Chapter 99: Monroe
Home... Angel, Zachery, Marguerite, and Stephens. He remembered Angel's fingers resting against his chest and Zachery's low voice assuring her that everything would be okay. For a short time he didn't think he'd make it. The anguish of leaving Zachery and Angel again was unbearable and what kept him moving in their direction.
The pain was finally at a bearable level, but the past hours, or maybe days, were a blur. He tested his limbs to see that everything worked.
Dull, throbbing pain, but manageable.
He needed the bathroom first, then food, then... rest. Just the thought of getting up made him want to close his eyes again. But, the pressure on his bladder could no longer be denied. He rolled to his side away from Angel's warmth and realized he was attached to an IV line.
He attempted to rip out the needle.
A large hand, very un-Angel, grabbed his wrist. "I don't think so," Zachery said.
Monroe turned his head and saw Zachery lying next to Angel.
"Then how the hell do you expect me to get to the bathroom?"
"Hmm, foul language and grumpy sickbed behavior all in one sentence... you are human."
"Obviously you pumped me with enough fluids to sink a ship. I dare say they need to come out and fairly quickly."
Zachery's laugh made Monroe's lips tip up slightly. He had not heard the sound of Zachery's laughter in much too long.
"I'll help you to the bathroom, but the line stays in. Stephens will have my hide if it's removed. Seriously, that man has a stockpile of medical supplies worthy of an Armageddon survivor."
Monroe felt Zachery rise from the bed and then he was standing next to him with his arm circling around his back.
"Sit up first, find your equilibrium and then we'll attempt standing."
Sitting up was not easy, but he managed with Zachery's help. He turned and looked at Angel, who was sleeping peacefully.
"She wouldn't sleep, so I asked Stephens for something to help her along. She won't be happy when she wakes up."
"How long have I been out?"
"Twenty-four hours. I was beginning to think you might wet the bed."
His grumbled laugh hurt. "I might if you do not stop talking and get me to the damn bathroom."
"Up you go."
Zachery pulled upward and then waited for Monroe to stabilize his footing.
"I'll carry the bag, but I want your arm around my shoulder. If you need to stop and sit down, we can do that."
"I will crawl if I must."
"No crawling yet. You might need to kiss Angel's feet in apology when you're feeling better, but I doubt she'll make you crawl."
They made it slowly to the bathroom. Monroe dripped sweat while his entire body shook.
"You're doing this sitting down. I'm not holding your cock... yet."
Cheerful mood... uninhibited laughter... cock jokes. This was not the Zachery he knew. But, he was right. Standing to do his business was out of the question. The burning in his abdomen was getting worse. Zachery lowered him to the toilet seat and then held him upright while Monroe managed to hold his own cock.
The relief from emptying his bladder gave him added stamina. By shuffling one foot in front of the other, and with Zachery half holding him up, he made it back to the bed.
"I was hungry before my trip around the world, but now I need sleep. If I take even a slight turn for the worse, put a bullet through my head and end my suffering."
"I'll bring some broth up in an hour and wake you."
"Please do not bother waking me for broth. See if you can kill a cow or something. I need red meat."
He closed his eyes, just talking sucked the energy from his body. He let the sound of Zachery's laugher lull him into sleep.
***
Zachery
Jokes had never been Monroe's strong suit, but Zach felt things were going to change on many levels. He added crackers to the tray holding beef broth and iced tea. It was the middle of the night, twenty-four hours after Monroe came back into their lives.
Stephens assured Zach that Angel would sleep until morning. When she woke, Zach planned to bed down in Angel's old room for a few hours.
He carried the tray back upstairs. Monroe lay curled slightly on his side with Angel tucked in close. Since the bandages needed to be changed, Zach included ibuprofen on the tray to hopefully take the edge off Monroe's pain before they got started. Zach rested the tray on the end table and took a long look at his friend. His color was better, though there was a gauntness in his cheeks that had never been there before. Overall, though, he looked much better than he had the day before.
Zach rested a hand on Monroe's shoulder and squeezed. Monroe's eyes popped open and he looked at the hand touching him and then at Zach.
"You brought broth."
His voice was so forlorn that Zach laughed. "We were fresh out of killable cows. It's beef, so you're halfway there. I have several saltine crackers to add to the mix so you don't gnaw your fingers off. Let me help you sit up first."
Zach pushed several pillows behind Monroe's shoulders and then rested the tray on his lap.
"Say something if you think you're going to pass out."
"I think I can manage, though lack of food might make a liar out of me."
"Eat."
Monroe's hand shook as he crumbled the crackers into the bowl and lifted his first spoonful of broth to his mouth. The soup wasn't hot, but Zach watched more land on Monroe's chest than between his lips.
"Do not try it."
Monroe always had the ability to read his mind. Zach resisted the strong urge to force feed the stubborn man. "I'll get more crackers from the kitchen and bring them up. Maybe you can soak them too and get more into your mouth."
Zach received the "look" Monroe usually reserved for bratty subs. He was sure Monroe didn't even know he did it, but an electrical zing went straight to Zach's cock. He fled the room before the great and powerful rope god knew the effect he was having on him.
When he returned, Monroe was almost nodding off again. "Here, try these and then we'll give up for now. I need to change your bandages and check for infection."
"I am achy and weak, but I do not think I am in danger."
Zach raised his eyebrows; he had his own look he gave naughty subs.
Monroe didn't say a word, just ate the crackers, took the ibuprofen, and then sank further into the pillows. Zach removed the tray and then lifted the bandages. The bullet wounds had a slight puffy redness around them, but looked much better than they had the day before.
The knife wound was a jagged mess and not a clean puncture or slice. Stephens stitched the wound but it would leave a nasty scar.
"It was a damn kitchen knife."
Three cuss words in one day was a record. Zach waited for him to continue.
"Uday, the man I was after, went down easy. One of his wives did not."
The government might have made Monroe a killer, but Monroe drew the line at women and children. Until now.
Zach could see what he thought was a haunted look on Monroe's face and knew his friend did what he had to do. "How many wives did this Uday character have?"
"He brought three. The other two will spread the word that if I ever see anyone connected to Uday, his entire family-parents, children, and grandchildren-will die."
"Do you think it will work?"
Monroe met his eyes and Zach realized he misread Monroe's expression.
"If not, then they will die." Monroe's cold deadly intent was clear.
"So be it." The two men were on the same page. If their family was threatened, they would go to any means to protect them.
Zach put ointment on the wounds and re-bandaged them. Monroe's eyes closed as soon as Zach finished. He took the tray downstairs, came back, and then crawled into bed beside Angel. Monroe was out of the woods and he needed sleep.
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