Time Lost

by C. B. Lewis

  The engineering bay was quieter, more morose than usual, and he sat down at his workstation in silence. He’d brought in the lock he was working on from home. It was safer to keep it all internal, especially since the police were everywhere now.

  Coffee, insomnia, and anxiety weren’t a good combination.

  By the time Janos came in to fetch him, he was still sitting, staring blankly at the lock. Janos didn’t speak at once. He just lifted the lock from Kit’s hand and set it down on the workbench, then took Kit gently by the elbow and pulled him to his feet. “You need to get rest,” he said.

  Kit nodded, letting the older man lead him through the halls.

  Dieter was waiting by the lift. His makeup was a lot starker than usual, the eyeliner so sharp it looked like he could cut someone with it. He smiled, showing a glimpse of teeth, his lips a dark, bloody red. “I hear I’m your human shield tonight.”

  Kit looked at Janos. “I never said—”

  “Neither did he,” Dieter interrupted as they stepped into the lift. “Those fuckers outside want something to write down, and I’m going to give it to them.”

  “Is that why…?” Kit gestured to Dieter’s face with one hand, the other on the rail.

  “Game face on,” Dieter confirmed, and his grin was feral. “Mariam’s got enough bullshit going on. This, I can do.”

  “Will they actually be able to print any of it?”

  Janos snorted. “They want to know what we do,” he said. “We will not tell them that.”

  “I’m going to tell them about Sanders,” Dieter said, his smile grim. “The man they ignored in their news bulletins. The man they’ve forgotten about. They want words. They’re going to get a fucking earful.”

  “It is best for you to run,” Janos said as the lift doors opened. “Do not stop. Just go as fast as you can.”

  Kit looked between them. “Thank you.”

  Despite their best intentions, at least four media blocks were still shoved in Kit’s face, red light blinking, lenses clicking. He raised his arm to shield his face, trying to push through the swarm, and heard Dieter’s voice. “Leave the fucking electrician alone, you bastards!”

  Janos’s hands were on Kit’s shoulders and he was shoved through the crowd.

  “You want to hear what someone from the TRI has to say? Is that what you’re waiting for? Fine! Let me tell you—”

  “Go,” Janos hissed in Kit’s ear and shoved him hard, breaking him through the scrum of reporters. Kit staggered, but kept his footing, and bolted off as fast as he could. A couple of the reporters yelled after him, but he had long legs, and a head start.

  Half a dozen streets away, he flagged down a taxi-pod, and fell into it, panting.

  The pod shuttled away from the curb, and he groped in his pocket for his quill, digging it out. It wasn’t a night to attempt to cook, and he was bloody knackered. A takeaway was the best option.

  Kit frowned.

  There was a message blinking on the screen, and his heart skipped a beat.

  It wasn’t from Jacob.

  His frown deepened. It was from Jenny, his neighbor. She only ever sent a message if there was a problem with the flat.

  He pressed Dial, calling her. “Jen?”

  “Oh good!” She sounded like she was trying to speak in a whisper. “You got my message!”

  “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  There was a moment of silence. “Some reporters were hanging around like a bad smell outside the building,” she said. “I just checked now and they’re still there.” Kit’s stomach clenched. “I saw your work was on the news. I thought they might be looking for you.”

  “Yeah….” He stared blankly at the windscreen of the pod. “Yeah, they probably are. How many are there?”

  “At least four, maybe six.” She sounded worried. “Maybe you should stay somewhere else tonight? Go and stay with a friend or something?”

  A friend.

  If only it was that easy.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He tried to smile. “Thanks, Jen.”

  “You keep safe. You can buy me dinner for letting you know.”

  He almost laughed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a grabby old bird?”

  “I’ll have steak,” she replied and hung up.

  Kit lowered the quill, gazing at it. She was right. Staying somewhere else would be better, but he didn’t have many people he could call friends, and there was only one person he could really consider going to and that was a bad idea. Jacob had to be kept at arm’s length until the case was cleared up. That was what they’d both agreed.

  He wasn’t sure quite how he went from staring at his quill in the pod to standing at Jacob’s front door. The backside of his brain seemed to be taking charge an awful lot, especially when he was bloody shattered.

  Bad idea or not, he needed to at least see a friendly face, and maybe even just get a hug before buggering off and finding a hotel.

  He rapped the door once, and as soon as it opened, he stepped forward and hugged the man on the other side. It wasn’t until he tried to drop his head to Jacob’s shoulder that he noticed the shoulder was two inches lower than usual.

  Kit blinked.

  The man he was hugging was standing very still, tense with surprise.

  Kit blinked again. “You’re not Jacob.”

  “No,” the man agreed.

  “And I’m still hugging you, aren’t I?”

  “Little bit.”

  Kit stumbled back a step, mortified. Jacob’s son was standing in the doorway, looking both amused and concerned.

  “You okay?”

  Kit pulled at the sleeve of his jacket. He knew he should just go, but he was tired and he was scared and he didn’t want to be on his own. He could feel his lips trembling, even though he was trying to stop them, and he could only shake his head.

  Luke stepped out of the doorway and put an arm around his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, pulling Kit forward, then called out, “Papa!”

  Jacob emerged from the kitchen and stopped short, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked as drained as Kit felt, and Kit wished the ground would swallow him. Of course he would be stressed about the case. How bloody selfish was he to imagine he could just show up and expect Jacob to be fine too?

  “Kit?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kit said unsteadily. “They’re at my house. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  Jacob glanced past him at his son. “Luke….”

  “I don’t mind,” Luke said. “He looks like he needs the company.”

  “Can you…?”

  Luke headed into the kitchen, and Jacob steered Kit over to the couch, gently pressing him to sit down.

  “The papers?” he asked.

  Kit nodded. “They were all over the office when I left.” He looked down at his hands. He’d picked his nails raw again during the day, and one of them was bleeding at the edge. “I was going home, but Jen, she’s my neighbor, she let me know they were there too.” He shivered. “I don’t know how they found my house. I couldn’t go there.”

  “No, I bet.” Jacob rubbed his back in soothing circles. “You can stay put here. Not much room, but for tonight, if you need to—”

  “I can get a hotel,” Kit protested. “I just… I just needed to see someone I feel safe with. Just for a little while.”

  Jacob sighed. “You poor, daft bugger.” He leaned closer and wrapped Kit up in his arms, hugging him. Kit clung onto him, squeezing his eyes shut. Jacob was so solid and warm and real, and it pushed back the misery and the gut-knotting fear a little. “You’re staying here tonight, Kit. You need it.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Your eyeballs are pink and you’re shaking.”

  Kit was torn between laughing and crying. “Yeah. Not good days.”

  “Know that feeling.” Jacob sat back just enough to look him in the eyes. “How bad is it on your side?”

  “Lost around forty staff, give or take,” Kit replied. He l
ooked down when Jacob took one of his hands and used the corner of the towel to stem the bleeding. “I know I can’t leave, but I really don’t know if I can stay either.” He raised his eyes to Jacob. “It’s all falling apart, and I just want to hold it together. It’s so important, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

  Jacob lifted his hand to cup Kit’s cheek. “You’ve not slept either, have you? Christ, what a pair we are.” He ran his thumb along Kit’s cheekbone. “I’m under doctor’s orders already. Dinner and an early night with something to help me sleep.”

  “Doctor’s?” Kit paled. “You’re not—”

  “He means me,” Luke called from the kitchen. He poked his head around the doorframe. “You okay with sausage and mash?”

  “Yes. Good. I mean, thank you.” Kit tried to smile. “I’m sorry. For getting in the way.”

  Luke waved a hand dismissively. “Hardly in the way,” he said. “I was planning on feeding him and getting him to bed. Now I can do the feeding part, and you….” He winked. “Well, let’s just say you might be more comfortable there.”

  Kit knew he was blushing to the roots of his hair. “Um.”

  Luke laughed and withdrew back into the kitchen.

  “So, about my son being an annoying little tosser….” Jacob said loudly.

  “I heard that!” Luke’s voice drifted back through.

  “He… knows? And he doesn’t mind?”

  Jacob smiled. He looked tired. “Right now, he just wants me happy.” He leaned closer, resting his brow against Kit’s. “At least we’re both buggered by this together.”

  Kit leaned into him, nodding. It made it easier, knowing he wasn’t in it alone.

  Chapter 41

  THE RAIN was beating against the window.

  Jacob wished he could say that was what was keeping him awake, but it would be a lie. He was lying on his back, staring blankly into the dark. Kit was curled beside him. He wasn’t asleep either. His head was pillowed on Jacob’s chest, and one fingertip was tapping in time with Jacob’s heartbeat.

  All things considered, given the circumstances, it hadn’t been a bad evening.

  There had been comforting food, some beer, and almost casual chat. It wasn’t how he’d pictured Luke and Kit meeting properly. The fact he’d pictured it at all told him how deep he had fallen. Still, it had happened now, and on the surface, they seemed to get along, even if Luke did try ineffectually to give the “if you hurt my dad” speech.

  Jacob moved his hand from Kit’s shoulder to bury his fingers into Kit’s hair. It was more tangled than usual, so he combed through it, loosening the knots.

  Kit sighed against his chest.

  “You okay?” Jacob murmured.

  Kit spread his fingertips on Jacob’s chest. “Does he know?” he asked quietly.

  “Know what?”

  “What you did.”

  Jacob drew a fingertip along the curve of Kit’s ear and felt his lover shiver. “He knows I did something that could end badly. I think he thinks it’s just my involvement with you.” Kit tensed against his side. “I mean as a part of the case.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t relax much. “Yeah. That.”

  Jacob exhaled slowly. “I don’t think it would be prudent to spread around what happened with Nagy’s files. The fewer people who know, the better. That way, it’s less likely to leak, and if we’re lucky….” He trailed off.

  That’s what it came down to: luck.

  Kit rubbed his cheek against Jacob’s chest. His hand curled into a fist. “Why did you do it?”

  Jacob kneaded at the back of Kit’s neck with his fingertips. “You know what would have happened to him if the world found out.”

  Kit nodded. “But why?” he whispered. “Why risk yourself, your whole bloody life, for him? You don’t even know him.”

  Jacob closed his eyes. “He deserved it.”

  Kit leaned up, and Jacob could picture his incredulous expression. “So you just wanted to give them a happily ever after?” He sat up, pulling the sheets with him. “Jesus, Jacob. Just because they pull on your heartstrings doesn’t mean you need to risk jail. You don’t have to be a bloody hero!”

  Jacob brought the lights up. Kit was sitting there, arms wrapped around his legs. “You heard what his life was like, Kit.”

  Kit nodded, propping his chin on his knees.

  “And you know how he ended up here. What he went through.”

  “Yes.” Kit’s voice was a tiny, frail whisper.

  Jacob pushed himself up the bed and slipped his arm around Kit’s waist. He kissed his freckled shoulder. “The poor bastard has suffered enough,” he murmured, Kit’s skin warm against his lips. “He lost everything. His friends and family turned on him. He was almost killed. And now, for the first time in his life, he’s somewhere safe, where he won’t be hurt. Could you let him just get locked up? Put on display like a sideshow? Stared at and pointed at and picked apart all over again?”

  Kit was shivering and he shook his head. “I don’t want you to be locked up either.”

  Jacob wrapped the younger man up in his arms, framing Kit’s hips with his legs. “I know.”

  Kit leaned back into him. He was still shivering. “If you do… if that happens, Luke’ll kill me.”

  Jacob could feel Kit’s heart thundering against his ribs. “If it’s because of Nagy,” he murmured, “Luke’ll understand.”

  “He will?”

  “Mm.” Jacob drew his hand slowly up and down Kit’s chest.

  Kit twisted in his embrace, searching Jacob’s face. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Jacob gazed back at him. If he told him, it would be letting some of the facade fall away and letting Kit see things weren’t as simple as he seemed to think. It would be letting Kit closer than he already was, letting him see something that Jacob kept closed up, because it hurt like hell to think about.

  “Jacob?” Kit lifted his hand, touching Jacob’s cheek. “Tell me? Please?”

  What the hell, he thought. He was in this deep already. No harm in pushing the boat a little farther out into shit creek.

  “D’you know why Nagy was targeted, back in the day?”

  Kit frowned in confusion. “Because the Nazis were homophobic bastards?”

  A muscle twitched in Jacob’s cheek. Christ, it shouldn’t have been so hard, but it was. “You have no idea how lucky you are, people of this generation.”

  “You’re not that much older than me,” Kit began.

  “Kit.” Jacob’s chest felt tight, and his voice was more strained than he wanted it to be. “Please. Just listen.”

  Kit stared at him, then nodded, leaning into his embrace.

  Jacob swallowed hard. He didn’t know whose heart was beating faster now. “I was born in Ghana,” he said. “We moved to London when I was six. Different world.” He looked down at his hand, resting on Kit’s arm. “My parents were—are—traditional.”

  He heard the sharp intake of breath, but thankfully, Kit didn’t say anything.

  “I knew I was gay by the time I was thirteen.” It was a struggle to continue. “We used to go back to Kumasi every year, to see relatives.” He smiled sadly. “I should have been an actor. Fooled every one of them.” He threaded his fingers between Kit’s. “You see, there were laws. Almost the whole family agreed with them.”

  “Jesus,” Kit whispered. “Did they find out?”

  Jacob watched their fingers overlapping. Kit’s were long and thin, his nails bitten down. “Eventually. I had a choice, they said. Be a good, respectable, decent man or get out.” He sighed. “It’s a long time ago now. Luke keeps me up-to-date, but….” He shook his head. “Let’s just say I’ve been where Nagy is. Not as badly, but I know how bad it can get.”

  Kit twisted around fully and brought up his other hand to pull Jacob’s lips down to his. It was a cautious kiss, and it felt like every second of it drained a little of the tension from Jacob’s body.

  When Kit drew back, he looked at
him, searching his face. “That’s why you did it, isn’t it?”

  Jacob met his eyes. “He had it so much worse than I ever did,” he replied. “He deserves to have some of the happiness I’ve had. He’s got someone who loves him. He deserves a chance to live it.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Deserve a chance to live?”

  Kit shook his head. “Have someone who loves you.” It was barely above a whisper, but so vehement.

  Jacob stared at him. Surely, he wasn’t saying what he thought he was saying. Christ, that was the last thing either of them needed now, not when everything was falling apart around them. He was just tired. That had to be it. “Kit,” he began, then faltered.

  Kit was silent, as if he’d realized what he had implied. “We should sleep.”

  Jacob nodded. He lay back down, but when Kit lay down too, he turned away, curling on his side. Maybe he thought he’d said the wrong thing. Maybe the fact Jacob didn’t give the reply he wanted had upset him.

  “Here,” he said, pulling the covers back up and curving himself against Kit’s back. “You’ll get cold.”

  Kit’s fingers caught his wrist, pulling Jacob’s arm tight around him. “You’re a good man, Jacob.”

  Jacob pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m all right.”

  Kit shook his head, his hair rustling on the pillow. “No. You’re good. You’re far too good, no matter what your parents told you. To me. To Janos. To everyone but yourself.”

  Jacob laid his head down behind Kit’s. “Just a man, Kit. No worse or better than anyone.” He snapped his fingers, and the lights winked out.

  Kit pressed back into him, and Jacob could feel his heart beating. “You’re wrong.”

  Chapter 42

  IT WAS dark when Kit woke, his cheek resting on Jacob’s chest.

  “Morning,” Jacob murmured in the dark.

  Kit squinted around. “Is it?”

  Jacob’s hand was at the back of his neck, fingers curled into his hair. “Mm. About seven.” He still sounded tired. “Sleep okay?”

  Kit shrugged, smothering a yawn.

  There had been sleep of some kind, but it had been fragmented by strange dreams. A memory surfaced from the night before, of saying something he hadn’t intended to say out loud. He pushed himself up on one elbow, groping for the edge of the sheets. “I should go.”