Page 36 of Shrouded Desires
The bright sun blinded Storm momentarily as he stepped off the curb to head for the car. “Whatever. I don’t do sappy shit.” He was still giving Max shit when shots rang out. He shouted as blinding pain radiated down his leg. He dropped to the pavement as spots swam in front of his eyes. Another volley of gunfire pierced the afternoon followed by an agonizing cry as Max hit the ground next to him. Rolling to his side, his only concern was his friend. “Max!”
His buddy was lying a few feet away from him a pool of blood spreading under his body. Fuck! Lizzie was going to fucking kill him. “Don’t you dare die on me, man. I can take over Raine, but I’ll be damned if I’m taking Lizzie on full time. I don’t do pussy!” He tried to crawl toward Max, but the pain only intensified, jolting up his spine until he felt like he was going to puke. Looking down, he stared blankly at what used to be his knee and thigh. It was a mass of shredded fabric, skin, and bone. It almost looked like hamburger meat. If hamburger meat spurted blood and made him light-headed.
He collapsed next to his friend, barely hearing the shouts and then the faint sound of sirens. Fuck, Lizzie wasn’t going to kill him, his boy was. For making him come out of the club. He’d make it up to him…buy him the best goddamn collar he could find.
Yeah….that’s what he needs…my collar around his throat…
* * *
Smoothing a small drop of antibiotic ointment over the final burn, Raine bit his lower lip. He felt like shit. It was always this way. He’d harm to punish himself, then feel like shit afterward. He truly was a fucking moron. He didn’t know why Storm even wanted him. Probably wouldn’t after he saw the new burn marks on Raine’s body. Using small bandages meant for razor knicks, he covered each of them, before tossing the wrappers into the garbage can next to his bed. How was he going to explain this to Storm?
You don’t have to. You can hide them.
He pushed the voice away. He might have fucked up and harmed himself, but he wasn’t about to lie to Storm about it. “There is no power exchange without trust.”
He tugged on a pair of loose cotton pants, wincing at the brush of fabric over the burns. He deserved this pain, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
A sharp ring of the extension in his room, had him jumping. Only Lizzie and Master had the number of the private line. He lifted the receiver to his ear. “I fucked up.”
“You what?” Lizzie’s voice quivered. “Damn it Raine. I can’t deal with this now. Have you seen the news?”
“No.” He stood. “What happened? Did they cancel Yale’s annual sale?”
“Knock it off!” Lizzie sounded pissed. “You need to get your ass to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” Fear crept up inside of him. He couldn’t go to the hospital. It had taken everything he had the last time. “Did Master have another heart attack?”
“No. There was a drive by shooting at the diner. Master and Storm were both hit. The police officer told me they were taken there by ambulance. Now get your ass to the hospital. Your Daddy needs you.”
His heart stopped, a million questions flowing through his head, when Lizzie hung up on him. He swallowed hard, his panic trying to rise to the fore. He shoved it back as he fumbled to shove his feet into a pair of battered deck shoes next to his bed. He grabbed his cell, ordered an Uber, made it all the way downstairs to meet it when he realized he didn’t have a shirt on, nor did he have his wallet or mask.
“Shit.” He ran back upstairs to grab the items.
Twenty minutes later he tipped the driver before exiting the vehicle. Shoving his hands into his front pockets, he pressed hard on one of the burns. He hissed, but the pain was enough to take his mind off that fact that he would soon be surrounded by people. He took several more deep breathes and entered. The emergency room was utter chaos. Evidently Daddy and Master weren’t the only ones hit in the drive-by. Several other families were milling around, there was quite a bit of sobbing going on.
He approached the desk. “Hi, I’m the boy-friend to one of the victims that was brought in after the shooting. I was told he was brought here.”
“Name?” She asked her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“Storm Parkers.”
The nurse at the station pursed her lips. “We don’t have a Storm Parkers here.”
“But…” Tears welled up in his eyes. He’d come for his Daddy. “There has to be. Lizzie called me and told me come to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. Even if we had a Storm Parkers here, we only let immediate family back. Security protocol, you know.”
“Shit.” He pushed hard on a different burn. The pain flared hot and bright. “I swear, I’m telling you the truth. I’m with him. If you ask Lizzie Rodkin, she can vouch for me. Max Rodkin is Storm’s best friend, and they were together today at the diner.”
“I’m sorry Sir but we can’t-”
“Raine, there you are.” A well-modulated voice came from his right.
“Excuse me?” He chewed on his lower lip.
The suave older man kept his gaze on Raine. “Why are you holding up John’s boyfriend? I told the staff he’d be arriving as soon as we got a hold of him.”
“I’msoosorry, Mr. Jones. I was just following hospital policy. He gave Mr. Doe’s real name and…”
