by BA Tortuga
“SHANE, HONEY. Are you going to call Galen?”
He shook his head, face buried in the newspaper, trying to wake up. He’d been dreaming about zombies in New Orleans chasing him through the Café du Monde and trying to eat his balls. “I don’t know what to say.”
Was he supposed to apologize?
Was he supposed to scream?
Was he supposed to just ask? Hey, Galen. It’s been weeks. Weeks since we saw each other. Talked. Laughed.
Months since he felt like they were something special.
Since he felt like he was enough.
“How about ‘I miss you’?”
“I’ve said that enough, Momma. I ain’t telling him that, ever again.”
She sighed, patted his shoulder. “Oh, honey. I bet you do. I really bet you do.”
Chapter Fifteen
SHANE GRABBED his duffel, shoving dirty laundry and shit all in together with the clean.
Him and Momma’d been watching the news and….
Hurricane.
Not here. Not even up north with Galen.
But home.
With Galen’s house. Galen’s life. Right there fixing to get whomped.
Goddamn it.
A smarter man would just sit tight.
Hell, a smarter man would laugh and tell himself Galen deserved this.
A smarter man would definitely not be driving into a big-assed storm to save his possibly ex-lover’s house.
Good thing he wasn’t very smart, huh?
GOD ALMIGHTY. Galen got to the house around 6:00 a.m., and it had never felt so damned empty. He was so fucking tired he could hardly see, and the damned rain was coming down in sheets. The wind howled around the house.
Howled. The dogs. They weren’t there. They hadn’t met him in the yard or at the door. Goddamn it. Shane’s Jeep was gone, the dogs were gone…. So was the dog food and bowls and everything. Fuck.
He needed some sleep. Hell, he needed to know where Shane was.
Galen grabbed his cell and tried calling Shane again, sighing as it went straight to voicemail. Growling, he reared back to throw the phone before thinking better of it. He might need it if the landline went out.
Christ, the storm was just getting worse.
There was no way he could call around to see if Shane was with Wade or one of the other guys. None of them would even be alive at this time of the morning, and God knew he wasn’t sure if his pride could take another blow like that. Asking if they’d seen the man he let down over and over. Galen grabbed a bottle of water and headed to the bedroom, his head feeling like it was going to explode.
He’d catch a few hours of sleep, then get up and start hunting.
He’d bring Shane’s ass home to him no matter what it took. Damn the storm and Frank and everyone and everything else in the world. There was no way he was gonna let Shane go.
No way.
Momma.
Storm’s coming for Galen’s house. I can’t just leave it empty.
I got to go take care of things. I got the dogs. I took some Cokes and made a couple of sammiches. I left you twenty dollars under the cookie jar.
I’ll call. You tell Galen to stay put, yeah? Stay safe.
I love you so.
Shane
GALEN WAITED for the phone to ring. Seemed like all he’d been doing lately was wait for it to ring, then waiting for someone to pick up. Then leaving messages when no one did. He’d been up since ten, listening to the storm rage outside, listening to the phone not ring back.
Goddamn that fucking Frank. If Galen ever intended to see the man again, he’d rip that thick head off the guy’s bull neck and piss down the hole. He didn’t intend to, though, so it was a moot point.
Come on, Momma. Pick up.
“’Lo?”
Oh, thank God. He’d started thinking she’d never fucking answer her goddamn phone again.
“Momma. Where the hell is Shane? I came home, and he wasn’t here, and he’s not with that Wade guy….” He’d finally broken down and called Wade at about nine, waking the man out of a solid hangover and getting a frantic “He’s gone?” response.
“Well, you know, son, you’d think you know where your man is….”
“Not now, Momma.” He rubbed his forehead, hurting something fierce. The damned storm was making his sinuses ache. “I know what happened, and it’s all a mistake. I just need to talk to him.”
Galen needed to make it right, if he could.
“You’re damned right you do, son. If you’d just seen how he looked at me, like he’d lost his whole world.”
Oh for fuck’s….
Wait.
What?
“He’s with you? Oh Jesus, tell me he’s with you.” A day of driving and he could be right there.
“No, honey. He was, but he heard there was a bad storm coming y’all’s way, and he was worried about the house. He just left with a note. I found it this morning, honey. He must’ve left in the night. He took the dogs.”
“Shit.” Shit. Shane wasn’t answering his cell. Hadn’t been for days. “When did you go to bed?”
That way he at least had a time range for Shane leaving.
“I don’t know….” He heard her sigh, the sound familiar and worried. “We stayed up and watched the news, so ten thirty? He was talking about heading to New Orleans, but the second he saw that storm barreling down on y’all’s place, I could see him start to worry.”
“Yeah?” Hell, he knew it was something big, but he hadn’t even watched the news. He’d been out of his mind with other kinds of worry. “Can you call his cell? Maybe he’ll answer for you.”
“I been trying, baby. I hate to think of him driving tired, in bad weather.”
“You’re not helping, Momma. If I knew where he was, I’d go get him.” He’d hunt that fine little ass down and never let it go again.
“Don’t you growl at me, Galen Michael Frost. You need to pull your head out of your ass and decide what’s important for you, figure out what makes you happy, and go with it.”
“I have, Momma. I promise. I…. You got no idea how I felt when I heard Frank’s message, knew what had sent Shane running….”
A fucking vacation timeshare. An investment. That was what Frank was supposed to set up. Something he could help Shane invest his retirement fund in. The fucking lying bastard. And Galen had trusted him when he fucking knew better.
“I told him. I told him you’d never do that, son. I know you.” The faith in Momma’s voice helped. It helped a lot, knowing she believed in him. She might give him all kinds of hell for at least a year, but she knew him.
Now the question was why the hell Shane hadn’t.
“I’ll call you when he gets here, Momma. Don’t worry. I’ll make it right.”
Somehow.
Chapter Sixteen
THE WIND was howling, the rain barely starting to hit the Jeep. Come on. Come on. Shane was so fucking tired it hurt—bone-deep. He’d been on the road since 2:00 a.m., and the weather had held at windy and drizzly, up to about dark on the other side.
Then all hell had started to break loose. Fucking weather.
Fucking storm.
Fucking Florida.
Fucking Galen.
Goob and Khan were howling to beat the band, the Jeep was getting blown all over the goddamn road, and he needed to get home—get the lanterns set up and the windows covered and….
It was still home, damn it, and he needed to get her stormworthy.
Shane pulled down the gravel road toward the bait shop, howling along with Goob and Khan, which was way fucking better than screaming at them to shut the fuck up.
Home.
They knew, though. Knew they were almost home. How the hell dogs knew this shit…. Fuck, that twisted cypress almost took him out, crashing right off to the side of the Jeep.
“Jesus.” He wanted to stop, but he knew if he did, he’d just be fucked, so he floored it. The Jeep vibrated, tires jittering on the
wet gravel. Goddamn it. Come on. Come on. Just a few minutes more.
The sound of his tires squealing in mud almost made him cry out in rage. He was so….
Whoa. The outside floodlights were on.
Goddamn it. Nobody better be squatting in the house. He’d kick their asses.
He managed to get the Jeep to the bait shop, and then he gave up. Hell, he needed plywood anyway.
Yeah.
Plywood.
“Y’all get your hairy asses into the house. Right now. If there’s a stranger, Khan, bite their balls off.”
Khan and Goob took off, their howling turning to high-pitched barks of joy. Oh. Maybe it was someone they knew, coming out to check on the house. Maybe Wade decided to dock the boat. Shane headed to the bait shop and grabbed one of the boxes of camping gear and….
Dude.
Where was the toolbox?
“Shane? Shane! Is that you, darlin’?” The light from one of the lanterns cut a swathe through the storm, and damned if that didn’t sound like… Galen.
“Len?” Oh. Oh shit. He didn’t. He wasn’t. He wasn’t ready to.
Shit.
“Shane. Come help me board up the last two windows. And get the damned dogs inside before the gators get them.”
Okay. Okay, he could handle all-business Galen.
He didn’t answer, just slid the gear across the porch and went to help, getting one board up before getting the dogs in and heading back for the Jeep to get his shit and the pups’ dishes.
Wait.
Maybe he should just go.
Maybe he….
The rain started coming harder, hitting fast enough that it stung his skin, drenching him, just like that.
Fuck.
Galen appeared out of the rain and dragged him toward the house, all wet and bare skin and… Len.
“I….” Jesus, the man looked good. So fucking good.
They ran hard, the tree branches slapping the living shit out of them, the wind swirling around them, trying to knock them off their feet. Christ.
Christ.
“Shane! The back door! It’s not boarded yet. Help me get it shut.” It was banging back and forth, the dogs in the kitchen, barking at it like crazy.
“Okay. Okay.” Together they managed to get the door shut, the glass shattering, sprinkling them and the kitchen. Shane braced himself against the door, face turned away from the shit blowing in, sticking in his skin. The fucking wind sounded like a freight train, just headed straight for them. “Get me a board!”
“Got it!” They worked like a real team, just like they always had. Just like Galen didn’t mean to leave him all washed up.
It didn’t matter. They had to save the house. And the dogs.
He was keeping both of the fucking dogs, no matter what.
Damn it.
They fought the storm, both of them grunting and groaning, cussing up a storm of their own. Then the board finally fit into place, the last nail going in, and the fury suddenly became muted, the wind not so close, so immediate.
Galen stared at him, those dark eyes so serious, so careful. He just stared back a second, not knowing what the fuck to say.
Hey, Galen. Came back to save the house you’re selling?
Hey, Len. Left you, but I worry, so I drove all night.
How’s the football business, stranger?
None of that worked even a little.
“I better get the glass up. The pups’ll get into it.” Good. That was good. Business. Broom.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll corral them in the master bath. No windows.” Galen dragged both dogs off, howling and whining. The dogs. Not Galen. Galen was eerily silent.
He swept and filled up both sinks with water, trying his damnedest not to look at the fucking answering machine. Christ, he was tired.
And there was glass all in his shirt.
The sound of the fridge opening and closing made him jump. Galen handed him a beer, smiling a little. “Hey, darlin’. Perfect timing.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that old cypress went as I came in.” He popped the top, sucked the beer down, the cold hitting his empty stomach with a splash.
“I heard it.” The man stared hard at him, looking tired and worn. Unshaven, bags under his eyes, all pasty; Galen looked beautiful. “Been trying to call you.”
“Yeah. I didn’t have my phone on.” He just stood there, trying to get his brain to do something. “I don’t like them much, those phones.”
“I know. I just needed to tell you what happened, Shane. I was starting to figure you’d never want to hear it ’til I talked to Momma.” One long step forward brought Galen right to him, hands landing on his shoulders.
“I….” He took a deep breath, just breathed in the scent of rain and Galen and home, let it fill him up for a second. “This is a bad idea, Galen. I’m real tired. I don’t know if I can deal with shit right now.”
Not when he was feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.
“Shane? Honey, look at me. I want you to know one thing before I feed you and put you to bed, okay?” Look at that man. So much like his momma. Those eyes were just the same. “Frank was lying.”
“Why?” That didn’t make any sense. Of course, none of this made any sense. “Are y’all? I mean, does he want…?” Shane sighed, shook his head, just sick with it. “Fuck this. I’m going to bed. I’ll sleep in Momma’s room, if you want, but I’m going to bed.”
“No, I don’t want you to sleep in Momma’s bed!” Galen shook him a little. “This is all my fucking fault. But I want you, darlin’. So bad.” Len pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, just holding on like the man was never gonna let go.
“You’re gonna get glass on you.” He leaned hard, nuzzling Galen’s shoulder, telling himself to just stop, to just step away. He couldn’t, though. He loved the stupid son of a bitch. Always had.
“I don’t care.” Kissing his cheek, Galen led him back toward the bedroom. Which was all candlelit and boarded up like Fort Knox and… somehow safe. “Get changed and cleaned up, darlin’. I’ll get some soup.”
Shane nodded, heading in to wash his face, strip down, and put on something dry. Goob and Khan watched him the whole time, tails still, ears held low. “It’s okay, guys. It’ll be okay.”
One way or the other. That’s what Momma’d say.
He got his shorts on and plopped down into the bed.
“You feel better? Get the glass off?” Len came in with biscuits for the pups and canned chicken soup and iced tea for them. It all seemed so normal that he wanted to scream.
“Yeah.” He sat there, stared at his hands. He’d never left anyone before, much less come back. Well, he’d left Galen once, but that hadn’t worked out all that well, had it?
Christ, his head hurt.
“Shane? The storm isn’t gonna blow out anytime soon. I’ll keep watch. You get some sleep.” Those broad shoulders slumped, and Galen patted him on the arm before putting the tray of soup and all on the nightstand. “You need anything, you holler. Okay?”
“Okay.” God, he wanted to apologize; he wanted to push into Galen’s arms and just take a kiss. “You… for once you picked a bad time to come home, huh? Weather’s for shit.”
“No, I got home just in time.” Galen shrugged. “At least I hope I did. But you need to rest. You’re in no place to hear what I want to say. I just…. Please just say you’ll listen when you’re feeling better?”
“Have I ever not?” A little flare of anger caught him, just a little one. “I’m the idiot who’s been waiting around for you.”
“I know. I know that.” That wasn’t shouting. Not really, but he could tell Len was on the very edge of it. Fine tremors shook Galen’s hands. “I’m sorry, Shane. I know I’m an asshole, and you got no reason to stay around. But I love you.”
“Stop it.” He stood up, head pounding, beer hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I don’t. I mean, you just go and you got all these people and all this stuff that’s important, and I�
��m a fucking suds-puller, and I got nothing to give you, and then there’s Wade, and… I don’t want to just stay here and get old and shit and wait for you to decide you don’t want me.”
Christ, he’d got diarrhea of the mouth.
“Shane.” That agonized look tore at him. “I quit. I’ve got my lawyer ending the contract now. I’m not going back to work with Frank. I came home for you. And. Jesus. You weren’t here. I don’t ever want to do that again.” Len was on him again, right in front of him, hands hovering over his shoulders, like the man was afraid to touch him.
“I couldn’t. Wade keeps asking what’s wrong with me and—what?” Quit?
“Wade can’t have you.” This time Len did touch him, gripping his upper arms. “You hear? And Frank can’t tell you I’m selling the house. Shit, darlin’. I asked him to do me one favor. He was supposed to just get us an agent to do some investments…. Lying sack of shit. No wonder you hated his ass.”
“He’s nasty. I told you that.” Investments. Investments. Shane’s knees buckled. Oh fuck. He was a fucking idiot.
Len caught him, easing down to the bed and pulling him down so he sat on Galen’s lap. “I’m sorry. I know…. When you called me. I should have talked—” The boards on the window bowed in, two of the candles blowing out.
“Jesus.” He looked around, shook his head. “You think we need more boards?”
This fucking storm was kicking ass. This wasn’t no small tropical storm. This was a real hurricane.
“I think we might.” Shaking his head, Galen stood him up and moved around the room, checking their defenses.
“Okay.” He grabbed his flip-flops. “I’ll grab what I can. You watch the dogs so they don’t get out.”
“You be careful,” Galen said, giving him a hard look. “I want your ass in one piece, darlin’. I mean it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I hear you. You stay in here with the dogs.” He headed out the side door to the covered porch, the debris just slamming everywhere. Jesus. Jesus, he’d never make the fucking shop. Shane figured he’d give it a try, though, dropping as low as he could and heading around the side of the house.
