Brothers Born in Adversity Page 5

  "Close, anyway. It wouldn't be as strong as yours, since I suspect you need the full sentinel package to reach your level. But it would be much better than a normal person's."

  "But I never noticed Steven having it when we were kids," Jim replied, not sure he liked the idea that Steven was similarly inflicted with the gift. "And certainly he'd mention it."

  Blair rolled his eyes. "Jim, you are the worse person in the world to know what's normal. Hell, you still can't figure out when you're seeing something none of the rest of us can. Plus touch is subtle. Steven could have enhanced touch, but since he's always had it, he has no way of knowing it's different from anybody else."

  "We also had the same father," Jim muttered darkly.

  "Sure, Ellison men need to be strong. Can't be touchy feely, would make you look weak," Blair played along. "Steven could have either repressed it like you, or naturally developed a strong control on it. But lately he's been exhausted, stressed, and then fed a drug that enhances the very sense he's struggling with."

  "Spinning it out of control." Jim again looked worriedly down the hall. "In the ambulance, when he was fighting the IV, he said it felt like a stick up his arm." Jim met Blair's eyes. "That's how it feels to me when my senses are out of control. And in the office, he was fascinated by my jacket. One of the reason I bought it was because of how good it felt."

  "It's also a good bet he's going to have problems with other drugs." Blair shook his head. "Good thing neither of you got into the drug scene. It's quite likely you wouldn't have survived. In fact, maybe you both have a natural aversion to them, in order to protect your senses."

  Before Jim could ask another question, an older woman in a nurse's uniform walked up. "Detective Ellison? I can take you to your brother now."

  "Go ahead, Jim," Blair urged him. "I'll check with Rafe and see if they found anything at the office."

  Gratefully clapping Blair on the shoulder, Jim followed the nurse to his brother.

  Early Thursday morning, hospital

  "Jim?"

  The bewildered voice aroused Jim from his doze. Rubbing his eyes, Jim looked to find Steven blinking sleepily at him. He leaned over to raise the head of the bed for him. "Hey Stevie, how you feeling?"

  "Tired. Sick. Like I'm getting over the flu or something." Steven glanced around, blinking as a shiver ran through him. "This is probably a dumb question, but where am I?"

  Jim leaned over, pulling up the blanket to cover his brother's shoulders. Steven still looked too pale for the sentinel's peace of mind. "You're at the hospital."

  Pale blue eyes pinned Jim's calmly, though his muscles tightened. "Why am I at the hospital?"

  Jim sighed. "Do you remember anything?" Steven shook his head slightly, eyes still maintaining contact with his brother's. "Because someone slipped you a drug and you had a very bad reaction to it."

  "I did?" Steven managed to free a hand and rub his face a moment. "I, I remember sending Ms. Lancin off to her concert. I was finishing up the presentations, making slides as I went in case something went wrong with the laptop..." Steven sighed. "Everything gets kinda fuzzy after that."

  "Sandburg said you might have trouble remembering," Jim commented.

  "Wait." Steven blinked for a moment. "The coffee I made a few hours after Lancin left. It tasted funny."

  Jim nodded. "That was it."

  Steven glanced down, staring at the blanket. "She did this, didn't she?"

  Jim didn't need to ask who 'she' was. "We think so."

  "Why?"

  Jim clenched his jaw a moment. "We suspect she wanted to abduct you, and slipped you a drug that would have made you easier to handle. Only it hit you harder than she probably anticipated."

  "Damn." Anger struggled with fear a moment. "Meaning if I hadn't reacted the way I did, she'd have me right now?"

  "No," Jim assured him. "Blair and I were right there. We would have stopped her."

  Steven's hand tightened around a section of blanket and squeezed. "What time is it?"

  "Almost seven."

  "Seven what?"

  "A.M. Thursday morning."

  "What?" Steven shot to a sitting position on the bed, only to curl over as his stomach protested.

  "Easy." Jim rubbed the tense shoulder.

  "Easy nothing," Steven gasped. "I've got to get to work, now."

  "You're not going anywhere until the doctor releases you."

  "You don't understand." Steven glanced around the room. "Where's my clothes?"

  "You're the one not understanding," Jim retorted. "You were pretty sick last night, Steven. You even stopped breathing once." Steven turned his attention to Jim, eyes growing wide. "After scaring the hell out of me, you WILL listen to your doctors and follow their directions to the letter. Hell, if it's that important, I'll send Blair to do your presentation. He had all that experience as a TA."

  Still feeling lightheaded and nauseated, Steven reluctantly laid back down. "Only if you can get him into a tie and lose the earrings." He hissed as he shifted the arm with the IV.

  Jim chuckled, glad to see his brother being reasonable. "As long you don't ask him to cut his hair again. Took him forever to grow it out after the academy. I got tired of people asking if he was my partner or little orphan Andy."

  Steven chuckled too, realizing his eyes were getting heavier. Suddenly, a thought hit him. "You..." the younger man paused to swallow, hating to admit his weakness but needing to ask. "You sticking around?"

  "I'm guarding your back until you're on your feet again," Jim assured him, gently rubbing his shoulder. "And I have a few ideas on how we can catch this stalker once you're hitting on all cylinders again."

  "Good," Steven yawned as his eyes closed. Jim's comforting hand eased him into sleep.

  Waiting room

  "...drug addicts in our company!"

  "Steven Ellison is NOT a drug addict. I've known the guy for three years, and in all that time, he's rarely drank more than two beers. He most certainly doesn't take drugs."

  Blair sat up on the plastic couch. He had a pretty good idea who was coming down the hall.

  "Then explain THIS? Good God, he ODed the night before Mr. Gafkin and the others arrived in the U.S.! You do understand how bad this looks?" Blair wasn't surprised to see Dory Jamison enter the room.

  "He didn't 'OD'." Jake Wilson was right next to her. Blair could see the anger on his face. "They said he had a bad reaction to something." Another tall, older man with gray hair silently walked behind the arguing pair. Blair couldn't read a thing on his poker face.

  "A reaction to what? Coffee?"

  Blair could feel his anger rise. Steven nearly died last night due to an unexpected attack while he was working late hours trying to do his best for his company. Only now this woman was trying to destroy his reputation. Steven didn't deserve that. What he needed was peace and quiet.

  Before the feuding pair could reach the doors leading to the patient rooms, Blair stepped in front of them. "Hold it."

  Dory gave him a glare. "What do you think you are doing?"

  Blair didn't move an inch. "It is only a little after seven o'clock in the morning and Steven Ellison is sleeping right now." Blair ignored her snort of disgust . "He had a very rough night, and you are not going to wake him up."

  "We need to speak with him," Jake told him firmly. "It's very important."

  "At this moment, Steven's health is more important," Blair firmly declared.

  "And why do you think YOU can tell us anything?" Dory sneered. She examined the long hair, jeans, and the rumpled, blue checked flannel shirt in disgust.

  "Because you don't want to deal with me." Everyone looked up to see Jim Ellison standing slightly behind his partner glaring at them. Ice seemed to flow from the furious blue eyes. "My brother is asleep. You may see him once he's well enough to return to work."

  "Mr. Ellison?" The older man stepped between the two VPs, his voice carrying a slight accent. "How is Steven?"

  Noting the real
concern reflected in the eyes before him, Jim thawed slightly. "He's still pretty shaky, but the doctor said he's out of danger, Mr...?"

  "Gafkin." The confident man held out a hand.

  "Detective James Ellison," Jim replied. Blair lifted an eyebrow. When Jim trotted out his full title, he was asserting his authority.

  "Steven is a good man," Gafkin commented with a smile. "I can see it must be a family trait. May we talk a moment?"

  Jim indicated a quiet corner with his head. Leaving Blair to keep the other two from storming Steven's room, he walked over with the company head. "Sir?"

  "I am glad Steven is doing better," Gafkin began. "I've talked with him several times, and he has always impressed me with his honor and integrity. Which is why I'm worried about what happened here. I understand the police are involved?"

  Jim nodded. "Steven has been stalked the past few months. We suspect this incident is connected."

  "Connected how?"

  Jim swiftly explained the situation. "I was concerned earlier about the security of the Burbank complex. Now I'm very concerned about my brother's safety there."

  "I can take care of that," Gafkin replied, anger also brewing in his eyes.

  Jim decided to see how much further he could push. "When Steven woke up earlier, he was worried about his presentation today."

  Gafkin waved him off. "He does a good job with his weekly reports, so I know what's going on with his projects. There are other projects we're more concerned about." The man sent a measuring look at the two VPs arguing with Blair. "At this point, I'd rather he take a couple of days off and get back on his feet again. Tell him to have whichever secretary he has working for him this week to send me the Powerpoint file later."

  Jim nodded. "I appreciate that, sir, and I'm sure Steven will, too."

  "Just take care of that young man for me. He has tremendous potential with Griffin Enterprises. I'd hate to lose him."

  "Don't worry, sir," Jim replied with a faint smile. "My partner and I have no intention of letting anything more happen to Steven."

  "Then I suspect he'll be safe." Gafkin then marched over to his people. "Let's go."

  "But..." Dory began, waving a hand at Blair.

  "No buts. Ellison needs to recover, and you both need to be ready in an hour for the meetings." With that reminder, both VPs followed Gafkin out the door.

  Blair watched them leave. "Does Steven have to make the meeting?"

  Jim smiled, pleased with himself. "Nope. In fact, Gafkin gave him the next couple of days off."

  "Cool." Blair glanced at his partner. "How'd you manage that?"

  "Apparently, Steven's more valuable to him than those two."

  Blair chuckled as a nurse approached them, carrying a large arrangement of red and yellow roses. "Detective Ellison? This just arrived for your brother."

  Frowning, Jim took the clear glass vase as Blair snagged the card. Opening it, Blair read, "I'm sorry our night together was ruined by your brother. I promise to make it up to you next time."

  "Damn." Jim resisted an urge to throw the vase against a wall. "She tries giving Steven that crud again, he might not make it."

  "I'll check up on this, see if I can get a lead," Blair told him. "Are you going to take Steven home?"

  Jim shook his head. "She already sent him something there, and most likely knows his phone number."

  "Yeah," Blair nodded, "even if it's not her, Steven's going to be jumpy every time the phone rings. So you taking him to our place?"

  Jim again shook his head. "I've got the keys to our father's cabin. Steven loved that place when we were kids."

  "Has he been back there since?" Blair asked, curious.

  "No," Jim sighed. "Steven and our father haven't talked since Steven graduated from college. Dad disapproved of the job Steven accepted, and Steven refused the offer from Dad's company."

  Blair stared at Jim. "They haven't talked since then? Man, they're as bad as you."

  Jim shrugged. "Pop reaped what he sowed. In any case, it's out of the way so Steven can rest without worrying about that woman."

  Mid morning Thursday, Ellison cabin

  Sitting on the sunny porch step, Steven quietly stared at the cup of tea in his hands instead of the beautiful fall view. "So, you're saying I have a heightened sense of touch?"

  Blair nodded eagerly. "We can do some tests to make sure. But after last night, I'd bet on it."

  Steven didn't look nearly so happy. "So this means that injuries like my shoulder are going to hurt no matter what?"

  "There's ways to control it," Blair assured him.

  "Like you did with Jim at Lucille's the other night?" Steven continued to stare at the cup. He could feel the faint cracks and bumps in the ceramic glaze, with the raised lines denoting the leaf pattern. The warmth from the tea seeped into his palm while his finger traced a small indentation on the rim. Couldn't everyone feel that? How much of that was only something he and Jim could feel?

  "Pretty much. I can teach you a couple of meditation methods that should help. And as a side benefit, they'll help relieve some of your stress."

  Standing in the doorway, Jim noticed that Steven didn't look all that impressed. Not that he could blame his younger brother. He knew from experience what it was like to have senses unlike anyone else's. "Hey Sandburg, your soup's starting to boil."

  "What?" Blair bounced up. "Thanks, Jim." He darted into the kitchen.

  Steven watched the younger man dash through the back door. "He always this enthusiastic?" he asked.

  "Yeah." Jim took the seat Blair vacated. "You should try living with him."

  "No, thanks," Steven remarked with a slight smile. "I'll leave him to you."

  Jim stared at his brother a moment. "How are you doing, really?"

  Steven shrugged. "I don't know. I still have that woman after me, and now I find out I nearly died last night because I have a heightened sense of touch." He snorted. "You know, I've wondered what it would be like to have your gifts, to hear things and see things no one else can. It would be so useful to be able to hear a brace about to go, smell smoke before a fire broke out, or see a crack before it really got a chance to do some damage. But instead of a cool sense like that, I get stuck with one that's more a pain than anything worthwhile."

  "I don't know about that," Jim leaned back in the chair. "Actually, my sense of touch is probably the one that gives me the most pleasure. Like out here. Do you feel that breeze?"

  Steven closed his eyes. "Yeah."

  Jim, fleetingly wishing he had his partner's way with words, gently asked, "Doesn't it feel good, especially as it takes away the heat of the sun off your skin?"

  "Yeah," Steven admitted.

  Before Jim could continue, a sound caught his attention. It was a car driving up the private road to the cabin. "Steven, head for the bedroom. Tell Sandburg there's a car coming."

  Steven's eyes blinked open. "Any idea who?"

  "Not at the moment." Jim walked through the cabin to the front step, only to nearly groan when he recognized the large car bouncing down the dirt track. Steven did NOT need this. Impatiently, he waited for it to park next to his truck, and the gray-haired occupant to step out. "What are you doing here, Pop?"

  "Jimmy." William Ellison ignored the question until he had reached the porch. "How is Stevie? I heard that he was nearly killed last night in his office."

  Before Jim could open his mouth, Steven's voice replied coldly, "Why should you care?"

  "Stevie?" William's eyes lit up eagerly, soaking up the sight of his younger son standing in the doorway.

  Steven didn't noticed, too caught up in his own building emotion. "I'm fine, I'm staying with Griffin Enterprises, so you can go home and ignore me for another thirteen years."

  William stood upright, his own anger growing. "You are in my cabin, Steven. You could at least address me civilly."

  "Go to hell, old man." Steven coldly turned away, fury boiling on his face. He stormed through the cabin and o
ut the back door. William didn't need Jim's heightened senses to hear the bang as the wooden frame slammed into place.

  "Damn," Jim glared at his father. "Your timing is as bad as always." Jim turned to chase his brother, leaving Blair to stare at William in bewilderment.

  He didn't have to go far. Just down the hill from the cabin was a large rock next to a stream. As kids, they used to play with their plastic soldiers all up and down it's uneven surface. Jim found Steven perched on it, tearing up a bright red and orange leaf as he stared at the rushing water. For a moment, he studied the younger man. Steven was still pale from his recent poisoning, exhaustion more noticeable on his young face and in the slump of his shoulders. His hands shook slightly while his fingers carefully tore the leaf along the veins. He looked so alone and desolated. Jim suddenly recognized a lot of himself as he used to be in his brother. He quietly walked over and sat next to him.

  Neither spoke for nearly a minute. Then Steven softly asked, "Should I get ready to leave?"

  "No." Jim shook his head. "Though you sure didn't help matters any."

  Steven ran a finger along the skeletal remains of the leaf. "Why should it be any different? I used to try so hard to please him, but nothing I've done has ever been good enough for him. If I got a B, I should have gotten an A. If I got an A, I should have gotten an A+. I always joined the wrong clubs, took the wrong electives, pledged the wrong Frat." He sighed as he twirled the stem in his fingers, feeling the stretch of its flexibility vibrate on his skin. "It was even worse after you left, Jim. He only had me to concentrate on, and I just never made the grade."

  "Yeah, you did." Jim reached over to drape a comforting arm around Steven's shoulders. "He just never told you before. He might now, though."

  Disbelief and bitterness colored Steven's voice. "You sure about that?"

  "All I can say is that I was surprised at how he had changed when I saw him for the first time a couple of years ago. He really wanted to reach out to me. I think he was trying to reach out to you just now."

  "Why?"

  Jim shrugged. "He heard you nearly died last night, which is true, I might add." He tightened his arm around his brother, thankful to feel the warmth of his body and the slight movement of his chest as Steven breathed. "Maybe he just realized you could die before he does, and he'd never have a chance to see you again."