George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] (9 page)

He knew that was one lucky-ass strike, to get him in his heart on the first try. It looked like the myth about wooden stakes was inaccurate. Somebody up there was watching out for him.

George pulled to his feet and staggered to the diner. He almost made it to the back door when he fell to his knees, his neck bleeding profusely and his back on fire. He crawled to the door and managed to get in, his vision blurring as he stumbled to the diner phone.

George grabbed a towel, pushing it into his neck to try and staunch the flow of blood, he grabbed the phone and dialed Tank’s cell phone, he was getting light headed fast.

“Hello?”

“H–help—”

“George? George!” Tank yelled on the other end.

George slid to the floor, blackness surrounding him.

* * * *

“I need help. Something happened to my mate,” Tank yelled into the den as he took off toward the front door. He wanted to shift, but what if George needed him to take him to the hospital?

Tank tore from the driveway, gravel spitting out and hitting the other vehicles. He made it to the diner to see his mate’s truck.
Oh god,
there was so much fucking blood
. It was splattered on George’s truck
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and the sidewalk. Tank didn’t think he had ever seen so much in one place in his life. The vampire from the other night was lying on the ground. Tank roared as he picked the body up and slammed it into a tree, watching it fall limply to the ground.

If he hadn’t let the vamp get away, his mate wouldn’t be hurt. Or maybe worse. Tank stormed into the diner, following the path of blood. George was slumped down behind the counter. His neck looked chewed open.
Oh god, no!

He ran to George, pulling him into his arms, Tank howled when his hands felt the sticky blood on his mate’s back. “Somebody help us!” Tank screamed as he rocked a lifeless cowboy in his arms.

“Please, no,” he choked out.

“Let’s go, Tank. We gotta get him to a hospital fast. The Medic Center is close.” Gunnar pulled at Tank’s shoulder. He knew they had precious little time. George would bleed out if they didn’t get him there fast.

“Okay.” Tank wiped his eyes as he carried his mate in his arms, running him out the door and jumping into Gunnar’s SUV. “Hurry. I can’t lose him.” Tank pulled his T-shirt up and wiped his face clean of snot and tears. He stared at the man lying lifeless in his arms.

There’s so much fucking blood.

“We ain’t losing anyone tonight, buddy.” Gunnar floored it, running every stop sign and light. He whipped the truck in front of the Center as Tank jumped out, screaming for someone to help him.

A young doctor raced toward Tank, pulling George from his arms.

Tank fought to keep his mate with him.

“I can’t help him if you don’t give him to me.” The doctor touched Tank’s arm gently.

“Okay, but make him better.” Tank let out a sob as the doctor wheeled him away.

The warriors came running into the Medic Center, surrounding Tank.

“What happened?” Maverick laid his hand on Tank’s shoulder.

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“Fucking vampires. Will he change now? Be one of them?” Tank hadn’t thought of that before, but now it was the only thing on his mind besides his mate pulling through.

“I’m going to call Prince Christian and find out. Hang in there, Tank. He’ll pull through.” Maverick walked out to make his call.

Tank threw his head back and a howl ripped from his chest. It was so thunderous, the nurses ran behind the desk, cowering.

Gunnar grabbed Tank’s arm. “Pull it together. I know you’re hurting, man, but you can’t do that here.”

“Get the hell off of me.” Tank yanked his arm away from Gunnar, slamming the front doors open and walking out into the night.

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Chapter Seven

The mates sat somberly in the den, waiting on word about George.

“I didn’t even get my shootout.” Cecil grinned behind tears.

“He’ll make it. We just broke him in.” Kyoshi patted Cecil’s arm.

“I’ll listen to every damn sappy country song he plays if he pulls through.” Cecil wiped his eyes. He had really taken a liking to the cowboy. The guy was definitely different and fun to be around. Cecil didn’t even want to contemplate the possibility of anything happening to the man.

They all turned their heads when the front door slammed open.

Tank stormed through the house.

If Tank was here, slamming things, did that mean…?

“I need to call Maverick.” Cecil jumped up and ran down the hall to his mate’s office, dialing with unsteady hands.

“Cecil?” Maverick asked when he answered his phone.

“Yeah, how is he? Why is Tank here?”

“We don’t know yet, baby. But I’m glad we know where Tank ran off to. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Thanks.” Cecil felt like crying over not having his mate with him at a time like this. It brought home how easily he could lose him.

“Maverick?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Cecil hung up, relieved that Tank’s appearance didn’t mean George was dead. He made his way back to the other mates, their eyes questioning Cecil.

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“They don’t know yet.”

“I thought…” Drew sobbed.

“Me, too.”

* * * *

Jason looked out of the kitchen window. What the hell was Tank doing? Shouldn’t he be at the hospital? He stepped outside, watching the manic movements Tank was making.

“Want some help?”

Tank looked at him as if he were a ghost. “I…yeah.” The warrior wiped his tears on his shirt and began to clear away the brush.

Whatever he wanted done, Jason would help.

* * * *

George woke up in the hospital, feeling like a bull had kicked him a hundred times. He reached up and felt gauze. There were bandages covering the entire right side of his shoulder and neck. His back hurt like hell, too.

“Hey.”

George looked up to see Tank standing by the window, his eyes misty. Was his big galoot crying? “Hi.” He gulped out his reply. His throat was dry, and all he wanted was for Tank to hold him. “Am I…?”

“Maverick called the Prince of the vampires. You won’t turn. You may become thirstier and crave your meat a little bloodier, but no sucking blood.” Tank walked over and ran his knuckles down the side of George’s face. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” George tried to reach up, but he was connected to too many damn wires. “Get this crap off of me.” He tried to tug the dang thing lose, but it wouldn’t give. There was too much tape holding it down.

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“Can’t. You need it.” Tank stilled George’s flailing arms.

“No, I don’t. Now unhook me, or I’m gonna do it myself.” He pulled the white thingy off of his finger, ready to snatch the IV from his arm. He was determined to get out of the hospital and forget being a victim. It was humiliating lying here with all these tubes sticking out of him. He was fine.

“Stop it. You need it. Do I have to tie you down?” Tank smacked his hand away. “There is a difference between being fine enough to leave and just plain stubbornness, and you’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t be abusing the invalid.” George glared at him. George wasn’t sure what those narrowed eyebrows meant, but he was getting out of here whether Tank wanted him to or not.

“You’re not a damn invalid, just scratched up.” Tank grabbed his wrists, wrestling with him to let go of the tubes. “If you don’t calm down, you’re gonna do even more damage.”

“Dammit, Tank, I feel fine. I got cookin’ to do.” George looked pointedly at his mate. “I can’t just lay here playing sick.” George turned his head, not wanting the invincible Tank to see the pain in his eyes. He had thought he wasn’t going to make it, that he would never see his Tank again, argue with him, make love to him or be made love to. He wasn’t going to say all that out loud. He did have his pride.

“Seriously? You were attacked and bitten by a vampire, left for dead, and all you’re worrying about is food?” Tank rolled his eyes.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Just get me out of here.” George stopped fighting, his eyes pleading with Tank to take him home, take him anywhere else rather than leave him here.

“Why can’t I say no to you? This is against my better judgment, George. You need to stay here and get well.”

“I can get well at home just as well as here.” George grinned. He knew he won this round. Tank may be a big intimidating man to most, but to George, he was a big teddy bear.

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* * * *

Tank cleared his throat. “I’d like for you to move in with me.” He grabbed the chair by the hospital bed and took a seat. A fight was coming. He could feel it in his gut.

George once again struggled to sit up. “I’ll make you a deal. You smuggle me out of here and I’m all yours.” Tank’s brows shot up. Was his cowboy giving in that easily?

George’s head fell back onto his pillow. He was staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “I know I’ve given you a rough time. I never meant to.”

“I kinda understand.” Tank stood and readjusted George’s sheet so it fit snug around his body. He wasn’t sure what to say. Was it his cowboy fighting as he emerged from the closet, or was it his sparkling personality?

“I’ve never been vain, but be honest, how hideous am I now?” Tank sat back, his fingers tense in his lap. He prayed his mate wasn’t going to fall into a depression. “You look like God himself kissed you on the forehead.”

George stared chuckling, his eyes sparkling with laughter. He turned his head and stared at Tank. “Trying to get into my pants?”

“Trying to get into your heart,” Tank teased. He was being serious, but George hadn’t made a declaration yet, so he wasn’t going to put any added pressure on him by saying the L word, not yet at least, but this was close enough.

“So, are you springing me or what?”

Tank shook his head. “You need to get better.” His mate narrowed his eyes at Tank. “If you get me out of here, I’ll forget the scorecard
and
move in with you.” The man knew how to drive a hard bargain. “Let me see what I can do.”

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* * * *

“I can do it,” George snapped as Tank tried to help him into their bed. He had finally talked the stubborn man into moving in with him.

Tank agreed to spring him from the hospital if he did. He wasn’t beyond blackmail if it got his mate in his bed every night. Besides, that tiny apartment felt claustrophobic. George needed room to breathe, room to move that fine ass around.

His neck healed in record time. Prince Christian said it would, and damn if he wasn’t right. It looked like the attack never happened. But Tank liked taking care of him, so George would just have to deal with it.

“I know you can. Just let me take care of you.” Tank tucked him in, sitting down next to him. “You scared me.”

“I’m tougher than that.” His mate scoffed.

“If you’re tougher than that, come here.” Tank pulled him up, walked George backward, and then hit the play button on the CD

player bought just for George and his love of music.

“What are you doing?” George leaned back, his eyes searching.

Tank would never get enough of looking into his baby blues. His mate was a spitfire, but Tank wouldn’t have him any other way.

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Tank grinned as he pulled George into his arms, and the melody began to play.

“That’s Faith Hill’s ‘Beautiful.’” George gulped. “I’m floored that you know any country song, especially one so romantic.” Tank rocked back and forth with his mate in his arms, nuzzling George’s neck. “I love you, George,” Tank whispered into his neck.

He knew he was pushing the boundaries by saying it, but it had slipped out as he thought of how close he was to losing his cowboy.

“I—I.”

“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.” He whirled George around, smiling as his mate laughed out loud. He pulled George back into his arms. “You mean the world to me. Never
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scare me again.” Tank pulled him tight to his chest. The thought of never holding his mate again terrified him. He would hold the beautiful man in his arms forever if he thought the guy wouldn’t curse him out for it.

Tank held him close, running his hands up and down George’s back as the song echoed through the room.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He danced Tank backwards until his legs hit the bed. “Your turn,” George said softly.

Tank growled as he pulled George free of his clothes, stripping his own off in record time.

George dropped to his knees, looking up into Tank’s eyes before he stuck his tongue out and licked the head of his cock.

“George.” Tank moaned.

His mate parted his lips and sucked him in deep, palming Tank’s sac in his hand as he licked the heavy vein that ran under his cock.

Tank ran his fingers through his mate’s hair, encouraging him to take him deeper. George relaxed his throat muscles and took Tank to the base.

“George,” Tank shouted, his hips snapping in an erratic rhythm.

“Close.” His eyes rolled back, the feeling overwhelming him. His body buzzed with excitement, knowing this was
his
George on his knees. No more one night stands, no more empty beds to wake up in.

George owned him heart and soul.

Tank remembered the one-night stand from long ago. It was the night Cecil was kidnapped. The lonely feeling of knowing the guy he had snuck in wasn’t his mate had hit home when the Alpha’s mate had burst into the room. Thank goodness the guy he had brought home had been in the shower when the interruption had occurred.

Tank never had to feel that loneliness again. That ache one got in their chest knowing the person you were with wasn’t your mate and wouldn’t be sticking around.

George pushed Tank onto his back and jumped on him, taking him back into his mouth.