November Rain (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

The second they came through the door, Joe pushed Elias against the wall. Joe wished he could say all the stuff batting around in his head, to apologize for what an ass he was being, but all he could do was tangle their tongues together.

Elias responded immediately, going needy and loose like all was forgiven. Right then Joe loved Elias because Joe didn't have to think or talk. He didn't have to work to earn Elias's affection.

Elias wrapped his arms around Joe's shoulders, mouth open and breath sighing. As usual, he frotted into Joe's hip.

“You want to take this to the bed?” Joe needed to be all around Elias, and inside him, to be buried in Elias's sweetness.

“Yeah.” Elias shimmied away from the wall.

After setting his cane aside, Joe stripped as fast as he could. “Take off your clothes, honey.” Joe sat to unbutton Elias's shirt and feel the smooth belly underneath. In a jumbled mess of belt buckles and twisting hips, Elias was climbing over him, smelling like sweet musk and cologne.

Joe's leg hurt, and yeah, other parts of him did too. But fuck it. Joe could make his body function how he wanted for a half an hour.

“God, I needed this.” Joe pulled Elias down.

“I love you,” Elias murmured near Joe's ear.

“Yeah. Me too.” After all that had happened with Dan, Joe didn't even know what
I love you
meant anymore. Did it mean the kind of commitment he'd thought he made to Dan? The type of friendship that would keep you with a guy though he was on the Internet every night looking for someone else? Or was it how he felt right now, with living flesh in his hand, Elias's erection poking him in his belly?

“Oh God.” Still in his underwear, Elias straddled Joe. He ground his ass against Joe's cock.

“Damn, honey.” Joe grabbed Elias's hips and worked them harder. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Would you let me?”

Elias slowed, his torso suspended over Joe's. “You want that?”

“Yeah, I want it.” Joe rolled Elias to the side and spooned behind him. His thigh protested when Joe shoved his hips forward, but he figured any bits of pain would be drowned out soon enough. “And I think you want it too.” Joe reached down, feeling the hard length of Elias against his forearm.

“I…I suppose we could. But what about your leg?”

Joe bit back his annoyance. He was sick of being injured and sick of people thinking he wasn't well enough to do the things he wanted. Roughly, he pulled Elias's underwear out of the way. Then Joe pushed his sore thigh between Elias's.

“Mmm…” Joe hummed in Elias's ear, palming him boldly and fully.

“Wait.” Elias caught Joe's hand. “Too fast.” The sinewy movement of his spine settled him deeper into Joe's arms. “Don't end it.”

Joe nodded against Elias's back. The skin there was sweet-smelling and perfect. The nightstand was right behind him, so Joe reached for lube and a condom.

“Now, I'm gonna be real careful not to hurt you, okay? But you're gonna have to relax.”

Elias went liquid in his arms. So much so that when Joe touched Elias's crease, his rim was supple.

He whimpered but didn't tense while Joe fingered and stretched him. Joe didn't go overboard on the prep, though. He'd learned in his time with Elias that the kid was a lot tougher than he seemed.

“You ready?” Joe suited up and pressed his cockhead to Elias's opening.

“Yes.” Elias's breath came fast, but he couldn't have been more relaxed if he were made of water. He sighed into Joe's first thrust, pressing backwards and arching his head onto Joe's shoulder.

“God, baby.” Joe held as still as he could, reconciling the tight, hot pressure around his cock with the languid man in his arms. He wasn't all the way in yet, but he waited for Elias to give some signal he was ready for more.

“Mmm…” Elias pulled Joe's hand to his groin, and Joe was glad to find Elias's cock hard. Used to guys who were more vocal about what they wanted, Joe wasn't sure he'd be able to tell otherwise whether Elias was enjoying himself.

“So good, hon.” He tucked his hips back, surprised when the effort felt like a stab at the site of his healed wound. Thrusting forward felt fine, and Joe went deeper this time, all the way to the hilt. He breathed just as fast as Elias.

Pulling back stung the second time too, so Joe experimented with rolling his hips, then stuttering his movements by bouncing the bed. No matter what he tried, his thigh muscle kept cramping. As nice as it felt to be inside Elias, Joe's erection flagged.

“Am…?” Elias twisted his neck to look at Joe. “Am I doing something wrong?”

That quiet voice and the embarrassment in Elias's eyes were too much. They dug under Joe's skin, and his erection withered to nothing.

“No. You're fine.” Joe held the condom and pulled out. His leg screamed like he'd punched his healing wound.

Joe stared at his ceiling as the lights from cars outside flashed in the corner, then faded across the room. He was a complete asshole because he should have told Elias not to worry—that it wasn't Elias's fault and he'd done great his first time.

Instead, Joe wished someone would put a gun to his head.

“Um…I should go wash.” Elias folded up from the bed, grabbing his clothes. His nervous eyes and jerky movements made Joe feel like something disgusting. He couldn't get his partner off, couldn't even get himself off. Joe was a waste of a life, and no wonder Dan had left him.

The shower started in his bathroom, and Joe clambered out of his bed. He may as well head to the kitchen to toss the condom and wash off. He just wished like hell he didn't have to use his cane to get there.

When Elias shut off the water, the apartment outside was eerily silent. So much so he wondered if Joe had left. Elias toweled off, trying to shore up his courage. He had to talk to Joe, make sure they were still okay. Elias had never expected the first time he made love that way to be amazing, but… Well, he knew Joe hated to fail.

After pulling on his briefs and undershirt, Elias opened the door and stepped into the bright apartment. The living room smelled like some kind of microwaved Italian food. Joe came around the edge of the wall, holding a small tray and a couple forks.

“You want plates? Or should we just eat out of the container?” His voice was gruff, his eyes downcast.

“Joe, can you tell me what's happening?” Elias's heart ached.

“Listen…” He put down the lasagna on the coffee table. “I'm usually a hell of a lot better lay.”

Elias closed his eyes, his throat closing up from emotion. “I don't care about the sex.” He wished he could set his feelings aside. Scoop them out and leave them elsewhere so he and Joe could speak like friends. “I know your leg is still—”

“My leg is fine. I just should have taken some pain pills beforehand.” Joe rubbed his face, but his hand couldn't hide his frown. “And maybe
I
care about sex. It's been weeks already. I do like fucking, y'know.”

Elias felt like he'd swallowed burning coals. He was trying to be so open with Joe, to do things outside his comfort zone. “Well, I'm tired of you using your injury as an excuse to be like this.” Elias couldn't speak without his voice breaking. He certainly couldn't come up with anything to say that wouldn't tear them apart. “I'm a person. You know that, Joe? Not a mouth or a body.” A tear fell down his cheek, and Elias didn't bother wiping it away.

His phone buzzed in his bag, and Elias tried to ignore it. He felt like he had more to say, though he couldn't imagine what that might be. Elias couldn't even force himself to look in Joe's direction.

The phone buzzed in his bag again.

“Someone's texting you.” Joe bit the edge of a fingernail. Angry? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Maybe he was sorry, but Elias knew he'd never hear that word.

“Fine.” Elias went to his phone and checked to see who'd called. Four messages filled his screen, all from Solomon.

Elias, please call. Sara is sick.

We are going to the hospital.

Please come later, if you can.

Text me as soon as you get this.

Elias wanted to cut himself down the middle and send part to Sara and leave the other part here, bleeding with Joe.

“Bad news?” Joe's voice would have been soothing if they hadn't just fought.

“Yeah. I have to go.” Elias could tell Joe about Solomon and Sara, about his life and everything he dealt with when he wasn't in this apartment, but Joe wouldn't understand.

“Okay.” Joe's clipped tone held back a hundred words, or maybe none at all.

Elias climbed into his clothes. He wondered if this was the end. Certainly Elias was done pressing forward—chasing Joe when all he did was pull farther and farther away. For all Elias cared, Joe could find someone else to abuse.

It was only when he stepped into the hallway and smelled the air ripe with mildew that Elias was able to gasp out a sob.

He closed the door behind him, shutting out the light from Joe's apartment. Elias leaned against the wall outside. Some part of him wanted Joe to follow him out, to beg forgiveness and to admit he was being cruel. But Elias knew Joe would never do that. Maybe Elias had asked for this. Asked to be treated like yet another barrier to conquer.

Finally, he wiped a hand across his face. Elias lifted his chin and straightened his spine. Whatever his brother was going through must have been a big deal if he was asking for Elias's help.

Palming his phone, Elias texted Solomon.
Tell me where you are. I'll be right there.

Chapter Fourteen

Elias searched the hospital until he found Sara's room where Solomon stood outside.

He stared at Elias with bloodshot eyes. Without a word, Solomon reached for Elias and dragged him into a hug. Forehead on Elias's shoulder, Solomon took a few heavy breaths.

“The doctors are in with her now. She's…” He pulled away, gasping with his effort to hold himself together. “She can't stay awake. She took something.” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes, and Elias remained quiet to let his brother get out the words. “They think it was sleeping pills. Over the counter, but…” Solomon turned away. Maybe to hide Sara's shame. Or maybe to mask his own.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“They're hoping she'll be fine once the drugs are out of her system. They pumped her stomach when we arrived, but they're waiting for her blood tests to come back.” Solomon fisted his hand against the wall. “They're inside talking to her with an interpreter because they wanted to question her without me in the room.”

Elias shivered. Yes, he understood that the hospital would need to check that no one had encouraged or forced Sara to take the pills. Still, it hurt to think of anyone suspecting his brother. The only thing Solomon might be guilty of is not pushing his wife hard enough to seek help.

The door to the room opened, and three women walked out. They all wore scrubs, so Elias wasn't sure which were doctors and which nurses. The oldest, a woman with dark hair streaked through with gray, turned to Solomon, her face stern. “She's stable, just drowsy. We don't think she needs any further treatment, but we will keep her for observation.”

Solomon pressed his lips together. “Thank you.”

“Can we go inside and see her?” Elias wanted more than ever to grab Sara, maybe shake her. Drag her out of her depression kicking and screaming if necessary.

“Yes. Though she's drifting in and out. I've assigned a caseworker to follow up, but she won't come until tomorrow.”

Solomon's face seemed to lose color. “A caseworker?”

“Yes, it's standard in situations of attempted suicide.”

There was that word—suicide. Elias had hoped the doctor wouldn't be so blunt. For Solomon's sake, he would have liked the doctor to explain it away, claiming Sara had perhaps taken the drugs by accident or because she couldn't read the directions.

Deep inside, Elias knew the truth. Sara's inability to read English might have been the only thing to keep her alive. If she'd realized how low the dosage was, she might have taken more.

Joe should have called.

At the very least, he should have texted and asked Elias to come back. Maybe the right thing to do would have been to follow Elias into the hallway, offer to go with him. But as Joe punched his pillow, wishing he could wring another half hour of sleep out of the night, he had to face facts—he'd screwed up royally.

When he couldn't lie still with his guilt and his aching leg anymore, he pushed up to standing. His phone sat on his nightstand in a silent testament to what an asshole he was.

He picked it up but wasn't surprised there weren't any messages. Quickly, before he could lose his nerve, he typed in a text to Elias.

Hope your emergency last night wasn't too bad. Call me.

Even reading that made Joe feel like a wimp.

He hit delete, and then thumbed in something else, something that would brush under the rug the fight they'd gotten into.

What was up with the emergency last night? Everything okay?
That sounded better. Less whiny at least. Joe hit send before he could over-think it.

After making his way to the bathroom, he twisted the handle on the tub's faucet. He still didn't trust his leg to stand in the shower, but he figured he could manage a bath. Filling the ancient tub took a while, but when he climbed inside, relaxation washed over him so fast it was like a high-speed massage.

His gym didn't have a pool, but Joe wondered if he could join a YMCA. He hadn't considered swimming as an exercise option, but now as he felt the buoyancy of the tub, he realized it might be his best bet if he wanted to maintain muscle mass while he was in recovery.

His phone buzzed in the next room, and Joe wished he'd thought to bring it into the bathroom. He pushed out of the tub as best he could with only his arms and one good leg, and grabbed his cane to get to the living room.

He'd only had time to notice a text from Elias saying,
I need to talk to you
, when the phone rang in his hand.

“Yeah?” Joe used his cop voice. He couldn't help it. If Elias was going to lay into him about the night before, Joe didn't know if he could handle it soaking wet and naked.

“Joe?” Elias's tone was shaky.

“Yeah? You okay?”

“Yes. Well, no…”

Joe tensed.

“It's my brother. And his wife. She's…” Elias breathed heavily like he was walking. “What do you know about case workers?”

“A lot, actually.” Joe's job required extensive interaction with social services, though a lot of the time Wade handled the mental health side. “Why?”

“Well, something happened with my brother's wife last night.” Elias sounded like he was reluctant to explain fully. “And the doctor assigned a case worker to talk to her and my brother.”

Joe imagined Elias's forehead creased, Elias chewing his lip. He was scared and needed help, and it made Joe want to go to Elias and figure things out for him.

Joe especially wanted to protect him from a system that would no doubt look at Elias's family more critically for their race and ethnicity. There was no way to avoid that. People, even social workers, were more suspicious of what they didn't understand.

“Do you want me to come down? Be with you when you meet with the guy?”
Please say yes.
Joe was desperate to be useful.

“If it wouldn't be too much trouble.” Elias sounded reluctant, and Joe could understand why. “It's no problem. When's the meeting?”

“Nine a.m. I know you have physical therapy—”

“Don't worry about it, that's not until ten. And I can call and see if I can come in later.” Joe had all day free. No need to rush for more torture.

“We're at Harborview.” He gave Joe directions to check-in. “And, well, I'm with my family, so…”

With a frown, Joe understood what Elias was trying to say. Joe couldn't act like his boyfriend. That was okay. After last night, he didn't know if Elias wanted him as a boyfriend anymore.

That thought cut deep, sending a jolt of pain to Joe's chest and even his leg. “It's cool. I know.”

“Thank you.” Elias hung up the phone.

Joe toweled off and dressed. He still wasn't up to driving, but he caught a bus easily enough and got to Harborview twenty minutes before Elias's meeting.

They had a coffee stand in the lobby where he grabbed some tea and a breakfast sandwich. On the way upstairs, he ate, but as the elevator dinged on the fifth floor, Joe's stomach clenched at the thought of meeting Elias's family.

Maybe Elias's brother was in the wrong somehow. Plenty of men who seemed nice enough on the surface secretly beat their wives. Joe wished the cultural element didn't play into his suspicions, but after all, Joe was a cop. He profiled people all the time. Statistics were statistics, and a culture that didn't accept gays might not respect women either.

His paper cup felt warm in his hand, and suddenly it occurred to Joe he should have gotten Elias some tea. Damn, Joe was a selfish asshole. He needed to work on that.

The door was ajar, and Joe pushed it open. “Hello?” Three people were inside: Elias, a man who looked older than him but otherwise very similar, and a thin woman wearing a headscarf in the bed.

“Hi, Joe.” Elias walked to where Joe was standing at the door. “Thank you for coming.” His face was haggard like he hadn't slept.

Joe wanted to pull him into a hug but figured it was best to hold back. “No problem. I had to come this way for PT anyway.” He tried to convey with his eyes how shitty he felt about the night before.

“This is Solomon, my brother.” Elias stepped slightly to the side.

“Nice to meet you.” Joe reached out a hand, as did Solomon. At the very last minute, Joe remembered to shake softly—the way he'd seen Elias do at Nordstrom, and again at Dan's wedding. That must have been the right choice, because Solomon's expression relaxed. Joe wouldn't go so far as to say he looked calm, but at least he wasn't eyeing Joe like the enemy anymore.

“This is Sara.” Solomon extended a hand to the woman in the bed. Dark circles hung under her eyes, as if perhaps she'd been crying, or maybe she hadn't eaten or drank enough recently.

“Nice to meet you, Sara.” Joe waved but opted not to try and shake her hand. For one thing, she had a pulse ox attached to one finger and an IV in the opposite arm, but also, he got the sense she didn't want to touch a stranger.

Sara glanced to her husband, who in turn rumbled something in a language Joe didn't understand.

“Sara's English isn't very good,” Elias said from behind Joe.

Though Sara looked up at the sound of her name, it was clear she didn't understand Elias's words.

The picture of the situation crystallized in Joe's mind—in particular, the concerns a social worker might have about Sara's well-being. Plenty of people in the US spoke little to no English, but those same folks were at tremendous risk for being exploited.

“Can I talk to you?” Joe turned to Elias, laying a hand on his arm but only briefly. Elias was cold under his short sleeve. Joe thought about bringing Elias a sweater.

“Yes.”

As soon as they got into the hallway, Joe rounded on Elias. “Do they know I'm a cop?”

Elias nodded.

“And how do they think you know me?” With only five minutes until their meeting, Joe had to gather as much information as possible.

“I told him I met you at work.”

Though it wasn't a lie, Joe wondered how much of Elias's story Solomon believed. That didn't seem to matter at the moment, though. Solomon probably didn't care who Joe was so long as he helped them avoid a long inquiry by social services or a possible deportation.

“Fair enough. So what happened?” Joe tried to keep his face neutral, not accusatory. But he couldn't help letting his suspicions seep out. “Was Sara injured?”

“She took some pills.” Elias looked at the floor, his voice quiet. “The doctor said…” He took a breath to calm himself. “The doctor called it attempted suicide.”

Once again, Joe wanted to touch him, but didn't. Joe's compassion warred with frustration. In his job, Joe dealt with mental illness all the time. How could Elias not have admitted his sister-in-law was depressed?

Then again, Joe had never really asked, had he? After the wedding when he'd felt so awkward and suspicious, Joe'd never again probed into Elias's life.

“And was it a suicide attempt? Or did she take the medicine for some other reason?” Perhaps Sara had mistaken the pills for a different kind of medication. Or worse, perhaps someone—most likely her husband—had forced them on her.

“She took them on her own.” When Elias lifted his chin, he revealed a face covered in tears. “I told her to go to the doctor. That there was medicine she could take so she wouldn't be so unhappy.” Elias crossed his arms, as if he'd said too much. “She could have talked to someone, but she never wanted me to tell Solomon when she was crying.”

Joe nodded. “Was she unhappy with him? Your brother?”

He couldn't imagine anyone being content in a marriage that was arranged, but he tried to be open-minded.

“Solomon is a good husband. He works hard to make her happy.” Elias shrugged. “My parents and most of their friends got married the same way.”

A middle-aged woman with a clipboard marched down the hall in their direction, so Joe gripped Elias's arm to get him to stop talking. No doubt the social worker would want to hear the story from Sara and no one else.

“Hello.” The woman held out a hand. Her manner was businesslike to the point of being aggressive. “I take it you're family of the patient.” She addressed her question to Elias, which Joe assumed made sense but still irked him. “I'll need to talk to the patient alone. Is there anyone else in the room?”

Elias's skin faded to a paler shade than normal. “My brother. Sara's husband.”

The woman nodded. “He'll have to leave.”

Joe noticed Elias tensing and opening his mouth to argue, but Joe touched his arm. “Sara's English is very poor. Are you planning to bring in a translator?”

The woman cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, I'm fluent in Arabic.”

“Um…” Elias wove his fingers together in front of him. “She doesn't speak Arabic. It's
Amharic
.”

She blinked at him twice, then, with an eye roll, checked her chart. “For the love of…” She shuffled her papers and shoved them at Elias. “Can you spell that?” She looked down the corridors. “Does Harborview have someone on staff?”

Elias shrugged like he felt guilty for inconveniencing her. “I think the one who helped the doctors last night went home.”

Joe wished he could hug the guy. God only knew how long it would take social services to track down the right person. Elias and his family might end up at the hospital all day.

The woman strode off to call her superiors, leaving Joe and Elias standing in the hallway. “Hey.” Joe squeezed Elias's hand. “You okay? You look tired as hell. Did you sleep last night?”

Elias pulled his hand out of Joe's, but whether it was because Elias didn't want to seem gay at the hospital or whether he was still angry, Joe didn't know.

“I've been here since I left your house.” Elias rubbed his face, over the thin hint of stubble on his top lip and the sparse hair on his chin.