“Where’s Beauchamp?”
“The fuck do you care? They picked him up hours ago. His dad is wanted in some kind of international shit. Probably running heroin on the fucking boat. Jesus Christ, I do not need this shit.”
“Is his lawyer with him?”
“A big fucking fuck do I know or care about who’s holding his hand. I called to tell you you are on my shit list, Fonoti. Next time I see you, you better duck, you big bastard, because my fist is headed for your ugly face.” DiBlasi hung up.
Tai jumped off the bed, pulling on jeans and a shirt. Shit. Why couldn’t he remember David’s lawyer from the file? Why hadn’t he skipped all the crap about trust, about letting David tell him what he needed, and copied all the contacts from his phone?
Tai didn’t even know Gavin’s number. But that Tai knew how to get. As he waited for someone at the Dundalk Precinct to pick up, he prayed David had enough sense to keep his mouth shut and ask for a lawyer. He’d been arrested before. Except this was David. Who honestly believed that with charm and a smile, he could be excused from anything.
Christ, if you’re ever going to find some common sense, David, now would be a good time to do it.
AS THE agents turned back to Beach, the door was shoved open the rest of the way and Algernon Butler, Esquire shoved himself in too. His baby brother Gilbert had gone to school with Beach, and Al was a pretty damned good lawyer. He’d gotten Beach loose when the DA labeled him a high flight risk. But as nightmarish as the last twelve hours had been, Beach was sure he hadn’t called Al—or anyone else, for that matter.
“Why is my client being questioned without counsel, and what happened to his hand?”
“He never asked for counsel.” Duprey scooped up the pictures and papers and put them back in the folder.
“Was it offered?”
“He is not under arrest at the present.”
“Then he’ll be leaving,” Al said.
Normally Beach would be off and running. But a sickening and unfamiliar inertia held him in the chair. None of it mattered. All that mattered was keeping his father from—Beach swallowed back bile—from touching another child. “Al, I want to tell them—”
Al held up his hand. “Not a word, Beach. What happened to my client’s hand?”
Beach glanced down. Something had happened underneath the layers of gauze, because there were fresh spots of blood.
“He told us he punched a mirror,” Wallace said.
“Al, I don’t really care. I just want to—”
“Mr. Beauchamp,” Al began in a voice that drowned out the rest of the room, “is clearly acting with diminished capacity, as the attempt at self-harm indicates. I doubt anything he has revealed will be considered admissible.”
Duprey’s narrow gaze turned on Beach. “So you’re just going to let your dad keep getting away with it?”
“No.” Beach pushed away from the table and leaned in close to Al. “They said they’d drop the charges if I told them where my father went.”
“I need a moment to confer with my client. And we’re going to need to talk to the prosecutor about any deals,” Al told the agents.
It was another hour at least before Al would let Beach tell Special Agent Wallace that Dad had taken the Nancy and was headed in the direction of the Bahamas. The Nancy had all the latest in GPS tracking in case of theft. There was no chance he’d be able to disappear. Even after he’d made his statement, under Al’s assurances that they’d force a trial if they tried to hit him with anything but probation on the harboring charge, Beach stayed deep in boneless lethargy.
Not the good feeling when he gave up control to Tai. That still had an energy to it, an awareness and focus despite the floating sensation.
This was utter apathy. He let Al call the shots, moving and speaking like a puppet. The prosecutor declined to file charges at present, trusting his current release status would keep him available for further questions.
Even Al’s rant at him about knowing better than to answer questions without a lawyer and why the hell hadn’t he called when his father first showed up didn’t spark much of a defensive protest. It wasn’t anything Beach couldn’t tell himself—hadn’t already told himself. Though the personal consequences were proving far more difficult to live with than the potential criminal ones.
AT LAST he was released to find Gavin waiting, looking completely out of place among the dingy seventies-style cement-and-glass lobby.
“If it isn’t my fairy godmother.”
Gavin rolled his eyes. “I prefer deus ex machina.”
“Thanks for calling Al, my god machine, but how did you know I was there?”
A crash bar slammed against a door off to the side, and Beach looked up just in time to see Tai disappear through it.
“Tai. Wait. Please.” Beach took off in that direction, but Gavin dragged him to a stop before he reached the door marked Official Personnel Only.
“I’ll tell them I left my—”
“Jesus Christ, Beach, we just got you out of there. I am not letting you go back.”
“You act like it’s the ninth circle of Hell. It’s only—”
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
Beach stopped trying to pick Gavin’s hands off his arms. “He—” It hurt too much to repeat, words sharp as glass slicing curves through his lungs. But he forced himself to ask, “He told you that?”
Gavin maintained his grip as he nodded.
“Then what the hell was he doing here?”
“I think he wanted to make sure you were okay. He’s the one who called me, told me the cops had picked you up, said you needed your lawyer called right away before you ended up locked in prison for the rest of your life.”
Then how could he not want to see me? Why bother if he’s done with me?
“God, Beach, what did you do? Who did you fight with?” Gavin looked at his hand.
“No one worth mentioning.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
TAI’S 2:00 p.m. voicemail from David went, “I don’t even know where to start to apologize. It got out of control so fast. I hope nothing happened to cause problems with your job.”
His job? That was what David was worried about?
DiBlasi had taken the rest of the day off, so Tai didn’t have to watch out for retribution.
So far, he was Teflon. Nothing in David’s explosion of family crap had stuck to Tai.
At four thirty the voicemail said, “I would like to offer an apology in person. If you don’t want to come here, I could meet you somewhere after work. Just tell me what to do here.”
How lucky was the bastard that the here wasn’t lockup. That he was free to roam around until his next selfish choice dragged in friends and innocent bystanders.
The voicemail at eight was almost the last one his phone would ever be able to take. A pause so long Tai thought David was going to let it go like that, silent, and then, “Sir. Please. I can’t—” David’s swallow was audible and then he disconnected.
Fiery need and icy rage battled along the nerves under Tai’s skin. His David. That betrayal. The plastic housing on the phone cracked, and Tai dropped it like it burned him, shoving it away from him on the couch.
Jez picked her head up off his thigh, ears raised. “How? How can I make it work if he can’t even see what he did?”
She huffed a deep sigh and settled her head back down. He stroked her ears. “It’s just you and me, Jez. Donte, Sammie. I’m not settling for almost again.”
Six hours later Tai was still awake. The window unit AC couldn’t do much when it was swamp-humid and still eighty degrees long after midnight. Jez was parked underneath it. Sprawled out on his bed, sweating from every pore, Tai thought about joining her.
He got as far as considering a shower first when his phone rang. After hours of silence, he’d wondered if David had given up, but his name—and that grin—popped up on the screen.
“What?”
“Uh, ah, oh. It’s
you.” Live, David’s voice was harder to resist. The surprise, undeniable relief. Tai wanted to watch those feelings in David’s beautiful eyes.
“You called my phone.”
“Right. I did.”
“Just wanted to recite some vowel sounds at two in the morning?”
“No.”
“Well?” Tai prompted after a minute of silence.
“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”
“Well, that we can agree on.”
“Do you—? You called Gavin—I thought—You do care about me?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking that.”
“I miss you. And I need Sir. I feel like I don’t know how I work anymore without knowing that’s there.”
And whose fault was that? Tai sat up. “Selfish much?”
“What?”
“You can’t start a sentence without I, can you?”
“I guess not.” There was a trace of David’s humor there, but warped into something so broken Tai had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for him, reassuring him. Then David came back at him. “But you’re the one who told me to stop hiding. To tell you what I was feeling.”
“You’re right. I’m not saying I was perfect here. I thought I was a good Dom for you.”
“You are.”
“If I was, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”
“Where are we? I’m sorry. I don’t know how to prove to you that I know—God, I helped that disgusting—I feel like shit and I can’t—Please.”
Tai felt the pull, like David was there at Tai’s feet. The tug to take away what his boy was suffering. Make it right. And when the next time came for David to choose between easy and right—what then?
Pressure squeezed tight at the base of Tai’s skull, everything hot and heavy, making it impossible to breathe. “I’m sorry too. But right now, I need some time. Some space.”
“You know—you know I didn’t choose him—I wouldn’t choose anyone over you.” But in a way he had.
“Give me some time, David. Good night.”
BEACH OPENED the hotel suite door to Gavin’s knock.
“Since when do you turn down an invitation to go anywhere?” Gavin strode in and took up a seat on the couch with the air of a man who was not leaving until he was good and ready.
“Since it sounds like a snoozefest.” Beach had been expecting Gavin to pop up since turning down both the invitation to meet the newest little Montgomery and the earnest plea to come condo shopping, but he didn’t have to like it. It was harder to wallow without bourbon, but he was giving it his best shot.
“Hamish Tolliver Montgomery and mother are doing quite well, thank you for asking.”
“Hamish? Good luck at school, kid.”
“It’s impossible not to want to call him Hammie, as he looks like a freshly boiled haunch, down to the curse of red hair.”
“Thought you liked redheads.”
“And I therefore know that my half brother already has a chip on his shoulder. I am removing myself to a new address posthaste.”
“Why don’t you move in with Jamie?” Beach slunk into the opposite corner of the couch. “Don’t you practically live there already?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
Beach’s eyes widened. He wasn’t overly fond of Gavin’s choice of boyfriend, but seeing them make eyes at each other left no doubt things went deeper than skin. And somebody ought to be happy.
Gavin shrugged. “It’s just about an address. We’re comfortable with things the way they are.”
Right. What did Beach know about successful relationships? The only two he’d ever put effort into had blown up in his face. Speaking of, “They caught him.”
“Who?” Gavin asked, as if there were another criminal apprehension Beach might be mentioning.
“My father. Al says if we don’t contest the forfeiture of the money and the Nancy, they’ll drop any aiding-and-abetting charges, so I’m back to just my original criminal trespass sentencing on Tuesday.” Beach picked at the edges of tape holding down the gauze on his hand. Al said it would be Beach’s own doctor taking out the stitches next week, but hedging his bets, Al also added that the worst-case scenario was thirty days in jail. Beach found himself surprisingly uninterested in the outcome.
“The Nancy? Oh, Beach, I’m so sorry.”
It wasn’t as if he could fit the cuff over the big wad of gauze. But he couldn’t bring himself to put on the other one. He’d lost the right to wear it.
He dragged up a smile for Gavin. “Yeah. She was a good lady. But I can get another boat.”
“True.” Gavin stretched out a leg and kicked Beach’s knee. “You know what else you could easily get. A shower. You look like shit and smell worse.”
Beach held up his bandaged hand. “I ended up tearing two stitches. I’m under dire orders to keep it dry.”
“Nice excuse.” Gavin stomped over to the kitchenette and grabbed a plastic bag that held the leftovers from his trip to the hospital. Tossing aside the bloodstained shirt, he pulled out the discharge directions. “And you were supposed to change this bandage yesterday. Here.” He came back over with the bag. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for that one of the principal owners of Midland-South Health has any bandages or tape in his hotel room.”
“You suppose right.”
“It’s all right, my brother’s a doctor. I can swing it.” Gavin shoved the plastic bag over Beach’s hand and began tying the ends over his wrist.
It hit like a wave. Like the worst kind of sub drop. It shoved him sideways and rolled him under, and he couldn’t breathe. His eyes burned with tears.
Jerking free, he tore off to the bathroom and spun on the shower to full blast as sobs choked his chest. Gone. He’d never ever have that back. Never know what it felt like to put himself in Tai’s—in Sir’s hands and feel the weight and freedom of that control. Never ride that high of endorphins, ache with what Sir wanted him to feel.
And what had he given that up for?
A pedophile of a father. How could he not have known? Because he didn’t want to. It was easier, less complicated not dealing with truth, which was inconvenient and boring and inflexible. He’d hated anything that locked him in with those limits. Black and white, either/or.
Until Tai.
He made the rules worthwhile. Made them mean something besides an obstacle to slide around.
“Beach. C’mon.” Gavin hammered at the door. “Beach. You’re freaking me out.”
He was freaking himself out. How could he never have that again? There wasn’t anything like it. Not X. Not liquor. Not coke. Yeah, there were other Doms out there. A world full of them, men and women, from what he’d learned online. But none of them were Tai.
Beach yanked off his shirt and shoved his head under the spray to get rid of the worst of his tears and snot, though he was pretty sure he’d been crying loud enough for Gavin to hear him.
“I’m fine.” He grabbed for a towel with his unbandaged hand and opened the door a crack. “Showering.”
“Do you need help?”
“I thought you didn’t want me getting into any more trouble with the police. I should think you washing my dick would piss off one in particular.” Beach unfastened his shorts and kicked them away.
“Fine. But I’m staying right here.”
“I’m not going to kill myself, Gavin. I’m only taking a shower.”
“You didn’t see your face.”
Beach didn’t have to. He’d felt it. Could still feel it. He squeezed his eyes and managed a scraping off of funk with one hand.
A few minutes later he yanked open the door, holding the towel at his hip with his plastic-wrapped hand. “See? Everything intact.”
Gavin had perfected a polite demur that at the same time was as clear as an emphatic Says you.
“You get dressed, and we’ll go pick up some supplies to change your bandage.”
“You go play doctor with Sergeant Boyfriend.” Beach s
tripped off the plastic and handed it to Gavin, letting the towel fall to the floor. “I’m fine.” He went into the bedroom and dressed, but he knew Gavin was still out there.
Which became obvious when Gavin said, “So when’s the last time you left the hotel?”
“Let me think, since none of your fucking business.”
Gavin pushed open the door. “So you’re in love with him, huh?”
The flash of anger evaporated. Beach sat on the bed and stared at his bare feet. “I was in love with you once, remember?”
Gavin shrugged then came over and sat beside him. “Guess I’ve always been just that good.”
Beach shoved him—“Ow”—with his bandaged hand.
“And you’ve always been that stupid.” Gavin caught Beach’s wrist, then looked at the knuckles before freeing it. “So when that didn’t work out, what did you do?”
“Became your best friend and told myself it didn’t matter that much.”
“Did you try that this time?”
“No.” Beach cracked his ankles. “I already have a best friend.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I know the D/s freaks you out, but it’s more than that. And at the same time—everything, every thought in me is that I want to be with him. That I need to belong to him.”
“You did seem pretty happy.”
“You thought I was high.”
“Like I said.” Gavin turned his head to study Beach. “You really like him telling you what to do, like with dessert when we went out?”
“I really do.” Beach flopped back on the bed. His leg had begun hurting since he’d stopped doing the exercises. “You know, it’s kind of crazy. Even if by some miracle he forgave me, my life would never be easy again. And I want that. It doesn’t make sense, but I want it.”
“Shit.” Gavin’s voice was oddly urgent. “I guess your fairy godmother needs to dust off her wand.”
TAI GRABBED the phone and kept typing up the probation report. It was hard to keep his mind off David, but doing two things at once helped.
Bad Behavior Page 33
