Hurricane

by BA Tortuga

  He was going to have to get serious about this, he could tell.

  Shane just never could figure out how to say no, to anyone.

  His phone rang, Dylan’s face showing up.

  Galen frowned but answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey. It’s Dylan. There was a fight, and some asshole broke the boss’s phone. Shane got the baseball bat out, and now the cops are here.”

  “Oh shit. I’ll bring his spare.” And possibly pay the bail if Shane got mad.

  “Yeah, thanks. I… I’m fairly sure he’s gonna have to go with them. The asshole’s already gone in the ambulance.” Dylan’s voice dropped. “Man, will they do a piss test on him? Because…. You know.”

  “Shit. He can refuse it for the time being. I’ll see what I can do.” Galen had a few friends.

  “Okay. Okay, I’ll see you soon.” Dylan hung up, leaving him with dead air.

  Goddamn it. How the hell was this still spinning out of control? He got keys, wallet, phones.

  When he got there, the cops were leaving, and the lights were on up in Shane’s office. Oh, thank God. No trips to jail tonight. He climbed the stairs, remembering how he and Shane had used this office back when it was Bev’s bar.

  He heard the music from the little iPod, heard the sound of Shane’s pacing.

  Galen took a deep breath before stepping in.

  Shane turned around, one eye swelled near shut, lip split. “Hey.”

  “Christ, darlin’. What happened?” All his calm went out the window.

  “There was a fight. Asshole broke my fucking phone. My phone, man! Fucking hate pricks that think they can fuck with me because I’m little. I ain’t that fucking short.” Jesus, Shane was wired for sound.

  “I know. I, uh, brought your spare.”

  “Thank you.” Shane looked at him, eyes twitching away. “Jesus, I hate assholes.”

  “Darlin’, I think you need to back off the uppers.” What the hell else could he say?

  “You tell me how to do all this without them and I will. I can’t sleep anymore.”

  “I told you that you didn’t have to!” They’d made inroads too, which somehow hadn’t worked.

  “I tried! I’m trying!” Shane slammed his hand down on the desk, hard. “Just go home, Galen. I’ll be fine.”

  “No. Look at you, Shane. You’re so fucking wired you can’t see. You’re all beat up.” Damn it, they weren’t going to do this.

  “I know! I know, man, and I’m scared.”

  No. No fear. He grabbed Shane, hugging the man tight.

  Shane wrapped around him, the taut little body just thrumming like a tanned, musclely hummingbird. Hell, the way Shane’s heart was beating, it was like he’d swallowed a hummingbird.

  “Okay. We’re going home. Now.”

  He didn’t wait for Shane to answer. Hell, he just headed out, his better half’s arm in hand. If he had to drag Shane home, he would.

  Shane didn’t argue, though, at least until they got to the parking lot and Galen didn’t even pretend he wasn’t putting Shane in the truck. “My Jeep?”

  “Dylan can take it to his place. That will keep anyone from vandalizing it.” He would text Dylan from home. He put Shane in the passenger seat, buckled him in, and shut the goddamn door, just daring Shane to say anything.

  Thankfully, Shane just leaned his head back and closed his eyes. God, he looked pooped.

  Galen drove, teeth clenched, body tight as hell. His brain went into overdrive, trying to think of what the hell to do to get Shane out of the hole he was in. He didn’t understand where Shane’s head was, what was driving the man.

  He’d asked, more than once. Shane didn’t seem to have an answer, so it was up to Galen to find one.

  He pulled into the driveway, and they sat there, both of them, just in the truck cab. Galen clenched his hands on the wheel, his muscles aching.

  “I’m sorry.” Shane sounded diminished somehow.

  “Oh, darlin’.” He turned to Shane, hand on the back of the seat behind Shane’s head. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t know what to do to help make it right again.”

  “I don’t either. I keep looking for the answer, but I can’t find it.”

  “There has to be a way.” He’d suggested selling a few of the bars, but Shane had balked at that.

  “Yeah.” Shane didn’t sound like he believed that, not for a second.

  “Come on, darlin’. Let’s go snuggle.” They were still super good at that. The touching.

  “Okay.” Shane slipped out of the truck and headed for the house, stopping just to love on the dogs.

  Galen followed, watching Shane, who looked a little like a ghost.

  “Wade’s back in town. He texted me.”

  Galen frowned. Wade had been a good friend of Shane’s. Had wanted to be more. Had tried real hard. “That’s nice.”

  Shane shrugged. “I guess, yeah. It’s been a while.”

  “It has.” Wade had sailed off on a yacht, and that had been that. Galen put an arm around Shane, bypassing the couch and heading straight for bed.

  “Do you remember, back in the beginning, when I was living in my Jeep?”

  “I do.” He pulled Shane down with him. “On the beach.”

  “I used to drive out here, park up on the ridge, and watch you.”

  “No shit?” He leaned back, staring into Shane’s eyes.

  “Yeah. No shit. I would sit on the hood of the old Jeep and watch you through the bedroom window. You pace a lot before you settle.”

  He chuckled. “I do. I reached for you a lot. In the night.”

  “Yeah. You did. I used to wish you could sleep good. You do now, right?”

  “I do, darlin’. I love my life.” He wanted Shane’s life to be happy too.

  “I don’t, not right now. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He rubbed their noses together.

  “Good.” Shane’s muscles twitched and jerked as the man relaxed. It was heartbreaking, how tense Shane was, how desperate his lover was to be coping-man.

  Galen wanted nothing more than to get his laughing, beach-loving man back. He needed it.

  He needed Shane.

  Now he just had to figure out what to do to get back to good.

  For now, all he could think was to hold on. Tight.

  SHANE PULLED up to the marina, Wade’s yacht right there, all shiny and sparkly. He could have just floated away on it. Wade had offered all those years ago. Fact was, though, he loved Galen.

  Completely.

  He couldn’t walk away from that.

  The rest he could leave in a heartbeat. Shane sighed, heading up the dock.

  “Hey!” Wade came up from belowdecks, looking good. Healthy.

  “Wade!” He had to smile. Wade was the closest thing to temptation ever and a great friend. “You’re home!”

  “I am. Home again, home again, jiggety jig.” Wade came and hugged him, pounding him on the back. “You look like hell.”

  “Fuck you, man.” He pinched Wade’s ass. “Show off your boat, make me jealous.”

  “Sure. Come on.” Wade rubbed shoulders with him, just chattering on about his trip around the globe.

  Shane listened with half an ear, grateful when they could sit down, rest, let his heart stop slamming in his chest.

  “You okay?” Wade asked, staring at him like he’d missed something.

  “I’m fine.” The words sounded like a lie.

  Wade knew it too. “Come on, buddy. What is it? Is it Galen?”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s me. I…. You know how when you’re on a merry-go-round and you’re spinning so fast? If you get off, you’re dizzy and jealous of the kids that are laughing, and if you stay on, you’re going to lose your fucking mind.”

  “Or at least your lunch.” Wade nodded, eyes hooded. “I get it. That just means you need to get off.”

  “Yeah? I don’t know how. I keep trying, man, and I can’t figure it out. I can’t figu
re shit out anymore.”

  “You’re stuck, huh?” Wade went to the little kitchen, got him a bottle of water.

  “I guess? I don’t even know how I got here, man.” He didn’t know shit.

  “Hey, I hear you. What does Galen say?” Wade always said Galen in a weird way. Not mean, but totally without inflection.

  “He hates the uppers, hates that I’m not home, hates that I can’t figure out how to do this right.” He’d never felt so totally fucking out of control. Ever. Making money was supposed to make things easier, right?

  “Is he being ugly?” Wade’s brows went up. “He promised me he was all about making you happy.”

  “No. No, he’s not. He’s right there and good to me. Hell, he just looks at me like he’s sad.”

  “Oh.” If Wade seemed a little disappointed, Shane would ignore it.

  “I’m sorry, man. You don’t want to hear all this shit. Tell me about your life.” This was just rubbing salt in a mostly healed wound.

  “It’s been good. I traveled a lot. Got a good, solid crew on the boat now if you ever want to take it out.”

  “Yeah? That sounds fun. Just to go away.” Him, Galen, and the dogs.

  “It’s good for the soul, man. No phones to speak of, no worries.”

  “Yeah.” No worries. He didn’t have that anymore. He had more than a boatload.

  “Well, you should think on it. Want some pretzels?” Wade had always been obsessed with pretzels.

  “Sure. I could munch.” He must make Wade nervous now.

  “Cool.” Wade bustled a little, getting Cokes and beer and pretzels and this super-stinky cheese.

  “Dude. That smells like feet!” He took the beer. He could switch to Coke later.

  “What, the beer?” Wade frowned, elaborately sniffing his bottle.

  “The cheese, dingus.” God, he’d missed Wade, honestly, and Shane told the man so. “You’re a good friend.”

  “I try. It was hard when I left that first time, Shane.” Wade gave him a smile, his eye lines deeper now. Not near as yummy as Len’s. “I think I’m in a good place now, though.”

  “I’m glad. I didn’t… I hope I didn’t lead you on back then, man. I didn’t want to.”

  “You didn’t.” Wade touched his leg, nothing sexual, just comforting. “I just had hopes, is all.”

  “If I didn’t have Len, but….” He did.

  “I know. I’m good.”

  “I’m glad. What’s the neatest place you went this time?” Enough deep shit. It was time to visit and drink.

  “Spain. Malaga is amazing.”

  “I’ve never been there.” He bet Galen had been there, though.

  “No? You ought to go.”

  “Maybe. One day.” They didn’t travel much anymore.

  “It’s got orange groves and an old Roman fort and shit.” Wade’s eyes lit up, that lean face animated.

  “Yeah? You got pictures?”

  “I do!” Wade tilted his head. “You sure you want to see?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Are you jacking off in all of them?”

  “What? No!” Laughing, Wade pulled out a tablet and brought up a raft of pictures.

  After beer three, he was sprawled on the deck, laughing his ass off at pictures of Wade and ten thousand Spanish men. Lord, Wade had worked his way through them. He looked so happy too.

  “Jesus Christ, buddy, that son of a bitch is eight times your size!”

  “I know, right? He wanted to lock me in the hold and beat me.” Shaking his head, Wade went to the next picture. “I sailed without him.”

  “I bet.” He snorted. “I mean, I don’t mind a little rough, but that man could lay down the smackdown.”

  “That’s what I thought, huh?”

  “Man, I better get back to work. I’ve done dick-all today.” He stood, the whole world spinning in a circle.

  “Whoa, man. Sit.” Grabbing him, Wade pulled him back down.

  “Sorry.” His heart was going ninety to nothing.

  “No problem, but I think—here, lie down on your left side.”

  “You gonna have me nap here?” His eyes were so heavy.

  “I am. No worries.” Wade patted his back, warm and reassuring.

  “Let Len know where I’m at?” He didn’t want Galen to worry.

  “Of course, Buster. I’ll holler at him.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” He closed his eyes, his heart just all pattery pittery in his chest. Sleep. Sleep a little. Then Galen.

  “NICE BAIT shop.”

  Galen looked up from cleaning the shelves, frowning when he saw his visitor. “I thought you were with Shane. Is something wrong?”

  Wade was the all-American boy, and he looked better than ever—white-blond, tanned, buff. “He’s at my yacht, sleeping.”

  Why did that sound ominous?

  “What happened? Do I need to go get him?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, are you two still an item?”

  “What?” He was going to punch the man. “You know we are.”

  “Well, if he was mine, he wouldn’t look strung out.” Wade stared him down. “He damn near passed out, just trying to stand up.”

  “Shit. I’ll go get him. Why didn’t you bring him home?”

  Wade looked at him. “I wanted to talk to you. He needed to rest. What the fuck is wrong with you, that you’d let him get so bad?”

  His immediate instinct was to scream. Maybe beat Wade down. Instead, he blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his stubbly face. “I’m afraid of taking this away from him.”

  “Huh? The man’s miserable.” Wade went to the cooler, grabbed a Coke, put two bucks on the counter.

  “But he’s worked so hard.” Galen knew Shane was unhappy. They were working on it, right?

  “Why?”

  “What does that mean?” Why did anyone try to be a success?

  “Why has he worked so hard? It’s Shane. Buster. The man isn’t—” Wade searched for a word. “—ambitious.”

  Galen blinked some more. Since when had he and Wade been able to chat about Shane in any sane way? “But he’s been doing this thing. I thought it was what he wanted.”

  “And it didn’t seem weird? That he became like this businessman? I mean, he didn’t even like managing the club, much less running five.” Wade stared right into his eyes, serious as a heart attack.

  Galen pressed his lips together a moment. “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All, then why did he do it?”

  “I’m not his lover, man. I just wanted to be. Why did he do it?”

  Galen got a Coke too. And sat. He needed to get Shane, but it was important to figure this out first. “I don’t know. He’s—shit, since his brother died he’s been working his ass off.”

  “I didn’t even know he had a brother, man.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, his brother passed away.” That had been a clusterfuck. The sister-in-law was nice, let Shane get to know the kids, help out. The bitch of a mother still didn’t talk to Shane, but…. But those kids did, and they thought Shane was a hero.

  Not just a bartender.

  “Oh God.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  Wade took a long swig. “Are you done now, or do you need a few more minutes for self-flagellation?”

  “Oh fuck, will you shut up? You think it’s easy to see this from the inside?”

  “No. No, man, I don’t. I just need you to see it now and fix it so that Shane is okay.” Wade actually looked worried.

  “Is it really that bad?” He meant Shane’s health. You lived together all day every day, you missed things.

  “He passed out from standing up. He’s lost a good thirty pounds since the storm, and we’re supposed to puff up and shit, not dissolve. Don’t y’all… you know… I mean, Christ, he’s like the neediest dude I ever saw.”

  “I—” What could he say? He and Shane were both addicts of a sort.

  “Look, I’m going to lay it out for you, best I can. He loves you, more than anything. More than
money, more than fucking anything. I’d give my fucking soul for someone to want me like that. He needs you, Frost, and you have to do your goddamn job, or I’m going to take him away and pray he’ll go for second-best.”

  “No one’s taking him away from me.” Galen stood, pacing. “What the hell am I gonna do with those bars?”

  “Let me have them for a while.” Just like that. There was no way it could be that easy.

  “You want to run things?”

  “Sure. I’ve watched Bar Rescue, and God knows I drink a lot. Y’all have a manager, don’t you?”

  “Dylan.” God, this couldn’t work, could it? “We’d have to go away awhile.”

  “He’s already on the yacht. I have a crew. You can bring the dogs, if you clean up after them.”

  “I’ll get one of those grass boxes.” He was going to do this. Kidnap Shane and sail around the world. “They still have their doggie passports from that trip to Aruba.”

  “Good deal. Go, Galen. Pack some shit and go. I’ll hang here, take care of the clubs for a month. Two.”

  “If you really mean it, I will. Dylan has access to all of the deposits, and I’ll leave you the passwords and the work laptop.”

  “I mean it. I love him, man. I know I can’t have him, I got that, but… I want him to have what he needs.”

  “Thank you.” For the first time, Galen allowed himself to like Wade without any reservations. And to feel a little sorry for him.

  “Just do your job. Bring him back.”

  “I will. Then I’ll actually bring him back here too. And your boat.”

  “That works. I’ll keep you up-to-date. Let’s get my information and introduce me to Dylan.”

  “You got it. I’ll get you keys too. You can stay here.” Now that he’d agreed, Galen couldn’t wait to get started.

  “Good deal. I let the old condo go when they stopped taking care of the landscaping. I got standards.” Wade stood. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Let me walk you through the house and show you how to turn everything on and off. The bait shop can stay closed unless Cooter Wilson wants to run it for you.” He had a million things to do.

  “I’ll figure it out. You pack and talk. I’ll make notes.”