You Do What You Have To - 47

 

 

"Thank God!" Robin murmured. "If we can close down Tanzer, it will hit Mackenzie where it hurts, in his wallet. Now if we can persuade Tanzer to rat him out about other escort services he sends kids to…"

 

"There is no we, Robin," Hawk said, getting a firm agreeing nod from Falcon. "I already told you, you're out of this for the foreseeable future."

 

"Fuck you!" Robin practically shouted as he tried to stand up. Only Micky's hand on his arm kept him from falling before he sank back down again. The look of pain that suffused his features said more than words that he was hurting badly—in spite of being on painkillers and other meds.

 

"I'm taking you up and putting you to bed," Micky told Robin in no uncertain terms. "Don't try to argue. Right now, for the first time since we met, I'm stronger than you. So I'll throw you over my shoulder if necessary." He heard a snort from Hawk, and an, "That I'd like to see", from Falcon.

 

Robin didn't argue. In fact, much to Micky's amazement, he said, "Thank you," and tried to stand again. With Micky's help, he got to his feet, then, slowly and carefully, they made it up to Robin's bedroom.

 

"You'll probably be better off resting on your stomach," Micky said as he helped Robin undress. It took everything in him not to swear vehemently when he saw the damage to Robin's back and thighs. Bandages covered some of the area, over what he suspected were places where the whip, or whatever Mackenzie had used, had cut deeply through the skin. It seemed as if there wasn't a visible inch from the backs of Robin's legs to his shoulders that hadn't been torn or bruised.

 

There was a soft cough from the doorway, and Falcon came over to hand Micky two bottles of pills, telling him the instructions were on the labels. Turning his attention to Robin, Falcon asked, "Do you want both of us to help you lay down?"

 

"I can do it myself," Robin growled, putting paid to his words when he hissed in agony as he sat on the edge of the bed—and tried to move to lie down on his side. With Micky's and Falcon's help, he was finally on his stomach, one arm under his head, which was turned to face them.

 

"I'll leave you to it, then," Falcon said to Micky. He winked. "Try not to strangle him, as tempting as it might be."

 

"I'll give it my best shot," Micky replied, feeling his face heat up when Falcon looked knowingly at him.

 

After Falcon left, Micky pulled a chair up next to the bed. Impulsively, he brushed back a strand of blond hair that had fallen across Robin's forehead. "I'd ask how you're feeling," he said with a smile, "but I think it's pretty evident."

 

Robin grimaced. "Like hell. Thanks for asking."

 

"One question—and you've probably already told Falcon and Eldon. How did you manage to get away?"

 

"I…really don't know. I vaguely remember passing out after what seemed like hours on… You know what a St Andrew's Cross is?"

 

"I'm presuming you don't mean the one on the Scottish flag, and yes, I do." Micky shivered.

 

"So, as I was saying, I passed out, finally. The next thing I knew, I regained consciousness by my car, in the lot of Mackenzie's club. As far as I can figure, he must have gotten tired of playing, or thought I was beyond reacting. Why he dumped me there is…is well, something I guess I'll never find out. Usually I'd end up in bed. His bed." Robin chuckled, wincing as he did. "Maybe he didn't want to get blood on his sheets."

 

"This isn't a laughing matter."