by Sara Brookes
Five minutes later Enver arrived, strolling across the street from where he’d parked looking every bit the man Marcus had fallen in love with.
“You made it,” Enver said as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Afraid I wasn’t going to show up?”
Enver took a drag on his cigarette as he eyed him. “You do have a habit of splitting.”
Marcus knew it was said in jest, but he still regretted bailing. No matter how much he assured Enver he was sorry for fucking up, how often he promised Enver he was there to stay, nothing but time would heal the hurt. They’d get past it, he was confident of that.
He recognized Zoie’s truck as she pulled into the parking lot. A minute later, she mounted the sidewalk, hugging Marcus as she came close. She released him, then immediately embraced Enver. Marcus covered his amusement as Zoie spoke quietly to Enver. He wondered what they were saying as Enver responded in the same hushed tones. He glanced quizzically at Zoie as she patted him on the chest as she passed and disappeared into the restaurant. Enver squeezed the cherry out of his cigarette, discarded the filter in a nearby ashtray and popped a mint while Marcus wondered what the hell was going on.
“Do you guys secretly know each other?”
“Let’s just say we had a long, intimate evening together sitting in front of the fire and discussed the finer points of cunty potatoheads.” Enver smirked, leaning over to give Marcus a quick peck. “Quite an interesting woman. Telling me I’m good for you one second, then swearing to cut off my balls if I break your heart the next.”
Marcus glared at Enver’s back as he stepped into the restaurant. Every time he thought he had his life figured out, something happened to toss him off balance.
A wall of noise hit Marcus in the noisy bar area. Though it was festive, it didn’t capture one’s attention in the same manner as the lounge at Noble House. At the club, at any moment members could spontaneously start fucking. He had serious doubts that would happen here.
Marcus made his way through the crowd, locating Zoie at the far end of the bar with a cocktail already in her hand. “That kind of night, huh?”
“Hell of a day.” She paused long enough to take a long sip.
“Everything all right?”
She waved her hand. “I just need to kick back a few of these, get my rocks off and sleep for three days. In no particular order, of course. Though the fucking would be better while I was still awake.” She signaled the bartender for another round. “Or if I had a guy.”
Of course, just as Zoie wrapped up her confession Enver arrived, but he didn’t seem fazed by her honest statement. Clearly amused, he offered Marcus a beer while he took a sip of his own. “Should only be about ten minutes. Couple of parties haven’t cleared out like expected.” He paused while they watched Zoie as she pounded the first drink and pulled the second closer. “Is everything all right?”
“She’ll be fine. Probably have to drive her home tonight. She’s not usually like this,” Marcus explained, though he had no idea why he needed to justify his friend’s drinking habits. He didn’t push for her to elaborate. She either couldn’t tell him or chose not to discuss whatever case was dragging her through the mud.
“I get it.” Enver touched his chin, turning his focus away from her as she engaged in a conversation with the man beside her. “You care about her. A lot.”
“We have a long history.” Marcus frowned at Enver’s knowing glance. “Not like that. She worked my original case. Went above and beyond her civic duty. Helped me after the trial and our friendship just grew from there. You know, typical straight girl/gay best friend.”
“You also share something that I suspect has bonded you even more.” Enver pressed his palm to the side of Marcus’s face. “I saw the marks on her arms when she came to my workshop. Is she a cutter?”
“Once upon a time.” Marcus lowered his voice. “We both attend the same support group. She doesn’t talk much about why anymore and that’s hers to share, but I suggested she contact Constantine because she’s mentioned covering the scars with some elaborate tattoo work.”
“You’re a good friend for wanting to help.” Enver’s expression softened. “She deserves ten more drinks in thanks for helping you.” He set his hand on Marcus’s hip, brought their bodies together so that Marcus felt the tight ridge of his erection. “And you are anything but typical.”
Marcus opened for Enver as soon as their lips touched, tongues and teeth scraping together. Emboldened, he slid his hand between their bodies to cup Enver’s hard cock. Enver severed the kiss with a soft curse. Marcus simply grinned as he withdrew his hand, snagged his beer and took a long swig. The beer didn’t taste as good as Enver. Nothing tasted as good as Enver.
“Fucking-A, you two are hot.”
Enver chuckled. “I see she shares your gift with vocabulary.”
“What can I say?” Marcus shrugged. “The Padawan learns well.”
Enver rolled his eyes. “And your Star Wars love too.”
Zoie grinned. “Trained in the ways of the Force, he is.”
“Dear Lord.” Though Enver rubbed the lines between his eyebrows, the amusement sparking in his eyes gave away the truth. Marcus felt a bone-deep possessiveness at the sight, possibly more than ever before. Something fundamental had changed between them in Enver’s workshop last week.
He truly did love Enver. The ache burning in his gut signaled that. He’d exposed himself at the workshop. Left himself cold and as naked as their encounter outside the morning after. It had left his soul defenseless as well, but Enver was there to guard it.
The hostess appeared and guided them to their table. Enver excused himself after they’d ordered.
“Holy shit, man.” Zoie tapped her fist on the table a few times. “I have to say, I’m jealous.”
Marcus gave her a cheesy smile. “You’ll have to clarify that envy.”
“Him. You. What you have together. For someone you haven’t known that long, you’ve fallen pretty deep already.” She leaned back, raising her arms and locking her hands behind her head. “I’ve seen a few of the guys you’ve dated, but never anyone like him. I’m proud of you, you know.”
“Why’s that?”
“You could have taken off. Hid away after all the shit in Sacramento.”
“I did,” he reminded her.
“But you’re with him now. Me. Having dinner. Being...normal.”
“I tried to run, but I came back. For him.”
Zoie grinned, springing up and coming around the table to embrace him. “It’s about damn fucking time. Oh my God, I’m so excited for you.” She squealed loud enough to turn a few nearby heads.
Marcus turned serious despite Zoie’s exuberance. “He can break me, Zoie. I’m not certain I’ll be able to put myself together again when he does. And he will—at some point I’m going to fuck things up again just because that’s my nature, and the force that keeps pulling us together is going to shatter us both.”
“Yeah.” She tilted her head. “You will ’cause that’s how love works. But for once, take the risk of getting your heart broken by someone you love. Someone who loves you in return because that’s the best damn heartbreak of all.”
“Sometimes I worry about you, Zoie.”
* * *
Enver returned to the table, sneaking a kiss with Marcus as he sat.
“Monumentally. Not. Fair.”
Enver arched an eyebrow in Zoie’s direction, eliciting a laugh from Marcus. She tossed back the last of her martini, blinking at Enver with glassy eyes. Though he didn’t know her well enough to determine if this was a nightly occurrence, Marcus didn’t appear bothered by her drinking.
Sometimes a person just needed to let loose.
“You’re prettier than he is.” Her words came out slurred.
Marcus snorted, smoothing it ineffectively behind his fist. “S
he’s talking about you.”
“I think she’s talking to the waiter she’s waving over for a refill.” Enver watched her for a time, concerned for her state. “Sure she’s going to be all right?”
“Just needs to forget something. Only does this when jobs get bad, which isn’t often. She’s got a lot of pent-up frustration she isn’t the best at dealing with.” Marcus held up a set of keys. “Besides, I’ve made sure she can’t go anywhere without us.”
“You guys can stop talking over my head. I’m tipsy, not incapable of talking.” She reached over and touched Enver’s face, her clumsy fingers brushing against the side of his nose. “Marcus is so lucky.”
Her face was suffused with pink, a sign the alcohol was truly getting the best of her. Enver snatched the martini glass from in front of her when she reached for it next. He sniffed, frowning. “It’s soda water.”
“Mine.” She yanked it away, licking her lips as she swallowed the last of the liquid. As their waiter passed, she raised the glass. “Can I get another one of these?”
Marcus eyed the waiter, silently communicating their earlier arrangement. “We know it’s water, she doesn’t. I had them switch it out when we got the table. I suspect some of this behavior is exhaustion, so the little bit of alcohol she’s had is hitting her hard.” The food was delivered and the table fell silent as they ate. Conversation started up again about midway through with Marcus picking up the trailing ends of their conversation. “Zoie has a tendency to overwork herself. She’s good at her job, but...fiercely dedicated. Doesn’t know when to call it quits.”
“You’re a good friend to her.” Enver watched as Zoie pushed the remaining food around on her plate. He signaled for a passing waiter. “Can we get a bag for her food and the check, please?”
“I owe her a lot,” Marcus responded after the waiter left.
“Something tells me you’ll spend the rest of your life attempting to make it up to her.”
“Yeah.” Marcus reached over, tangling his fingers with Enver’s. “This was nice, thank you. We’ll have to do it again when it’s a better night for her. She’s going to be pissed at herself for drinking herself stupid.”
“I can hear you.”
Both men fell silent.
“Can’t believe how adorkable you guys are together. You two ever want to add a dysfunctional female to your sexual adventures, give me a call sometime.” She touched Enver’s face again. “So. Fucking. Pretty.”
“Let’s get her home.” Enver handed Marcus his keys. “Take my car. I’ll follow in her truck. At least she doesn’t have her cruiser.”
“Can’t imagine you in a cop car.”
Enver spun the keyring around his finger. “Care for a full-body cavity search?” Zoie chose that exact moment to groan. She slapped her hand over her mouth, her upper body jerking with a few dry heaves. “She throws up in my car, you’ll find out how it feels to get dry-fucked outside of your VR machine.”
“Promises, promises,” Marcus responded with a grin. “If it’s all right, I don’t think she should be alone tonight. Okay if we take her to my place?”
“Going to stop for a carton and I’ll meet you there.”
“Fess up. You’re upset it isn’t her cop car.” Marcus spun his finger in a circle. “You wanted to hear the noisy siren go woo-woo.”
“Guilty as charged.” Enver cut the kiss with Marcus short when Zoie groaned loudly. “Get her home.” He slid behind the wheel of Zoie’s truck, noting how strange it felt to sit in a vehicle that wasn’t his. Despite Marcus’s accusation, he was relieved it wasn’t Zoie’s work vehicle. The last time he’d been in one, he’d been watching EMTs roll his mother into the back of an ambulance. Her assailant had been shoved into the back of another cruiser, his fellow officers shaking their head in disbelief at the level of violence in his mother’s injuries.
As he shook off the threads of that night, he pulled out of the lot and thought about the evening. He had instantly liked Zoie, feeling a kinship with her that went above and beyond their mutual connection with Marcus, despite his wariness of cops. She’d been through something in her life that caused her to push so hard at her job. Given the information Marcus had confessed about how they knew each other, Enver didn’t doubt that she gave her all to each and every case she was assigned. Zoie was a permanent fixture in Marcus’s life, and to love him was to love her as well.
He belatedly realized the light he’d stopped at had turned green at some point. He held up a hand in apology to the car behind him, wondering why they hadn’t honked to alert him.
After stopping for a carton, he pulled up to Marcus’s house. The driveway was empty and the house was still dark. Odd. Marcus should have beaten him here by ten minutes. Unless, of course, he’d needed to stop while Zoie dumped the contents of her stomach on the side of the road. Ah, youth. He’d had a few of those benders under his belt when he’d been that age.
Once inside, he settled on the couch and kicked back, turning on the television for some background noise while he waited.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Think I’m gonna barf.” Zoie followed the statement with a groan as she fidgeted in the passenger seat.
Marcus pulled the car into a parking lot, and killed the engine. When he glanced over and saw Zoie was clutching her stomach and mouth, he leaned over and pushed the door open. Enver would have his ass if his spotless interior was coated with a layer of vomit.
“Out,” he ordered, pushing on her shoulder to aim her a different direction.
She groaned again as she leaned to the side. Seconds later, her body gave a sudden lurch. He winced, setting a hand on her back and rubbing small circles to soothe her. Best thing was just to let her get it out.
Zoie moaned as she dragged herself upright and slumped against the bench seat. “Oh God. I think I’m gonna die.” She winced as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Marcus fired up the engine again, pulling back out onto the deserted street. “Promise you’re going to live. Won’t like it much for the next twelve hours or so, but you’ll survive.”
“He loves you.”
The seatbelt suddenly felt too tight against his chest. He tugged, realizing it wasn’t the restraint at all, but a heavy feeling right in the center. As he turned onto Main, the line of stores dark because of the late hour, he decided to downplay her statement. “Alcohol’s talking, Zo.”
“I’m drunk, not blind.” Her head rolled to the side, her tongue darting between her lips as she stuck it out at him. “Neither are you, because you love him too. I’ve known you a long time, Marcus. Never seen you this head over ass about someone, and I don’t want you to lose something so good for you.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “You deserve it.”
“I know. I’ve thought about—holy shit!” Marcus swerved to avoid a car that had appeared from nowhere. He overcorrected, feeling the backend of the heavy vehicle start to fishtail. He jerked the wheel in the other direction, realizing too late that they were headed right for one of the storefronts.
Marcus jammed on the brakes, the pedal connecting with the floorboard as the system failed. They vaulted the curb and an instant later smashed through a bench on the sidewalk, followed by a sickening thud as the car slammed into the building and came to an abrupt halt.
He blinked, trying to process what had just happened. He took immediate stock, noting a few bruises and scrapes, but no significant damage as he disengaged his seatbelt. “You okay, Zoie?”
“Yeah.” She coughed once, tugged off her seatbelt and threw up all over Enver’s once-pristine dashboard.
He tried the door, but it was pinned by a large metal trashcan he’d sideswiped. “Going to make sure I didn’t hit anyone. Sure you’re okay?” After she nodded, he pulled himself through the window, noting the starburst pattern on the windshield where it had cracked from the force of the cras
h.
As he stepped away from the ruined car, he noticed he’d destroyed the ancient bench outside Three Mile Bookstore. The right front of Enver’s car was folded accordion style thanks to the solid brick storefront. Steam and smoke billowed from the busted radiator.
“He’s going to kill me.” Marcus whistled as he continued to tally the rest of the damages. Shattered headlights. Crumpled front quarter panel. Crushed steel bumper. The list went on. Thankfully, the sturdily built car looked to have sustained the brunt of the damage, which had saved them from more significant injuries.
“You all right, buddy?”
“I think so.” Marcus started to turn toward the voice, but felt a sharp jab in his neck. “What the—” Everything immediately whirled before his eyes, a pinwheel of shapes and colors. He stumbled, a strong hand capturing his.
“Easy there.”
“I don’t feel good.” As the shadowed figure stepped into the puddle of light cast from the nearby streetlight, Marcus went down on one knee. The last thing he saw was Davis Connelly’s maniacal grin.
* * *
Golden sunlight and unfamiliar voices caused Enver to wince as he surfaced from sleep. He must have left his light-blocking blinds open before falling asleep. Moving to stretch, he realized he wasn’t in his bed. Rubbing at his eyes, he groaned as he sat up, his back protesting loudly with a sharp twinge right down his spine. His vision took a few seconds to adjust, but when it cleared he realized the television was the source of the noise. Someone screamed as the camera panned up to show a tornado chewing up the ground.
The room fell silent as he shut off the action movie. Looking around, he realized this wasn’t his living room, or even his house. Marcus. He was in Marcus’s house. He’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Marcus and Zoie to arrive. He must have been so out of it they hadn’t wanted to wake him.
Enver stood, shrugging off his jacket, suddenly feeling overheated. He prepped a pot of coffee, knowing they would all need some fuel. Enver made his way to the bedroom, noting the closed door of the second bedroom where Zoie was probably sleeping off the last of her bender. She wouldn’t want anything to eat, but they’d force some water and protein into her.
