Accidentally on Porpoise Page 9

  * * * *

  A few cars behind him, Erik followed. It wasn’t quite daylight yet, and traffic would be light on the Interstate. It had only taken him ten minutes in the middle of the night to siphon most of the brake fluid out of the truck’s master cylinder and replace it with water and power steering fluid. With a little extra help, hopefully it would be enough to cause the intended effect.

  * * * *

  There were very few stops between his apartment and when he crossed US 41. He noticed his brakes felt a little spongy. That’s weird. I just had them done two months ago. I’ll have to call Jake and see if he can fit me in next week to look at them.

  He put it out of his mind when Aerosmith’s “Love in an Elevator” came on the radio. He sang along with it, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He reached I-75 and slowed to make the turn north onto the on-ramp. That was the only good thing about the early mornings when he had to drive to Sarasota. Traffic was always very light, the morning rush hour not yet started.

  He coaxed the old truck up to seventy and held it steady in the right lane. The occasional car passed him in the left lane. When the road widened to three lanes north of the Laurel exit, he slid over into the far right lane. With the wind rushing into the cab through the open windows and the morning radio DJs taking calls, he let his mind drift. It wasn’t until he noticed a set of headlights bright in his rearview mirror in the heavily wooded section south of the Clark Road exit that he broke out of his highway hypnosis.

  Go around me, douche. I’m in the slow lane for a reason.

  The SUV, a Jeep Cherokee, did finally swing around him. Then, they cut back in close, nearly clipping Sean’s front fender as they did, and hit the brakes.

  Sean slammed on his brakes and barely had time to realize they felt like they’d locked up. He cut the wheel hard to the right, too hard to keep it from plunging down the steep, grassy shoulder. When the tires hit the slick grass at highway speed, the truck flipped.

  Sean’s world went black.

  * * * *

  Emery went out and bought boxes and packing tape as soon as the nearby storage complex opened at eight that morning. He felt the twinges of a headache coming on, which was odd. He rarely had them.

  He drove to his place and started packing. But as the morning continued, the headache worsened, as did his mood. He’d texted Sean several times and hadn’t yet received a reply. By noon, his headache, combined with an imminent sense of dread, had him in the foulest of moods.

  I’m going to spank his ass for worrying me.

  When his cell phone rang a little after ten, he’d nearly finished getting his things boxed up and he almost ignored the phone. But seeing he didn’t recognize the number, he thought it might be work.

  “Emery Nadel.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation that inexplicably filled his heart with dread. When the man spoke, he immediately recognized Sam Morita’s voice. “Emery?”

  “Yes? Who is this?” he asked, hoping he was wrong.

  “This is Sam Morita. Sean’s father.”

  Chilling fear replaced dread. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  The choked sound in the older man’s voice didn’t help. “You need to come, Emery. Sean’s been in an accident. They air-lifted him to Bayfront. In St. Pete.” He man sounded like he was holding back a sob. “He’s in surgery.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As he drove, Emery wondered if the headache he felt was directly related to Sean’s injuries. The Moritas had just arrived at Bayfront not too long before him, FHP having only notified them of the accident minutes before they called him. Sam had explained they got his number from Sean’s cell phone, which the FHP officer who came to their house had with him. They didn’t know the extent of Sean’s injuries, only that he was still in emergency surgery and in critical condition.

  When Emery ran into the ER, they directed him back to the surgical waiting room where he found the Moritas huddled together in a corner. His fear and grief mixed with gratitude that Sean’s parents had taken the time to find his number and contact him. They both stood at Emery’s approach. Helen threw her arms around Emery and burst into tears. Sam put his arms around both of them.

  “How is he?” Emery asked, worried they’d tell him the worst.

  “He’s still in surgery,” Sam said. “His vitals are strong, but he’s not quite out of the woods yet.” Sam detailed Sean’s injuries as they sat, Helen huddled between them and refusing to let go of either of their hands.

  “How did the accident happen?” Emery asked, relieved that Sean was alive and that the Moritas had obviously gotten over what little reluctance they might have felt about him being their son’s partner.

  “The trooper said there was a witness, but he was over a quarter mile behind Sean. He said it looked like another car cut Sean off and hit the brakes in front of him. Sean ran off the road and the truck flipped several times as it went off the embankment and down into the woods. The driver’s side slammed into a pine tree. It took them nearly an hour to cut him out of the cab, they said.”

  They sat and waited for more news. In Emery’s heart, suspicion grew, blossomed, flourished.

  A nurse came to tell them Sean was doing well, and they would be moving him to recovery soon. From there, he would go to the surgical ICU. Emery excused himself and went outside to make a call. His body tensed, trembling, rage now coursing through his veins. Sean would likely live, but with a head injury, there were no guarantees as to his long-term prognosis. As he punched in a number, he walked down the sidewalk, away from a throng of smokers gathered around an ashtray.

  When his mother’s voice mail answered, he struggled and failed to keep his voice calm. “I’m at Bayfront Medical Center in St. Petersburg, waiting for my mate to get moved to ICU. You tell that fucking son of a bitch father of mine that if I find out he had anything to do with his accident, I’ll fucking kill him with my bare hands.”

  He hung up and turned his phone off.

  * * * *

  The nurse encouraged them to go to the cafeteria and eat. It would be at least two hours before they would be allowed to see him. She assured them she would personally come to the waiting room to get them.

  Emery noticed the Moritas seemed grateful to let him take charge. He gently herded them out of the waiting room and to the cafeteria. Once they had food and were seated at a table, Sam touched his wife’s hand and gently asked, “Do you want me to call Diane for you and tell her what happened?”

  Helen sniffled. “No, I did before we left. She said she’d probably come up later to sit with us.”

  “Okay.” He looked at Emery. “She was supposed to volunteer today.”

  From the shell-shocked expression on Sam’s face, Emery didn’t press for details. They had fully adopted him as a son, leaning on him, taking for granted he already knew what they were talking about. Despite his own heart breaking over not being at Sean’s side, he would do his best to be as strong as he could for them.

  They returned to the waiting room after eating. Emery had gently coaxed both of them to eat a little despite his own stomach threatening to upend. Their previous seats had been taken by another grave-looking family. He left their information with the volunteer at the desk before guiding them over to a set of chairs on the far end of the waiting room but with their backs to the door. This time, they maneuvered him to sit between them, holding both their hands. Helen leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Twenty minutes later, he started when he heard a woman’s voice. “Helen?” He looked up at the same time Helen did. Two women stood there.

  “Diane, Louise, oh, thank you for coming.” She stood and hugged the first woman.

  Emery blinked as he stared at the other woman. “Mother?”

  Louise Nadel’s eyes widened. “Emery? What are you doing here?”

  “Me? What are you doing here?” If this was some trick of his father’s, he’d wring the man’s neck.

  “Helen a
nd I volunteer at the hospice house. I came with Diane when she told me about Helen’s son. How do you know Sam and Helen?”

  Helen looked confused. “What?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Emery, that’s why your last name sounded familiar to me when Sean introduced you to us at dinner.”

  Both Louise and Emery said, “What?”

  Emery let confusion replace his anger. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Mother, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

  “Okay.” She gave Helen a hug and left the Moritas with Diane.

  He led her out into the hall where they’d have a little privacy. “What the hell are you doing here, Mother?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I told you. Why do you sound so angry?”

  “You didn’t get my voice mail? Father didn’t send you?”

  “What voice mail? What are you talking about? And how do you know Sam and Helen?”

  He dropped his voice to a low whisper. “Sean is my mate.”

  She blinked, her eyes widening. “What? Since when?”

  “Tuesday. Long story. But Father showed up at my office on Wednesday telling me I couldn’t do it. When I told him it was already done, and that we have a mate-bond—”

  “What?”

  He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “He stormed out pissed off. Then he showed up at Sean’s jobsite yesterday and offered him five hundred thousand dollars to walk away from me. And now this morning, my mate is in the hospital after a car cuts him off on the Interstate.”

  Her hand had flown to her mouth. “I…I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, come off it, Mother. You mean to tell me Father didn’t say anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve barely spoken to your father the past few days. I was out of town until yesterday.” She reached out to him, tears in her eyes. “You have a mate-bond with him? Really?”

  He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Yes. Just like a man and a woman. We can talk to each other with our minds when we’re close by.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes. Her fingers plucked at his arm. “You can?”

  Something’s really wrong here. “Yes. Why does that shock you? Because he’s a man?”

  She slowly shook her head. He had to struggle to hear her next words. “Because your father and I don’t even have that.”

  * * * *

  Emery’s mind reeled. He couldn’t think straight. He didn’t have time to question her further, however, because the nurse who had been updating them walked into the waiting room. Emery hurried in after her. When she told them they could go to the ICU to see Sean, he gathered Sam and Helen. With his mother and Diane in tow, they all followed the nurse down the hall to ICU. After a few tense moments of conversation with the staff, Helen and Sam signed papers allowing Emery full access to Sean and his medical information as his partner, and the three of them were allowed into the ICU to see him.

  Emery felt grief and rage threaten to make his head explode. Sean looked pale and thin against the bedsheets, his head bandaged, face bruised and battered, right arm in a cast, and IVs and monitor leads running from him.

  His doctor stepped in behind them and closed the sliding glass door. “How is he?” Emery asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  At the doctor’s quizzical look, the Moritas explained who Emery was. The doctor nodded. “Well, we have very good news for you. I know I told you initially he had a skull fracture, but it seems we were wrong about that. We took another CAT scan after surgery to check for brain swelling, and now we can’t find any sign of a skull fracture.”

  A giggle threatened to erupt from Emery’s throat as the doctor continued. He barely swallowed it back. “We did another one, just to be sure. There had to have been some sort of malfunction in our equipment the first time. We’re still looking into it. So I apologize for the scare.”

  Emery chewed on the inside of his lip to stifle his laughter. He knew damn well it wasn’t an equipment malfunction. It was another one of the mate myths confirmed. Dolphins mated healed faster than lone dolphins. That Sean was a human didn’t appear to matter to the Universe. He barely heard the doctor’s other comments. Sean’s spleen had been removed, and his broken right arm had a plate in it, but otherwise, it looked like Sean’s injuries weren’t nearly as bad as they initially thought.

  “He may be moved out of ICU as soon as tomorrow, depending on how he heals.”

  “What about the ventilator?” Emery asked.

  “We should be removing that soon,” the doctor said. “There’s no reason to keep him sedated now that we know his head injury isn’t as serious as we first thought. There’s no brain swelling. He likely has a concussion, and we’ll want to keep him in here for a few days, but as long as he continues to heal, he might be going home by the middle of next week.”

  Emery barely kept himself from hugging the doctor. “Thank you,” he hoarsely said.

  Emery walked around the bed to Sean’s head and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek. Then he silently spoke to him. “Come back to me soon, mate. You belong to me and I won’t let you go. You carry my heart and soul with you.” Aloud, he whispered, “I love you.”

  He stepped out so Sam and Helen could have a moment with him before the staff set about pulling his breathing tube. The three of them returned to the ICU waiting room, where the nurse said she’d come get them once they were ready.

  Emery tried to avoid his mother’s gaze, but she grabbed his wrist. “Can we please go talk for a minute?”

  He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to go back to Sean, to be there when he opened his eyes. There was a quiet corner in the back of the room. “Over there.” He pointed. He pulled his wrist free and led the way.

  She glanced around and turned her back to the Moritas. “How is he?”

  “He’ll live,” he growled, now more convinced than ever this was more than an accident.

  “I called your father.”

  “You did what?”

  She grabbed his arm again, her fingers digging in. “Listen to me, you stubborn child. I didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t tell me. And when I flat-out asked him if he had anything to do with this, he sounded distraught. He’s on his way here.”

  “He’s a liar then. He tried to bribe Sean to leave me.”

  She nodded. “That’s exactly why I called him. He swears to me he didn’t do anything. That he wasn’t involved.”

  “He called Sean an ‘it’ in my office. Forgive me if I’m less than convinced. He cares more about the pod and his precious family legacy than he does me or Sean.”

  “Please,” she begged him. “Listen to me.” Her expression hardened. He knew that look all too well, but her next words shocked the hell out of him. “If I don’t believe him, if I think he had anything to do with this, or if I find out he had anything to do with it, I will leave him. I swear upon the oceans of the Goddess.”

  Stunned, he stared at her. Eventually, he made his mouth work again. “You mean it?”

  “Have you ever known me to take an oath lightly, my son?”

  No. Louise Nadel was a woman of her word.

  His focus right now, however, had to be on Sean. “Will you interfere with me and my mate? I know how you’ve felt about me being gay.”

  Her eyes turned sad. “Son, if the Goddess has blessed you with a mate-bond that even I don’t have with my husband, then I will be the last one to question it, and the first to welcome your mate to our family.”

  He closed his eyes and fought the urge to burst into tears as she hugged him tightly. “Father will likely exile me,” he whispered.

  “Then he’ll be exiling us both, son. And your brother and sisters.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emery nervously followed Sam and Helen back into the ICU when the nurse came for them. He didn’t care who saw the tears rolling down his cheeks when they stepped into Sean’s cubicle and his eyes opened.

  He looked at Emery and silently said,
“I’m not letting go of you, either.” Followed by a tired, pained smile. He whispered, “Love you, too.”

  Emery let the sob escape him. He blinked away tears as he walked over to him and tenderly kissed Sean’s lips. “You heard me.”

  Emery realized his headache was now gone. He wasn’t sure exactly when it disappeared.

  “I thought I was dreaming.” He looked at Sam and Helen on the other side of his bed. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” he whispered.

  Helen and Sam both smiled widely through their tears. “You scared us, Sean,” Helen said as she leaned in to kiss his forehead.

  Then she made way for Sam to lean in. “Love you, son.”

  “Love you guys, too.” His eyes flicked to Emery before settling on them again. “You guys called Emery?”

  His mom nodded. “Your father did after the highway patrol came to the house. They had your phone.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  Sam squeezed his hand. “Hey, if you wanted a honeymoon, you could have asked for vacation time off. You didn’t need to go to these drastic measures.”

  Moans of pain punctuated Sean’s laughter. “Ow, Dad. No jokes. Please. Besides, you’re supposed to be retired.”

  “Sorry, son. Looks like it’s a good thing I’m not, you goldbricker.” He smiled at Emery. “He loves his mother’s soup. You’d think he’d just ask for it instead of doing this.”

  Emery couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. Whatever happened next, they would all face it head-on as a family.

  * * * *

  Joseph Nadel felt sick to his stomach as he drove up to St. Pete. He started to call Erik several times, each time afraid to complete the call.

  No. He wouldn’t have.

  He pulled over at the southern Skyway Bridge rest area and, with trembling fingers, finally made the call.

  He didn’t like the smug sound of Erik’s voice when he answered. “Hello, sir. How are you?”