by Scott, R. J.
Admittedly this was after the fact, but still they had shared.
"The Feds have said they can go one of two ways here. They want us to portion what we have."
"They want our Information?"
"No. Beckett. They can use the fact that his retrieval was covert to expose Sanctuary as a non-player in the team, or they can have him to themselves."
"They're threatening us? No way in hell am I
handing over Beckett. He's still injured enough to need twenty-four hour care." Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Beckett was actually healing well and apart from the broken arm and his eyesight, to be fair, he was on the road to recovery. A few weeks and he'd be able to decide for himself what he wanted to do. No one outside of Sanctuary needed to know that. "He's not safe out there
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until we deal with his uncle and get him healed. What did you tell them?" Kayden was feeling very protective of the man who had been born into the wrong family.
"You know the same thing happened with Morgan.
I wouldn't let them have him and I sure as hell won't let them have Beckett. I saw you sent Manny some files and I have him working on that as a priority. The FBI leak that led the Bullens to Morgan is still there and until I trust them everything is staying back with us."
"What about your shadow?" Jake had an FBI guy auditing every decision he made. Given a lot of what Sanctuary did was firewalled with the best Manny could create it wasn't difficult to hide anything that needed to be hidden. It was just a heap of steaming bullshit that Jake hated. Red tape and proving to the FBI there was nothing hidden at Sanctuary, even when there was. Sanctuary was self-funded and private but even it couldn't avoid scrutiny when the government got involved. In fact a lot of what Sanctuary did was overlooked simply because Jake spent so much time paying lip service to those that could cause trouble.
Jake sighed. "It's a fine line we're walking."
Sympathy for his brother dealing with the
bureaucracy outweighed his misery at being placed here for a while. What was worse than a safe house in a forest? Red
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tape, that was worse.
"Rather you than me." Giving sympathy was a good thing. "How long do we have?"
"I'm stalling as long as I can. How much time does Beckett need to get over his injuries?"
Who the hell knew? Kayden didn't say that even though it was in his head. "Beckett is a fighter. It's only his eyesight letting his down," he summarized. Crossing to a weight bench he sat on the familiar warm leather. He got restless here; maybe a workout would push his energies in the right direction. "His body is bruised inside and out and I'm no head doctor but I think his emotions are all over the place."
Jake huffed a laugh. "Can you talk to him about this letter?"
"What about it? Isn't Manny on that one?"
"He got enough from it to work out some of what it said but it was missing quite a chunk. Covered in blood and torn it's nigh on impossible to decipher what it contained in full. He has it with his tech guys. We need to track down this other key and see if Beckett's mom managed to put away something useful."
"I'll get him to dictate what he told me, something about another key being in Texas?"
"Email Manny." Jake paused and Kayden was too
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lost in thought to fill the empty space. "Kayden, do you still want me to get Adam back from Canada?" There was a sly tone to his voice. He knew the damn answer. As much as Kayden hated this assignment, he wasn't there just to give medical assistance. There were bad guys after his charge, Feds sniffing at his heels, a puzzle to be solved, and a key to be found.
"Bye Jake," he said simply and ended the call.
Lying back on the bench he looked up out the glass ceiling to the stars in the velvet black night beyond. It really was beautiful, but then so was Times Square with all of its man-made brilliance. How could you compare two things so dissimilar? But here, looking up at the sky brought back so many memories of sleeping under the stars as a child and the overwhelming feeling of being trapped. Sitting upright he realized he was going down that path again; where memories snagged and chafed and made his living in the here and now so damn difficult sometimes.
No way was that happening and with an economy
of movement he rolled to his feet. Crossing to stand in front of the punching bag suspended from the ceiling he bowed his head and let the anger inside him form a coherent ball in his chest. Focusing on the energy he moved smoothly
through a kata. The repetitive and restrained movements helped him to control the feelings of being trapped here; his
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martial arts were his refuge. He wasn't letting himself spiral; he was here and he had a job to do.
Kicking and pushing every negative thought out
through targeted kicks and strikes he was finally happy with his mind-set when sweat dripped from his body and his muscles burned with the exercise. Showered and back at the coffee machine he pulled up the medical details for Beckett on his iPad including the X-rays taken at the hospital and the CAT scan photos. In seconds he switched from angsty guy with issues to doctor. Focusing in on the details he remained utterly convinced that Beckett had escaped with far less in the way of slow healing injuries than was to be expected. Only one broken bone in his arm which was set and in a cast. Also no obvious cracks in the skull. Just the small matter of the intracranial pressure which was causing the temporary blindness.
Beckett murmured in his sleep and moved to turn
over. He was instantly awake and clutching at his chest. His rib cage had been punched six ways to hell and the pain would be there until all the bruising had gone. Kayden began to cross to him as a rapidly blinking Beckett was moving to get up off the sofa. Too fast. Too panicked.
Kayden could see terror in the way he was thrashing
against the cushions near his face. In a second he was at Beckett's side with a firm hand on his arm and his voice
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pitched deliberately low.
"You woke up Beck, come on, listen to what I'm
saying. You're awake." Beckett stilled, his breathing harsh and quick. His eyes were open but he raised his hands to cover them almost as if he was denying that he was blind.
"Not long now, Beck, eh?" Kayden continued. "Then you'll be able to see."
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CHAPTER 6
The doctor's voice was reassuring and soft.
"Did I fall asleep?" Stupid question but it unnerved him that the doc was in front of him and there was no way Beckett was going to sit there is silence. The doc didn't answer, he just launched into a round-up of information that had Beckett's head spinning. Details and names and codes. He focused hard on the words all wrapped up in Kayden's soft tone. He hadn't realized just how much Kayden's voice was reassuring him and keeping him calm.
"So there you go," he finished. "We need details of what you can remember from that letter and any idea of who you think might have this key in Texas."
"I only read it briefly. It was a simple thing."
Frustration leached into him, "God. I wish I could remember. Something about the other key is all I can think of."
"And the Texas bit?" Kayden wanted a memory that Beckett couldn't recall and it frustrated him.
"That the key is in Texas. Honestly, I was reading it and then he came in. Alastair."
"Do you know anyone in Texas?"
"No. That's just it. I've never e
ven been to Texas
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and I don't even remember my mom, let alone know if she had friends in the South."
"Okay it's fine," Kayden was holding his hands and it felt nice. A link to a world he couldn't see very well. His voice was so soft and it reminded Beckett of when he lay in the bed and had only Kayden's voice to calm him. "The list of numbers in the box you were given by the lawyer is an account number and a reference, probably for that safety deposit box. That much Manny has narrowed down. He'll get that to us and all we need to do is go to the bank with the two keys and open it to see what your mom has hidden that she wanted only you to see."
"But we don't have the other key." Irritation bubbled under his skin. The memories were there but were frustratingly just out of his reach. Something in the letter had made him stop and think, but all of that was lost in a haze of pain. He must have made a sound of frustration because suddenly Kayden was squeezing his hands and
calming him down. Affection for the man he couldn't see, the young man who was a doctor, filled him. A lot of it had to do with the flow of Kayden's voice, like whisky and honey it was smooth and warming.
"We'll find it," he reassured. "Right now though, I need to check your vitals and see how you're doing."
"I wish I could see you." Did I actually say that out
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loud? Quickly, he changed the direction of what he was saying. "And it's not as if my other senses are like super-sized or anything. I can't smell or hear anything better."
"You mean because you are for all intents and
purposes blind? The sensory input information we get from what is around us is about eight-five percent visually processed. Even with blind people, the other senses don't get better, it's just that more attention is given to them. But if that was a clumsy attempt to find out what I look like then I am taller than you by a bit, green eyes, blond hair and apparently I look good in scrubs." The last he added with a laugh.
"Bet the guys love you," Beckett laughed in return and then realized what he had said. Instantly heat climbed inside him. "Sorry, you were talking to me—the first day I was here and you said you were gay—look, I was only half awake. Sorry."
"I always talk to my semi-conscious patients, get all that pesky sexual preference shit out of the way at the start before they get well enough to beat on me."
"Oh." Beckett snagged that comment and held it tightly. He hadn't been wrong then. He had heard properly.
The doctor with the sexy voice and the firm touch was definitely gay. "Elisabeth wasn't my girlfriend," Beckett blurted out.
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"Okay." Kayden pushed himself up against the sofa to stand from the floor. Beckett knew that by the pressure and movement on the sofa. His voice held that tone people used when they were puzzled why Beckett had said
something so odd. Suddenly it was vitally important that Kayden follow exactly what he was trying to say.
"She kept my secret though. About why I tracked down Gregory Bullen. I told her about the stuff my mom left for me with her lawyer. I trusted Elisabeth." Beckett didn't want Kayden to go. Suddenly the reality of the FBI wanting him and the puzzle of the keys and the death of someone he had shared secrets with seemed too much for him to hold on his own. He leaned forward from the sofa and blindly reached out to stop Kayden from leaving. His fingers found material and he gripped tightly, twisting them and holding Kayden. "Did she die because of me?"
Kayden prized his fingers away from the material
and very patiently answered. "No Beck, she died because the Bullens have secrets and she knew enough about them to cause trouble. She was interning with the senator and clearly found something or maybe heard something that she shouldn't have. I'm not lying when I say if the Bullens had known you had anything to do with Elisabeth you'd
probably be dead too."
Beckett shivered at the thought. "But I told her what
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my mom had written. That there was something hidden in this old room. Elisabeth told me things. Like the code for the password generator on Greg's computer. How did they find out about her and not me?"
"I don't know." Kayden's tone of voice seemed final. It sounded an awful lot like Kayden wasn't ready to speculate. "Right now I'm thinking bed may be a good idea so I can check how you're healing and you can get some sleep." Sleep had never sounded so good. Add to that the chance of his bodyguard's hands all over him? Didn't matter if it was for medical reasons or not; Beckett was more than interested in that.
"What time is it?"
"Just before nine."
"In the morning?"
"Evening."
"I'm not tired." Beckett belied this with a wide yawn then shrugged. "Maybe I am."
Kayden helped him to wherever he was sleeping
and Beckett didn't even bother getting undressed. He just knew that bed was a good place and he felt safe.
Remembering he hadn't actually managed to tell Kayden that he too was gay he kicked himself for it. All that building up to the big announcement and he had lost it at the last moment. Oh, but Kayden smelled so good. It was
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only when Kayden thanked him softly with a chuckle that Beckett realized he may well have said that out loud.
The dream was full on and in it there were so many
threads that it was impossible to pull one out and identify it properly. The Bullen house was there, in all its brooding glory, carved into the mountain and old to look at. Gregory was hugging him, holding him, keeping him from moving away. Then there was a woman. Who appeared how he
thought his mom may have looked, like an older version of himself, dark hair with brown eyes maybe. The only photo he had ever seen of her was one old faded shot that the lawyer had passed to him, the same photo that was back at the Bullen mansion in his wallet.
She was talking to him in the dream. No. That
wasn't quite right. She was actually talking at him, telling him what he had read in the letter. Over and over he was thinking Texas fits here. Somewhere in this mess of dreams there was a link to something he wasn't getting. The letter he had received from her along with the teddy bear that day in the lawyer's office had spoken of how the man who was handing it to him was the man she had loved. Austin was the same person who had somehow managed to get Beckett away and place him with a new family. Images forced their way to the front of his mind and he wished they were true.
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His mom smiling down at him and telling him it was going to be okay. And Austin—
"Kayden!" He woke up calling Kayden's name and he called it again. In seconds Kayden was there, the door banging back and slamming uselessly against the wall.
"What's wrong?" Kayden sounded alert and Beckett doubted the other man had been asleep at all.
"I have it." He got up and turned to rest his feet on the floor. "We need to go—"
"What the fuck Beck, I thought you were dying or shit."
"No. I had this dream—look—get dressed. Do you
still have my jeans? Or I can borrow some of yours? We just need to get out of here—"
"We're not going anywhere."
"Austin, my mom's lawyer, the man who placed me with the Jamieson family and kept my mom's secrets after her death. The key isn't in Texas, the key is with Austin.
See? Austin. Texas." Beckett blinked and faced the shadow in the doorway. He imagined he could make out blond hair but that was probably just his sleep-induced imagi
nation.
"Then why didn't Austin give you the key when you saw him?"
Damn it. That was a good question. Dragging a
hand through his short hair he closed his eyes for a second.
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Blind or not closing his eyes helped him think. Inspiration hit him. "Maybe he didn't know what it meant?"
"A key is a key, Beck." Another very good
statement but still, the coincidence between the mention of Texas and the man's name being Austin was too perfect to ignore.
"It may be in her effects that he kept, or inside something. Come on. Surely it's worth a try?"
"Where does this Austin guy live?"
"I don't know, I mean, I do know, I'll remember. It's about six miles outside of Albany—"
"No. I'm not taking you out of here. Full stop. Let alone back to the Albany area. We'll talk about it in the morning. Get someone from Sanctuary to pay him a visit."
"No, he may only talk to me."
"You're tired—"
"Jeez, I'm not tired now. Don't you get it, he may have the freaking key." Beckett stood and could clearly make out the shape of the bedside table at the side of the bed. He opened the top drawer and stuck his hand in, pulling it back when something sharp dug into him.
"You're in a recovery room and you've got your
hand in amongst scissors in a medical supplies drawer,"
Kayden drawled. "Go back to bed."
"Where are my clothes?" Beckett turned to face
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Kayden's shadowy shape. "My jeans, my shirt. Or do you have something I can borrow? I'll call a taxi."
