Shuffling behind the nurse, Forest was led to the next open door and left there, his heart lying dead under his ribs and his love choking him when he finally saw Connor.
There was no question the man’d been through a war. He looked like shit. His eyes were ringed a painful red, turning his blue eyes to a vivid iciness. Shirtless, he was an impressive sight, even with one arm wrapped in a cast and lines of paper tape striping one shoulder, reaching down his back. Con turned, breaking off his conversation with a female nurse to smile at Forest.
Forest’s heart began to beat, and he could breathe again.
“God, you fucking scared the shit out of me.” Forest exhaled, and Con grabbed him by the wrist to drag him forward.
Their embrace was tight and bruising, and Connor’s mouth found his in a rough, hard kiss. The heat of the man’s body seared away the chill the waiting room left on Forest’s skin, and he sighed, opening himself up to Connor’s assault. He clung, suddenly more frightened than he’d been outside with the group of Celtic raiders masking themselves as civilized people. Then the rage settled in.
Shoving off Connor’s chest, Forest punched the man in the arm. Surprised, Connor yelped, and a piece of tape flapped loose, waving over Con’s shoulder.
“Fucking asshole. Actually, all of you. Fucking assholes. You scared the hell out of me!” He refused to cry. Refused to sob. Hell, he wasn’t even going to tear up because the female nurse Con’d been talking to was now trapped against the wall, cornered by Forest and Connor crowding the examination table. Moving out of the way, he let her out, then rounded on Connor before the man could fold him into another hug. “Dude, no hands. You get your hands on me—”
“I’m sorry, love,” Connor whispered. “But hey, I saved your band.”
IT WAS a small gathering of Morgans and lovers. Forest was glad for the comfort of Connor’s fingers wrapped around his. Miki paced angrily back and forth, fury pushing his steps, his hands shoved down deep into his jeans. Kane watched him, his arms crossed over his chest while he leaned against the wall. Connor and Kane had convinced Sionn to stay with Damie since the hospital was settling the guitarist into a room, and they’d found a common space to talk about what they were going to do.
Duarte and Kiki joined them after a few minutes, with Donal close behind. Kane held his hand out to Miki as they approached, and the singer hesitated for a moment, his body vibrating with repressed emotion, but he stepped into Kane’s space, placing his shoulders against his lover’s chest.
“Okay, I’m going to break this down for all of you now so we’re all clear on what’s going on.” Duarte nodded at Connor. “Your dad’s here as a debrief. Got it?”
“Yeah, shoot.” Kane spoke up, wrapping his arms around Miki’s waist. “Mick said he IDed the guy who broke into the Sound.”
“Miki IDed Gary Rollins as the man who cracked him over the head, shot Damien, and then closed them inside of the studio,” Kiki agreed. “The lab’s running prints to verify. We found a heavy flashlight on the floor in the reception area. Its lens was broken, and there was blood on it. We think that’s what he used to hit Miki.”
“Who the fuck else could it be?” Miki said it before Forest could. “I didn’t know the guy’s face before Forest tapped him out.”
“It’s just a precaution, son,” Donal assured him. “And if there was someone else with him, it might help us find him.”
Connor pulled Forest in, nestling against his back like Kane’d done for Miki. It felt… comfortable. Safe. Even the weight of Connor’s cast across his chest was reassuring, a reminder that the man’d come out the other side of a shitty situation and was ready to take on the world. There was a brief pressure on the back of his head, and Forest smiled, now knowing the feel of his lover’s kiss in his hair.
Connor smelled a bit of antiseptic, and he’d borrowed a T-shirt from Kane. The combination of unfamiliar laundry soap and Connor’s skin confused Forest’s brain for a bit, but the soft cotton was a damned sight better than the paper gown he’d been given to wear. It hugged every muscle on his torso, and Forest raised his hands to slide his fingers into Connor’s pockets, glad for the warmth of their pressed-in bodies.
“Do we have any leads on where Rollins is?” Connor’s voice rumbled through Forest’s chest when he spoke. “Any known associates?”