Unlikely Hero

by Sean Michael

“You need to get better, and you need to stay safe. That’s what you do next. Once they catch the asshole, then you can start thinking about what comes next.” He was not letting Eric do anything that involved leaving the penthouse on a regular basis until the kid had been caught.

  “What about my life? I can’t just pretend like it wasn’t there.”

  “You’re going to have to forget about it until this is all sorted out. Hopefully that won’t be long.” It didn’t matter how long it was; he had the growing suspicion that letting Eric and Josie go was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And he was pretty sure he didn’t want to do it.

  He wasn’t very good at doing things he didn’t want to do.

  Eric’s eyes closed. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  His hand stuttered on Eric’s back, and then he resumed his gentle strokes. “Why would I hate you?”

  “Because I left you, and now I’m back in your life and…. Shit, Brock. I don’t want you to ever think it’s because I needed your help.” Eric sighed. “I mean, I do need your help and I want you, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  “I don’t feel taken advantage of.”

  “No? Because… I didn’t come to you because of the money. I came because you—you’re my hero.”

  “I know. You came to me because you knew I’d help. And it worked out, so stop second-guessing yourself.”

  “I came to you because you were the only person on earth that I could think of. I came to you because you’re still my one true thing.”

  He drew Eric into his arms and held on. “It’s going to be all right, baby. Everything is going to work out.”

  Eric let him hold on, let him touch. “I’m sorry, Brock. I wanted… I wanted to do this right.”

  “So tell me. Tell me how you wanted to do it.”

  “I was waiting for Josie to be a little older, then I was going to ask you to supper, see if you wanted to date. See if you still wanted someone who was dumb enough to walk away without trying to make things work.”

  Brock shook his head at his ridiculous dreamer of a lover. The man had never been particularly practical. “For all you talked me up to her and put me in your will and shit, you should have moved your timetable up.”

  Eric had the good graces to blush. “It was a fantasy, you know? That I wasn’t trying to do this alone.”

  Brock shook his head. “You might not have been, if you’d called.” Though to be honest, he couldn’t see himself jumping into Eric’s new family with open arms even a year ago.

  “I thought about it, but… you have this perfect, pristine life. Josie isn’t going to fit in it. I didn’t.”

  He looked at the toys on the floor, the crayon mark on his glass coffee table, the sippy cup on the wet bar. Uh-huh. Pristine. “I’d agree with you except you’re both here in it, aren’t you?”

  Eric nodded, actually smiled at him. “I want to stay in it. I know it’s selfish, but….”

  He slid his hand along Eric’s cheek. “I’m willing to think about it.” Hell, he was willing to do a whole lot more.

  Eric kissed his palm, sighed. “Are you sure I shouldn’t go over, try to do damage control?”

  Brock snorted. “I’m very sure.” He glanced at his watch. “Max and the police should be here any minute.”

  “Okay. I’m going to deal with the chaos in the bathroom. It looks like a hurricane hit it.”

  “I’d offer to help, but I figure you’re looking for something to do.” He gave Eric a wink.

  “Uh-huh. At least you didn’t tell me to let the housekeeper take care of it tomorrow.”

  “If we had more time, I’d blow you.”

  Eric stopped, stared at him like he’d grown another head. “What?”

  “What?” Brock asked in return, doing his best to look innocent.

  “I…. Did you say?” Jesus, that was cute.

  “Go clean the bathroom, baby.” He bit his cheek to keep from chuckling.

  “Uh-huh.” Eric gave him another, vaguely incredulous, look.

  He started chuckling as Eric disappeared. Man, that was fun.

  His phone rang, Gordon’s number popping up. “We’re downstairs, Boss, with Marty, Max’s old partner.”

  “All right, come on up.”

  He headed to the bathroom. “Leave it, baby. Gordon and the cops are here.”

  “I’m almost done.”

  He wanted to scream at the sick, pinched expression on Eric’s face.

  “Leave it.” He grabbed Eric and pulled him in, kissing the man hard. Eric stiffened, then pushed up against him, meeting his kiss and offering him everything. He kissed Eric until they were both breathless, his tongue pressing in, tracing the line of teeth, remembering how it all felt. “Come on, baby. Gordon will be at the door any second.”

  “Okay.” Eric was still just staring.

  Feeling more than a little smug, he grabbed Eric’s arm and tugged him back out into the living room. He let Gordon and the others in, all of them settling in the living area. Gordon looked odd—almost gray—and Max was as tight-lipped as Brock had ever seen.

  He kept tight hold of Eric’s hand, nodding when Max introduced Marty. “I remember you from the house when Josie was kidnapped. Thank you for your help.”

  “It’s what I was there for.”

  Shit, everyone was somber enough for a funeral. The house had to have been even worse than he was imagining. They all sat there, staring at each other, hands on their knees.

  Finally, Eric just snapped. “So? Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  Brock nodded. “Just give it to us straight. I know it’s bad, we can take it.”

  It was Marty who spoke. “Mr. Wilson, your home was vandalized. The good news is that the safe was not breached, nor were any of the boxes up in your attic.”

  Which left everything else. Everything. Gordon had said as much, but it was still stunning.

  “There’s no way he could have destroyed everything else.” Eric’s voice was tight.

  Judging by what he’d already heard and the faces of the men in front of him, Brock thought odds were good that Eric was wrong. “Just tell us.”

  “He’s been in there for a few days—there are dead animals, things broken, bodily fluids.”

  Christ, it was even worse than he’d been led to believe. He held tight to Eric’s hand. “You need to get him. He needs to be in jail.”

  “We’re expecting him to show up here or at your place of business, actually.”

  Gordon sighed. “Max and I are taking your personal security full-time, Boss.”

  “I want one of you here with Eric and Josie. They’re bigger targets than I am.”

  “Should I go, take Jo somewhere?” Eric stood, started pacing. “Maybe if I wasn’t hiding in here, he’d have to come out.”

  “You’re staying here.” Brock was very sure about that. He looked at Gordon, Max, and Marty as if daring any of them to challenge him on that point. No one argued. Well, except Eric.

  “I’ve put you in danger.”

  “Oh, shut up and come sit here so Marty can ask his questions.”

  Eric’s eyes flashed. “I’m trying to make things better.”

  Marty sighed. “Jesus, drop the martyr thing. This kid beat his grandfather so badly the old man’s in a coma. He’s a fucking psycho. You are safe here, huh?”

  “Yes, he’s safe here. There’s only the one way in, and it’s well guarded.” He grabbed Eric’s hand and pulled him down. “I keep telling you this isn’t your fault.”

  “But he didn’t seem like a….”

  “Psycho? They usually don’t.”

  Brock decided he quite liked Marty.

  “You told me you didn’t do anything to him, right? So him going off and being an asshole isn’t your fault. It is, however, your problem—our problem.”

  Eric nodded, but Brock could tell the man was a hundred miles away.

  Marty sighed. “Eric, man, please. Is ther
e anyone you know he’d go to? Friends we might not know about? Hangouts? Other teachers?”

  Brock grabbed hold of Eric’s shoulder and squeezed. “Come on, baby. Stay with us.”

  “I am. I am, damn it. I don’t know. Obviously I don’t know that kid like I thought I did.”

  “Do you know anything about his home life?” Marty asked.

  “I know his mother is a lawyer; I’ve never met the father. I got the impression he wasn’t at home.”

  Marty nodded, and Brock guessed that Eric was right. “What else?”

  “They were supposed to turn in a paper the day after they took Josie. Nothing serious. Nothing earth-shattering.”

  “How was he doing in your class? Was he a troublemaker? Did he work hard?”

  “He was… marginal. He did what he had to—only what he had to.”

  “Did you threaten to flunk him if he didn’t shape up?” Marty was scribbling in his notebook as Eric answered his questions.

  “I have never threatened any of my kids. Not one. They don’t fucking need it.”

  “Eric’s a good guy.” Brock growled a little.

  Marty raised his hands. “Hey, guys, I’m on your side here. I’m just covering all the bases, you know? Now is there anything—anything at all—that you can think of that might have made him focus on you? It’s not necessarily anything big or anything you’d really think of as a trigger.”

  “The only thing I can think of was that his girlfriend worked at the day care. That’s how she got Jo.”

  “Would they have any reason to believe that you had money?”

  “Me? No. No, I’m a single parent, a teacher.”

  Gordon tilted his head. “Did you talk to the students about Brock?”

  “No. One, I never discuss my personal life; that’s inappropriate. Two, Brock and I weren’t in a relationship then. Now, yes, but then we were estranged.”

  Marty’s pen paused for a moment. “Did they know you’re gay?”

  “I never discussed it in class, but I’m not in the closet. It’s common knowledge.” Eric shrugged. “I always thought it was easier to be open from the start than have to constantly hide.”

  “Did any of the kids involved ever express anything homophobic?” Marty’s questions kept coming, rapid-fire.

  Eric chewed his bottom lip, frowned. “No more than the usual name-calling things.”

  Marty shook his head. “There has to be something. What’s his relationship with the girl who worked at the day care?”

  “They were going together. Dating. It was serious. I kept wondering if she was going to end up pregnant.”

  “Well, that’s more than her parents were willing to admit. They’ve been stonewalling us from the get-go.”

  “Well, they have a lot to lose, I guess.”

  “We all do.” Brock couldn’t imagine Josie gone from his life now that he knew her.

  Gordon nodded. “The fact is that he’s young, he’ll come back to what he knows. He doesn’t have money or skills and he’s focusing on you, Eric.”

  “Why?” Brock actually growled. “Why Eric? It just doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

  “We don’t know, Boss. That’s the missing puzzle piece.”

  Brock threw up his hands in sheer frustration. “I don’t know what to suggest. I’m assuming you spoke to the girl about why Eric?”

  “Her attorney’s advised her not to talk to the cops, not to admit anything. They’re claiming Tim forced her to help.”

  Eric sighed and stood. “Would anyone like coffee?”

  Everyone said yes and Brock figured Eric was looking for something to do, something other than sit here and fret and worry and get all twisted up inside over this.

  He watched Eric go and then turned to Marty. “You have to catch this guy.”

  “I’m fully aware of that, man. I’m trying. He’s going to try for Eric or Josie, which means he’s going to try here.”

  “We’ll curtail all outings until you have him. In here they’re safe, but he can try. And get caught.”

  “That can’t be easy for any of you, Boss.” Gordon sighed at his words but nodded.

  “Josie gets a bit restless, but we’ll manage.” Or Eric would. He still had work to do.

  Eric brought the coffee, lips pressed tight together.

  “Thanks, baby.” He patted the couch next to him, hoping Eric would sit, relax a little bit.

  “How about the day care, had you had any trouble from that direction?” Marty asked.

  Eric shook his head. “They’re devastated. Honestly. The owner calls to check on Jo every few days.”

  “It just seems so personal. Once we find what the connection is, we’ll have it figured out.” Marty made a few more notes in his book.

  Eric sipped at his coffee, seeming a million miles away.

  “You got any questions for the cops, baby?”

  “What do I need to do next?”

  “Hold tight. The kid is coming here, I’ll bet my badge on it. And if you think of anything that might help—no matter how small or insignificant it might seem—give me a call.”

  “Okay. I will.” Eric stood, shook everyone’s hand. “I’m going to check on Jo. Night.”

  Brock watched Eric going. He could see the tension in the man’s back.

  “All right, guys. What else do you need to tell me?”

  Gordon sighed. “What about the family situation? The grandmother and aunt?”

  Brock shook his head. “Eric’s estranged from his mother. She fought him on the adoption and has sued for custody a couple of times. His sister is…. She’s a fruitcake. Harmless but annoying as heck and a fruitcake. Eric’s dad is in assisted living in Florida with his wife. Alzheimer’s.”

  Marty’s eyebrows went up. “Wait. Back up the truck. The mom fought him? Is she a teacher?”

  “His mother? No, she’s a homemaker. He says she sued him twice for custody. She hates that he’s gay, that he adopted a Chinese child, that he adopted at all.” It made him want to growl and beat her—mothers were supposed to care about their kids no matter what.

  “Damn it. Is there something he’s not telling us, maybe? Something he’s ashamed of?”

  He knew Marty had to ask, but damn.

  Brock shook his head and tried not to be too upset over the question. “He’d have told me. He wants this solved as much as any of us.”

  “I had to ask, man.”

  “I know.” And he did. That didn’t stop him from growling about it, though.

  Gordon looked at the closed bedroom door. “He’s going to bolt.”

  “To where?” Brock shook his head. “Besides, he’s safe here. And more importantly, Josie is.”

  “Still, I know that look.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Brock shot Marty a look. “You need anything else from us right now?”

  “No. Although I don’t suppose you’d give up your cell phone.” Right, like that could happen.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He loved his iPhone.

  “Well, then, no. There’s nothing else.” Marty winked at him and Max chuckled.

  “All right. I’m going to go see where Eric’s head is at. Gordon and Max can help you with anything else, I’m sure.” He leaned in and shook Marty’s hand. “Get this guy for us.”

  “I’m leaving my partner with you.” Marty’s eyes met Max’s, and damn, there was something there.

  “We’re all getting out of this in one piece. Though, I don’t promise the same about the kid.” If he got his hands on the little pissant before the cops did….

  “Yeah.” Gordon nodded. “Come on, guys. Let’s go debrief Jeff.”

  Brock made sure Gordon still had a copy of the apartment key and locked the door behind him. Then he headed for Josie’s room to find Eric.

  Eric was sitting on the floor, head on Josie’s bed, eyes closed, cheeks streaked with tears.

  Shit.

  Brock got down on the floor and wrapped himself around E
ric’s back. “Baby, don’t cry.”

  “I’m not.” Stubborn ass.

  He grunted and held tighter. “Come on. Let’s go to the bedroom so we can talk.”

  Eric nodded, stood, and held on tight. He took Eric into the bedroom and left the door open a crack so they’d hear Josie if she cried out, but would still have their privacy if Gordon and Max came back in.

  “Gordon thinks you’re going to bug out.”

  “I….” Eric sighed. “Why would he say that?”

  “I told him you wouldn’t, but he said you had the look of a guy ready to take off.” Brock shrugged. “I know you’re strong enough to handle it.”

  “I don’t want to make a mistake. It was so fucking hard and….” Eric’s muscles went tense. “That little fuck touched Josie’s things, was in her room.”

  “I know. Baby, I know. We’re going to buy her new things, okay? She’s not going to have anything that he touched. Never.”

  Eric was beginning to shake, cheeks hot and dark red.

  “Tell me what you need, baby.”

  “I don’t know. I just need to get some sleep, I think. Can we go to bed?”

  “Sure.” He tugged Eric over to the king-sized bed and they sat on the edge together. “Anything you need, baby.”

  “Have you ever been so worried you’re going to fuck things up irreparably that you can’t move?”

  “Honestly? No.”

  Eric stared at him, then started laughing, soft, gentle chuckles that filled the air. He smiled, not quite sure why that was so funny, but happy Eric was laughing instead of crying. He tugged the man into a hug.

  “God, I love you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I do.”

  “I’ve never said I don’t want to hear it. Never.”

  “I missed you. I wanted to call.”

  “I don’t know if it’s good that you didn’t, but maybe it was.” Would he have been ready for a call before now?

  “I just… I don’t know what to do next. Let’s go to Rio.”

  Brock laughed, and then sobered when he realized Eric might be serious. “I don’t know if running away would help, baby.”

  “I don’t think it would. I don’t know, Brock.”

  “Listen to me. The cops are going to get this kid. They’re going to arrest him and put him in jail. And then you and I can decide what we want to do with the rest of our lives, okay?”