Crazy Bastard

by Angelique Voisen

  Vance opened his mouth, a harsh refusal on the tip of his tongue. But for a second, the seat across from him no longer was unoccupied. Challenging black eyes stared at him from a familiar face branded into memory, because Vance destroyed all the physical evidence of Malik. Seeing the framed photographs in the living room gutted him each time he passed by them.

  Happy times and people. Strangers, although the two smiling men in the photos looked just like him and Malik.

  He understood the message sent by the ghost of his dead husband, a man who died thanks to him.

  Screw this one chance up, and Vance would never get another. He’d remained chained to the past, even until death.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Vance said.

  ****

  Ty changed out of his uniform and into his favorite holey jeans and a plain white shirt he kept in his employee locker. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, mussed up his hair a little so it wouldn’t look so stiff. Then he took a few deep breaths and exited the room and into the darkened exterior of the cleanly swept restaurant. Most of the staff had left, including the manager.

  Moonlight provided the only illumination and he used it to guide him to the front door. Doubts clouded him. What if Vance changed his mind? And what the hell had he been thinking, asking the guy out?

  Clearly, Vance had issues, but then again, so did everyone. He locked the restaurant.

  “You’re the last one out,” a deep voice remarked, and he jumped, then turned to see Vance standing by his shoulder.

  “Sorry. Were you waiting long? It’s my turn to lock up,” he explained.

  He blinked, surprised Vance changed out of his suit into faded jeans and a plain green shirt. Even so, the guy still looked like he belonged on the front page of some sports magazine.

  “You look good.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

  Vance smiled, showing him teeth. This man was a predator in human skin. The good sort. A shiver crept down his spine. Ty trembled slightly. He felt both unease and excitement when he was around Vance, a potent combination.

  “Good enough to eat?”

  Ty nearly choked. Did Vance really say those words?. He hadn’t imagined that. Vance flirted with him, and he didn’t think a guy like Vance was capable of that.

  “Um. Yes.” When stunned, Ty believed going for honesty might be the best answer.

  Vance laughed again, the sound melting his insides. What did he react to every sound and small action this man made? Simply standing this close to Vance, he felt off-balance. A simple crush didn’t explain why he felt like this, like a stranger to his own skin. When Vance pressed a hand on the curve of his back, Ty stilled, but didn’t push him away. The other man’s touch felt like a brand, able to sear through the thin t-shirt he wore.

  Now he wished they had no clothes in the way.

  “My car’s this way,” Vance said, giving him a slight push.

  He moved without realizing it, letting this not-stranger guide him down the street. They stopped in front of a white Ford truck that had seen better days. Curious choice of vehicle, given what he knew about Vance and his wealth.

  Vance stopped touching him to head for the driver’s seat. Ty reached over his shoulder to tap the place where Vance’s hand used to be.

  Vance lowered the window of the truck and called out, amusement in his voice, “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” he answered hurriedly, getting in the truck.

  “Put your seat belt on.”

  He scowled in the dark vehicle. “You’re one of those guys who’s picky about the seat belt?”

  Vance went silent for a couple of moments, became so still Ty thought he’d spoken to a statue. All he could make out was the hard, harsh lines of Vance’s profile. A prickle of worry washed over him. Did he say something wrong? Why did he second-guess everything? This wasn’t like him at all.

  “My husband died, because he forgot.”

  The words rammed into Ty like a hail of bullets. They said so much and yet so little. He grabbed the belt, froze as Vance reached over, big hand over his fingers.

  “It’s not too late to back out now, Ty.” Vance gave his fingers a squeeze, probably thought of it as some kind of reassuring gesture. “I’ll drive you back home. We can both forget about this night, this deviation.”

  “Odd choice of word, deviation,” Ty murmured, beginning to fidget with his hands. He fingered the door handle. He could still back out now.

  His mom had warned him about going out with guys like Vance, guys burdened with so many problems, they could barely see the person right in front of them. Instead of bolting, though, he lingered, hungry to know about this mysterious stranger he could never take his eyes off.

  “Having a routine keeps me anchored. That’s why I keep a schedule, can’t live without it.” Vance let out a hollow laugh, but Ty wanted to hear a different kind of laughter. The one Vance let out earlier, carefree and unexpected. “That’s why I keep an organizer with me at all times.” He pointed to a leather-bound book on the dashboard.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen it,” Ty said.

  “I never bring it with me when I enter the restaurant. I promised Malik, but otherwise, it’s always with me.”

  Malik. Was that the name of the man Vance loved before?

  “What are you so afraid of?”

  The word “husband” told him so much. Maybe Vance had lied to him. Maybe he really did see his dead husband each time he ordered for two at the restaurant. Having a connection with a man like that was doomed. Even Ty could see that, but still, he refused to give up.

  “That if I break away from my usual pattern, chaos will happen.”

  “When did Malik pass away?”

  “You always this blunt?”

  “I need to know what I’m getting into.”

  “Six months ago.”

  Right about the time Ty moved into the city, but he’d only been working at the restaurant for four months.

  “I understand what grief does to a person,” Ty said.

  Crash.

  Ty flinched, his entire body tensing as he searched for the source of the sound. Vance punched the window so hard, Ty swore he could see spiderweb cracks appearing. Vance’s breathing turned harsh and he saw Vance’s fist come away with blood.

  Shit. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. Perhaps Vance was more fragile than Ty initially realized.

  Chapter Three

  Once the haze of anger faded, Vance felt the blood tickle down his fist and silently swore. One look at the window, and he winced. He knew it’d crack sooner or later, with the way he kept slamming his fist into the glass whenever his temper got the better of him.

  Ty.

  Vance expected to hear the door yanked open and Ty’s footsteps fading into the night, but Ty remained where he was, staring at him. Vance didn’t know what to say, only knew he’d fucked up this chance badly. After seeing all the baggage he came with, any guy in their right mind would have run. Not Ty, though. Why?

  Instead, the guy lingered, as if silently demanding Vance explain himself. Part of him wished Ty simply left and never reached out to him again, but Vance realized there was only one coward here. Him. Ty stuck around for reasons he didn’t understand, making him the better man while Vance threw a fucking tantrum like some spoiled brat and punched a window.

  They’d been talking about grief, he recalled. “You understand nothing.”

  “I do,” Ty said. “My mom was my entire world. She raised me on her own, didn’t care her son was gay, even if being gay meant a world of hurt back where I grew up. She protected me, raised me to be myself. When she passed away, it felt like she took an important part of me. I lost my best friend, and it sucks I can no longer just call her up and tell her about my problems.”

  Vance felt like he’d been hit in the face. Guilt washed over him. He ceased caring about everything else in his life the moment Malik died. Oh, he could still do
little things, buried himself in his work because that didn’t require any emotional investment, but everything and everyone else ceased to matter.

  “I’m sorry.” He meant it. “For the longest time, all I could see is my grief, drowned myself in it, without giving a fuck about the pain of others.”

  “I felt that way for a time too. Apology accepted.” Ty paused, as if debating what to say next. “What changed tonight that you’d break away from your usual pattern?”

  “You,” he answered hoarsely, hoping Ty didn’t want a further explanation. He didn’t have one.

  “Do you have a first-aid kit?” Ty asked, changing the topic, much to Vance’s relief.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Let’s see that hand. Get out of the truck.”

  Vance chuckled. “You always this demanding?”

  “Only to stubborn bastards.”

  He grabbed the first-aid kit from the back. It had come with the truck, but he’d never thought about it since he’d bought it. Ty appeared next to him, pried the box from his hand, and set it down. “Show me your hand.”

  A firm order.

  Amused, he did as Ty asked. What the fuck just happened earlier? One moment, the situation looked like a powder keg about to blow, the result inevitable—that he’d never see Ty again. The next, Ty was holding his bloody hand outside the truck before he took him home.

  He watched Ty take the disinfectant from the kit. “You’ve done this before,” he remarked.

  “I’ve tended to wounded animals. I know basic first aid.”

  Vance raised his eyebrows. “So there’s more than meets the eye with the cute waiter.”

  “You think I’m cute?” Ty asked, blushing, then focused on cleaning the blood away. Ty brushed the shards of tiny glass away, using his cell phone as a light. Vance barely felt the pain. He’d wrecked plenty of things before, hurt worse because destroying things seemed like the best outlet for his anger. Ty continued, “I work for the animal shelter during the day.”

  “Hence the explanation for all the cats you take home?”

  Ty scowled at him. He hadn’t noticed the dimple in Ty’s left cheek before. “You making fun of me?”

  “Not at all. So waiting tables is just a way to get by?”

  Ty nodded. “My real passion has always been animals, but I never got to college. The shelter doesn’t pay much, but I won’t trade that job for anything else.”

  “I see. When you saw me, do you think I’m like one of your lost, unwanted animals?” Damn, but Vance hadn’t realized he was still capable of teasing another human being. One night, and Ty had altered his perception of the world. Lethal and gorgeous man.

  Ty scoffed. “More like an injured predator, like a lion or wolf.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. We done?”

  Ty wrapped the last bandage over his fist. “Yep. Good to go. Can you drive, though?”

  “This is nothing.”

  Ty squinted at him, then crossed his arms.

  “If it makes you feel any better, you can drive.”

  After stowing the first-aid kit back, they switched positions. This time, Ty didn’t argue when Vance reminded him. “Seat belt.”

  “Got it. Where are we going?”

  “No idea.” Vance wasn’t joking. Since Malik died, he’d become a workaholic, his social life nonexistent.

  “You can’t just ask a guy out and have no plan where to take him.”

  “As I recall, you asked me out.”

  “I hinted.” Ty blew out a breath. “Fine, what do you want to do? Since you already had dinner and dessert. Drinks, then?”

  Vance considered going into a random bar in the city. The noise and music would overwhelm his senses. He still disliked being around people, even now. At Malik’s funeral, he’d felt like he was being pressed in from all sides by a wall of flesh, rattling out fake sympathies. Since Ty hadn’t fled the scene yet, he took a risk.

  “How about a drink at my place?”

  ****

  “Your place?” Ty repeated, stunned by the turn of events.

  He heard the challenge in Vance’s voice, wondered why he hadn’t made an excuse to leave, either. Ty had control of the wheel. He could insist on driving back to his place, take up Vance’s offer about forgetting the events of tonight completely. Except no part of him wanted that.

  Most people would only see a big guy with a temper, call Vance dangerous, but Ty saw vulnerability too. Grief lingered like a stain that couldn’t be washed away. Sometimes, he still heard his mom’s voice in his head, giving him advice. If she were alive, she’d knock his head against the wall and tell him to give up on this man. Then again, when they disagreed, Ty would do his best to prove her wrong.

  Vance’s case was different. He’d loved Malik. The loss of his husband had broken him, driven him to do unconventional actions like ordering for two during dinner with a ghost.

  If Vance and he ever made something out of this—whatever this thing between them was—Ty needed to accept he’d always be second place, competing with a dead man. Could he live with that?

  “Yeah, sure. Tell me where to go,” he replied. He wasn’t completely right, either. He’d never been reckless, always considered his choices from every angle, but apparently the rules flew out the window when it came to Vance.

  “I’m asking you again to reconsider.”

  “Heard the warning before,” he retorted. He thought he glimpsed a ghost of a smile on Vance’s lips.

  “You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

  Ty didn’t know what to say to that. “Directions?”

  “Turn left here.”

  The bulk of the conversation during the drive was centered on Vance telling him where to go. Good thing too, because he didn’t know how to break the ice, not after their earlier argument. God, but he could seriously use that drink now. This man had a bad effect on him, but he desperately wanted to find out if his situation with Vance was truly hopeless.

  “So,” he ventured, glancing at the thin, spiderweb cracks on the window during a red light. “Been practicing that?”

  Vance literally growled at him, like some kind of wild animal. Ty wasn’t afraid. He had an inkling of how to handle a man like Vance, and besides, he knew without understanding why that Vance would hurt himself first before harming him.

  He waited.

  Eventually, Vance gave him an answer. “Yeah. I wreck things when I’m pissed. That window’s suffered a ton of abuse, so it was bound to crack.”

  “Think about yourself for a change.”

  “What?”

  “If I hadn’t been around and your hand got infected, what would you do?”

  “Fuck, Ty. Are you lecturing me?”

  “Someone should.”

  Vance fell silent for a few moments as Ty turned onto a street Vance directed him to earlier. He recognized this neighborhood, one of the newer ones that housed luxury condominiums.

  “Never had anyone tell that to me before. I’m used to people following my orders.”

  “Oh, I bet,” Ty muttered, recalling what he’d heard of Vance. Vance owned a company or several, according to gossip, and he bet no one had the balls to question the boss. It also equated to a lonely existence.

  “It’s nice to have someone call you on your bullshit. Malik used to do that, too. Damn. Sorry. I’m not mentioning him again.”

  “He was your husband, an important part of your life. You must have loved him very much.” Strange how Ty’s heart ached with those words. It was petty to be envious of a dead man who somehow managed to retain possession of Vance’s heart.

  Vance let out that horrible laugh again. “You make me sound like a good guy.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m far from good. Turn into the parking lot of this building.”

  He did as Vance asked, finally turning the engine off as he found a slot in the multi-rise parking lot attached to the building. Vance got out of the car an
d Ty followed, still puzzled by Vance’s remark. He handed back the key, and Vance’s big fingers lingered over his, thumbing at his palm for a few lingering seconds, enough to send an electric pulse up his arm. Ty swallowed.

  “This way.”

  They entered the elevator and Vance took out a keycard, slotted it, and pressed the button to the top floor.

  “Of course you live in the penthouse suite,” Ty muttered.

  “‘Of course’?” Vance gave him another amused look. Cocky bastard.

  After learning some of Vance’s secrets, Ty should let Vance’s odd comment go, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. That was simply who he was. When he wanted to know an individual, especially a guy he dated, he needed to dig deep, even if that meant unearthing old skeletons.

  “What did you mean just now, about not being a good guy?”

  Chapter Four

  Ty, Vance mused, didn’t mince his words. The more he spent time with Ty, the more he liked the other man who owned a big heart. He didn’t need further evidence to know Ty was one of the good ones. Vance heard the passion in Ty’s voice when he spoke about his work in the animal shelter, had seen for himself the gentle and steady hands Ty possessed while tending to his hand.

  Fuck, but a man like him didn’t deserve someone like Ty. Vance knew he’d only end up breaking Ty’s heart. He was only making things worse by inviting Ty back to his place. Too bad he wasn’t the sort of man to back down from a challenge, either.

  The elevator doors pinged opened and he still hadn’t answered Ty’s question.

  “Vance?” Ty began. “You can’t just ignore me if you don’t want to answer my questions.”

  Vance chuckled and took out his key from the back pocket of his jeans to get the front door. He recalled exiting the restaurant after paying the bill to head back home to change. So much effort for a little date which ended up right back at his doorstep, but Ty’s reaction had been worth it.

  Ty was too obvious, transparent in his attraction to him, but he’d been the same.

  “Whether I’m a decent guy or not, I’ll leave that up to you.”