by Andrew Grey
“If the police have him in their sights now, they’re going to be looking for him all over. Your stepfather isn’t going to get away, not for very long,” Spook said, probably trying to be reassuring, but his expression said something else. “This is almost over. We’ll all need to be careful, but if you ask me, I think that anything Antonio Losquaro was involved in just became too hot for anyone to handle. No one is going to want to work for him and take the chance of getting drawn into whatever mess he’s involved with. Word gets out fast.” Spook sounded so reasonable.
“Okay. So the police are after my stepfather, and according to Traynor, my mom is trying to call me, but of course she doesn’t have my number.” Elliott looked to the rest of them. Salvatore knew his mother wasn’t particularly reliable as far as keeping things to herself.
Spook pulled a phone out of his pack. “This is a number that I registered in California years ago. It will show the call coming in from Los Angeles. Call her on this, and once you’re done talking, I’ll remove the battery and then put the phone away for a while and I can block the number on top of it.”
Elliott told Spook the number, and he dialed it and handed the phone to Elliott. “Mom?” he said questioningly, then lowered the phone, placing it on speaker. “I’m driving, so I have you on speaker.” Dang, the lie was beautiful.
Salvatore leaned closer as he listened.
“The police are after Antonio, and I know all of this is your fault. I don’t know what you did, but you need to make it right. You never liked him, and whatever you said to get them after him… you need to make it stop.” Her frantic tone rang through like a bell, and Salvatore took Elliott’s hand.
“What did they say they think he’s doing?” Elliott asked, and Salvatore nodded to reassure him that playing dumb was the right thing to do.
“Like you don’t know. Smuggling prescription drugs or something,” she said.
Elliott looked to the others. Spook motioned to him, and Elliott muted the line.
“They wouldn’t tell her at this point, especially if he’s a fugitive. She had to have known already,” Spook said. “They might have told her the charges, but they aren’t going to go into detail in case they might want to call her in as well.”
Elliott nodded and pressed the button again. “What do I know about his business? Antonio the asshole never had anything to do with me other than running my life and being a pain in the ass.” He softened his tone. “What are you going to do, Mom?”
Salvatore nodded once again. Putting the emphasis back on her was a good thing.
“I don’t know. He’s gone….” Now the tears were starting, and it was pretty clear that Elliott was conflicted.
Spook leaned closer and muted the phone again. “She’s playing you.” He unmuted the phone.
“I know you took some papers from his office, but you need to get them back and make this go away.” The hard edge returned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m not responsible for Antonio. If he did things that were wrong, then he can pay the price. There’s nothing I can do about it.” Elliott’s gaze seemed stronger, and his shoulders squared. “I wasn’t the one who married him, and now you have to deal with your own crap… as well as his. There isn’t anything I can do.” Elliott sat back. “I have to go now. But I’m okay, so don’t worry about me.” He pressed the End button, and Spook powered down the phone and pulled out the battery, then put it all away.
Elliott seemed to deflate right before him. “She knows what he’s doing.” He slowly lifted his gaze. “For the longest time I wanted to think that she wasn’t involved and that he kept what he was doing from her. But she knows things….”
Spook leaned forward. “Elliott, she’s probably an enabler. She likes her lifestyle and can’t help hearing or seeing things, but she ignores them and makes excuses for him. Just about everyone like your stepfather has someone like her. It’s sad, but I’m willing to bet that Antonio is manipulative and knows how to read just about everyone he meets. He got your mother under his thumb and thinking for him before everyone else even before he married her, I’m willing to bet.”
Elliott nodded and seemed even more defeated. “You’d think my own mother would be more worried about me than about her husband the drug smuggler and God knows what else.”
“She needs help, and I’m willing to bet that once she’s out from under his influence and maybe gets some help, she might return to the person you knew before she married him… at least to a degree.” Salvatore wanted to try to comfort him as much as he could.
“But maybe she won’t,” Elliott said.
Salvatore gathered him in his arms, holding Elliott tightly and trying to give him some time to adjust to the reality of the situation. Spook went back down the hall and into the bedroom, and the door closed softly. Salvatore sat where he was, rocking Elliott slowly, letting him grieve, at least in part, for what he thought he’d lost.
After a while, Elliott pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry for acting like a baby. I knew this was a possibility, and I should have been prepared for it. But I can’t help wondering what it says about me that my mother doesn’t even care that much.” He sniffed softly.
“It says nothing about you and everything about her as a mother. It’s that simple, and has nothing to do with you. It never did. Your mom made her own decisions about what she’d ignore or accept. And she did that with no regard for you.” An edge crept into his voice, and Salvatore realized how angry he was on Elliott’s behalf.
“But what do I do?” Elliott asked.
Salvatore didn’t try to provide a response, because there wasn’t one. That question could only be answered by Elliott and no one else. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be there for you.”
“But you guys always have the answers. Or at least you seem to,” Elliott said, half whining and maybe a little confused otherwise. “You all seem to know what you’re doing, and shit like this doesn’t happen to Bull and Spook.”
“I bet it has,” Salvatore said. “I’ve heard a few stories whispered through the club in a sort of reverent way. But it seems from what I can cobble together that about the time Bull and Zach met, Spook showed up with a beef and went after Bull. It was a little messy, but they worked stuff out. Bull always seems to be involved in something, from what I hear, though he tries to avoid it. Trouble isn’t exclusive to one person or another. It visits all of us at some point.” Salvatore sighed slightly.
“Did it visit you?” Elliott asked.
“Yeah. A week ago, this cute server at the club….” Salvatore winked and smirked at Elliott, trying to add a little levity. “No, seriously… I had more than my share of hardship when I was in the service. A lot of the heavier fighting had ended by the time I was in the hot zones, but I saw lots of people behaving badly to one another. A friend, a pretty close one, was killed, and a number of buddies were injured. Yet the next day I was back out on patrol.” He didn’t want to scare Elliott or bring up all the things he’d seen and done. Sometimes it was best not to talk about it too much. “I have some PTSD, but thankfully it isn’t too bad.”
“I see….” Elliott leaned closer. “Do you know your triggers?”
Salvatore smiled. “Yes. Weird things like the smell of an overdone steak from the mess hall. Those sorts of things can take me back pretty quickly, but I’ve learned what they are and generally I’m prepared for them. Mom helped me through a lot of it. She asked me what my triggers were and then exposed me to every single one in a controlled way. Believe it or not, it helped, though it killed her to overcook a steak….” Salvatore smiled.
“You had support and….” Elliott seemed to crumple again. “All the things I thought I might have had turned out to be air. Pfffft. Even a friend turned out….” He sighed once again.
“I learned to judge people by their actions and behavior. You learn who you can trust to have your back.” Salvatore thought a second and made up his mind. “There was a guy, Jerry, in my unit.
I didn’t get along with him. Don’t even know why, but the two of us just didn’t see eye to eye on anything. I avoided him if I could. Not that he was hostile, just that I didn’t get him and he made me feel sort of itchy.”
“Did you like him?”
Salvatore shook his head. “Not in the way you mean. No. I just didn’t get a read on him, and I don’t think he did on me. Anyway, we were on patrol, and it was a beautiful, quiet day. Then just like that, gunfire. We took cover, and I found myself on the wrong side of an enclosure, pressed up against a crumbling wall with like five inches of cover along the side. As I was figuring how to get my ass out of that hole, it was Jerry who came out shooting with everything he had, and I raced around to the rest of the unit with him right behind me. He had my back all that time, and I’d never even known it.” Salvatore nodded slowly.
“Did you become friends after that?” Elliott asked, and Salvatore pointed to one of the pictures on the wall.
“That’s him and I right there, taken a few days later. He got a medal for what he did, and he deserved it. If Jerry would have judged me by the same standard that I judged him, I might not be alive. It turned out that Jerry was just quiet because he felt he talked funny, so he didn’t say much and kept to himself. He had a slight lisp, that was all, but he had a heart as strong as anything.” Salvatore turned away from the picture. He hoped to hell that Elliott didn’t pursue this conversation any longer. The story didn’t have a happy ending, and the last time he had seen Jerry was at his funeral. He’d made it home in one piece but died of cancer a year later. It still hurt like hell. “Anyway, I guess my point is—”
“I get it,” Elliott said softly. “Love the people who are worthy of it.” He took a deep breath and patted Salvatore’s hand. “Maybe someday you can tell me the rest of that story.” Elliott hugged Buster and then smoothed his head gently. “Do you need to go out?”
Elliott let Buster out the back, and he must have done his business fast because he was right back inside. They both joined him, and Elliott curled up on the sofa, with Buster right by his legs, and Salvatore found a light blanket for them. Then he sat in the living room chair, picked up the book he’d been working his way through for the last month, and sat quietly, pretending he was reading and not watching Elliott sleep.
After a while, he gave up on the reading and stretched out, closing his eyes, though his body was on alert and his hearing on point even as he dozed a little.
“I STILL don’t think this is a good idea,” Salvatore said that evening as he drove toward the club.
Elliott sat rigidly in the passenger seat. “I have to work.” He had fussed before leaving to make sure that Buster was okay and had everything he needed. “We both can’t go into hiding forever. And I need to do something normal, because the last few days have been some of the strangest of my life. With everyone around, no one is going to be able to get near me without someone in the club knowing about it. I’ll be fine.” Elliott actually seemed determined as they rode into the club about four in the afternoon.
“As long as you promise to get one of us if you see or even think something is happening.” Salvatore squeezed Elliott’s hand, more than a little nervous. As far as they knew, Elliott’s stepfather was still eluding the authorities, and as long as he was out there, then Elliott wasn’t safe. The story had made the news in the area, and apparently a picture was being circulated. So as far as Salvatore was concerned, he’d be stupid to show up here, but Salvatore’s concern was for Elliott. And he intended to keep a sharp eye on him tonight.
When they arrived, Salvatore backed into his parking space and locked the door once they got out and immediately headed inside.
“I heard what’s been happening, and Spook told me about your mother,” Bull said, and then he hugged Elliott. “You know we’re here for you and have your back.”
Elliott nodded and held Bull in return as a stab of jealousy hit Salvatore that he had to try to control. Elliott deserved all the comfort he could get right now. “Thank you. I just want to go to work and try to do something normal.”
“I understand. But you need to keep yourself safe. All of us will be on the lookout, and it’s a Tuesday, so things will be relatively quiet. But I want you to yell or scream at the top of your lungs if anything happens. One of us will be there in a flash.”
“Antonio isn’t going to come here. With all this heat, he’s probably heading for the border with as much portable wealth as he can carry.” Elliott stepped back from Bull. “At least that’s what I’d do, and I know he has diamonds and other jewels that he had in essence put in his pockets.”
Bull nodded, but his gaze swept over Elliott, as well as Salvatore and Spook. “That may be true, but I don’t think your stepfather is going to see things that way. He is going to want his life back, and the easiest way for that to happen is for his accuser to disappear, one way or another. Spook said your mother blamed you.”
“Yes.” Whatever confidence Elliott had seemed to have disappeared.
“You can expect that she could be acting on his behalf.” Bull pulled out two chairs and set one in place so Elliott could sit down.
Elliott nodded once again and lifted his gaze. “She has her own agenda, and I wish I could understand it. But you’re right.”
“Maybe not. I don’t know for sure. I’m just saying that we don’t know how Antonio is going to react, so we’re going to take precautions until he’s captured.” Bull smiled, and Salvatore put his hands on Elliott’s shoulders to reassure him. “Go on and get to work. We have some things to get done before patrons arrive.”
Elliott stood, heading out to start lowering chairs and wiping down the tables. Salvatore got busy behind the bar, helping Hank get everything set up. He didn’t really have any duties yet, so his job was pretty much to help the others until the doors opened. Then he stationed himself at the door, keeping an eagle eye on everyone who approached the club.
Of course, at opening, the few guys who showed up were easy to scout, but as the evening wore on, he had to keep a sharper eye out. There was no behavior out of the ordinary, though, just guys excited about the prospect of a night of drinking and maybe a little more. The usual.
“Anything?” Bull asked once it was dark.
“No. Just normal and sort of quiet,” Salvatore answered. “Mostly it’s guys we’ve seen before. Stuff like that. A few who tried to sneak in their own drink, but we stopped that.”
“Okay. Go ahead and take a break for a little while. I’ll handle the door for you.”
“How’s Elliott doing?” Salvatore asked.
Bull shook his head. “He’s jumpy. Go take him somewhere and help him calm down a little. Maybe just let him sit somewhere quiet. Every time someone tries to get his attention or touches him, he nearly jumps to the ceiling. He hasn’t spilled any drinks, but he just needs a little time to relax.” Bull handled the next guys, and Salvatore ducked inside.
He found Elliott at the bar and got him aside. “Take a break when you can. I’ll be by the office door, and we can sit and talk for a few minutes.” He waited by the door and opened it for Elliott once he came over. As soon as it closed behind them, the thrumming beat from the floor cut off. Salvatore gently pulled Elliott into his arms, just holding him.
“This is harder than I thought it would be. Things I wouldn’t think about before are bothering me, and I wanted to smack a customer for flirting.” Elliott huffed softly. “I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the rest of the night.”
“Take a few deep breaths and just relax. That’s why we came back here. It’s safe and quiet, and it will give you a few minutes to catch your breath.” Salvatore guided him to the small break room, where they sat down. “Do you want me to get you anything?”
“No. I’m not thirsty, and the thought of food is enough to have my stomach revolt on me.” Elliott sighed and closed his eyes. “I keep wondering if Antonio is just around the corner or waiting to burst through the front door t
o come after me.” At least Elliott’s color seemed to be coming back and his hand had stopped shaking, which was good to see.
It wasn’t hard for Salvatore to understand that kind of fear. He had lived it more than once in his life. Salvatore had seen what near terror could do, and he knew the strength that it took to live with it and go on. “I can tell you a bunch of things, but most of them will be just full of shit.” He smiled, and Elliott turned to him and did the same. “But I will say this, and it isn’t crap—strength is sometimes being able to go on, and a lot of the time it has to do with only one muscle.” He gently placed his hand in the center of Elliott’s chest. “That’s the only one that matters. Everything else is the box that holds it.”
“Mine feels like part of it is breaking,” Elliott muttered, and Salvatore held him once again. “And I don’t know what to do about it. I thought being occupied and acting normal would help, but I’m not acting normal and I don’t want to be this way.” They held each other, and Salvatore wished there was something he could say to make Elliott feel better. But what did you say to someone who had come to realize that the people who should love you most didn’t?
“When we go visit my mom the next time, I’ll tell her that she can mother you all she likes. Mom will cook for you and fuss over you until you can’t stand it any longer.” Salvatore waited until Elliott lifted his head. “Sometimes the family we’re born with sucks.”
“Yeah. That’s true enough, I guess. But what do we do then?”
Salvatore met Elliott’s gaze. “We make our own family.”
Elliott chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. “I don’t think I’d know where to start.”
“You already have.” Salvatore caressed Elliott’s cheek, then held it in his hand. “There are plenty of people who care about you right here, and it starts with me. Okay?” Salvatore swallowed around the lump.
“What are you saying?” Elliott asked.
Salvatore hesitated and then found his voice once again. “I’m crappy when it comes to talking about my feelings. I spent years burying them deep down so I didn’t go to pieces when I saw one of my friends get killed or hurt. I saw how that reached to my soul and threatened to kill it, so I turned part of myself off… or at least I tried to. If I talked about stuff, then it opened up again, so I didn’t. And it became a habit. One I need to break.” Salvatore took a deep breath, holding Elliott’s incredible gaze. He could look into those eyes for the rest of his life. “I’m falling in love with you. It’s as simple as that.”
