Read Being Zolt Online

Authors: D. L. Raver

Being Zolt (20 page)

“Irelyn!” he called as he picked up his tempo, his cock twitching inside me, giving me just what I needed.

Golden tendrils of orgasmic bliss swept through me as the sun finished its accent into the sky, and together, we fell.

We held each other close after, enjoying the sounds of the wildlife coming to life around us. Laying on his chest after sex was one of my favorite things.

“Happy birthday, baby. Did I do good?”

“Best birthday ever.” I lifted my head and kissed him soundly.

“I love you, Irelyn.”

“I love you, Zolt.”

For the next two days, Irelyn and I spent time discovering each other, making love, and generally enjoying this person I had married. I told her things no one, with the exception of Brody, knew about me, and she told me things I suspected only Rach or maybe her brother knew about her.

Things like I slept with my teddy bear until I was in high school.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. I can just imagine a younger you curled up with your teddy. Do you still have him?” Her smile was so cute that I didn’t mind her mocking me.

“No. I left him with my mom. Who knows if she still has him.” Now that I thought about it, I was kind of sad I didn’t have him. “So, tell me something.”

“Hmm. Well, Cory and I kissed once.”

“What?” I growled and sat up straighter; I couldn’t stand the thought of her kissing anyone but me.

“Calm down, caveman. It was one kiss, and a disastrous one, at that. We had absolutely no chemistry, and besides, I knew he liked Rach.”

“Good, because I’d hate to have to kick his ass.”

“Right.” She narrowed her eyes at me and a line formed between her brows. I quickly decided to change the subject. “You’re going to finish college, right?”

The firelight from the fireplace flickered off her blonde waves. I found myself surprised that with each passing day, I found her more and more beautiful.

“I guess. My trust fund won’t release for another three years if I don’t,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.

“I hope you will finish. You have what, two more semesters?”

“Yes, but I structured my degree to please Dad. A degree in Zoology wasn’t what I wanted. Ironically, I’m thinking of going in an entirely different direction.”

“Which is?” I asked and took a drink of wine.

“You’re going to laugh. I mean, like bust-a-gut laugh.” Her gaze dipped downward and she rested her cheek on her shoulder.

Shit, I wanted to throw her down and fuck her; her shy demeanor did things to me. “What?” I asked, saving that thought for later.

“I think I want to become a human rights lawyer so I can help women involved in sex trafficking and other atrocities. This whole thing with Marcus has opened my eyes to the sick practice. And I know there’s worse going on in other parts of the world.”

“If the issue weren’t so serious, I would laugh at the woman who shivered at the thought of becoming a lawyer, but I think it’s a great idea. Helping people is important to you.” I took her hand and kissed her palm. “I just want you to be happy. We have money and we have time. If you want to go to law school, do it.”

“And you? Do you want to stay in corporate and contract law?”

I ran my finger around the rim of my wine glass, my gaze avoiding hers.

“What, Zolt?” Her intonation rose with concern.

“When I came here to work with Jacob, I did so with the understanding he wanted to move into the sports arena and the representation of athletes. I didn’t think I was ready for that, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea.”

“I love the idea. You’d be great at it. I can see it having been there yourself. I really can.” Irelyn grinned at me, and I could see the relief in her eyes.

“You look relieved.”

“I am. I hope one day you’ll be able to enjoy football again. It was your first love, after all; you never get over that, you know?”

“I do. Besides, I have a feeling my wife won’t give up her love of football, even for me.”

“Mmm, you’re right; I won’t.” She set down her wine glass and straddled me. “It would be great if you’d watch it with me because watching a good game makes me hot, like rip-off-your-clothes-and-throw-you-down hot.”

“Yeah?” I asked, abandoning my own glass.

“Yeah,” she answered, kissing me thoroughly, demandingly.

“That hot, eh?”

“Yep.” She reached between us and stroked my hardening cock. I let my head fall back and enjoyed her attentions as she sucked at the tender spot just behind my ear.

Things were just heating up when my phone rang. I ignored it, too caught up in Irelyn moving between my legs and unzipping my jeans. When it rang again, and again, she stopped and blew out a frustrated breath.

“Better check it; might be important.” She thrust the offending noisemaker at me.

Before I could check my messages, a demanding knock sounded at the door.

We adjusted our clothing, and I answered the door to find two of T-bone’s men holding out a phone. My heart fell to my feet; they wouldn’t be here if something else bad hadn’t happened.

“T-bone is on the phone for you,” Conrad said and shook the phone at me.

“T, what’s up?” I could hear the slight quaver in my voice.

“Z, it’s Brody. He’s in the hospital. We found him badly beaten with a couple of broken ribs, a broken arm, and a severe concussion. He’s in a coma.”

“Fuck!” I drew out the word and ran a hand through my hair.

Irelyn stepped in front of me and mouthed “what?”

“Brody,” I mouthed back. When her faced drained of color, I didn’t need to say more.

“We’ll be home in a few hours, and we’ll meet you at the hospital. I assume you’ve given the info to Conrad?” I looked at the large, brunette man filling the door who nodded his assent.

“Yes,” T-bone answered. “I’m sorry, Zolt. Brody insisted he didn’t need a guard. Said he was more than capable of taking care of himself.”

“Not your fault, T. Brody is a fourth-degree black belt. He is capable.”

“Not against two men with baseball bats.”

“Baseball bats! Holy shit, T.” I squeezed my eyes closed. When I opened them, Irelyn was staring at me, her eyes wide with fear.

“Just get here, Z. Your brother needs you.”

“On my way,” I answered and disconnected the phone, throwing it on the couch. I pulled Irelyn to me, holding her close. I wanted to scream and hit something, let out crazy-Zolt so he could fuck Marcus up.

“What?” she said into my chest.

“Marcus’s men attacked Brody. They beat him with baseball bats, and he’s in the hospital in a coma.” I clung to her as I said the words. I couldn’t believe Marcus would stoop this low. This wasn’t Brody’s fight, but that didn’t matter; anyone close to me or Irelyn was now fair game. I kicked myself internally for not anticipating this.

Irelyn had been right when she said we wouldn’t win if we didn’t start acting like him.

Now, I was ready!

What I saw some three hours later when I walked in the hospital floored me—seriously knocked the wind from my lungs. I almost didn’t recognize my own brother; his face had been turned into hamburger. My legs did the weeble-wobbles thing, but I didn’t fall down.

I dropped my head between my knees and sucked in air, the antiseptic smell firing up my gag reflex in triple time. For a split second, I wanted to run, get the hell out of the hospital where I’d spent the worst months of my life. But I wouldn’t do that to Brody, not when he’d stayed by my bedside after the injury.

When Irelyn gasped, I looked up in time to see her rush into the bathroom. I could hear her puking and knew seeing him must have turned her mind into a View-Master on steroids, clicking through all the horrible images of her brother dead in the dirt.

My attentions switched between needing to take care of my wife and my brother. When I heard the toilet flush, I straightened, figuring Irelyn would be okay. She had a strength about her that never failed to amaze me, yet funny enough, it was a strength she didn’t seem to recognize in herself.

I pulled a chair next to Brody’s bed.

“Fuck, dude, I’m sorry. I should’ve anticipated that Marcus would do this.” I took his hand and bowed my head. I didn’t want to cry, but screw it all if tears didn’t fall down my cheeks.

“Zolt?” Irelyn’s warm hand squeezed my shoulder.

I dried my eyes before I looked up at her. “Are you okay?”

“I am. Sorry about that,” she said, digging in her handbag for probably gum or maybe a mint.

I shook my head. “Don’t apologize. I can only imagine…” I didn’t need to finish that thought; we both knew exactly what memories seeing Brody like this conjured.

Irelyn pulled over another chair and sat next to me, holding and stroking my hand, placing her other hand on Brody’s arm.

The doctor came in and updated us with Brody’s condition. He was on the younger side, mid-thirties I’d say, and he took an instant liking to my wife; I saw it in his eyes when his gaze roamed appreciatively over her body as she stood to shake his hand.

“I’m Dr. Howard, the neurosurgeon on call.”

“Irelyn Wilk—uh Hamil, I mean. Irelyn Hamil.” She glanced at me with a wistful smile as she twisted her wedding ring around her finger.

“Zolt Hamil,” I growled as I stood myself. I couldn’t believe this dickhead surgeon checked out
my
Irelyn. But this wasn’t the time to go caveman-possessive with the man taking care of my brother. Nonetheless, I pulled her to my side, draping a protective arm over her shoulders.

“Your brother’s prognosis is guarded but good. We’re keeping him sedated while the swelling in his brain decreases. If we don’t see enough improvement over the course of the next twenty-four hours, we may have to perform a cranial burr hole to help relieve the pressure.” The surgeon typed on his tablet and scrolled through a few screens.

“Oh, God,” Irelyn said and clamped her hand over her mouth. Even I felt a little sick at the thought of them drilling a hole in his head.

“That would be a last resort, of course. His labs are good, and your brother is young and in excellent health. We have every expectation he’ll make a full recovery.”

“You said you’re the surgeon on call?” I asked, giving Dr. I-want-to-fuck-your-hot-wife a doubtful glare.

“Yes, Mr. Hamil, that is correct.” He stiffened and one brow rose as if in contest to my unspoken assertion.

“And you’ve been a neurosurgeon for how long?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Zolt!” Irelyn objected, but I ignored her.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Hamil, I understand your husband’s concern. I’ve been practicing for almost two years now.”

“Right. I’ll be contacting Dr. Stephen Fredricks from Massachusetts General. Brody worked under him for a time and they are great friends. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to come here.”

“So, Mr. Hamil is a doctor? And he’s acquaintances with Dr. Fredricks?” The young doctor’s face paled just a little. Dr. Fredricks was one of the country’s top neurosurgeons and currently served as the Board Chair of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. He was also the one who saved my leg when the other surgeons wanted to amputate.

“Stephen is a family friend. In fact, if he finds out about this before I call him, he’ll have my head. Tell the head of your department to expect a call from him.”

“S-sure, okay,” Dr. Howard stammered and fumbled with his tablet, nearly dropping it. “I’ll just go and phone the department head.”

“You do that. And that would be?” I asked unimpressed.

Irelyn stomped on my foot for being rude and I winced. As soon as we were alone, I was going to be reamed by my wife for being a dick, but this was my brother; I didn’t have time to play nice.

“Dr. Carl Booker is the head of Neurology. I’m sure he will be in touch immediately.” The good doctor backed out of the room at triple-speed. It would have been comical if the situation didn’t totally suck.

“Really, Zolt,” Irelyn said and punched me in the arm.

“Ouch! You punch hard for a girl,” I said, rubbing my arm.

“Was that necessary? First, you acted like a Neanderthal—”

“You didn’t see how he ogled you as if you were a tall drink of water and he was dying of thirst. Not only that, but this is Brody.” I heard my voice break, and I stared off into the distance.

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