by Carol Lynne
“Shit,” Lucky mumbled.
“I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me,” Mac grumbled. “I don’t deserve your pity or anyone else’s. I certainly don’t deserve your praise for feedin’ ya. We all have to pay for the mistakes we’ve made along the way, and me giving out leftovers is one way I do that. I ride your ass all the time because I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made with my boy and when I see you fucking up, I wanna set you on the right path, even if I have to push ass.”
“The shit that you said to me the other night really got to me,” Lucky admitted. “I guess I always thought of you and Brick as being on my side.” He kicked at a chunk of asphalt. “When you told me you no longer believed in me, it hurt.”
“Yeah, I know it did.” Mac scrubbed at his face with his palms. “I don’t think fighting’s the right path for you anymore, and I couldn’t live with myself if I just let you continue down that road and something serious happened to you or someone else.”
“But fighting’s what I love to do,” Lucky argued.
Mac shoved his hat back on his head before reaching over to grab Lucky’s wrists. “I need you to do one thing for me. Search your soul, and figure out why you love to fight. I’m not talking about the bullshit you hand Brick and everyone else. I’m asking you to dig deep and come up with the real answer.”
“You say that like you already know.” Lucky pulled his hands back, breaking the contact.
“I think I do, but what I think doesn’t matter. You’ve gotta come up with your own truth.” Mac got to his feet. “I’d better get back. No doubt Connie’s fixing to skin me alive.”
“Mac?” Lucky called out before Mac could disappear.
“Yeah?”
“How’d you come to own this place?” After the story Mac’d told, Lucky had a hard time understanding how the man had gone from being a worthless father to owning his own diner.
Mac grinned. “You don’t think Dray was the first person Brick helped, do ya?” He walked back into the diner without another word.
Left stupefied by Mac’s parting words, Lucky slowly shook his head. Was there anyone in Chicago that Brick hadn’t saved in one way or another? He rested his head against the wall and stared up at the sliver of sky he could see between the buildings. “What the fuck?” he asked God. “Why the hell’re you taking away the one angel this neighborhood has?”
* * * *
Lucky entered Brick’s apartment to find Brick and Dray watching old videos of Dray’s UFC matches. “Hey.” He dropped his gym bag on the floor and took off his shoes. It had been a while since he’d watched Dray fight. In the beginning, when Brick had been trying to teach Lucky proper skills, he’d used the videos as training guides.
“Sit down and learn something,” Brick wheezed.
Lucky joined Dray on the couch, his gaze riveted on the television. Brick had always been right about Dray’s skills. They were perfect. Watching Dray land punches and kicks in equal measure had Lucky involuntarily rubbing the scar on his calf through his thin sweat pants.
“You sore?” Dray asked.
“Huh?” Lucky wasn’t sure what Dray was talking about. “I’m fine.”
Dray gestured to Lucky’s leg. “So what’s up with your calf?”
Lucky jerked his hand away. “I’m fine. Just a habit.”
“There,” Brick said. “Did you see that combination?”
“Sorry. I missed it,” Lucky replied.
“Well pay attention!” Brick’s yell was followed by a series of coughs.
Lucky used the time to get up and scoop Gatsby out of Brick’s lap. He kissed the kitten’s head. “Did you feed her?” he asked Dray.
Dray nodded. “I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here, so I fed her about an hour ago.” He pointed to Lucky’s leg. “So what’s the deal with the leg?”
“Nothing.” Lucky carried Gatsby into the kitchen. He looked into the pot on the stove. “Can I have some of this chili?”
“Sure, but I have to warn you, Flint made it and dropped it by.” Dray chuckled. “Despite that, it was pretty damn good.”
Lucky set Gatsby down and spooned up a bowl. He added a healthy dose of hot sauce and grabbed a bottle of water before going back into the living room. He’d been trying to figure out a way to tell Brick and Dray about his day, so he decided to just spit it out. “My mom came by the gym today,” he announced.
For the first time since Lucky had come into the apartment, Brick tore his gaze away from the television. He reached for the remote and turned off the set. “What’d you say?”
“Mom came to the gym. Evidently she’s clean and sober and ready to be a decent person for the first time in her miserable life.” Lucky concentrated on his dinner, so he couldn’t see Brick or Dray’s reaction, but he didn’t have to wait long.
“I don’t want that bitch in my gym,” Brick declared.
“I know. I took her to Mac’s to get something to eat,” Lucky said around a bite of chili.
“So why’re you eating now?” Dray asked.
“Because I didn’t stay long enough to touch my food.” Lucky glanced at Dray. He wanted to talk to Dray about his discussion with Mac, but not in front of Brick. “Anyway,” he began, returning to his dinner, “Mom’s staying at a halfway house for the next two months. She didn’t ask for it, but I have a feeling she’s going to want money. I gave her what I had, but she’ll be back.”
“Don’t give her a dime more.” Brick turned his gaze on Lucky. “You don’t owe her anything.”
Lucky shrugged. It was a long running argument between him and Brick, and although he understood Brick’s position, Lucky had been trained since birth to put his mother’s needs before his own. It was a hard habit to break, even if he understood how unhealthy it was. Forget cigarettes, booze and drugs. He was addicted to pain—the kind of pain that only a mother could dole out.
Appetite gone, he stood and carried his bowl to the kitchen. He scraped the uneaten chili into the garbage before washing his dishes and putting them back into the cupboard. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his lower back and glanced over his shoulder to see Dray. “Hey.”
“You okay?” Dray asked.
“Tired.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was tired of everything, and what he really needed was to fight. Pulling out of the tournament suddenly felt like a very bad idea. He’d done it to spend time with Brick, but he was quickly figuring out that he needed that release to keep sane. “I think I’ll go back to the gym for a while and work the speed bag.”
Dray settled his hands on Lucky’s hips and pressed against his back. “Why don’t we go for a run instead? I could use some exercise.”
“What about Brick?” Lucky turned to face Dray.
“We’ll turn the fight back on. Brick’ll never miss us.” Dray gave Lucky a soft kiss, slipping his tongue inside for the briefest moment.
Lucky licked his lips. “Okay, but I want to stop by the gym afterward to check on Jax.”
“I’ll get changed.” Dray kissed Lucky again before walking out of the kitchen.
Lucky waited long enough for his erection to subside before re-entering the living room. “Dray and I are going for a run,” he told Brick. “You need anything before we go?”
Brick looked up at Lucky. “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Lucky wasn’t sure what Brick was asking, but it didn’t really matter. “No,” he answered honestly. “I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”
* * * *
After a five-mile run, Dray felt the burn in his calf muscles as he walked alongside Lucky toward The Brick Yard. He glanced up and saw a light on in Mac’s apartment over the diner, “I was surprised to hear you took your mom to Mac’s. I thought the two of you weren’t speaking.”
Lucky lifted the bottom of his T-shirt and wiped the sweat from his face, taking special care with the bruises and scrapes. “I guess we worked it out.” He lowered his shirt.
“Did you know Brick helped Mac get this place?”
Dray shook his head.
“Yeah,” Lucky confirmed. “I wonder how many other people Brick’s helped through the years.” He stopped walking when they were outside the door to the gym. “What kind of fucked up world do we live in when someone as good as Brick dies when someone as evil as my mother is given a second chance at life?” He blew out a long breath. “Sorry. I still don’t know how to feel about my mom.”
“I can understand that.” Dray sat on the sidewalk, resting his back against the building, in hopes that he could get Lucky to keep talking. “I would imagine it’s nice to see your mom clean and sober for a change, but you’re angry that it happened now instead of years ago.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Lucky didn’t sit, instead he started to pace back and forth in front of Dray. “She always told me that bad people get what they deserve.” He tilted his head back and let out a growl of frustration that echoed against the brick buildings.
Dray remembered what Jax had told him about Lucky’s mumblings on the night of his beating. “Bad people or bad boys?”
Lucky’s entire body jerked as if Dray had just delivered a knock-out blow. After several moments, he stared daggers at Dray. “I’m not done running. Why don’t you go in and check on Jax.”
Lucky took off at a dead run before Dray could get to his feet. “Fuck!” Dray spat. As he watched Lucky pound down the sidewalk, Dray swore he could see the ghost of a small boy chasing him.
Once Lucky had rounded the corner, Dray pulled out his keys and unlocked the front door. He glanced at the small light that Lucky must’ve left on when he’d closed the gym earlier. Whether Lucky wanted to realize it or not, he’d already begun to slip into Brick’s shoes. “Jax?” he called. He didn’t want to frighten the kid, and he had no doubt Jax had heard the door open.
“Hey.” Jax came out of the laundry room. “Is something wrong with Brick?” he asked, worry in his voice.
“No. I went for a run with Lucky, so I thought I’d stop by and check on you. You’re not still working, are you?” Dray asked, walking across the expansive two-story space of the gym.
“Homework.” Jax leaned against the doorframe. “Lucky attacked me with Silly String earlier.” He chuckled. “It took me forever to get it cleaned up, which put me behind schedule.” He wandered back to the scarred table. “Chemistry.” He groaned. “Sucks!”
Dray walked into the room and sat on the corner of the table. “Sorry, can’t help you.” He’d barely made it through high school because he’d been so immersed in training that he’d cared about little else.
“Yeah, neither can God evidently, because I’ve been begging him all evening.” Jax tapped the end of his pencil against the thick textbook. “Is Lucky okay?”
“He’s working through shit, but he’ll be okay,” Dray said, knowing Jax had his own problems to deal with. “Has your dad been around?”
Jax shook his head. “He doesn’t know about this place. I saw him waiting for me outside school yesterday, but I spotted him and used the exit out the back.”
Dray had given Jax’s situation a lot of thought. Legally, Jax’s father could go to the cops and get his son back, but according to Lucky, he didn’t think Jax’s dad would do that. However, the fact that The Brick Yard was harboring a runaway could get Brick, Lucky and Dray in trouble with the authorities. It was a fucked up situation, but one Brick had been willing to risk everything on for years. The answer to the problem was to become a foster parent to Jax, but that process required extensive background checks. He studied his tattoo covered arms. For the first time in his life, he worried what another person might think of his ink. Would the foster care officials take one look at his tatted up skin and deem him unworthy? Then, of course, there was the gay thing. And, the fact that he didn’t even have a home in Chicago. Christ. There was no way in fuck they’d let him be a foster parent.
“Well, until I can figure something else out, just keep your eyes open,” Dray finally said.
“Yeah, I get ya.” Jax glanced back at his book. “Lucky’s mom seemed nice to me, but I could tell by the way he reacted to her that she isn’t. It made me wonder what other people see when they look at my dad.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. That’s for sure,” Dray agreed. He pointed to Jax’s homework. “You almost done?”
Jax looked at the page in front of him. “Six more problems to answer.”
“Is the rest of your homework done?” Dray stood.
“Yep, this is the last of it. Don’t worry. I plan to go to bed the minute I’m done.”
“Good deal.” Dray moved toward the door. “I’ll lock the front door when I leave, but Lucky’s still out there somewhere, so don’t freak if he shows up again.”
* * * *
After only a few hours of sleep, Lucky shuffled into his kitchen to find Dray leaning against the counter, staring at the coffee pot. He wrapped his arms around Dray’s waist. “Can’t you make that brew any faster?”
Dray reached back and slapped Lucky’s ass. “I wish.”
Lucky rested his chin on Dray’s shoulder. After a punishing run, he’d returned to his apartment to find Dray sound asleep in his bed. He’d taken a shower and joined Dray under the covers. Dray had curled around him, but that was it. For the first time since they’d been together, they hadn’t had sex. “Are you mad at me?”
“No. Why would I be?” Dray withdrew cups from the cupboard.
“Because of the way I acted last night.” Lucky kissed the tattooed skin between Dray’s shoulder blades. “We didn’t have sex.”
Dray poured two cups of coffee before turning around, leaving the coffee on the counter. He cupped Lucky’s ass and pulled him closer. “We don’t have to fuck every time we’re together. You had a bad night, and I thought maybe it would be better to just hold you.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want to sleep with me if you didn’t wanna fuck?” Lucky knew he probably sounded crass, but he needed to know.
Dray stared at Lucky, his mouth set in a thin line. “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”
Lucky took a step back, unsure how to take Dray’s obvious anger. “I don’t think you’re an asshole.”
“Then why…?” Dray sighed. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Evidently not, because I can’t figure out why the fuck you’re mad at me all the sudden,” Lucky said.
“Because I care for you. This isn’t just about sex for me, but I can see you feel differently.” Dray turned his back on Lucky and lifted his cup to his lips. “If sex from me is all you’re after, that’s fine, but you should have said something before now.”
Lucky’s chest felt tight as he tried to comprehend Dray’s words. “You care about me?”
Dray punched the cabinet door in front of him, cracking the cheap wood from top to bottom. “Fuck!” He shook his head and several drops of blood splattered onto the floor.
Lucky rushed forward and grabbed a dishtowel. “Did you break it?”
Dray took the towel from Lucky and wrapped it around his hand. “Don’t worry about it.” He pushed past Lucky and left the apartment without putting a shirt on.
Lucky stood in the middle of the kitchen, wondering what in the hell he’d just done.
Chapter Ten
Dray was working his frustration out on the heavy bag with Jax sitting on a stool nearby. With his hand fucked up, he was forced to stick to his legs and his left hand, but he was slowly bringing his blood pressure down.
“Why’d you quit?” Jax asked.
Dray glanced at Jax. “Didn’t Brick tell you?”
Jax shook his head. “He said you had some personal problems,” he admitted.
“The fans found out I’m gay and turned their backs on me.” Dray kicked the bag several times, switching from foot to foot.
When Jax remained quiet, Dray was suddenly afraid he’d lost the respect of the teenager. He stopped and faced Jax.
“Does that bother you?”
Jax shook his head. “I go to school with some gay kids, and they’re pretty cool.” He gestured to Dray’s bandaged hand. “How’d that happen?”
“Got pissed and punched the kitchen cupboard.” Dray frowned. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I’ll remember that. What made you so mad?” Jax asked.
“Do you always ask so many questions?” Dray left Jax sitting by the heavy bag and went over to the speed bag. Using only his left hand, he started a rhythm.
“I’m not trying to be nosey or anything,” Jax said, setting his stool down before climbing onto it. “I need to tell you something, and I need to make sure it’s not going to make you madder before I do.”
“You can tell me anything,” Dray said, not taking his eyes off the speed bag.
“That night Lucky came here and he was so beat up, he said something that I didn’t understand at the time, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you should know.”
The mention of Lucky’s name got Dray’s full attention. “What’d he say?”
Jax shifted on his stool, clearly uncomfortable. “I think he thought I was you because he said I was his world, the only man he’d ever wanted, but that he couldn’t have me because he didn’t deserve me then he went on about being a bad boy.”
Speed bag forgotten, Dray dropped his arms to his sides. Although he’d suspected Lucky cared more than he’d let on, it was Lucky’s incoherent mumblings to Jax that sealed Lucky’s fate, as far as Dray was concerned. Knowing what he did now, there was no way in hell he was going to let Lucky push him away.
Jax climbed off the stool and stood. “Why does Lucky think he’s so bad?”
