Rough [01] - A Bit of Rough (19 page)

Bram swung up into the driver's seat, slammed the door shut and started the truck. After one look at James' shuddering body, he reached over and gently, but firmly, pulled an unresisting James closer to his own furnace-like body. Next he adjusted the cab heater on full blast.

Throughout it all, Bram was silent, a simmering anger radiating off him. Throwing his arm over the back of the seat, he backed out of the parking area. After putting the truck into drive, he let his arm curl around James' still quaking shoulders and headed south.

***

At the construction lot, Mitch watched the truck's taillights fade into traffic then tossed the cigarette he was smoking to the ground. He glanced up at the two men beside him and tipped his head to one side in thought. "Well, whaddaya know, boys. Looks like the boss got himself a real little spitfire."

The tall, red-haired man to his left snorted. "Got balls, that's for sure. Haven't seen anyone try to shove the boss around in years. Not since that drunk over in Avon last Christmas." Buck smiled at the memory. "Bet that guy's still talking soprano."

Buck ground out the stogy he was dragging on and put the remainder in his pocket.

"Gotta give the little bastard credit, though. The boss usually has to pry his dates off with a crowbar."

The third man, Mike, chuckled, pulling his outer shirt closed against the rising winds.

"Never heard of one of them trying to break up with him before. Gold diggers never want to give up a catch like Abraham Lord."

Mitch stared down the road after his childhood friend. Finally, a smile cracked his bearded, weathered face. "'Bout time the pushy bastard found somebody willing to walk away if the boss wasn't treating him right."

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Grunting, Mitch resettled the hard hat on his head and started walking back to the work site. "That damn dick-loving, thick-headed mountain better not screw it up. Be a fucking shame if he lost this one."

Mitch slapped Buck on the back and stepped into the waiting service elevator. "'Sides, I kinda like the squirt. All those curls and big blue eyes. Looks like one of those poodle things they used to put inside teacups. Ya know?"

Snickering, Buck nodded. "Kinda yips and bites at the boss like one, too."

The three burly men entertained themselves by making high-pitched puppy noises, laughing all the way to the top of the incomplete building.

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Chapter Ten

The drive to the south end of town was quiet with only the droning hum of the tires and the buzz of the cab heater invading the tense mood. Ten miles out Bram turned onto a less traveled, quiet road.

Two miles later, a large institutional building came into view. Just before they turned into the building's driveway, a large sign greeted them. It read 'Dunnhill Rehabilitation and Treatment Center'.

Still under Bram's arm, James was more relaxed, but confused. "What are we doing here?"

"You wanted to know where I was Monday." Bram nodded at the building. "I'm showing you." His grave expression and the sudden sadness in his voice made James tense.

"At a hospital?"

"Yeah. I usually spend every Sunday afternoon here." Bram pulled into the lot and parked the truck. "This past Sunday, I was with you." He stared down at James and his anger drained away. "So, instead, I came on Monday."

Looking from Bram to the hospital and back again, James' forehead wrinkled and he frowned. "Why?"

Briefly caressing the soft flyaway curls at the base of James' neck, Bram climbed out of the truck. He gestured for James to come out his side as well. "Come on, I’ll show you."

Bewildered, James followed, Bram’s flannel shirt engulfing and dwarfing his body, making him look and feel ten years old. He wiped a sleeve over his eyes to erase any dried tears. The lingering scent of the shirt’s owner filled his nostrils, sending a spark of excitement through his senses. James pushed the nerve tingling sensation to the back of his mind and concentrated on the brooding man beside him.

"What’s this got to do with Williams? I don’t understand why we’re at a hospital." An unpleasant thought occurred to James and he panicked. He came to an abrupt halt, frozen in place just outside the front entrance to the hospital and grabbed Bram’s arm, stopping him, as well. "Are you sick? Bram?" His voice was thick with fear. "Are you okay?"

The dark, brooding mood surrounding Bram faded back. His grim expression dissolved, replaced by gentle surprise. He laid a hand over James’ where its white knuckled grip
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held his arm, a pleased, crooked smile on his lips. "Just relax, Jamie. I’m fine." He let the smile spread to his eyes. "But thanks for letting me know you care."

"I
do
care, Bram." Tears leapt to James' eyes again and he blinked furiously to push them back. "More than I probably should, more than I ever have for anyone else." He stepped back and pulled his hand out from under Bram’s. "I just need -- I need to be sure."

Bram stared at James, studying him until the other man squirmed. After a moment, he turned on his heel and started walking again. "Then let’s go." He headed into the hospital and down the hall to a row of elevators.

James followed closely behind, noticing once again how people responded to Bram.

Nurses and technicians greeted Bram by name, several expressing surprise at seeing him again so soon. James was beginning to regret allowing his own insecurities to threaten their relationship.

They took an elevator to the fourth floor and stepped out into the long, gleaming corridor painted a cheerful spring green. As they walked, James distractedly noticed each room was unusually spacious with only one bed in each of them. One had a complex circular frame in the middle of the room in place of a bed.

"I've never heard of this place. What kind of hospital is it?"

Never breaking his stride, Bram talked over his shoulder forcing James to hurry to catch up. "Private rehab, just like the sign out front said." Halfway down the corridor, Bram stopped in front of room 414’s closed door and turned to face James.

"I’d planned on this happening later on, after I knew if we were going to make a go of this thing," he gestured between them with one hand, "this relationship." Bram rested his hand on James’ shoulder and fingered the curls at the base of James’ neck. "But apparently, we need to iron out this trust issue first or we’re not going to make it past today." His fingers curled around James’ neck and gently squeezed, a soft yearning light in his eyes. "And I really want to get
us
past today, Jamie. Together."

An intense, smoldering look came into Bram’s face revealing the possessive, predatory desire, lust and need he felt for James.

James felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry. "I want that, too." He returned the heated stare and leaned into Bram's personal space, savoring the scent of sweat and leather clinging to the big man's work clothes. "More than anything, Bram. I do."

Despite the awkwardness of the present situation, James was flattered and more than little turned-on by the man’s evident passion. He searched Bram’s face for some trace of deception, but found himself pushed close to tears instead. All he could see was genuine love touched with an underlying sadness. James couldn’t be sure whether he was the cause of Bram’s unhappiness or if it was what was behind the door that was affecting
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him. He reached up, gripped Bram’s forearm and squeezed, returning the intimate, affectionate touch.

Bram's gaze darted over James' eyes, cheekbones and down to his mouth before locking back on his eyes. "Okay then."

Bram backed up and pushed open the door to 414 with his hip, slowly drawing James into the room. His deep voice was suddenly soft and low, pitched for a sleeping child's ears. "Jamie, I’d like you to meet Isabel."

Bram slid his arm around James, tucking him in close to his side. James wasn’t sure if it was to keep him from running out or to partially shield him from the sight on the bed.

It was a normal hospital bed, nondescript, made of gray metal and chrome. The siderails were raised on both sides and pale blue cotton fabric over foam padding covered their hard metal bars. On the right side of the bed, a rectangular machine laced with a number of thick cords and wires whooshed and hummed. It pumped heated air down corrugated plastic tubing that ran from the machine and over the rails until it ended at a tube in a hole in the throat of the woman curled up on the bed.

Isabel lay on her right side, arms and legs bent, her ghastly pale, thin limbs cushioned and separated by various blankets and pillows. One thinning, lackluster braid of tarnished gold flowed from her head and down her back, the color the same honey blonde as Bram’s gleaming hair.

James’ gaze was drawn to Isabel’s face. Burnt, twisted scars mutilated her entire left side, including her neck. The burn marks trailed down her shoulders and chest to disappear under the hospital gown in an angry swirl of bluish-purple and deep red flesh.

What James could see of the right side of Isabel’s face showed the remnants of what was once an attractive young woman. Unable to stop a shudder from racing down his spine, James flinched. He jerked his gaze up to Bram’s face, horrified he might have offended the man by his unguarded reaction.

Bram ran a hand soothingly down his arm and pulled him closer. "It’s okay, Jamie. I know seeing her the first time is a shock. Took awhile before I stopped staring, too."

Bram shrugged his shoulders. "Now, I barely notice."

"Jesus, Bram." Suddenly, James thought the situation had just gotten much worse. Who was this woman? What if Bram had brought him here to make a confession? Was Bram bisexual? Was this a past lover, a wife even? Not wanting to know, but desperately needing the answer, James bit his lower lip and tried not to let his voice show how rattled he was. "Who is she?"

"My older sister. My only sister." Taking a deep breath, Bram released James and pulled a chair up to the bedside. He gently picked up Isabel's scarred, misshapen left hand and
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just held it. He ignored the busy sounds from out in the corridor and the hum and occasional chirping from the machines running to and from his sister's thin body, momentarily lost in his own world of sadness and memories.

A concerned female voice suddenly cut through the thick air, startling both men. "Mr.

Lord? Bram? Is everything all right?"

Hand resting on Bram's shoulder to comfort him, James jerked around to see a thirty-something woman dressed in pale blue scrubs hovering at the doorway. Bram looked up and gave her a thin smile. James watched as Bram's natural charm cast its spell and the woman's frown transformed into an attractive smile.

"Megan told me you were back again." She walked farther into the room. "We're used to you visiting on Sundays and now you've been here two weekdays in a row."

The nurse looked James over thoroughly, unspoken questions in her eyes, and a slight frown between her brows. "And you brought company. That's a first." Puzzled, she turned back to Bram. "I thought maybe something was wrong."

Shaking his head, Bram winked at the woman in greeting. "Hi, Jill. No, nothing's wrong."

He reached up and clasped James' hand still on his shoulder. "I had someone important I wanted to introduce to Isabel."

Bram stood up, drawing James around with him as he turned toward Jill. He slung his arm around James and presented him with a shy smile of affection on his face. "This is James." He looked into James' upturned, surprised face and squeezed his neck playfully.

His voice sank an octave lower and his eyes grew serious. "We're seeing each other."

Seeing a smug, knowing grin tug at the corners of the woman's lips, he added, "And yes, he's the reason I didn't get here Sunday."

James blushed and shrugged out of the borrowed oversized shirt to face the woman.

Laughing behind one chapped hand, Jill extended her arm and shook James' hand while still talking to Bram. "I'm glad to hear it. You deserve a personal life. You know what they say about 'all work and no play'." She winked at Bram. "But I don't think you'll have that problem with a cutie like him around."

Rolling his eyes, Bram colored a shade darker under his tan and glared at her. "Jamie, this evil woman is Nurse Jill. Jill's been taking care of Isabel ever since she came here. She's great. She knows us both pretty well."

Jill shrugged off the compliment. "Nice to meet you, James. I am great," she quipped,

"mostly because I know when I'm not needed."

She moved back toward the doorway. "If everything is fine, I'll go tell the rest of the staff. They were concerned at seeing you two days in a row and off schedule."

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She raised her eyebrows and looked James up and down again. "I'll let them know it's a good change for you, Bram. Bye, James." She wiggled her fingers in the air and hurried out the door.

Bram resumed his seat and cautiously took Isabel's hand again. "You have to be careful not to touch her too much or it sets off seizures. Too much stimulation."

James moved to stand beside him, dropping his voice to just above a whisper. "What happened to her?"

It took a moment before Bram answered. "Car accident, ten years ago. A jilted boyfriend named Gram Watts had been bothering her after they broke up."

Bram clenched and unclenched his fists as he pulled up the memories. "Just calling her at first then stopping by the office where she worked. Isabel was a CPA with White and White." Bram reached out and stroked his fingertips gently over the strands of golden hair by her temple. "She was a real whiz with numbers." He smiled his lopsided grin. "I used to tease her about being half calculator."

The smile faded from his lips. "But that’s all gone now." He pulled back and hunched his shoulders, bracing his elbows on his knees. "After they broke up, Isabel refused to talk to Watts, but he kept calling her. Then he started waiting for her after work, just sitting in his car in the street, watching her."