royce, lurking in the doorway and held his tongue. His reasons weren’t clear, but he just couldn’t bring himself to share his own fears. Not yet. And hadn’t he done the same? Gotten private protection instead of turning in one of his own?

Fuck, none of this made any sense. He was taking care of Lilah, so she’d have no reason to do this and Gabriel…well, he was a busy surgeon with a fabulous, active lifestyle. He saved people’s lives, for fuck’s sake! A part of Marc had honestly suspected it was Richard this whole time, not that he could think of a single motive for his brother’s potential betrayal.

“Oh God, Marc, why would either of them do something like this?” Richard’s rough voice shook.

Marc’s heart ached for his brother. Reaching out, he brushed back some sweat-damp hair from his forehead. “We don’t know anything for sure.”

“I know I’m not always easy to get along with, but I didn’t think either of them actually hated me. You know them better. Do they hate me?”

“I don’t think they hate you.” Marc closed his eyes and clenched his hands in his lap as he pressed on, saying the same things he’d told himself more than a month ago. “We need more information first. This could be something completely different.”

Shuffling footsteps brought his attention to the door as a nurse came in and frowned at them. “You shouldn’t be here right now.”

Marc nodded and stood. He put his hand on Richard’s arm. “I’ll be back during visiting hours today. When they let you out of here, I’ll take you to my place. We’ll figure this out.”

Richard just nodded, his eyes closing.

Marc and Royce left the hospital, and when he stepped outside, his first breath of fresh air made his head spin. He reached out to brace himself against the wall.

“Hey,” Royce said softly, pulling him into his arms. “What did he say?”

“He thinks either Gabriel or Lilah tried to kill him. He’s devastated and confused. Terrified.” Marc leaned down and buried his face in Royce’s neck as one small bit of relief spread through him. “It’s not him. He’s not the one who’s trying to hurt me. Somehow, he got a potassium overdose. Caused him to nearly have a heart attack. Like me…he’s like me. We both have arrhythmias.”

He felt Royce stiffen against him and frowned. He pulled back to look at Royce and caught the flare of panic in his eyes. “I’m okay with the medication. I told you that.”

But Royce stepped away and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call this new information in, so Quinn and Gidget can turn their focus onto Lilah and Gabriel. Because it’s the middle of the night, I don’t think anyone will notice if I drop you off at Geoffrey’s. You’ll be safe there with Sven while I meet my uncle.”

Marc knew better than to argue this one. “Will you at least take backup?”

Royce stared at him. “I’ll let Quinn know where I am. Good enough?”

“Not really,” he muttered as he started walking toward the car. “And with Geoffrey? We’re just gonna show up? You don’t know him very well, do you? He sleeps late. He’s not even coherent in the mornings.”

Royce frowned. “How do you know that?”

Marc stopped walking and cracked up. “Starting to wonder just how many of your friends I’ve slept with?”

“It’s none of my business.” He said it, but his scowl grew darker.

“Because I’m sleeping with you right now, I beg to differ. It is your business.”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “I could stand to hear you begging.”

The fucking heat that raced through Marc made him dizzy. “Shit, Royce.” He shook his head. “Just so you know, I’ve never been with Geoffrey. He’s just a good friend. I know how he is in the morning because I delivered one of his paintings myself and caught his morning zombie shuffle routine. It’s pretty funny actually.”

Royce slung an arm around his waist and led him toward the parking lot. “I’ll make you beg later. Then this should be a lot of fun.”

“What the fuck, Roycehole?”

Royce snorted at the disheveled blond glaring at him from his doorway. His hair, completely flattened on one side, stood straight up on top, and he had a crease across his cheek. He did look good in nothing but gray sleep pants with his toned body. He seemed so slender in clothes, Royce had been surprised to see how hard the man worked out when he’d taken shifts protecting him recently. Geoffrey yawned and leaned against the open door, nearly taking a header as it swung open more. He was caught by his boyfriend, who settled Geoffrey on his feet, a frown of concern twisting his lips as he stared at Royce.

“What’s wrong?” Sven asked.

“It’s five-thirty in the morning, that’s what’s wrong,” Geoffrey mumbled. He scratched his chest over a fresh-looking hickey.

“Go back to bed, Geoffrey,” Sven said, kissing the top of his head. “I got this.”

“You don’t even know what this is yet.” Geoffrey crossed his arms. “There are plenty of other coworkers you could have picked, Roycehole. Several I know who get up with the birds.”

Royce merely winked at him, chuckling when Geoffrey hissed at him. “Can Marc stay here with you two this morning?”

Sven narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going?” His gaze moved to Marc. “And why does he look so worried?”

“Personal business,” Royce answered. “I just need to leave Marc with you for a few hours.”

“I feel like a fucking child being dropped off at his babysitter’s.” Marc’s shoulders slumped, and Royce rubbed his back. The man kept wearing these ridiculously soft sweaters Royce couldn’t resist.

Yeah , he told himself. It’s the sweaters.

Geoffrey nodded. “You should feel like that. Sven’s a good babysitter. Want coffee? I want coffee.” He patted Sven’s belly, kissed him right over a nipple, and shuffled off. “Come on, Marc. Roycehole won’t talk with us standing there.”

“I really hate that name,” Royce muttered as Marc followed Geoffrey with one last worried look over his shoulder. He knew Marc wanted to go with him badly, but there was no way on Earth he was letting the man anywhere near his uncle.

“Don’t blame you.” Sven, also in sleep pants and no shirt, held out one big, beefy arm. “Come on. We’ll talk in the guest room.”

Royce followed Sven into the room but shook his head no when offered a seat on the bed. “Like I said, it’s some personal business, and I didn’t want to leave Marc alone. We just left the hospital. His older brother was poisoned.”

“Sounds like the police need to be brought in.”

Royce nodded. “I think so, too, but they’re both pretty devastated by the thought of family doing this. Either way, they’re going to have to confront them at this point.” He smirked at Sven. “I should make you come as backup with that sister of theirs. She’s something else.”

“Think she’s the guilty one?”

“My gut is telling me no. She has trouble with Marc’s sexuality, but you can tell she loves him and is trying. I can’t get a read at all on Gabriel. Talk about remote.”

“You should easily recognize remote.” Sven stared at him. “What’s with the personal bullshit? We’re friends, and I’ve worked with you long enough to know when something is upsetting you. Is it Marc? Do you want Rowe to put someone else on him?”

The image of someone else on Marc made him see red. “Fuck, no.”

Sven ran a hand over his blond beard, his stare piercing. Then he grinned. “Recognize jealousy when I see it. Really? You? I seem to remember getting a hard time over Geoffrey. From you , especially. Sleeping with the client, Royce?”

“It’s not like that.”

“It never is.” He crossed his arms, causing the insane amount of muscles there to bulge. “You’re not going to crack on this one, are you? The personal business?”

Royce shook his head. “This is my own mess, and I’m going to get myself out of it. I just need to know that Marc is safe in the meantime.”

“Of course he is. That is, if he survives whatever Geoffrey uses to make the coffee. He’s pretty much useless this early.” His smile showed blinding white teeth and even more blinding fondness.

“You are so fucking whipped, Sven.”

“And completely happy about it, too,” Sven shot back.

“Then go rescue Marc. And thanks for watching him.” Royce held out his hand and Sven shook it. “I’ll call when I’m on my way back.”

“You’d better.”