Digging Deep

by Jay Hogan

  Oh hell no. I was gonna strangle that woman. Please, no one ask.

  “Your what?”

  Drake’s mother. I groaned and a hand covered mine and squeezed. Yes, I was firing again.

  “Keep it down. You’ll wake him up,” Drake said.

  Too late, babe.

  Carmen continued, “In my earlier years I tried to remember as many of my… ah… partners as I could by making―”

  Oh God, associations.

  “―associations. For example, my apostles were still Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but obviously not those ones, although biblical knowledge and all that…”

  Drake choked on a laugh.

  “So creative.” Alison sounded impressed.

  I really needed to have a chat with Drake’s mother.

  “… but my personal highlight were the Spice Girls, all in one night I might add.” Carmen paused dramatically as if awaiting applause.

  I moved from a quick garrotte to a slow lingering death by fire ants.

  “I feel I have to ask you to explain, while at the same time thinking it might be one of those life choices I’ll regret,” Gun said nervously.

  “Life’s not to live safely,” my dad said with a chuckle.

  Gun sighed. “Go on, then, Carmen. Put us out of our misery.”

  “Well,” my friend said with a flourish. “It was easier than you might think. Remember that first Drag Queen Karaoke Contest I entered, Thomas?”

  “How could I forget?”

  The cheery note to my brother’s voice betrayed the fact he was enjoying this immensely. He was in so, so much trouble.

  “Your fairy drag mother demanded you do it before she took you under her wing, right? And… oh my God, now I remember. There was a tribute drag Spice Girls group there. You disappeared, and I spent two hours carrying your damn spare wig around trying to find you?”

  Carmen laughed. “I know. I still feel guilty. Ginger Spice was even a natural….”

  I might have squeaked, and Drake, God bless him, kissed the corner of my mouth. He definitely heard me that time.

  “Hey,” my brother interrupted. “I also remember Caleb getting caught on the dance floor with that queen from Christchurch? She was all over him like white on rice. Then he had to make a run for it from her goliath of a boyfriend.”

  Oh, hell no. Not that story.

  “Oooohhh yes, Miss Mockingbird,” Carmen crooned. “She had the most amazing feather jumpsuit.”

  “Why didn’t I know about this?” Mum asked. “And what were you doing at a gay club, Tom?”

  “Like we were going to tell you, Mum,” Thomas pointed out. “I was Caleb’s wingman and Carmen’s valet. Besides, Caleb was twenty, and I was eighteen. We were legal.”

  “But green as they come,” Carmen added. “Hell, Caleb had never seen so many drag queens in one place. And looking as good as he did, and young and sweet as freshly mown grass, goddamn, it was like leading a lamb to slaughter. I almost felt bad about it.”

  “I always thought you set him up,” Thomas said slyly.

  “Maybe, but to be fair I didn’t know the queen had a boyfriend. I just wanted to expand Caleb’s… horizons.”

  Thomas snorted. “Sure did that. All the way to Market Road. Never seen him run so fast.”

  “He should thank me. People thought he was ballsy as shit. Didn’t hurt that he was young and gorgeous to boot, and most queens would’ve given their back teeth to have a chance at his—”

  “Can you all…?” I croaked myself into silence and had to stop. The room went silent.

  “Caleb?” Drake leaned close. “You with us, sweetheart?”

  I swallowed and tried again. “Can you all just shut up?” I was so done with this circus.

  “Shhh, everyone.” Drake kissed my cheek and I swore he purred.

  Okay, stage two. I peeled my eyelids back and felt the weight of every pair of eyes land on me. The peace lasted less than a few seconds before—

  “Caleb, darling, you’re awake.” Carmen planted a red-lipped kiss on my forehead and a curtain of Chanel fell over my face.

  Once I had her in focus, I pinned her with my best glare. “Yeah, and you’re dead meat, bestie,” I choked out in a brief coughing fit. “Better start running now, princess.”

  Thomas chuckled, so I eyeballed him next, feeling better by the minute. “And as for you, little brother, there aren’t enough words to say how much trouble you’re in.” I paused to take a breath and get some spit circulating round my mouth. “Carmen’s, well, she’s Carmen, it comes with the territory, right? But you…”

  Thomas blanched, or at least I thought he did, the room was taking on an annoying tilt and fucking with my vision.

  “…you and I are gonna have a long talk, some of which will include words like café and voucher and free, understood?”

  THIRTY MINUTES of hilarious but exhausting chaos later, and I finally had Drake to myself. Carmen and Thomas escaped pretty damn smartly, citing Pete waiting back at the motel, though I caught murmurings of a bar down by the river as Carmen talked to her husband on the phone. The three of them were staying one more night before returning to Auckland tomorrow.

  Thankfully Drake’s parents seemed to have survived their initiation by fire into all things Carmen Bendover, and, oh God, I hope no one had mentioned her full name to them except… of course they did. Alison kissed my cheek and Gun patted me on the arm as they left, so I took that as a good sign.

  My parents were the last to go once they’d caught me up on the three days I’d been out of it. Three days. I still couldn’t believe it. And a kidney down. I couldn’t even begin to digest that. Damn concussion. Mum said she’d hang around Whangarei until I was discharged and settled in my apartment. It felt kind of nice to be coddled.

  I was pleased to see the back of everyone. When they realised I’d heard most of their conversation, instead of an apology, they’d nearly pissed themselves laughing. Fuckers. Any longer and I might have lost my rag completely, or worse, joined in. My sutures were definitely not up to that.

  And I was pretty sure I was asleep before they hit the front door of the ward.

  THE NEXT morning, I woke to Drake at my bedside, again. I wondered if he’d moved much in days. I sent him off for breakfast while my nurse got me a little more presentable. He was back in his chair within thirty minutes.

  “Come here, you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m right beside you. Can’t get much closer.”

  “Don’t argue with me and get those lips within snagging distance. I’m in pain here.” I gave him my best pout.

  He snorted and pushed back his chair. A pair of chocolate eyes swam into view and hovered inches from my face. Silky black hair fell soft around my cheeks and the scent of apples drifted between us. He leaned in and pressed a pair of warm dry lips against mine and warmth coursed through my body. I sighed into the kiss, hoping against hope that the attention of the nurse had polished up my breath a little but I wouldn’t have bet on it.

  I couldn’t mount the energy to do much in the way of kiss back, just opened my mouth to Drake’s tease, and let the feel and the taste of him melt through the pain and uncertainty gripping my heart. I wouldn’t have been brave enough to venture inside the dank domain that was my current oral cavity, but he was clearly a better man than me. Not everything that had happened before the knifing was clear to me, but I remembered most of our talk before I left. I still had so many questions about him, about me, and I wasn’t sure I had all the answers. But for now it was enough that Drake was here, and I was gonna enjoy every moment I had with him.

  Too soon he pulled back, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nice to have you back, detective.”

  I grinned. “Nice to be back. There’s a million things I want to ask, but the most important is, how are you?”

  His eyes widened and he stared at me. The soft lines between his brows deepened, and with a little more study, I saw what I’d missed first
time around, a bone deep weariness. It was carved sharply into his gaze, his cheekbones standing too proud like cut glass, jawline tense, lips peeling, and that magic hair soft but duller than I remembered. He hurt, and every line on his face stood testament to that. I wanted to reach out and smooth those troubles. I wanted to ease the tightness around his eyes. I wanted his smile. I wanted… him. Yeah, so much trouble.

  “Really?” He sounded so surprised, I had to smile. “You’re lying in hospital after an arrest gone wrong, after surgery you have little idea about, postconcussion, and you want to know about me?”

  I held his gaze. “Yes. That’s exactly what I want to know, so, how about an answer.”

  He stared a moment longer, then fell back in his chair with a sigh, still holding my hand. I shuffled on my side to face him more directly, swallowing a groan from the searing pain that lanced up my back.

  Drake’s expression turned to concern. “You need something for pain, babe?”

  “Nah. It’ll settle. What I need is for my head to work better and more drugs aren’t gonna help with that. Now talk.”

  He reached again for my hand, and tucked it into his for safekeeping. “Short answer. I’m improving. In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t run for the bathroom in at least an hour, so go me, right?”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t do that, Drake. Not to me. You look like crap. I thought we were gonna be honest with each other. Are you eating? You don’t look to have put on any weight. What aren’t you saying?”

  He straightened in his chair. “Hey. Back off, Mister I-want-a-chance-with-you-but-I-need-to-get-stabbed-lose-a-kidney-and-scare-the-shit-out-of-you-first.” He dropped my hand. “I’ve been a bit too busy being worried out of my fucking mind to focus on growing my waistline, all right?”

  Shit. Way to go, idiot. “That was hardly my fault,” I griped.

  “And this isn’t mine,” he bit back, waving a hand over himself.

  Silence filled the room.

  Fuck. “True. That was out of line.”

  “Can we blame it on the drugs?” I batted my lashes at him.

  He snorted and kissed my cheek. “Absolutely, but I take your point. And being honest? I’m drinking fluids fine. Eating is a work in progress and I still need supplementary IV calorie top-ups. They’re gonna stop those tomorrow and leave the access port in place just in case.

  “The pain and spasms are still there, but the really bad episodes are less frequent, only a few times a day. They still send me to my bed, but I get to leave it again. Doctors still don’t know about that section of colon they’re worried about, but that decision is on hold till things settle. The new biologic seems to be working, which is the best news. And no, I haven’t put on any weight… but more importantly, I haven’t lost any more either.” He eyeballed me pointedly. “Satisfied?”

  I grinned sheepishly. “Thanks. Sounds like you’ve turned the corner.”

  “Fingers crossed. They’re sending me home tomorrow.”

  My stomach dropped. “But you’re not well enough, you’re so thin….”

  He threw up his hands to silence me. “I’m ready. There’s nothing they can do for me here that I can’t do at home, and I get a district nurse daily for a bit.”

  And there was that silence again.

  I swallowed hard and took his hand. “Okay. I guess that’s a good thing, then.”

  He grinned. “It is. I’ll heal faster at home.”

  Lifting his hand, I pressed my chapped lips to his palm. His eyes tracked the movement with a shy smile. “So, um… I seem to remember you being here each time I woke.”

  His expression softened. “Yeah. I might have earned a few frequent flyer miles running between the two wards.”

  “But what about your treatments and… shit?” I grinned. “Literally… that.”

  His cheeks flushed on skin that was currently more sallow than olive. “Only you would joke about that, idiot. I rang for an orderly to take me back when I was needed, and a few of the nurses actually came down here, but yeah, I’ve been sleeping in the chair. And as for the other?” He grinned hugely. “I pulled some strings and got them to move you to a room across from the bathroom, fancy that.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I felt. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and let him know just how grateful I was, how much it meant to me, how much he meant to me, but we hadn’t solved all our problems yet, not by half. I hoped we were on track and everything Drake said indicated that, but there were still lots of questions, even more now I was down a kidney.

  I wasn’t sure what that meant for my job, but all sorts of things were floating through my muddled brain. And that was another thing. The damn concussion. I couldn’t think straight. My head was a pile of trash.

  “Hey,” he said, eyes dancing nervously around the room before landing back on mine. “I’ve been thinking. If things go well, you’re supposed to be discharged in a few days, and I’m heading out tomorrow. What don’t we save the District Health Board some money and look after each other at your place? I mean, you have two bathrooms, right?”

  I froze and the shock must have shown on my face because he slipped his hand from mine and his gaze shuttered down. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to react like that. He’d just surprised me. With the state of my head and fractured memories, to me it only seemed like yesterday he’d pushed me away and then we’d had that talk. I didn’t have a good grip on where we were.

  “Only if you want to, of course,” he said quietly. “That is… I dunno… it was just an idea.”

  Yes. No. Holy crap. I did want that, more than anything but… ugh… what was he actually asking? Were we friends? Boyfriends? Invalids-in-arms? The last thing I wanted was for us to fall back together just because we’d both been through some shit and needed support. I didn’t want Drake’s support, I wanted his heart and I wanted him to accept mine, all cards on the table, nothing default about it. Fuck.

  He watched guardedly. “Forget it. I can see it was a stupid idea.”

  “It wasn’t.” Ugh. I had to get this right. “I love the idea, Drake. You know how I feel about you. But… just hear me out, please?”

  He grimaced. “Why do I think I’m not gonna like this?”

  I took a deep breath. “Firstly, my head’s a fucking mess. I can’t get my memories straight. Don’t get me wrong, I remember our talk, but it’s all muddled with you throwing me out and the knifing and shit. Nothing’s clear. It’s like there’s no timeline, just a jumble of feelings. When I was half out of it, sometimes I could hear you talking. You called me your boyfriend, and all the nurses used that term about us too.” I paused.

  His brows peaked. “And…?”

  “I love that you did that, and it’s absolutely what I want for us, what I asked for before I left that day….”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  I smiled. “But… all we really agreed was to try again and keep the door open, not make decisions too soon. Boyfriends, yes. God, I love that. But all of those questions you threw at me about not knowing the ‘flaring Drake,’ they’re still there. And you can’t change that quickly either in how you handle things. We didn’t solve anything—”

  “I know,” he broke in. “But when they told me you’d been stabbed, everything I’d argued about seemed so fucking ridiculous. I’d put all those stupid barriers in the way, and then I nearly fucking lost you. I was such an idiot, Caleb.”

  “No, no you weren’t. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

  He got to his feet. “What? Are you saying you don’t want me now? Jesus, Caleb, are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No. Drake, stop. You’re not listening.”

  He chewed his bottom lip in silence, and once again I heard those shutters fall one by one. But he didn’t leave, so that meant something, right?

  “Sit, please?” I begged him.

  He did, though he made no move to pick up my hand again. The cool wariness was like a physical blow to my chest, but I
guess I deserved it. I barely understood what I was doing myself.

  “I want you,” he said simply, barely a whisper, the strain it was taking to hold my gaze written all over his face. He was laying his heart on the table. He was scared. “It’s taken me too fucking long to say it and I know I screwed up but I want you.”

  And fuck me if I didn’t just want to bury all my concerns and take him up on his offer right then and there. I swallowed hard. “I want you too, you know that.” I did, so much it nearly suffocated me.

  “It took almost losing you for me to finally get it,” he added. “Sitting with you the last few days, I finally understood what it meant to be desperate to help the person you care about, willing to do anything for them. Nothing seemed too hard or too messy.”

  I nodded. I understood perfectly.

  He continued, “I’ve only ever been on one side of this equation, the part where I’m the one with the health problem and people… well, I’ve been let down. This time, I was the one watching, and I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for you, whatever it took. And it made me think about what I’d said to you that day. I understood how much I’d hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry, Caleb. But it also made me realise that it’s possible for someone to feel that way about me too. I was hoping that someone might be you.”

  Neither of us had mentioned the L word. It hovered unspoken between us nonetheless. But it was still too soon. I would’ve given anything to just say yes, goddammit. But this was too important―he was too important.

  “Jesus, Drake. Talk about blindsiding someone.”

  He didn’t laugh. He didn’t do anything.

  Okay, then. “Just to be clear, I want to say that I’m hoping that person is me as well. Period.”

  He sighed and slid down in his chair, his eyes dark pools of disappointment. “But you’re not sure.”

  I steeled my expression. “Don’t put words in my mouth, and for fuck’s sake hold my damn hand.” I reached out and he took it. A small win. We held each other’s eyes; a world was said in that one heart-dragging look.