War Torn (7 page)

~ Chapter Ten ~

~ Tucker ~

Lizette goes with Dennis to his prosthetist appointment since I have to work. She wants to make sure that he’s getting one of the better ones available and not try to skimp because of the money.

Being back at work is great. I was getting bored just sitting around at home all day. I can’t go back to the gym yet, but I’ll deal. Everyone at work has been great. I have people calling me just because they can.

The ache in my ears has pretty much gone away and I only had a few bouts of dizziness when I was home but nothing major. I’ve been truly lucky and I think Chuck is looking out for me from up above. At least that’s what I like to think.

On my way out of the office, my phone rings. Duke let me take his car to work today, so as I get into the driver’s seat, I answer my phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tucker,” my dad’s voice says.

His somber tone puts me on high alert.

“Hey, dad. Is everything okay?”

“No, son. Your mother has taken a turn for the worse,” he croaks.

Oh God! I reach up and rub the heel of my palm against the sudden ache in my chest. I knew that I would eventually get a phone call like this, but I’m a little caught off guard. Every time I’ve seen her lately she’s seemed okay.

“Are you home?” I ask.

“We’re at the hospital. They’re keeping her comfortable. They say she only has days left,” he says and I can hear the devastation in his voice.

“I’ll be right over,” I tell him and head in the direction of the hospital.

“Okay. Do me a favor and call your brother. He needs to come and see her before she goes.”

“Absolutely. See you soon.”

I hang up and call Rhys. I tell him what’s going on and he insists that he will get here as soon as he can. After I hang up with Rhys, I call Dennis.

“Hello?” he answers, sounding grumpy as hell.

“Hey, Denny,” I reply softly.

“Tuck? What’s the matter?” he asks, picking up on my tone.

“My mom isn’t doing well. She’s in the hospital and they say that she only has a couple of days left. I’m heading over there now. Just wanted to let you know that I’m not coming right home from work.”

“Shit. Do you want me to meet you there?” Dennis asks.

I scrub a hand over my face. “Not right now, babe. I think it just needs to be me and my dad at the moment.”

“I understand. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” he says sweetly.

God, I love him.

“Thank you, Denny. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hang up and drop my phone onto the seat next to me. The ride to the hospital only takes a few minutes. The walk up to my mother’s room makes me nauseous. I knock softly on the open door to alert my dad of my presence. He’s sitting in a chair next to my mom’s bed, holding her hand where it rests on the bed next to her hip. His blue eyes lift to meet mine. My heart breaks at the devastation in his eyes. I shove my hands into the front pockets of my slacks. I left my tie in the car and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of my dress shirt.

“Hey,” I murmur.

He gives me a watery smile as he stands and makes his way around the bed toward me. My eyes burn and my throat tightens. Goddammit. I’m not going to be able to keep myself in check when he hugs me, I just know it. My dad wraps me up in his arms, one of his hands cupping the back of my head. I hug him back, clutching at the back of his shirt. My dad breaks first. An anguished cry escapes him as he buries his face in my neck. I’ve never in my entire life seen my father cry, so this is absolute torture for me. I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face as I hold him.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe the time has finally come for her to go,” my dad chokes out. “What am I going to do without her?”

I have no answer for that, so I just hug him tighter.

~ Dennis ~

"Lizette, please, you are being ridiculous," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

I'm sitting on the exam table in the prosthetist's office with Lizette insisting that I get the best prosthetic available. I'm already not in the greatest mood because of the phone call I got from Tucker while we were in the waiting room. His mother is in the hospital and not doing well. So this shit with Lizette just adds to my aggravation.

"I am not. You need the best prosthetic," she states firmly.

"Why?" I ask, noting that it came out as a whine.

"Because you are my big brother and you deserve it," she replies.

"That's not a good enough reason. I don't
need
it," I argue.

"Well, I think you do," she says in return.

The prosthetist is sitting on his stool in front of me, taking a cast of my stump. I can see the smirk on his face. He thinks this is hilarious. Dick.

"Lizzie..."

"Dennis," she snaps. "Stop arguing with me. I'm paying for it and this is what I want, so just get over it."

I glare at my sister, who's sitting in the chair behind the prosthetist. Her green eyes are hard and unrelenting. Goddammit! She's not going to give in. She's so stubborn.

"I don't want you to spend that kind of money on me," I try again.

"This isn't about what you want this time. It's my money and I will spend it however the hell I want, Dennis Gabriel Parrish. So shut your mouth and let the man work."

Holy shit, she's breaking out my full given name. She hasn't done that in years! The last time she did that we were arguing about where she was going to live when she turned eighteen and moved out of my parents' house.

I sit there, brooding like the big ass man-baby I am, and let the guy do his job. There is no use in arguing with Lizette. She's always been stubborn, but now with being pregnant on top of that, she's even more so. The only thing I can do it accept it and get over it. Dammit.

After we leave the prosthetist's office, Lizette drops me off at home. I make my way to the couch and turn on the TV. I'm alone for pretty much the rest of the day until Duke walks in the door around 10:15 pm. He plops his ass down next to me and lets out a loud sigh.

“Hey, man. How are you feeling?” I ask Duke. I have the ten o’clock news on.

Duke pulls in a deep breath and lets it out. “Okay, I guess. I feel better being away from Baltimore and all of the memories.”

“Have you found any good apartments?”

He shrugs. “I saw a couple of possibilities. I have two more to look at tomorrow, and then I’ll decide.”

I nod. “That’s good.”

“How did your appointment go today?” Duke asks, eyebrow raised.

I roll my eyes. “I should have never let Lizette come with me. She’s insisting that I get the best prosthetic on the market.”

“Good. That’s what you should have,” he huffs, giving me a bored look.

I make an annoyed sound and give him a dirty look. “Not you, too.”

“Den, you need it, you deserve it. For the love of god, just take what’s being offered to you for once,” Duke pleads, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

I’m taken aback by his sincerity.

“If you don’t do it for yourself, at least do it for Tucker to make him happy.”

“Well, Lizette really isn’t giving me a choice, so…”

Duke snorts, a small smile curling one side of his mouth. “Good. I like your sister.” He snickers.

I chuckle.

“So when will you get the new one?”

“In a couple of weeks. They took a mold of my stump so that they can build it and customize it.”

“Damn, so you’re stuck in a wheelchair until then?”

“Not quite. They gave me a kneeling crutch to use along with regular crutches. So if I have the kneeling crutch on my right leg, then I can walk with the regular crutches.”

With a kneeling crutch, all I have to do it kneel on the pad, strap my leg in, and go. It actually works like a prosthetic. For most people, it would take the place of regular crutches, but since I only have one leg, I still have to use traditional crutches, too.

“Perfect.”

I smile and agree. Yeah, I was very relieved when they gave me that kneeling crutch. There’s no way I could handle being in a wheelchair for two or more weeks. I would go crazy.

“Where is this kneeling crutch? I want to see it.”

I reach over the arm of the chair where I have it propped up against the side. I hand it over to Duke. He takes it and looks it over. He nods in satisfaction before handing it back.

“Pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

Just then, the front door opens and Tucker walks in. He’s looking a bit disheveled. His dark mass of curls is a mess from raking his fingers through it. His white dress shirt is untucked, the first few buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. When he lifts his eyes, they are red and puffy, letting me know that he’s been crying. Damn, my heart hurts for him. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now. I’ve never lost a parent, and if I did, I don’t think that I’d care because they are both pieces of shit.

Tucker drops his keys in the bowl on the table next to the door, kicks his shoes off, then pads into the kitchen, where he pulls a beer out of the fridge. Duke and I watch him in silence. I know that I don’t know what to say, and Duke is probably in the same boat.

Tucker chugs his beer right there in the kitchen before tossing the bottle into the recycling can. Without a word, he walks down the hall and into our bedroom, shutting the door behind him. I turn to look at Duke. He’s frowning hard at the closed door to our bedroom.

“You need to go to him,” he says quietly.

I nod. I strap on the kneeling crutch as fast as I can then grab the regular crutches that are leaning against the back of the couch. I make my way to the bedroom and open the door. Once inside, I shut it softly. Tucker is sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed with his fingers laced behind his head.

I make my way over to him. I have to take off the kneeling crutch to sit down next to him. I slide an arm across his shoulders.

“Babe?” I ask gently.

He sniffs and shakes his head. “I’ve never seen my dad fall apart like he did today,” he croaks.

“Damn, baby. I’m so sorry.” I sigh and tighten my arm around his shoulders.

Tucker straightens just enough to turn and tuck his face into the crook of my neck and wrap his arms around my waist. I wrap my other arm around him and hug him to me. Tucker’s warm lips press against my neck. I hum and turn my head toward him. He lifts his face and presses his lips to mine. I bring a hand up to cup his jaw.

“Dennis, can I have you?” he whispers against my lips.

“Of course. But are you sure you want to do this now?” I ask.

“Yes,” he murmurs, kissing me a little harder, “I just need to forget about this shit for a little while.”

“Okay.”

We move further up onto the bed. Tucker helps me out of my clothes before stripping down himself. He positions me so that I’m half on my side and half on my stomach then presses his body up against me from behind. I glance over my shoulder at him. His face is serious as he slowly runs his hand down my side and over my ass. His hand finds the back of my right thigh and pushes my leg up so that my knee is level with my hip. His hand glides back toward my ass, which is now more open and exposed to him.

I gasp when his fingers brush over my hole. I haven’t bottomed since before his surgery, but I desperately want it again. I feel Tucker move behind me, his hand leaving me. I hear the telltale snap of the lube cap and anticipation has my stomach fluttering while a moan slips from my lips.

Tucker’s slick fingers find my hole and rub circles around it, pressing against it, but never entering. I groan and squirm, pressing back in hopes that he’ll give me what I want. His hot mouth finds my neck and he nips and sucks on the sensitive skin just under my ear.

“I’m sorry, did you want something?” he growls, pressing his finger against my hole again.

“Yes. You inside of me,” I moan.

He roughly shoves his finger inside of me and I gasp at the intrusion and the immense pleasure. He fucks me for a moment with just one finger before adding a second. His hard cock is pressed against the small of my back, where he’s thrusting lightly in time with his hand.

“Tucker, please,” I beg.

Tucker slowly removes his fingers. Another snap of the cap and then I feel the warm head of his cock at my hole. Holding his cock, he presses forward until he breaches the tight ring of muscles. I hiss at the initial burn, but when he grabs my hip and pushes all the way in, I feel nothing but pleasure. Tucker’s whole body is plastered against my back as he slowly starts to move. His lips brush the shell of my ear as he tells me how good I feel.

I reach behind me and clutch his taut ass, trying to pull him deeper, but I don’t think it’s possible. Tucker’s already slick hand finds my aching cock and strokes me slowly, keeping time with his leisurely thrusts.