Fix It Up (Torus Intercession 3)

Deep exhale from him then, like maybe me being mad had been a concern.

“I’m worried about you. I think we should get you to a hospital and––”

“It’s not necessary, I promise you.”

“But I need to know that you’re all right,” I told him softly.

“I am.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“After I left Frost’s place, I came here, and everything got way worse.”

“Yeah, Owen was keeping tabs on social media until I could get to you. What happened over there?”

He sniffled and nodded. “I dragged Conner out of the bedroom before anything happened to him, but he was fighting with me, so we only made it this far.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s lucky I’m bigger now, stronger.”

“Wait, back up, you lost me. Owen said you got into a fight with some guy at Frost’s house who tried to start something with a woman you were with. What was gonna happen to Conner that made you come here?”

“His date talked him into running a train, and they were trying to kick me out of the room, but I wouldn’t let go of him.”

“And Conner wanted to, or thought he did, so he was fighting with you?” I would never judge another person’s sexual desires, preferences, or whatever else, but a drunken gangbang sounded like a regret waiting to happen.

“Yeah,” he said, shivering.

“I see.”

“We got out of there, and then, halfway down the hall, he said he was gonna puke, so I carried him in here.”

Shit. I’d been so entirely focused on making sure he wasn’t hurt that I didn’t even notice the guy passed out in the bathtub. Guess that explained the smell. “Okay.”

“He’s thrown up four times already, so I turned him on his side and wrapped him in towels to keep him warm.”

It was all good thinking.

“I’ve got to get him home, but I don’t want anybody to see him like this, and I don’t want him to sleep in the bathtub all night, either.”

“Do you think he’s been drugged?” I asked, but my entire focus was Nick, and I lifted my hand to his cheek, turning his head so I could examine the damage to his face. “And who the fuck hit you?”

“Kara’s boyfriend is totally jealous of her and Frost,” he explained, “which he shouldn’t be because Frost Warren is a hundred percent gay, no interest in women at all, not bi like me. But no matter how many times Kara has told him, and explained, and even had Frost confirm it, the boyfriend wasn’t buying it. He was drunk and took a swing at her.”

“And you stepped in between them.”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “I had to try and do something.”

I nodded, easing free of his arms. “Well, it sounds like you took real good care of her.”

His words confirmed Owen’s accounting of the situation. But he was clearly not done talking through what’d happened.

“It was all my fault. I’m the one who brought Kara to Frost’s house for the after-party. We weren’t there very long before people started talking about how some guys were planning a gangbang with the guy who sang ‘Summer Girl.’ Since I knew they meant Conner, I got over here as fast as I could.”

“Okay,” I said, because it was a lot. Glancing behind him, I confirmed that Conner was still passed out cold but breathing easy.

“He hasn’t made any new music since that first album,” Nick offered, rambling. “I guess he never got around to it, you know? It’s not because he can’t, or because he’s not talented, it’s just…he’s been doing other things.”

“Okay,” I said, because it was the only thing I had to offer.

“He’s a great singer. He has this amazing range, and he’s a good lyricist,” he said, his voice cracking. “His first album was strong, and he had the huge hit.”

“Sure,” I agreed, seeing that he was lost in what he was telling me.

“But he got into some heavy drugs, way more than me, and he used to live in LA, where all the parties are…”

I was quiet, letting him work through what he was thinking.

“And now he’s just as famous for the stuff that tears him down as he is for the album.”

I so wanted to say something, to direct his attention to the parallel between himself and what he was telling me. I was passing up a clearly teachable moment, but maybe, hopefully, Nick could see himself in Conner and comprehend the life lesson he was being given.

His eyes misted as he looked at me. “My phone was dead, so I found someone to bum a charger from and was going to call you, but then Conner kept throwing up, and I can’t find his phone, and—can we just take him home?”

“Of course,” I told him. “Are there people there to take care of him?”

“Yeah, he lives with his parents and his sister. He’s got the pool house or something. I don’t remember.”