Before You
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,063
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,063
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Thirty-eight
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I am finalizing the mailing list for last chapters. Must do those privately. If you haven't asked to be added, speak up!
“Naddy, we need more help.”
“No shit, Sherlock. How many more names am I gonna need for you?”
Roth smiled, recalling their exchanges. “Has anyone ever told you how delightful that wit makes you?”
She consulted a patient list on her clipboard. “I’ve had it commented on plenty. Don’t think the term ‘delightful’ ever came up.” Frowning, she said, “You can’t treat this many people in one day and walk outta here under your own steam.”
He finished adding fresh supplies to the exam room. “Is that concern, I hear?”
Her eyes, so sharp with intellect, turned to him. “I’m a cynical, disenchanted bitch. Don’t get your hopes up, doc.”
He walked over to her, intentionally invading her space. “Yet you’re carrying the child of a man who abandoned you, helping other people.”
“It’s good money.”
“Uh-huh.”
She cocked one hip and eyebrow in her customary way. “Is this where I tell you to kiss my black ass?”
“Where’re you living, Naddy? Here still? The street sometimes?”
She stepped back, staring up at him. “How’s that any of your damn business?”
“It’s very important for the emotional well-being of an expectant mother to have a stable environment. A nest to feather, if you will.” She did a good impression of someone who didn’t care. Still, he didn’t buy it. “I want to help you get a little place, somewhere close and safe.”
She squinted speculatively at him. “You high on something? I’ve heard stories about doctors getting hooked on their own shit.”
Roth laughed out loud. “I’m stone sober. How about we cut out of here at lunch, get a newspaper and start looking?”
She shook her head, appearing somewhat bewildered and very disbelieving. “Enough crazy talk. We got work to do.”
He lost track of time amid the rush of patients. A very thin woman, a prostitute he assumed by her dress and speech, came in with battered face and multitude of bruises on her arms. She refused to meet his gaze. Feeling rage spread under his skin, he gently examined her. Nothing seemed busted internally.
She didn’t appear to suffer from shock. The timetable could make the difference in that. “When did this happen?” Coloration of the contusions inclined him to think at least twenty-four hours had passed.
“Couple days ago.”
“Any tightness or pain in your abdomen or chest, vomiting of blood or bloody stools?”
She shook her head. “Huh-uh.”
“There’s not much to be done but cold compresses, unless they don’t heal. If things don’t look much better in a few days, you come back. I’ll get you x-rayed.” Realizing he wasted his breath, he spoke up anyway. “There’re programs to help get women off the street -”
“Whores are realists,” she cut him off, “we don’t believe in happy endings. I try something like that, he’ll beat me worse, then kill me.” Easing off the exam table, she said, “Thanks for looking at me.”
“Anytime. Have lunch before you go. I’d like to know you had a decent meal.” He watched her leave, feeling the bleakness of her outlook, and doubtless life, seep into him. He understood why Adam did this kind of work. It served as penance. But, Roth wondered if hadn’t made a mistake exposing himself to this full-time. Deciding to grab some lunch and coffee, he walked to the kitchen.
Joseph met him with a steaming mug. They’d brought some from home so they didn’t have to use the Styrofoam cups allocated for the shelter’s residents and meal crowds. He handed it to Roth, who automatically leaned down for his customary kiss on the cheek.
“You’re having a rough day,” Joseph observed. “I’ll get you a tray.”
He didn’t even ask what to expect. As he stood staring down that the at the stainless steel work surface of an island, a section of paper landed on it. A large copy banner read ‘Real Estate’. He lifted his head.
Naddy stood a few feet away, her usual prickly demeanor somewhat in absence. “If you’ve got it in your head to do some foolish rich white folk shit, who am I to stop you?”
His mood lifted, and when Joseph slid a tray heaped with meatloaf, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, rolls and green beans in front of him, he decided he could take the bad with the good.
When Roth and Joseph arrived at the house that evening, two black sedans sat parked out front at the curb. “We have company and I bet it’s not social,” Roth predicted.
“They make me nervous.”
He reached over to squeeze the younger man’s hand. “No one’s going hurt you with the three of us around.”
They entered from the garage through the laundry room door. Adam walked away from where he, Nathan and maybe another six agents, including Special Agent Sarah Spelling, stood gathered. As always, happiness surged at seeing his lover. He took the time to kiss him ‘hello’ before greeting their guests.
Special Agent Spelling shook his hand. “After what I’ve learned about the Napolitano faction, I have to commend you men coming through two tangles with their muscle. These are brutal killers who do Alfredo’s bidding without remorse.”
“Have you made any arrests?”
She shook her head. “This is tricky. I’m coordinating local law and our Denver field office. Unfortunately, for now it’s a matter of hurry up and wait. We’re keeping a team on the house. Those files have been copied ten times over. There’s no going back. But, that most likely won’t stop them from attempting hits on Mr. Taggart as revenge.”
“Revenge? For my retaliating against the people who killed my entire family?” Adam dropped his head back onto his shoulders and shut his eyes. “I already have terminal cabin fever and you’re telling me there’s no end in sight?”
“I’m very sorry. Everyone on this is working very hard. We have people on almost twenty-four seven.”
That night, Roth made love to Adam twice, put him in a hot shower and washed his smooth dark skin leisurely. Then, he rubbed him down with almond oil. Although it relaxed him, he remained awake.
“I can’t deal with this much longer, Roth.”
Heart aching for his lover, he said, “I know, baby. It kills me I can’t do anything to help.”
Adam reached for him, pulling his head to his chest. Wrapping Roth in his arms, he murmured, “You’re helping keep me sane.”
“I wish I could make it happen tomorrow and have it done for you.”
Adam’s deep voice rumbled against Roth’s cheek, the soft tone edged with violence. “I wish I could have about twenty minutes alone with Alfredo Napolitano.”
I am finalizing the mailing list for last chapters. Must do those privately. If you haven't asked to be added, speak up!
“Naddy, we need more help.”
“No shit, Sherlock. How many more names am I gonna need for you?”
Roth smiled, recalling their exchanges. “Has anyone ever told you how delightful that wit makes you?”
She consulted a patient list on her clipboard. “I’ve had it commented on plenty. Don’t think the term ‘delightful’ ever came up.” Frowning, she said, “You can’t treat this many people in one day and walk outta here under your own steam.”
He finished adding fresh supplies to the exam room. “Is that concern, I hear?”
Her eyes, so sharp with intellect, turned to him. “I’m a cynical, disenchanted bitch. Don’t get your hopes up, doc.”
He walked over to her, intentionally invading her space. “Yet you’re carrying the child of a man who abandoned you, helping other people.”
“It’s good money.”
“Uh-huh.”
She cocked one hip and eyebrow in her customary way. “Is this where I tell you to kiss my black ass?”
“Where’re you living, Naddy? Here still? The street sometimes?”
She stepped back, staring up at him. “How’s that any of your damn business?”
“It’s very important for the emotional well-being of an expectant mother to have a stable environment. A nest to feather, if you will.” She did a good impression of someone who didn’t care. Still, he didn’t buy it. “I want to help you get a little place, somewhere close and safe.”
She squinted speculatively at him. “You high on something? I’ve heard stories about doctors getting hooked on their own shit.”
Roth laughed out loud. “I’m stone sober. How about we cut out of here at lunch, get a newspaper and start looking?”
She shook her head, appearing somewhat bewildered and very disbelieving. “Enough crazy talk. We got work to do.”
He lost track of time amid the rush of patients. A very thin woman, a prostitute he assumed by her dress and speech, came in with battered face and multitude of bruises on her arms. She refused to meet his gaze. Feeling rage spread under his skin, he gently examined her. Nothing seemed busted internally.
She didn’t appear to suffer from shock. The timetable could make the difference in that. “When did this happen?” Coloration of the contusions inclined him to think at least twenty-four hours had passed.
“Couple days ago.”
“Any tightness or pain in your abdomen or chest, vomiting of blood or bloody stools?”
She shook her head. “Huh-uh.”
“There’s not much to be done but cold compresses, unless they don’t heal. If things don’t look much better in a few days, you come back. I’ll get you x-rayed.” Realizing he wasted his breath, he spoke up anyway. “There’re programs to help get women off the street -”
“Whores are realists,” she cut him off, “we don’t believe in happy endings. I try something like that, he’ll beat me worse, then kill me.” Easing off the exam table, she said, “Thanks for looking at me.”
“Anytime. Have lunch before you go. I’d like to know you had a decent meal.” He watched her leave, feeling the bleakness of her outlook, and doubtless life, seep into him. He understood why Adam did this kind of work. It served as penance. But, Roth wondered if hadn’t made a mistake exposing himself to this full-time. Deciding to grab some lunch and coffee, he walked to the kitchen.
Joseph met him with a steaming mug. They’d brought some from home so they didn’t have to use the Styrofoam cups allocated for the shelter’s residents and meal crowds. He handed it to Roth, who automatically leaned down for his customary kiss on the cheek.
“You’re having a rough day,” Joseph observed. “I’ll get you a tray.”
He didn’t even ask what to expect. As he stood staring down that the at the stainless steel work surface of an island, a section of paper landed on it. A large copy banner read ‘Real Estate’. He lifted his head.
Naddy stood a few feet away, her usual prickly demeanor somewhat in absence. “If you’ve got it in your head to do some foolish rich white folk shit, who am I to stop you?”
His mood lifted, and when Joseph slid a tray heaped with meatloaf, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, rolls and green beans in front of him, he decided he could take the bad with the good.
When Roth and Joseph arrived at the house that evening, two black sedans sat parked out front at the curb. “We have company and I bet it’s not social,” Roth predicted.
“They make me nervous.”
He reached over to squeeze the younger man’s hand. “No one’s going hurt you with the three of us around.”
They entered from the garage through the laundry room door. Adam walked away from where he, Nathan and maybe another six agents, including Special Agent Sarah Spelling, stood gathered. As always, happiness surged at seeing his lover. He took the time to kiss him ‘hello’ before greeting their guests.
Special Agent Spelling shook his hand. “After what I’ve learned about the Napolitano faction, I have to commend you men coming through two tangles with their muscle. These are brutal killers who do Alfredo’s bidding without remorse.”
“Have you made any arrests?”
She shook her head. “This is tricky. I’m coordinating local law and our Denver field office. Unfortunately, for now it’s a matter of hurry up and wait. We’re keeping a team on the house. Those files have been copied ten times over. There’s no going back. But, that most likely won’t stop them from attempting hits on Mr. Taggart as revenge.”
“Revenge? For my retaliating against the people who killed my entire family?” Adam dropped his head back onto his shoulders and shut his eyes. “I already have terminal cabin fever and you’re telling me there’s no end in sight?”
“I’m very sorry. Everyone on this is working very hard. We have people on almost twenty-four seven.”
That night, Roth made love to Adam twice, put him in a hot shower and washed his smooth dark skin leisurely. Then, he rubbed him down with almond oil. Although it relaxed him, he remained awake.
“I can’t deal with this much longer, Roth.”
Heart aching for his lover, he said, “I know, baby. It kills me I can’t do anything to help.”
Adam reached for him, pulling his head to his chest. Wrapping Roth in his arms, he murmured, “You’re helping keep me sane.”
“I wish I could make it happen tomorrow and have it done for you.”
Adam’s deep voice rumbled against Roth’s cheek, the soft tone edged with violence. “I wish I could have about twenty minutes alone with Alfredo Napolitano.”