Chapter 97: Zachery
Nine days had passed since Monroe's short appearance, and Zach was becoming worried. The first week was easy because he refused to accept that Monroe wouldn't return to them. This evening, he met Stephens' eyes and saw the same trepidation on the older man's face.
Running with Angel each morning after a round of sex and spending time each evening in the playroom helped him fall into an exhausted sleep at night. But... the days were becoming unbearably long.
A little after one in the morning, his eyes instantly opened at a short chirp from his cell. One hand went to his gun while he read the message on the screen.
He's here. I need your help. Come to the garage.
Stephens' apartment was over the garage, but Zach wasn't leaving Angel without being sure. He pulled on pants, walked into the hallway, and then went to his old room and dialed.
Stephens picked up immediately.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but he needs help and he's not cooperating."
"I'll be right there."
Zach practically ran from the house, his heart beating two-hundred beats per minute. He entered the garage and saw Stephens trying to hold Monroe up or possibly down. It was hard to tell.
Blood coated Monroe's side, he was filthy, and as Zach drew closer, he smelled the general unwashed odor coming from the most fastidious person he knew.
"What the fuck, Nathanial?"
The two men turned and Zach caught his breath. Sunken, haunted eyes looked back at him. He reached Monroe as his eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled sideways onto Stephens, the only thing keeping him from the hard concrete.
"He's not in good shape, sir. Where should we take him?"
"We need to clean him first and assess his injuries, and then he's going in the house to his own bed."
"I believe he may need a hospital, sir."
Zach looked into Monroe's gaunt face. It had been only nine fucking days, but this was not the same man he saw a week and a half ago. "Let's get him cleaned first and then we can determine what more he needs. I know you keep antibiotics on hand."
"Yes, sir. I'll help you carry him upstairs to my rooms."
Zach leaned in and took Monroe's large body into his arms. "No need. I've got him."
They cut off his clothing, sponged his body, filled and emptied a large bowl of soapy water that quickly turned pinkish red several times, and finally had a look at Monroe's injuries. He had a knife wound in his thigh, multiple bruises on his ribs and a bullet wound that appeared to have passed in and out of his lower side. Blood loss and infection would be the biggest battles. Monroe's temperature was one hundred and three.
Stephens started an intravenous saline drip and then shot antibiotics into the line. It took them five minutes to get ibuprofen down his throat for his temperature. Monroe remained comatose through their ministrations.
"I'm wrapping him in a blanket and carrying him to his room."
"But, sir..." Stephens tried to argue.
"It's where he should be and I'm not keeping Angel from his side for another moment. I kept his secret for nine fucking days, but no more. Even if he dies, Angel is seeing him one last time."
"I don't believe he'll die, sir. He's too tough for that."
"Then carry the saline bag for me, please."
"Yes, sir."
Zach's arms felt dead after the trip up to Stephens' apartment, but he would get Monroe to their room even if it killed them both. He thankfully found renewed energy when he faced the stairs leading up to the room because he knew Angel was there.
She still slept, exhausted after their long day. He carried Monroe to the far side of the bed and lay him down. Stephens secured the IV bag on the tall poster of the bed.
"I will wake Marguerite and have her make broth for Master Monroe and food for the rest of us, sir," Stephens whispered.
"Thank you. Please leave the door open and the hall light on for me."
"Yes, sir."
Zach walked around and sat on the side of the bed closest to Angel. He rolled her slightly so she faced away from Monroe. She uttered a slight moan in her sleep, but didn't wake up. He leaned in and kissed her lips, nibbling and sucking for several moments before he finally got her attention. She tried to roll away, which made him smile. If she was fully awake she would always submit to his sexual call, no matter how tired she was.
"Emm, what time is it?" she asked sleepily.
He pulled back slightly, seeing her tired gaze in the soft light spilling from the hallway. "I think it's nearly two."
Her eyes opened fully. "Is something wrong?"
"Yes and no. I need you to forgive me for what I've kept from you over the past nine days, actually ten days..."
"Kept from me?"
"Yes. He asked me not to tell you and I didn't."
Her forehead creased and she shook her head slightly against the pillow. "Tell me what?"
"Here," he joined her on the bed and gave her a brief hug. "I'm going to roll you over, but I need you to remain as still as possible."
She had no idea what he was trying to convey and the only thing he could do was show her.
The outline of the man laying at her other side obviously startled her, because she gave a quick intake of air. Then her body began to shake.
"No, no, no. I'm dreaming. Please no."
"Shh, I've got you. You're not dreaming. He's injured, but he found his way home."
"Please, release my hands."
Zach let her go. She came to her knees and he followed, staying behind her. She reached out to Monroe's face and touched him with tentative, shaking fingers. Her other hand went to his neck.
"I'm going to turn on the light. Are you okay if I get off the bed?"
She didn't answer.
"Angel, he's injured. I need to make sure you don't accidently hurt him if I leave the bed."
Sobs worked their way out with the word, "Nn...no."
Zach turned on the light and watched Angel cover her face as she sank carefully into Monroe's side. He looked at the IV bag to ensure it continued to flow, and then crawled back on the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Gulping sobs shook her body.
He rubbed her side, offering comfort, but knowing she needed these tears. Zach was past being strong when it came to Monroe, and a trail of wet streaked down his face. Overwhelming relief brought all his emotions to the forefront.
Monroe seemed to sense Angel's nearness because he shifted closer to her even when the movement obviously caused great pain. Angel's hand went to his upper chest and she began offering murmured assurances that he was safe. Zach couldn't understand some of her words because she spoke in the language of her childhood. Monroe's facial features relaxed and he shifted into a deeper, healing sleep.
Time passed slowly as they both lay watching the man they loved. A small sound from the door caused him to look over his shoulder.
"Dios m韔."
Marguerite stood in the doorway with Stephens behind her.
"I'm sorry, sir. I could not keep her downstairs any longer."
"Please come here and sit with him, Marguerite."
She walked closer to the bed and then around the side. Stephens lifted a chair from the corner of the room and placed it by the bed. She took Monroe's hand and held it in a careful grip, mindful of his IV.
"Will Se駉r be okay?"
Zach answered, "If we can keep his temperature down, he should be. We couldn't find any broken bones, though he's bruised from head to toe. He has a bullet wound in his side and a stab wound in his thigh. We'll know more in the next twenty-four hours. If he worsens, he's going to the hospital by way of an ambulance."
Angel continued to cry and slight shudders periodically shook her body. Marguerite uttered, "Dios m韔" every few minutes, but mostly the four of them stood vigil. Marguerite eventually went downstairs and then brought up a tray of finger sandwiches before taking her chair again. They changed out the bag of fluids, gave him more antibiotics, and waited.
The morning sun had just started peeking through the window coverings when Monroe opened his eyes. He looked around and then let out a long, shuddering breath. Angel began crying again and his free hand, uninhibited by the IV, reached out and pulled her close.
Marguerite stubbornly placed a quick kiss on his cheek, gave him an affectionate look, and then walked to the door, followed by Stephens.
"You will be better soon, el invalid," she turned and said.
Monroe didn't take his eyes from Angel as he gave a weary nod.
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