Stormy Glenn - Blaecleah Brothers 06 - Cowboy Convenience (10 page)

“Seamus…”
“He’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“No.” John’s head rolled from side to side. “You tell him…tell him what…what we talked about. Tell…tell him I…”
Yancy’s lips thinned a he pressed them together. He knew what John wanted him to tell Seamus. He wanted to deny the man’s request, but without knowing how John was injured, he didn’t know if this would be the man’s dying request.
And that, he couldn’t ignore.
“I’ll tell him, John.”
John’s head dropped forward.
“John?” Yancy quickly reached out and felt for a pulse. Relief that he didn’t expect to feel flowed through him when he felt a slow but steady beat under John’s skin. Yancy rubbed his hand down over his face, only noticing then that it was shaking.
“How is he?” Rourke asked as he walked back over and stopped on the other side of John.
“He’s out.”
“What happened, Yancy?”
“I’m still trying to work it all out in my head, Rourke. From what John told me, someone’s been leaving messages on his answering machine threatening to hurt him and everyone he cares about— namely Seamus.”
“But why?” Rourke asked. “What do they want?”
“That’s just it, Rourke. They haven’t made a single demand. They just keep threatening him. He thought it was all a joke until the neighbor’s cat showed up on his front porch, and from the look on John’s face when he told me that, it wasn’t pretty.”
“That is really screwed up, man.”
That was the understatement of the fucking century.

Seamus rushed into the hospital emergency room through the sliding glass doors. He hurried up to the nurse’s desk, immediately recognizing the small blond-haired man behind the counter.

“Sammy, Rourke called and said that the sheriff and a man named Yancy Butler had been brought in by ambulance.” Seamus tapped his fingers anxiously on the countertop as he watched Sammy—a guy he went to school with—type something into his computer.

“Yeah, the sheriff is back in exam room three. The doctor is looking at him right now.”
Seamus swallowed hard to clear his throat before asking the one question he wanted to know, the one he needed to know. “He’s alive?”
“Oh, yeah.” Sammy looked slightly confused when he looked up, but there was an edge of amusement in his robin’s-egg-blue eyes. “He was shouting up a storm when the ambulance brought him in. The doctor had to threaten to tranq him if he didn’t calm down.”
“Oh, thank god.” Seamus pressed his hand against his chest, his speeding heart slowing just a little. “And Yancy?”
Sammy typed away for a moment then shook his head. “No, I don’t have him as a patient.”
“Is he…?” Seamus couldn’t even say it.
Sammy grinned as he looked up. “Tall dreamy guy with black hair?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“He came in with the sheriff, but he didn’t need to see the doctor. I saw him myself. He’s got a few scrapes and scratches but nothing major. The nurse is patching him up.”
That was one less worry off Seamus’s mind. “Can I see the sheriff?”
“Uh…”
“Please, Sammy?” He just had to see John, even if it was from a distance. He needed to make sure with his own eyes that the man was alive.
“I’m not really supposed to do this,” Sammy said as he glanced toward the double doors leading into the emergency exam room. “Wait here for a moment while I’ll go check and see if I can sneak you in.”
“Thank you.”
Seamus felt a hand on his shoulder as he watched Sammy walk off. He turned to see Lachlan standing beside him. His brother gave him a worried little smile and squeezed his shoulder.
“He’s going to be fine, Seamus,” Lachlan reassured him. “Rourke said he was alive, just in shock from the car accident. There were no major injuries that he could see.”
“Yeah.” Seamus swallowed again. “That he could see.”
Since the second Rourke had called to say that Yancy and John had been in a car accident, every possible—and horrible—scenario imaginable had run through his head. He didn’t know what had caused the accident, and he didn’t really care. He just needed to see John and Yancy with his own eyes.
Even if he wasn’t currently speaking to either of them.
The anger he had felt when he discovered that Yancy and John were in a fist fight in the yard had been overwhelming. He felt like a bone that two dogs were fighting over, which was odd considering both of them had basically dumped his ass.
Finding out that John and Yancy had been hurt in a car accident changed everything. Seamus swore to himself the entire ride to the hospital that it didn’t matter what he wanted or how he felt.
He would do whatever they wanted—even let them go—if they were both still alive. If he could just see John and Yancy, and assure himself that they were both fine, he would not give in to his overwhelming need to beg.
He would just walk away.
Even now, the promise he had made to himself swirled around in his head, weighing heavily on his mind. It warred with the need to see John and Yancy. After the fight he had witnessed at the ranch, he doubted either of them wanted to see him. He had basically brought them nothing but grief.
When Sammy walked back through the large double doors, Seamus almost tripped over his feet to get to the nurse. He wrung his hands together as he waited for Sammy to either allow him in or deny him access. Seamus wasn’t sure what he was hoping for.
“Okay, I can take you back, but only you,” Sammy said. “And just for a few minutes. The sheriff is resting right now while the doctor waits for his CAT scan results to come back.”
“CAT scan?” Seamus squeaked. “Why did he need a CAT scan?”
“Look,” Sammy said as he glanced around and then leaned in toward Seamus, lowering his voice to a mere whisper. “I’m not supposed to be talking to you about this. Patient information is private.”
“Please, Sammy. I won’t tell anyone. I just need to know if the sheriff is okay.”
“It’s nothing major.” Sammy glanced around again, looking nervous. “The doctor thinks that the sheriff has a concussion from being tossed around the cab of his cruiser during the accident. It’s probably what made him go into shock. The doctor just wants to make sure there is nothing major going on. Other than that, there are no other injuries that concern him.”
“But he has other injuries?”
“Just some scrapes and scratches, which are pretty normal during a car accident. But don’t worry, none of them even needed stitches, just some butterfly bandages.”
“Can I see him then?”
“Yeah, but you have to be quiet. If anyone knew I was sneaking you in back, I could lose my job.”
“I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse. Promise.”
Sammy nodded then turned and led Seamus through the double doors. Once through them, he paused, glancing toward the nurses’ station. Just as quickly, he led Seamus down the wide hallway and around the corner to room number three.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes. If anyone comes in, just tell them you were getting the sheriff’s keys to get him a change of clothes. Everyone knows the sheriff is friends with your family. They’ll buy that.”
Seamus nodded then watched Sammy hurry back around the corner. He drew in a fortifying breath then pushed the door open and stepped inside the room. The soft hum of the overhead lights broke the silence surrounding him.
There was a metallic tang from stainless steel in the air, outweighed only by the overwhelming scent of antiseptic that made Seamus’s nostrils burn. A constant beeping drew Seamus’s eyes to a machine by the head of the bed John lay in. The little red LED lights showed John’s steady heart rate.
Seamus watched it as he stepped forward. When he reached the side of the bed, his eyes moved to the man the machine was attached to. There were several abrasions on John’s face, but Seamus didn’t know if they came from the car accident or from the fight he had been in with Yancy. He was pretty sure the bruising around his eye and his chin came from Yancy.
Seamus ignored the bruises from the fight as he watched John sleep.
Biting his bottom lip, he reached out to touch John, just to assure himself that the man was okay. The soft swoosh of a door opening caught his attention before his hand could connect with John’s arm.
Air caught in Seamus’s lungs when he turned to see Yancy stepping into the room. “Yancy,” he whispered. He quickly scanned the tall man from head to toe, looking for any sign of grave injury.
When he found none, he raised his eyes only to find Yancy watching him so intently that Seamus felt his pulse quicken. It wasn’t a bad assessment but more like Yancy was trying to figure something out. When Yancy’s gaze fell to John, Seamus quickly backed away from the side of the bed, moving his hand behind him.
“Go ahead, honey,” Yancy said in a soft, gentle tone. “I know you need to.”
Seamus hesitated, not quite believing what Yancy was saying. He kept his eyes pinned on Yancy as he moved back to the side of the bed and slowly raised his hand to settle it on John’s arm. The second his fingertips touched warm flesh, a soft cry fell from Seamus’s lips and he turned to look down at John.
He was alive.
He was really alive.
“He’s going to be okay, honey.”
Seamus jumped, realizing that Yancy now stood right behind him. “What happened?” he whispered as he stroked his fingers lightly over John’s skin.
“Oh.” Seamus’s eyes fluttered closed when he felt Yancy’s fingers slide through his hair. “It’s a long story, Seamus. John and I will explain it all to you when we get him home.”
“The doctor is going to let him go home?”
“I think so,” Yancy replied. “We’ll probably have to keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours or so, just to make sure he doesn’t suffer a setback, but I think we’ll be able to take him home with us.”
Seamus gulped. “Us?”
“We have a lot to talk about, Seamus.”
Why didn’t Seamus feel reassured at Yancy’s words? There was something going on that he wasn’t aware of. It was in the set lines around Yancy’s mouth, in the way he kept looking between Seamus and John. The guy was no longer looking at the sheriff with hatefilled eyes. They were soft, almost…tender.
Had he lost them both, only for Yancy and John to realize they felt something for each other? Seamus wasn’t sure what was going on, but he couldn’t stand the thought of not only losing both men, but the two guys he loved most getting together—without him.
“Just tell me, Yancy.”
Yancy shook his head, his hand still brushing through Seamus’s hair. “John should be awake for this.”
Oh god!
They were going to tell Seamus that they were now a couple, and Seamus was going to be left empty-handed. His heart couldn’t take the impending news. Just what in the hell happened in the cruiser?
“No,” Seamus said, steadying his voice and steeling himself for what was coming. “If you are going to walk away from me, the least you can do is tell me now instead of dragging this out.”
Yancy looked shocked as he stared at Seamus. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that what—”
“Would you two stop?” John whispered. “My head feels like it’s going to explode, and you are not helping.”
“John.” Seamus swung around, his eyes eating up John’s handsome features. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” John’s eyelashes fluttered and a moment later, Seamus found himself drowning in grayish blue. “I might have a few aches and pains but I’ll live.”
Sweetheart?
Seamus gulped. If only John really meant that.
Seamus’s hand trembled as he reached down to caress the side of John’s face. He just had to touch him. John’s skin felt so soft, so warm. It reassured Seamus more than anything could have that the man was alive, even if he was a little banged up.
“Do you need anything?” Seamus asked softly. “I can get the doctor.”
Seamus started to turn away when John grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. There was an easy smile on his face, but Seamus didn’t know if it came from the pain meds the doctor gave him or something else.
John spread Seamus’s hand out on his chest then patted the top of it. “I have everything I need right here.”
“I…er…” Seamus glanced over his shoulder to see what Yancy’s reaction was to John’s gentle touch. Shock rolled through him when Yancy just smiled at him instead of going ballistic as he usually did if Seamus even mentioned John’s name. “What’s going on here?”
“It’s very simple, Seamus,” Yancy said. “John and I talked, and we’ve decided that neither one of us is willing to give you up, so we’re not going to.”
“I…you…” Seamus pulled his hand away from John and backed up, stepping away from Yancy as well. He felt like he had been sniffing goofy gas. Nothing Yancy or John said was making any sense.
Unless they were playing with him.
That thought slammed into Seamus so hard and so fast that he almost went to his knees under the anguish. He pressed his hand against his chest when he couldn’t get enough air to his lungs.
His other hand started to cover his mouth, but the rolling of his stomach sent him running to the bathroom instead. Seamus fell to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach into the white porcelain toilet.
When he raised his head, Yancy was squatting down next to him, a clean cloth in his hands. Seamus grimaced, both from the foul taste in his mouth and the grim frown on Yancy’s face.
He just wanted to leave. He didn’t know what type of game Yancy and John were playing by dangling his ultimate dream in front of him, but it was cruel, something he had never thought to see in either of the men.
Maybe he didn’t know them as well as he thought he had.
When Yancy tried to wipe at his chin with the rag, Seamus pushed him away. He had had enough of this. If John and Yancy wanted to play their little games, they could play them without him.
Tears of heartache sprang to Seamus’s eyes as he climbed to his feet and shoved his way past Yancy’s massive form. He saw John sitting up on the side of the bed as he stormed across the room. He ignored the hand John held out to him and headed straight for the exit, intent on escaping the hell he had found himself in as fast as he could.
“Seamus, wait.”
Seamus grabbed at the door handle, his frustration blurring his vision when he couldn’t get the door to open no matter how hard he pulled on it. Seamus suddenly felt a presence, a gentle warmth sinking into his skin from behind. He didn’t know if it was John or Yancy, but it didn’t matter.
He dropped his head against the door and tucked his lips in, closing his eyes to keep from giving in to the misery and desolation overwhelming him. “Please, let me go,” he whispered. He knew he was begging, but at this point, it was better than the alternative, which would be giving into his need to beg one—or both—of the men to keep him.
“Sorry, honey, that’s not going to happen.”
So, it was Yancy standing behind him. Seamus was pretty sure he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting away from the man. Yancy was just too damn big.
“We’re never going to let you go, Seamus.”
The strength and confidence in that statement sent shivers of apprehension down Seamus’s back. He turned so that he didn’t have Yancy at his back then wished he hadn’t when he saw the steel resolve in Yancy’s eyes. The only thing that kept Seamus from running was the desire that was also burning in their deep smoky-gray depths.
Seamus drew in a shaky breath. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Baby,” John said as he stood then slowly walked toward him, “what do you think we’re doing to you?”
“I don’t know.” Seamus gave into the urge running through him to stomp his foot. “But stop calling me
baby
.”
“Nope. In fact, I might get it tattooed on your ass.” John chuckled as he stepped up beside Yancy. “I get the right cheek.”
“I get the left one,” Yancy replied.
“Gah!” Seamus shouted as he tossed his hands into the air, more aggravated than he could ever remember being, and that was saying a lot. He had a lot of brothers. “No one is getting my ass until you explain to me what in the hell is going on here.”
“We told you, Seamus,” Yancy said. “John and I discussed it, and neither of us is willing to give you up, so we’re not going to.”
“We’re keeping you,” John added.
Seamus’s eyebrows shot up. “Both of you?”
Yancy and John nodded at the same time. Their eyebrows even pulled down over their eyes in the same dark manner. But the arms they crossed over their chests at the same exact moment were what finally did Seamus in.
“Do I get a say in this?” Not that he was going to say no or anything ridiculous like that. He just wanted to know where he stood. He’d worry about the dynamics of how everything would work later—like, after the shock had worn off.