Ghost of a Chance

by Kris T. Bethke

  There was no way he could. “Maybe. But it’s still not a good idea.”

  “That’s crap. This is about Steve.”

  Blake scowled. “No it’s—”

  “And Jake.”

  “Now wait a min—”

  “And whatever the hell his name was. The guy from high school.”

  “Carlos.”

  Sam shot him a look. “I don’t actually give a crap what his name was. You know that, right? This is about you picking jerks who can’t handle what you are and what you do—who you are. So don’t even try and say Derek is the same way.”

  Sam might have had a point with all of that, but Blake wouldn’t admit it, except the part about Derek. There was no way Derek would use him and cast him aside. Derek was too kind, too caring, to ever do something like that.

  “It’s still a bad idea all around.”

  Sam scoffed, and his scowl was back. “You keep telling yourself that. Hey.” He leaned closer, and his face cleared into a look of concern. “Why do you keep rubbing your chest? Are you not healed?”

  “What? No. I’m fine.” Blake dropped his hand. He wasn’t even aware that he’d been pressing against his sternum.

  “You’re a lot of things, but I wouldn’t say fine was one of them. You’re a chicken.”

  “Yeah, maybe I am.” Blake glared. Sam was supposed to be on his side. “Tell me though, how’s it coming, telling King how you feel?”

  “What the… wait. You know what? We’re both too sleep deprived for this conversation. You know when we don’t get enough sleep, we start sniping.” Sam softened the whole thing with a small smile.

  Blake returned it and laughed. “Yeah. That’s true. I’m going to head home.”

  Sam stood and walked him to the door. “Just think about what I said. Okay, Blake?”

  Blake nodded. He didn’t know how he’d be able to think about anything else.

  GHOSTWALKERS didn’t get sick because their cells regenerated too quickly for any illness to take hold. They didn’t get sick days. They could, however, call in if they needed time. Mental health days, King called them. And if there ever was a day when Blake needed one….

  He expected Derek’s text, but it came a lot sooner than he anticipated. Not able to sleep, he had cuddled up on the couch with his softest blanket, not watching infomercials for things like magic cleaners and nonstick pans. So he was awake when, at not quite five, his phone chimed the first time.

  Sorry you had to leave. I would have driven you if you woke me.

  Okay, that was innocuous enough. Blake could have woken Derek up and told him he wanted his own bed, and Derek would have taken him home, probably with little argument and only a little cajoling to stay. But Blake couldn’t face him, because if he had, he wouldn’t have left. That made him a coward.

  The next text came a couple of hours after that. The morning show had started, and the chime happened just as one of the newscasters smiled. Blake would have laughed if he was in the mood.

  Can you just let me know you’re okay? Thanks B.

  He almost responded to that one. Seemed crappy not to. Derek was worried, and Blake could ease that just by saying he was fine. Well, Derek would probably still worry, but at least he’d know Blake was alive and well. If their positions were reversed, Blake would want the same courtesy. But every text he composed in his head sounded forced or fake, and he was sure Derek would read right through them. He was still mulling over how to respond when the phone chimed again.

  I’m really worried, baby. Give me something.

  That endearment was going to be the death of him. He just knew it. He loved the way Derek said it, all deep and low, and it made his stomach flip every time. But encouraging that kind of talk would lead to even deeper feelings, and he couldn’t let that happen. His chest ached, and his head hurt. Probably from lack of sleep. And the crying. He’d have to take a painkiller before he’d actually be able to sleep. He had the good ones—the result of repeatedly getting run through with a sword. He’d sleep for twelve hours straight. And if he was sleeping that hard, he wouldn’t have to think.

  He called King first.

  “I’m not coming in today,” he said as soon as King answered.

  There was a long moment of silence, and Blake was certain King was judging him. It made him grateful that King couldn’t read a person through the phone. At least he was pretty sure he couldn’t. The silence stretched, and then King blew out a breath.

  “You all right?”

  He wasn’t, but he couldn’t tell King that. Besides, it didn’t actually have anything to do with his ability to do the job.

  “I just need a day. After Archie.” That wasn’t even a complete lie.

  Another pregnant pause. “All right. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Blake hung up and then banged himself in the forehead twice with the phone. He would have to tell Derek that he was staying home from work. But that would make Derek worry even more. Perhaps King had already called him? Told him not to come in? No. He was pretty sure that it was his job to inform his anchor that he needed a day off. King probably assumed Derek already knew.

  The phone in his hand rang, and Derek’s smiling face popped up on the screen. Well, the smile itself was hidden behind his favorite tea mug, but his eyes were shining and happy. Blake loved that picture.

  He let it go to voicemail. When it chimed, letting him know there was a new message, he hit play and then the speaker button.

  “Okay. You know I’m freaking out over here. After everything… just talk to me, baby. Please. I’ll do whatever you want me to. But I need to hear you. Okay? Just… call me or text me or something.”

  The ache in Blake’s chest got wider and turned into a physical pain. He breathed deeply, trying to get it to ease. His head hurt worse than before, and he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. That was not a feeling he was accustomed to, at least not unless he’d just finished a ghostwalk. And even then it was just queasiness, a slight rolling of his stomach that let him know food was a bad idea at that moment. He pushed off the blanket and slowly sat up. That helped a little. He needed to text Derek before he took a pill and went to sleep. He made it quick.

  I’m okay. Just need a day. See you tomorrow.

  Blake stood carefully, but nausea rose in his throat. What was wrong with him? For just a moment, Blake wondered if maybe it could be an anchor bond. But just as quickly as the thought formed, Blake pushed it away. There was no way that could be happening to him and Derek. It was such a rare thing, Blake wasn’t even entirely sure it actually existed, no matter what Archie had said.

  A delayed effect from yesterday? That had never happened before, but it had been a particularly intense ghostwalk. Maybe he just hadn’t replenished enough. Water first, then the pill, then sleep. He’d be fine after that. He had to be.

  He made it to the kitchen on shaky legs and decided he might try orange juice instead. He slowly sipped, taking small swallows and letting each one hit his stomach and settle before he tried another. The natural sugar helped immensely, and by the time he was done, he felt more steady.

  His blood sugar had probably just dropped. That made sense. He had lost a lot of blood yesterday, and the dinner last night could only replenish so much, especially after the vigorous sex he and Derek had. He probably burned all the calories he’d put in his body. No matter how nutritious Derek’s food was, healing took a lot of energy. Blake only had so much to spare. Absently rubbing his chest, he headed for his room.

  He was halfway there when the sound of a loud knock startled him. He froze and waited, but the door didn’t open. Sam would have used his key if he were worried enough to bang. That meant it could only be one person. Could he ignore it? He shook his head, which caused a wave of dizziness. If he ignored it, he’d have Derek and Sam at his door in minutes.

  Time to man up and answer the door.

  Derek’s face was gray and drawn. Worry caused him to look far older than normal.
That pang in Blake’s chest intensified, but Derek reached out and touched his shoulder, and Blake’s eyes welled with tears. He stepped forward at the same time Derek did, and all the pain immediately eased the moment Derek pulled him into his arms.

  “Okay. Okay, B. Let’s take this inside and talk. We’ll work through it.”

  Blake nodded and made to move back, but Derek held him tighter, kicked the door shut behind him, and tried to pick Blake up. The absurdity of it made him laugh. Derek could lift him, but he was wearing his winter coat and hat, and Blake could just imagine the picture they made.

  “I’m all right. Take your stuff off and hang it in the closet. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Derek leaned back to peer at his face. He gave Blake a tremulous smile and did as Blake suggested. True to his word, Blake didn’t move a single step. When Derek was done, Blake took his hand and led him into the living room. He nudged Derek down on the couch, used the remote to turn off the TV, and then sat beside him—though he refrained from draping himself all over him like he wanted to.

  Suddenly, with Derek there, the past few hours seemed ridiculous. He didn’t know why he snuck out in the first place, let alone why he ignored Derek’s text and call. It seemed childish and silly now that he had a clearer head.

  “I owe you an explanation.”

  Derek’s gaze roamed all over his face, seemingly unable to settle on any one part. He was checking Blake over, making sure he was really okay. Blake knew he didn’t look it. A sleepless night had that effect on him. Not to mention the overthinking, the worry, the crying, and the pain.

  Which had disappeared. That was weird. But he’d worry about it later.

  “Just tell me what’s going on.” Derek’s voice was still laced with worry and, if Blake wasn’t mistaken, a little bit of hurt. He reached out a hand, and when Derek didn’t pull away, laced their fingers together.

  God, that felt so good. He’d always enjoyed being touched, but Derek’s touch felt so much better than anyone else’s ever had. He reveled in the feeling, let it wash through him, and sighed.

  “I freaked out.”

  Derek barked out a surprised laugh and shook his head. “That much is evident. Tell me why?”

  “That”—Blake dropped his gaze to where their hands were joined. He did love the way their skin looked pressed together—“is a very complicated answer.”

  Derek settled back. “I have all the time in the world, considering we’re not going to work today.”

  Blake smiled—a real smile—and sighed. “I guess I better put on the coffee, then.”

  Derek smiled back. “I’ll wait.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  WHEN he woke up that morning, Derek knew instantly that Blake was no longer in the house. He felt it deep inside. That didn’t stop him from getting up and looking, checking every room even after he noticed the bag and coat were missing. The note propped against his favorite mug was little comfort.

  Derek,

  I had to get home. See you later.

  Thanks for everything. You’re amazing.

  B

  No love. Not even a heart or a yours. He couldn’t even be bothered to write out his whole name, though perhaps that was because Derek had taken to calling him B. Derek really preferred baby, and even though Blake had said not to use it, he hadn’t seemed to mind when they were in bed.

  He tried to tell himself not to panic, to play it off like it was all okay. There had to be a reasonable explanation why Blake left in the middle of the night and got someone else to come pick him up. All he had to do was ask, and Blake would explain.

  But his texts went unanswered. And the phone call. And then Blake finally responded with some lame excuse of needing the day off? The worry he had stuffed down returned full force, along with a searing pain in his chest.

  So he drove to Blake’s house, ready to break down the door if he had to or call Sam. Something. He needed to see that Blake was truly all right. The clawing fear in his gut wouldn’t let him stop until he knew, until he saw it with his own eyes.

  Thank God Blake opened the door.

  The moment he pulled Blake into his arms, his panic, worry, and the ache in his chest all eased. He cared for Blake more than he thought possible, and the relief at having him there with him was so acute that Derek got light-headed.

  When Blake returned with his coffee in one hand, he carried a mug of tea in the other. He handed the latter over, and Derek was touched that Blake had thought of him.

  “It’s just regular black tea in a bag. Sorry. It’s all I had.”

  Derek tried for a smile. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

  Blake resumed his seat. Derek wanted him closer, but he wouldn’t push it. Not yet. He stayed where he was and wrapped both hands around his mug. Blake shuffled and slid a bit closer until their knees touched. His shoulders relaxed, and Derek’s smile turned more real.

  “So I don’t want to get into my whole sordid history, but suffice it to say, I haven’t had the best track record when it comes to guys.” Blake sipped from his mug, grimaced like it was too hot, but took another sip anyway. “Sam says it’s because I’ve made bad choices. I don’t know. Maybe he’s right. But they always leave me when I tell them what I am. Or freak when they see the way I react.”

  Blake went silent, and Derek nodded to encourage him. “You mentioned that before.”

  “Right. So.” Blake stared at the far wall. Apparently he found the castle painting very interesting. “And then there’s the whole work thing, right? I mean, fraternizing is really discouraged, and it makes sense why. Especially between pairs. If it goes wrong, we’re both screwed. And we would have no choice but to work together.”

  Derek had to admit that was a valid concern, but in their case, it was a cop-out. “Sure. But neither one of us wants it to end. So if we jump in, if we go forward, we work hard to make it work.”

  Blake squinted at him as though he were actually considering that point. “But we’d always be together. Work, home. Wouldn’t we get sick of each other? Get on each other’s nerves?”

  “Maybe,” Derek allowed, even though he knew he’d never get sick of Blake. “But people who don’t work together have that problem. We have different interests. We’d take time apart if we needed it. You would go out with your brother or Shona, maybe. I’d drive to Rochester with Dom and visit the big book store. It’s doable.”

  Blake startled. “I didn’t realize you and Dom were becoming friends.”

  “See? We aren’t in each other’s pockets all the time.” Derek laughed when Blake gave a sheepish grin. “We ran into each other in the cafeteria a couple weeks back and got to commiserating about working with the Jones brothers.”

  Blake’s scowl was adorable. “You shouldn’t be discussing us.”

  “It was all in good fun. I promise. But the point is, there are things we can do apart if that’s your big worry. King will deal with our relationship, and so will everyone else. What matters is we take care of us.”

  “That’s not my big worry.” Blake’s voice was soft, and he made a point of not looking Derek in the eye.

  And there it was—the heart of the matter. Derek leaned forward, set his cup on the coffee table, and placed a hand on Blake’s knee. The rubbing was automatic. He knew it soothed Blake to be touched in comforting ways, and he was conditioned to do that. Under his hand, Blake’s tension melted a little. He kept his gaze fixed on Derek. That was a definite improvement.

  “Okay. Tell me your big worry.”

  “There’s the whole thing about what happens when you die. Even if that’s not until seventy years from now. I’ll spend the next fifty or more after that alone. How do I do that? Knowing I’ll lose you and have to live the rest of my life without you.”

  Ah. Of course. Derek should have known. There had been little hints before. But yesterday with Archie and the way he loved his wife, it all made sense. Blake had gone to the cemetery assuming Archie would be there, and he had been.
So logic followed he’d been at his wife’s grave. That kind of devotion was hard to live up to.

  “You see us together in seventy years?” Derek tried for levity, but it fell flat. Blake frowned, and Derek wanted to reach out and soothe that V of worry from between his eyes.

  “I’m serious here. I’m not that strong.”

  Derek took the cup from Blake, set it aside, and then held both Blake’s hands in his own. He made sure he had Blake’s complete attention and those worried blue eyes were solely on his.

  “So am I. And I think you are.” Derek smiled. “You focus on the seventy years we have together. You think of how amazing seven decades will be. And then, when I go, you know that I’ll be waiting on the other side of the light for you.”

  Blake’s eyes filled, but he blinked hard. He cleared his throat. “But what if we don’t work at all? What if we fizzle and fade once the heat burns out?”

  “I believe I’ve already addressed that concern,” Derek teased.

  Blake gave a weak chuckle. “Derek.”

  “Look, I’m not going to push. I would never do that to you.” He caught Blake’s gaze again, and only when he nodded did Derek continue. “But I think we can be amazing. I feel more connected to you than anyone I’ve ever met. I want you—mind, body, and soul. So I’d like to see where it goes. I think it can go all the way to the end.”

  “I’m scared,” Blake admitted in a whisper.

  “That’s okay,” Derek soothed. He gently pulled Blake toward him, and Blake came willingly and settled against his chest as though he were made to be there. As far as Derek was concerned, he was. “Nothing worth doing in this world isn’t a little scary. I’ve got you. And I’ve got enough faith for both of us until you can get there yourself.”

  “Yeah.” Blake’s voice sounded sleepy. “Yeah, okay.”

  Blake’s body became heavy against him, and his breathing slowed like it did right before he fell asleep. Derek leaned down and kissed the top of his head, loving that Blake smelled like his soap. With Blake’s natural scent underlying the mint of Derek’s body wash, he smelled like a combination of them both. It settled something deep inside him.