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He ignored the question, tears forming in his eyes. “Why didn’t youaskme like a normal person? That’s why we have mouths, totalk. We could’ve gotten to know each other, but you hired someone to get information on me instead?”
Guilt swirled low in my gut and I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Shoelicker?—”
“Codswallop.”
The safe word slipped out of his mouth so easily that I froze.
Tears trickled down his flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to play right now. I wantanswers. Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Fuck.” I straightened and rocked on my feet. The urge to fall back into my dominant persona lingered on my tongue, but I pushed it aside. He’d said the safe word. This wasn’t a game right now, and while he hadn’t safe worded out of the whole relationship, if I wasn’t careful, he might. I didn’t want him to go. “I don’t do communication well....” I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth nervously as I considered my next words. “I.... Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” I rubbed a palm over my mouth. “I don’t open myself to people, and if I asked you questions, you’d want to ask some in return.”
“Don’t I deserve that?” Another sob left his mouth, and new guilt piled on top of the rest. I liked seeing him cry but not this way. Never this way. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. I knew why, but trying to explain made it all sound stupid. I opened my mouth but didn’t get to say anything else about the subject.
He gasped, clawing at his chest. A pained groan fell from his lips and he collapsed to his knees. “Oh God, it hurts.”
“Wade!” I rushed toward him and buckled beside him, grabbing his shoulders. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
He cried out, shivering. He scratched his chest over his shirt as though something was underneath, making it itchy. “I can’t breathe. I can’t.... Ithurts.”
I shoved my hand in my pocket and tugged out my phone, fingers shaking as I unlocked the screen. I typed in 9-1-1. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m getting an ambulance.”
Everything seemed like a dream after that—or more like a nightmare. I held a crying Wade in my arms as he whimpered from the pain, and I knew he had a high tolerance. At some point Neil came out, but the moment he saw the lights and heard the sirens, he went a sickly green and disappeared. As much as I wanted to beat him to a pulp for being a coward, I stayed with Wade.
“Who are you?” one of the paramedics asked me.
“I’m his partner.” I told him the truth.
They let me ride in the back of the ambulance.
“I don’t want to die,” Wade said, tears streaming down his face.
“Shh.” I held his hand in mine, kissing his knuckles. “You won’t. You’ll be fine. You’re my pretty boy, okay?” I didn’t know if I was trying to comfort him or myself. Maybe both of us. “My perfect shoelicker.”
Wade smiled despite the obvious agony he was experiencing. “Yes, Sir.”
I ignored the weird looks the paramedics gave me and concentrated on Wade on the way to the hospital. Sweat clung to his skin, and the monitor attached to his chest beeped too fast. Everything was fucking terrifying, and I decided I wouldn’t lose him. Fuck that. Not here. Not now.
Familiar, poisonous dread leaked into my veins, and I pushed it aside, along with every other icy feeling that assaulted me. This wasn’t Dad, and I wouldn’t lose Wade the way I’d lost him and Mom. Panicking wasn’t going to help in this situation. I needed to concentrate on Wade.
When we got to the hospital a team helped unload Wade from the ambulance, and he was rushed into the ER. A doctor met us, a middle-aged man with blond waves and round glasses.
“What do we have?” he asked, his Northern accent strong.
The paramedics threw stats at him that I didn’t understand, and the doctor nodded. Despite the fear that overcame me, I dropped my gaze to the shiny white badge with his name and photo on it—Dr. Brandon O’Quinn.
“Who are you?” Dr. O’Quinn asked, with slight urgency in his voice, as they rolled Wade in the glass doors of the ER and straight toward an open section. As soon as we were in, a nurse in blue scrubs grabbed the curtain and yanked it closed.
“Er, Albion Guthrie. Wade’s partner.”
The doctor nodded and attached a new monitor to Wade’s bare chest. “Wade, we need to find out what’s happening, okay? I’m going to run some tests.”
I swallowed around my panic as I watched Wade, who was in and out of consciousness. His head lolled and more sweat gleamed on his skin.
“Drugs?” Dr. O’Quinn asked, glancing at me.
I shook my head. “No, and I don’t appreciate the implication.”
