Shooting Star

by Carol Lynne

  * * * *

  The smells wafting from the kitchen into the bedroom began to gnaw at Brac’s empty stomach. “Damn him.”

  Knowing he couldn’t spend the next three days hiding, Brac left the bedroom and stomped down the steps. He entered the kitchen and found a grinning Priest at the table.

  “I was hoping you’d join me for dinner.” Priest stood and retrieved a platter of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables from the warming oven. “Have a seat. Unless, of course, you’d rather take your plate upstairs.”

  “This is fine,” Brac growled, pulling out a chair.

  Priest set two glasses and a pitcher of ice water on the table before joining Brac at the table. He filled his plate and poured his water before saying anything further. “Tell me what you see in Jessup?”

  “Evidently a hell of a lot more than you do,” Brac grumbled.

  “Such as?”

  “He pretends to be grumpy, but I think he uses that as a shield to keep people away. However, if you catch him first thing in the morning, when his face is still plastered with sheet wrinkles, he’s extremely kind. It’s like the mask he usually wears hasn’t had time to slip into place. It’s those moments I look forward to each day.”

  “Is there more?”

  “Sure. If you walk in on him reading the cartoon section of the newspaper you’re more than likely going to catch him smiling. That is, of course, until he catches you watching him.” Brac popped a roasted potato slice into his mouth. He’d have moaned at the taste if he hadn’t been trying so hard to show Priest no reaction to the prepared food.

  “And…?” Priest prompted.

  “Do you seriously need me to list everything there is to love about the man?”

  “It’s your list, not mine,” Priest reminded him.

  “He stayed out here to watch over me even though his job should’ve ended when the photographers and reporters gave up and left town.” He speared a carrot with his fork. “As a matter-of-fact, he took time off work those last couple of days. He didn’t have to do that. He did it because he was worried about me.”

  “No, he did it because he wanted to fuck you and was trying to move past his demons enough to pounce,” Priest ground out between clenched jaws.

  For the first time since they’d met, Brac detected a hint of jealousy in Priest’s voice. “And you don’t like the idea of him fucking me, is that it?”

  Priest relaxed his expression and shrugged. “I don’t appreciate that a spoiled brat from California can make him hard when I couldn’t.” Priest dropped his fork onto his plate. “There, are you satisfied?”

  Brac sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “First of all, I’m from Iowa, not California. And secondly, why do you care so much who he gets hard for if you’re not in love with him?”

  “Because I’ve always been the one to take care of satisfying him. Did you know that before he went to Syria he used to beg me to fuck him? Or that he refuses to sleep with anyone because he cries in his sleep?”

  Brac swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “He cried in his sleep before he went to prison?” Several times Brac thought he’d heard whimpering noises coming from Jessup’s room at night, but he’d assumed the man was reliving the torture he’d suffered.

  “He might tell you he has nightmares, but it’s the crying that embarrasses him. The only way I know about them is because we’ve shared some close quarters while on assignment. He’s never once voluntarily spent the night with me though.”

  “What makes him so sad?” Brac’s heart broke at the thought.

  Priest took several bites of his chicken without answering Brac’s question.

  “Are you afraid you’ll betray his trust if you tell me?” Brac asked.

  “No,” Priest finally answered. “I know he was found in a cardboard box in a dumpster outside a fire station when he was only a few hours old, but that’s all he’s ever told me.” He glanced up from his plate. “It doesn’t pay to broadcast your weaknesses in our line of work.” Priest returned his attention back to his plate. “Whether it’s that or something else, I don’t know, but he’s convinced he’s not worthy of love.”

  Brac noticed the moisture gathering in Priest’s eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I love him as much as I can love anyone. But don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not looking for a partner. My life’s my own to destroy. Having someone count on me isn’t in my future.”

  Going back to his dinner, Brac let silence settle around them. Despite Priest’s earlier comments about Jessup, he had a strong feeling Priest knew exactly why Brac had fallen so hard and fast for Jessup. Like it or not, Priest was about to get a run for his money if he thought he could scare Brac away from Jessup.

  Chapter Six

  Before turning the light off over his bed, Jessup grabbed the phone and the slip of paper with Brac’s new number on it.

  “Hey,” Brac answered. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Bored out of my mind, so I thought I’d go ahead and try and get some sleep. Are you getting along with Priest any better?” He grinned. The satisfaction he felt after Brac’s complaining phone call earlier still sung in his veins.

  “I guess,” Brac replied. “Hang on.”

  Jessup heard Brac tell Priest he was going to take the call upstairs. The friendly pitch of Brac’s voice irritated him.

  “Okay,” Brac said, getting back onto the phone. “We were watching a movie, but I’ve already seen it.”

  “Priest’s watching a movie?” In all the years Jessup had known Priest, he’d never heard of the man sitting still long enough to watch a movie.

  “True Grit, the new one, not the old one. Priest said he remembered seeing the original so he was interested in the remake. I tried to tell him it was good but not even Jeff Bridges could compare to John Wayne.” Brac chuckled. “I think Priest agrees because he’s done nothing but complain about not being able to understand a word Bridges says.”

  Jessup rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Sounds to me like things are a lot better between the two of you.”

  “Yeah,” Brac mumbled. “We had to set some ground rules, but since then we’ve been getting along okay.”

  “What kind of ground rules?” Jessup started to sit up but the pain wouldn’t allow it. “Has he come on to you?”

  Brac laughed. “No, we agreed not to talk about you other than general information.”

  “You were talking about me?” Jessup didn’t like the sound of that. Priest knew a lot of shit about him.

  When Brac didn’t answer, Jessup began to wonder exactly what Priest had told him. “Brac?”

  “It seems neither of us is good at handling jealousy, so we’ve come to an understanding. He doesn’t talk about fucking you, and I won’t resort to trying to kill him in his sleep.”

  Jessup couldn’t hold back his amusement. “It’s been a long time since he’s fucked me so if he’s trying to tell you different, don’t believe it.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me if it was last month or twenty years ago,” Brac said, irritation in his voice. “Would you like to think about him fucking me?”

  “No!” Jessup barked. Deep in the grip of the green-eyed monster, Jessup was tired of the test he’d set up for Brac. “Are you sure he hasn’t tried?”

  “I may be a foot shorter than he is, but I’m still quite capable of saying no.”

  “And have you?” Despite Priest’s intimidating size, he did have a way of charming a man that was uncanny. Never, in all the years he’d known Priest, had he ever seen the man get turned down.

  “Is there a point to this?” Brac asked. “Lesson one, don’t assume everyone cheats.”

  “Wouldn’t really be cheating since we’ve never fucked,” Jessup reminded Brac.

  “Maybe in whatever fucked up rule book you follow. But in my book, if you really like someone and wanna build something with them, you don’t go around fucking other gu
ys. Of course I’m just a flake from Malibu so what would I know.”

  Jessup wanted to follow up on that build something comment, but decided to let it drop. He still wasn’t convinced it was possible. “Would it help if I told you I miss you?”

  Brac sighed into the phone. “Actually, that would help a lot.”

  “Good.” Jessup decided to change the subject again before Brac started to ask questions. “So have you caught any fish lately?”

  “I wish. I haven’t been out of this house since the shooting. I don’t suppose you would talk to Priest about that, would ya? Despite being a grown man, he seems to think my opinion doesn’t hold a lot of weight.”

  Jessup settled back against his pillow. It sounded like Brac was trying to get along with Priest, but Priest was being his usual cantankerous self. “If I tell him it’s okay for you to fish, he’ll have to go with you.”

  “Speaking of, anything on the guy who shot you?”

  “Nothing. Although, unfortunately, the papers have picked up the story.”

  “Yeah, Hal called. Sorry about that. I know how much you value your privacy.”

  “It’s not about privacy, Brac. I’ve pissed off a hell of a lot of people over the years, and I can think of more than one of them who would love nothing more than to see me dead. Thankfully, the reports didn’t mention me by name. They were all about the attempt on your life with a side note about your bodyguard being shot in the process.”

  “My bodyguard.” Brac hummed. “I bet if they thought you were my boyfriend they would’ve dug up every bit of information on you they could find.”

  “Then let’s not do anything to give the press that assumption,” Jessup was quick to say. The need for anonymity was just as much for Brac’s safety as his own. He hadn’t been kidding about people wanting to kill him. It was something he hadn’t considered when it had been just him. He was more than used to looking over his shoulder, but would he be willing to put someone else in the position to do the same?

  “No, we couldn’t possibly act like a real couple, not that we even are,” Brac said in a sarcastic tone.

  “Are you saying you’d rather I go somewhere else once they spring me from this place?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Good, because I’d rather be with you than back at my apartment alone.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Brac huffed. “Get some sleep.”

  Jessup hated hanging up with tension between the two of them, but hollow promises wouldn’t do either of them any good. “Ask Priest to bring you to the hospital tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He’ll take the appropriate precautions, and I’d really like to see you.”

  Brac growled into the phone. “You’re one of the most infuriating men I’ve ever known. One minute you do everything you can to push me away, and then the next you say shit like that. Which is it, Jessup? You want me or not?”

  “It’s not that cut and dried. Of course I want you. Who the hell wouldn’t? But there’s a lot of things to consider.”

  “Such as?”

  “Your job. Not only do I refuse to live my life under the microscope that comes with dating a celebrity, but it’s suicide for someone like me and in turn, dangerous for you. That should be enough right there, but I come with a hell of a lotta baggage that even you may not be able to help me overcome.”

  “Won’t know unless we try,” Brac pointed out.

  “We can talk about it once I’m released. Pouring my heart out over the phone isn’t going to happen.” Jessup wasn’t even sure he’d be able to open up to Brac in person, but he had no doubt any sort of relationship between them would fail without it.

  “Fine. I guess I’ll just wait to see you until you get released then, because I can’t stand being close to you without touching you, and I can’t do that until I know what the hell’s going on.”

  Great. Jessup took a deep calming breath. He’d called Brac in the hope of having a little phone sex before he went to sleep but that was obviously not going to happen. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “You can do anything you want, obviously, and I just have to go with the flow.”

  “Goodnight, Brac,” Jessup said before hanging up. He knew he should cut the man some slack. After all, Brac had been cooped up inside the cabin for days. Maybe giving Priest the go-ahead to take Brac fishing would help.

  He turned off the light and pulled the covers up under his arms. A thought began to creep into the forefront of his mind. What if arguing was part of being in a relationship?

  * * * *

  Brac thumped his head against the blanket under him. Even fishing wasn’t enough to get the argument with Jessup off his mind. He’d finally given up, reeled in his line and was currently staring up through the trees.

  “Yeah, I can see why you enjoy this so much. It’s just a big ole party,” Priest said from the water’s edge.

  “Shut up,” Brac grumbled. It seemed that every time he was in a bad mood Priest’s spirits rose. What the hell was up with that?

  Priest set his pole on the ground before walking back to the blanket. Staring down at Brac, he shook his head. “You still want to go into all the reasons why Jessup’s loveable?”

  “Do you mind? Your big head’s blocking my view of the leaves.”

  Priest dropped down onto the blanket and pushed Brac until there was enough room for both of them to lie on their backs. “Don’t be too hard on him.”

  Brac rolled his head to the side. “Why’re you defending him all of the sudden?”

  “Because he was just as grouchy as you when I talked to him earlier.”

  “So?” Brac tried to tell himself he didn’t give a shit what Jessup’s mood was.

  “It’s not like him to let someone affect his mood like that. The fact that you have the ability speaks volumes for how much you mean to him. I seriously doubt he even realises just how much he likes you. As a matter of fact, it could even be the big L word that men like us only whisper about.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “You always refer to the two of you as ‘men like us’. What exactly does that mean? I’ve seen Jessup’s cock, so the only thing I can come up with is men with super big dicks. Is that what it is?”

  “No, but I can beat Jessup in that department. Let me show you,” Priest said, hands going to his zipper.

  “Keep it in your jeans, Sasquatch.”

  “Ouch. Do you have any idea how much it hurts my feelings when you call me that?” Priest clutched his chest as though wounded.

  Brac rolled his eyes, not buying the act for a second. “Stop it,” he said, slamming the back of his hand against Priest’s stomach. “Just tell me the truth.”

  Priest held up his arm, drawing Brac’s attention to the tattoo that he’d shown Ryan the first day. “Jessup has one of these, too.”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen it.” Duh. “What’s it mean?”

  “It’s the Mark of the Damned. It’s a reminder.” Priest outlined the Angel of Death with the tip of his finger, seemingly lost in thought.

  “A reminder of what?”

  “No friends, no family, no one to miss us when we fail to return from a mission. As far as the government and other agencies who hire us are concerned, we don’t exist as real people.”

  Brac rolled to his side and tucked his hands under his cheek. He’d thought a lot about Jessup’s early beginnings, but he hadn’t realised Jessup had no other family. “Jessup doesn’t have anyone? Who took care of him when he was a boy?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t talk about it. Knowing what I know of his birth, I’d say foster care same as me.”

  Brac wanted to ask Priest about his parents but by Priest’s expression, Brac could tell it wasn’t open for discussion. “Okay, so even if Jessup had to live that way while he worked for whoever it was, why’s he still holding onto it? I mean, I’m here, trying desperately to get close to him. Doesn’t he want that?�
��

  “You haven’t been listening.” Priest adjusted the gun holster under his arm before resting his head on his clasped hands.

  “Of course I have,” Brac argued.

  “The Mark of the Damned isn’t something people get for kicks. It’s the symbol of how we feel about ourselves. I don’t know when Jessup got his, but the day I got mine was the day after I tried to kill myself. You see, in the end, I decided I might as well make a load of money and let others try to kill me since I’d done such a shitty job of trying to kill myself.”

  The news that Priest had once tried to kill himself hit Brac like a ton of bricks. For the first time since they’d met, Brac brushed a caring hand across Priest’s stomach. “I’m glad you didn’t succeed in killing yourself.”

  “You and most of the gay dudes I’ve met since then,” Priest quipped.

  Leave it to Priest to make a joke out of a serious situation. “And you think Jessup felt that way when he got his?”

  “I can’t speak for why he did it, but it takes a seriously fucked up mind to do what we do, or as in his case, did.”

  Brac thought of his parents. What would he have become if he hadn’t had their support in the early years of his life and career? Jessup had confided in Brac that he didn’t know how to date or be a boyfriend, and Brac had repaid that confidence by yelling at Jessup every time he screwed up. “Would you take me to the hospital?”

  “Sure I will. Right after I catch that bass you promised me.”

  * * * *

  Staring down at the green and brown goop on his plate was enough to drive away Jessup’s hunger. He pushed the tray aside just as the door opened. “You can take…” He stopped mid-sentence and smiled. “What’re you doing here? I didn’t figure you’d show up after the argument we had.”

  “You call that an argument?” Brac grinned. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  Brac dug into the messenger bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a white takeout box. “I’m sure they’re cold, but I brought you some tacos from O’Brien’s.”