Free Security by Mike Shade Page B

he seemed to do here was sleep, eat and fuck.
     
If Bay were here? It would be perfect.
     
***
     
Rick paced, the doctor checking Bay out. Damn it. They were going to have to move sooner than he'd thought.
Damn kid had a seizure on him and as soon as the Doc gave him the go ahead? He was going to beat Bay to death.
     
"Is he going to be okay?"
     
The doctor nodded. "He needs his meds. What was he on?"
     
"I don't know. Hold on." He grabbed the phone, dialed Mike. "This is Pat. Get me Alan."
     
They'd be using each others' middle names as pseudonyms for a while, he didn't even hesitate, pacing, waiting for Mike to patch him through.
     
"Yeah?"
     
"You ask that son of a bitch with you what meds his brother was on."
     
"What?"
"Primary Two is in serious condition, seizing. I need fucking information."
     
"Hold up." He heard Simon's growl and then the phone changed hands.
     
"Bay?"
     
"No. What was he on?" He didn't have time to play. "What? What do you mean was? Where the hell is Bay?"
"He's in with the doctor. He had a grand mal seizure. What meds was he on?"
     
"Jesus fuck." Ken made a small noise. "Is he okay? He needs me. Dammit, you assholes had no business separating us!"
     
"Ken. What. Meds. Was. Your. Mother-fucking. Brother. On." He could growl, too.
     
"I don't know!"
     
"You don't know?" He slammed his fist into the wall. "I am going to have to take him to the hospital, Ken, and those assholes looking will find him."
     
There was a half sob on the phone. "I don't know, Rick. Swear to God. It's Fenny something. I think. They kept changing it and I stopped paying attention. Fennytalk or fennytoe or something."
     
He looked at the doc. "Fenny something?"
The doc nodded. "Phenytek."
     
"Phenytek." He shook his head. "It's not on your med file. Why?"
     
"What med file? I thought doctor's records were supposed to be confidential!"
     
"Your father gave them to us in case we needed them." Like now. Asshole.
     
Ken snorted. "He doesn't have access to anything after we turned eighteen."
     
"Are there any other surprises waiting for me?" "No. Is... is he gonna be okay?"
"I've got a doctor here for him. Let me talk to O'Neal." "I wanna talk to him first."
"O'Neal?"
     
"No. Bay! Let me fucking talk to my brother!"
     
"He's not conscious." The kid looked pale, sweaty, exhausted.
     
Ken whimpered. "He needs me. You can't keep keeping us separate."
     
"Let me talk to O'Neal." Now. He was getting tired, worried.
"You listen to me, Rick. You take care of him and if anything happens to him I'm going to make your life so fucking miserable. You and Simon both."
     
"You can't keep us separated!" The last was shouted, like Ken wasn't talking into the phone anymore.
     
"Hey. Everything on track?"
     
Simon sounded unflappable, calm, and he smiled. "No. I'm moving things up."
     
"Three?"
     
"Two. Can you?"
     
"Yep."
     
"You'll beat us. You're in charge of supplies." Simon chuckled. "Sure. I'm not buying beer." "Smokes aren't on the budget either, then." Prick.
"I'm shopping, not you. See you, Pat-baby." The phone went dead.
     
Bay moaned softly shifting. "When can I move him, Doc?"
"He's going to be a bit out of it the next couple of days while his body adjusts back to the meds. As long as you're
prepared in case he has another seizure, you can move him anytime."
     
The doctor wrote out a prescription. "It'll take a couple days for the Phenytek to kick in, but he may not have another seizure before it does. Keep him fed, make sure he gets enough sleep and isn't stressed and that'll help the chances of that not happening."
     
"Okay. I'll handle it." He handed over three hundred dollars. "Thanks for stopping by."
     
"Anytime."
     
The doctor left without so much as a backward glance at the kid.
     
Rick went over, looked down at Bay. "Hey, you awake, kiddo?"
     
Dark lids dragged up, Bay's eyes dull, sad. The kid frowned. "Where's Kenny?"
     
"He's with Simon, remember?" He sat down, hand sliding on Bay's