Home of His Own by T. Chase (small books to read .txt) 📕

A pause.

“He has to be. St. Martin’s wired so tight, he needs someone to talk him down.”

Brody gave Tony a quick wink.

Tony remembered his own meeting with the country singer. It was true. Derek St.

Martin was a powder keg waiting to explode. It would take a really laid-back person to deal with him.

“Mr. Romanos?” A short thin man dressed in scrubs stepped into the hall.

“That’s me.” Tony rubbed his palm on his jeans before shaking the doctor’s hand.

“Morgan, I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Brody ended the call, stuffing his phone back in a pocket.

The heat from Brody’s body surrounded Tony as his lover came to stand behind him.

Relief flowed through him. It was nice to have someone around to hold on to if he needed.

“How’s Cody?” Tony didn’t like the serious expression on the doctor’s face.

“We’re not sure. Mr. Harwood has been stabilized and sedated. His collarbone’s broken, along with several ribs and his right leg. There’s no internal bleeding which is a good sign.” The doctor rubbed his tired looking eyes. “We think he’s broken his neck, but we can’t be completely sure until the swelling goes down.”

Tony bit back a moan. A broken neck. No one ever wanted to hear that.

“What about his face?” Brody asked, giving Tony a chance to recover.

“That’s another issue we won’t know the total extent of until we get the swelling down as well, though I do believe he’ll need extensive plastic surgery to rebuild much of his face. As far as we can tell, a majority of the bones were crushed when he made contact with the top of the animal’s head.”

A nurse handed the doctor some papers. He flipped through them and said, “Mr.

Harwood is being moved up to ICU now. You might as well go back to your hotel. He won’t be awake until later tomorrow, I believe.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Brody shook the man’s hand.

Tony was in shock. What would Cody do if he couldn’t ride? Being part of the PBR

had been his friend’s dream since he could talk.

“We have your phone number. The nurses will contact you if there’s any change.”

The doctor nodded and left.

Brody put a hand on the small of Tony’s back, guiding him out of the hospital. Tony couldn’t make his mind work. Before the doctor’s report, he could believe Cody would be okay. Maybe suffer a concussion and have to sit out a couple of events. These injuries were more serious than that.

He stopped long enough to light a cigarette. The first drag burned through his lungs and he held the smoke in for a second. Blowing it out, he felt his nerves settled slightly.

“Let’s go to the hotel and clean you up. We’ll worry about calling whoever we have to call later.” Brody’s hand grasped his.

He held tight to his lover’s large hand. The feel of solid flesh and a strong grip helped keep him grounded. How was he going to tell Cody’s parents?

* * * *

An hour later, Brody sat next to Tony. He’d gotten his cowboy showered and cleaned up. Tony wore a pair of white boxer-briefs now, his dark hair still damp from the shower. A shudder wracked the muscular body and Brody knew what he had to do.

Stripping, he climbed on the bed, leaned against the headboard and tugged Tony into his arms. Trembling, Tony curled up on his lap. He ran his hands over Tony’s back. Brody knew how much touch helped in a situation like this.

No words were spoken. He continued to hold Tony until his lover fell asleep. He eased out from under Tony’s warm body and tucked the blanket around him. Before he’d gotten Tony into the shower, Tony had insisted on calling Cody’s parents. From Tony’s side of the conversation, the couple would be driving in tomorrow.

Tony’s phone rang. A quick search of their bags revealed the phone. He checked the ID and answered before the ringing would wake Tony up.

“Hey Les.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and stepped out on the balcony, leaving the sliding door open.

“Brody.” If Les was surprised that Brody answered Tony’s phone, he didn’t sound it.

“Is Tony around?”

“He’s sleeping.” Brody stared out over the skyline. It was moments like this where he wished he still smoked.

“Really? I was calling to see how he did today.”

“Ah fuck. We’ll have to find out tomorrow. We left the arena before the round was finished.” He rested his elbows on the railing, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why? Is Tony all right?” Les’ concern filled the honey-toned voice.

“He’ll be fine. His friend, Cody Harwood, was in a nasty wreck today. We went with him to the hospital.” He sighed. “Broken collarbone, ribs and leg. The doctors think he might have broken his neck as well, but won’t know until the swelling’s down. They have him sedated. His face is smashed. I see a lot of reconstructive surgery for that.”

“Poor kid. What can we do for him?”

One of the many things Brody liked about Les was the man’s willingness to help anyone who needed it. Many people believed that part of his personality stemmed from his own accident, but Brody had the feeling Les had always been giving.

“At the moment, I don’t know. The medical bills are going to be huge, especially if he did break his neck.”

A glimmer of an idea started forming in his mind and Les was the man to talk to about it.

“I’ve only gone to a couple events so far, but it seems to me that it’s really fucking dangerous. Guys get injured every night and some seriously.”

“Both Randy and Tony have tried to explain to me the fact that danger is one of the beauties of the sport. I’ve never understood the rough stock events. Maybe they’re right and the danger is what makes them so popular.”

“The medical bills have got to be a burden for some of those guys. What if there was a fund