by Carol Lynne
“Is something burning?” Jax asked, throwing the door open. His gaze landed on the trashcan in the center of the room. “What’s that?”
Dray shook his head. “The past.”
* * * *
Dray rinsed the bloody washcloth in a bowl of warm water before starting on Brick’s hands. He’d held off calling the funeral home because Jax had asked to say a final goodbye, and there was no way in hell he’d let the kid into Brick’s room the way it had been. He’d immediately stripped the sheets and Brick’s clothes before giving the old man a sponge bath.
It had been over an hour since he’d left the message on Lucky’s phone, and so far, no word. “He loved you so much,” he told Brick. “But I’m worried about him.”
Dray had been torn between seeing to Brick and looking for Lucky, but he knew it wouldn’t have been fair to ask anyone else to take care of Brick. He owed it to Brick to take charge of the situation, and see that it was handled properly. After the funeral home had picked up the body, he could try to find Lucky.
Once Brick was cleaned, Dray found an old Brick Yard T-shirt. He borrowed a page from an old cable show he used to watch about a funeral home and split the shirt up the back in order to put it on Brick. Pulling a pair of sweat pants onto Brick was the hardest part, and he was exhausted by the time he finished the task. He used a clean sheet to cover Brick from feet to chest and arranged his hands at his sides.
Dray stared down at the man who had meant so much to so many. “You look good,” he whispered, his throat tight with emotion. He hadn’t allowed himself a chance to cry because he had a feeling if he started, he wouldn’t stop, and with Lucky still missing, he had other things he needed to take care of. He brushed the white wisps of Brick’s hair across his balding head before leaning down to place one last kiss on Brick’s forehead. “I love you.”
* * * *
Dray stopped into Jerry’s Place to see if Lucky was drowning his pain, but the only one he recognized was Sid, sitting on a stool at the bar. He walked over and leaned against the scarred wood surface. “You seen Lucky?”
Sid shook his head, his pupils’ dilated. “Haven’t seen him.”
As much as Dray hated to talk to the stoned asshole, he needed answers. “Where’s he usually go if he’s upset?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? You’ve been his best friend since he was a goddamn kid.” Dray took a deep breath. Pissing Sid off wouldn’t get him what he needed. “I’m gonna guess it’ll be the same place he went when he was young.”
Sid shrugged and took a drink of his beer. “He used to hang out on the roof of his building, but they don’t live there anymore, man.”
It wasn’t much, but it was the only lead Dray had. “Address?”
Sid scratched his greasy hair. “I don’t remember the address, but it’s that apartment building across the street from that salvage place that takes the junk metal.”
“Keens?” Dray asked.
“Yeah, that’s it. So, why’re you looking for him?” Sid asked.
“Brick died, and Lucky took off. I’m worried about him,” Dray replied.
Sid snorted. “Don’t worry about him. Lucky always manages to take care of himself.” He stared down at his empty glass. “He doesn’t need anyone.”
“That’s not true.” Dray couldn’t stand the little weasel, but he knew Lucky loved the guy like a brother or at least he had at one time. “Do me a favor. If you ever decide to pull yourself together and get clean, come by The Brick Yard, and I’ll see what I can do to help you out.”
Sid curled his lip. “I don’t need you.”
“No, you don’t, but I think you need Lucky—and I also think he needs you.” Dray slapped his hand against the bar. “If you happen to see Lucky, tell him to call me.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Dray left the bar and jumped into his truck. He drove the ten blocks to Keens Salvage and parked in front of the rundown building across the street. Staring up, he wondered why the city hadn’t had the building condemned years ago.
“Please don’t be here,” Dray mumbled as he made his way into the building. The dark stairwell smelled of urine and other things he didn’t want to think about. The building was only four floors, so it didn’t take long to reach the ladder that led to the roof. He shoved open the hatch and studied the roof for several moments, trying to determine how stable the damn thing was.
A noise off to the left caught his attention. He stepped up the last few rungs and climbed onto the roof. He heard the sound again and walked toward it. “Lucky?”
He didn’t see Lucky immediately, but he eventually caught sight of a sneaker peeking out from behind one of the heating vents. Glad that he’d finally found Lucky, he walked over, bracing himself for what he might find.
Lucky was curled into a ball, his face buried against his knees. Dray’s gaze went to the dried blood on Lucky’s hands and arms. Shit! Without a word, he sat down. Lucky hadn’t bothered to lift his head, so Dray simply put his arm around him and waited. He knew there were no words that could make Lucky forget what he’d so obviously witnessed.
Dray leaned his head against Lucky’s shoulder and for the first time since Flint’s call earlier that day, he cried. What started as a trickle of tears soon became a torrent, soaking his face and Lucky’s T-shirt.
When Lucky finally moved, it wasn’t to wrap his arms around Dray. Instead, as if in slow motion, he threw himself forward, bashing his face against the roof.
“What the fuck, Lucky?” Dray scrambled to get to the man he loved before Lucky could do it again. “Stop.” He wrapped his arms around Lucky’s chest and tried to hold him still, but Lucky started to fight his way out of Dray’s grasp, continually slamming his forehead against the roof.
Lucky’s elbow connected with Dray’s eye, knocking him back. Shaken, Dray touched his fingertips to his brow bone, knowing the skin had split but trying to determine how bad the cut was.
“See? I told you. I’m bad!” Lucky yelled, turning to face Dray for the first time.
Blood streamed down Lucky’s face from a four-inch cut to his forehead. The fresh blood, combined with the dried blood covering Lucky’s hands and T-shirt stole Dray’s breath from his lungs. He pressed one hand to his chest and the other to his eye. He needed to get Lucky to the hospital, but he knew Lucky would never admit he needed help. Lying sucked, but it had to be done. “I think I need to go to the emergency room. I think you broke something.”
Lucky wiped the blood away from his eyes and knelt beside Dray with an anguished expression. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” Dray whispered. He shrugged out of his coat before pulling his shirt over his head. Five stories up, the cold wind stung his skin, but he was starting to really worry about the wound on Lucky’s forehead. “Press this against your cut,” he instructed.
“I’m fine.”
“The hell you are!” Dray wiped his own blood from his face. “I need you to help me, but you’re not going to be able to do shit for me if you pass out before you get me to the ER.” It was a weak excuse, but Lucky was so out of it, Dray prayed he wouldn’t realize it. He slowly lifted his hands and gently pressed the T-shirt against Lucky’s forehead. Stretching it out, he tied the material behind Lucky’s head. “There, now you look like a ninja warrior.”
Lucky continued to stare at Dray. “I—I…”
“What, babe?” Dray cupped Lucky’s face and kissed him before pulling back. “Talk to me.”
Lucky’s gaze zeroed in on the cut above Dray’s eye. “Nothing. Let’s get you to a doctor.”
* * * *
With Dray right behind him, Lucky unlocked his apartment, but before he pushed the door open, he stared at the ceiling, to the spot in front of Brick’s place. Once again, the guilt overwhelmed him. “I can’t do this. I can’t be here.”
Strong arms wrapped around Lucky’s waist. “Wait right here. Just give me five minutes to grab us a change
of clothes and we’ll go to a hotel for the night.”
Lucky nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed, glancing toward Brick’s apartment again. “I need to go up.”
“Wait for me, and I’ll go with you.”
“I need to do it by myself.” Lucky lifted a hand and ran his fingers over the bandage. He should’ve known he couldn’t take Dray to the ER without being pulled in himself. He’d received three times the number of stitches Dray had and would probably be paying the hospital for the next two years.
“Okay. I’ll come up after I pack a few things.”
Lucky tried to give Dray a smile, but he knew it came out looking more like a grimace. He didn’t wait for Dray to go inside the apartment before he headed back to the stairs. By the time he reached Brick’s apartment, the guilt had swallowed him whole.
It took several moments of fumbling before he managed to unlock Brick’s door. Stepping inside the quiet apartment, he shoved the keys back into his pocket as he walked toward the crime scene. Brick had given Lucky a second chance at life, so when Brick had asked Lucky for a favor, how the hell could Lucky turn him down? Brick had never asked for anything in exchange for the safety of the storage room, the training, the job and the friendship.
The door to Brick’s room was already open, so all Lucky had to do was step inside. He was surprised to find the bed neatly made with fresh sheets and blankets. There was no sign of the blood that had erupted from Brick’s mouth, prompting Lucky to give in and inject the older man with enough morphine to kill him.
A whoosh of air escaped him as he slid to the floor. He’d killed Brick. It was a secret he’d have to keep for the rest of his life, one that would no doubt destroy him in the end.
A throat cleared behind Lucky moments before he felt Dray’s warmth wrap around him. Dray rested his chin on Lucky’s shoulder. “Brick asked you, didn’t he?”
“Huh?” Lucky’s heartbeat sped up at the question.
“He asked you to help him die. I didn’t think of it earlier because I was so focused on finding you, but walking in here, seeing you sitting here, I knew.” Dray pressed his lips against Lucky’s neck. “He asked me, but I wasn’t strong enough. I made him promise not to ask that of you. Goddammit! I hate that I’m suddenly so fucking angry with him, and he’s not even here to yell at.”
“I told him I couldn’t do it, but the longer I sat in here and watched him fight for each breath, I figured when the time came, I’d give him what he’d asked for. I didn’t tell him I would because I wasn’t positive I could go through with it, and I didn’t want him to see it coming. I loaded the syringe this morning.” Lucky didn’t bother wiping the tears as they fell. “When he started to vomit again, I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer.” He grabbed Dray’s hands and pulled them tighter around him. “He went pretty fast after that, and he gave me what I like to believe was a smile before he died.”
“Oh, baby.” Dray continued to place soft kisses on Lucky’s neck. “I’m sorry this is causing you so much pain, but I need you to know that I think you did the right thing. Thank you for being stronger than I am. Thank you for helping the man we both loved go a little easier.”
Lucky sat there for a long time, happy to be in Dray’s arms. “When I was eight, one of my mom’s boyfriends was beating her. I tried to help, but he knocked me back. I was so afraid he’d kill her. So I went into the kitchen and got a knife, intent on getting him away from her anyway I could.” He took a deep breath. He’d never told the story to anyone. “My mom warned him and he turned and knocked me to the ground, broke my nose, blacked my eye, but that wasn’t enough for them.”
Dray stopped kissing Lucky’s neck. “What happened, babe?”
Lucky wasn’t sure why he was so afraid to tell Dray what he’d done. Dray already knew that his mom had forced him to punish himself as a child, so what had happened next shouldn’t come as a big surprise.
“Mom handed me the knife and told me bad boys need to be punished. I already knew that because it was a phrase she said almost every day of my life.” Instead of explaining what he’d done, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and directed one of Dray’s hands to run over the scar on his calf. “It took two times before it was deep enough to satisfy mom and her boyfriend,” he confessed.
“Christ.” Dray’s hand curled into a fist. “I noticed the scar before, but you have so many from fighting, I had no idea that came from your childhood. Promise me you won’t ever talk to that woman again.”
“She’s my mom,” Lucky said. “I didn’t make things easy on her.”
“Fuck that. My mom had two kids to raise, no fucking man to help her out and no money to feed us, but she never once raised a hand to us.” Dray pushed against Lucky’s shoulders until Lucky was forced to turn around. Dray leaned forward. “I’m going to say something that’s going to piss you off, but I need you to understand I’m saying it because I love you.”
Each time Dray said those words to Lucky his heart clenched. They were starting to get easier to hear, but he still didn’t believe them. After all, if his own mom didn’t love him, how could anyone else?
“You need to go see someone, a doctor or counselor—someone who can help you deal with the shit your mom put in your head.” Dray ran his hand down the side of Lucky’s head. “Because, babe, you’re everything to me, and I need you to see that you’re a good, kindhearted man who would do anything for the people around him.”
Lucky closed his eyes and shook his head. “The only place I’m good is in the cage.”
“No. That’s not true. When you told me what Mac said to you, I nearly flipped my shit, but I had a talk with him today, and he explained the entire conversation, and I think I agree with him.”
Lucky snapped his head up and stared at Dray. “You agree with Mac?”
Dray held up his hand. “I don’t agree with all of it. You do have the heart of a champion. I’m just not sure the cage is the best place for you. You’ve suffered a lifetime of abuse. Choosing a career that involves hurting and being hurt isn’t the healthiest thing for you, in my opinion. I think your heart and your skills can be better put to use at The Brick Yard, and I truly believe Brick felt the same way. I think that’s why he left the place to us. He wants you and me to carry his legacy to the next generation of boys who come into the gym, looking for a safe place.”
Lucky didn’t know what to say. He wanted the gym to be that kind of place for kids like him, but he couldn’t imagine a life outside the cage.
“Tell me you’ll let me get you some help? You need to talk to someone,” Dray continued to push.
“I’m talking to you. I don’t trust anyone else,” Lucky finally admitted.
“Will you?” Dray asked. “Will you open up to me and talk about the ghosts that chase you?”
The last thing he wanted was to poison Dray with his past, but he didn’t want to lose him either. Selfish or not, he wanted Dray even if he didn’t deserve him. “If I do, will you stay?”
Dray smiled. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.” He got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on.”
Lucky took the offered gesture and allowed Dray to help him stand. “We can stay downstairs if you think that’s for the best,” he conceded.
“Not yet. For now, we’ll go to a hotel.” Dray flashed Lucky that sexy grin of his. “I wanted to fuck you last time we were in a hotel room together, but I couldn’t work up the nerve to make my move. Hopefully, this time, I’ll get lucky.”
Chapter Twelve
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Dray opened the door to the bathroom and stepped into the hotel room. Lucky was already under the covers, his hair slightly damp from his earlier shower. “What’re you watching?”
Lucky shrugged. “Just flipping.”
Dray checked the locks on the door before turning off the light in the small entry. He didn’t take Lucky’s silence personally. He knew there was a lot going on in Lucky’s head, and the emotional drain for both o
f them had taken its toll.
Dropping the towel, he slid into bed and laid on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows thrown by the television dance across the popcorn ceiling.
“Dray?”
“Yeah?” Dray responded, turning his attention to Lucky.
“Would you hold me?”
With a groan, Dray immediately wrapped Lucky in his arms. “I’m so glad you asked. It kills me to see you hurting and not touch you.”
“Don’t ever be afraid to touch me,” Lucky mumbled against Dray’s chest.
Dray closed his eyes, content for the moment to hold the man he loved.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s next,” Lucky said.
Dray rubbed his chin across the top of Lucky’s head. “I’ll need to go by the funeral home tomorrow. Brick took care of the arrangements, but the final details like when they can schedule the services and stuff need to be taken care of. Mac’s already started to make calls, but I’ll find Brick’s address book and make sure he didn’t miss anyone.”
“What can I do?”
Dray wasn’t sure how much Lucky would be able to handle, so he tried to think of a few simple tasks that would need to be taken care of that would still make Lucky feel like he was helping. “Well, the lawyer will have to be notified, and we’ll have to pick out some clothes for Brick and take them by the funeral home. Do you think you’re up to that?”
“Yeah. Brick already told me, no suit.” Lucky looked up at Dray and grinned.
Dray smiled back. “Sweat pants and a Brick Yard T-shirt?”
“Yeah, that sounds right,” Lucky agreed as a yawn escaped him.
They settled in, and Dray was almost asleep when he felt Lucky move. “You comfortable?”
