by Mary Calmes
"You didn't even lock the door, idiot. What if I was trying to kill you?"
I just stared at him.
"Don't look at me like I'm crazy. I'm not crazy."
I only nodded, squinting at him.
He leaned in and kissed me hard and fast before standing up and looking down at me. "What time do you get off work tonight?"
"Why?"
"I'm gonna come and get you."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why you wanna get me?"
"I'm gonna feed you."
"What?"
"You heard me. Dinner's on me."
"Why?"
"'Cause I wanna make sure you're safe. Is that all right?"
"Yeah, that's all right."
"Okay then," he said, looking into my eyes. "Come walk me to the door and lock it behind me."
I trailed after him, wrapped in a sheet. At the door he reached out, put a hand around the back of my neck, and leaned in to kiss me, parting my lips with his tongue. The kiss was very hot and left me breathless.
"What time?"
"What?" I had no idea what we were even talking about.
His smile was wicked and smug at the same time. "What time is work over?"
"Six."
"Good. I'll be there. Wait for me."
I nodded.
"And lock the goddamn door," he growled, walking out of it. "I don't want anybody in here with you."
After he left I stood there for a long time trying to figure out how I felt before I gave up and went to take a shower.
After much deliberation I decided that the one thing I knew for sure was that I was really looking forward to seeing him.
And that was a miracle in itself, since I couldn't remember the last time I cared at all.
* * * *
At eight that night, as I emerged from the elevator on the ground floor, I got a call.
"Jory."
"Yeah."
"Hey, it's Sam. I'm real sorry I didn't show up, but I got kind of roped into something."
"Sure."
"You didn't wait around, did you?"
"Nope. Six-fifteen, I was out of there."
"Oh. So you waited a whole fifteen minutes, huh?" He sounded irritable.
"Yep."
"Okay."
"Okay."
I hung up and stopped walking for a minute. When had I become one of these loser guys that equated great sex with anything more than a one-night stand? I knew better. When my phone rang again, I answered it as I crossed the street.
"Jory."
"I'm just leaving work now," I confessed because it didn't really matter if he thought I was a loser or not. We were done anyway. "I waited for you all this time. Just so ya know."
"Oh," Sam cleared his throat. "I'm glad."
"You're glad?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, whatever," I grunted. "Bye." I made sure I put it on vibrate before I walked toward the curb to get a cab home.
"Excuse me."
When I turned to the guy standing beside me, I realized he was studying my face. "Yeah?"
"Are you Jory Keyes?"
I yawned. "Yeah."
Big smile suddenly. "I'm Caleb Reid."
I groaned and turned to go.
"No—no, wait," he chuckled, grabbing my shoulder, holding on so I couldn't leave. "C'mon, I swear—even though your boss thinks I'm crazy, I'm not."
I squinted at him.
"Lemme feed you." His arm went over my shoulder, pulling me close.
I continued to stare.
"I just want to talk to you so maybe—just maybe—you can talk to him."
Heavy sigh as I agreed. I was just too curious to know what my boss was hiding to turn him down. And besides, I had nothing else to do.
* * * *
Caleb Reid looked like a farm boy even though he had grown up in the big city of Dallas, in the even bigger state of Texas. Between the warm trace of an accent and his big blue eyes, I was intrigued.
"You're wondering what in the world this has to do with your boss."
"Pretty much," I nodded, shoveling the French toast into my mouth.
"Well, see, it turns out that his folks are my folks."
I paused in mid-bite to stare at him. "I'm sorry?"
Quick sigh. "My mother is his mother. My father is his father."
"How is that even possible?"
"My mom, she got pregnant in high school and put him up for adoption. She never thought for a second that she'd end up meeting her high school sweetheart again years later and falling in love with him all over again."
"Wait. What?"
"Yeah." He laughed. "I mean, here are these two kids that both run like hell from their hometown and end up meeting a world away."
"You're going way too fast," I told him. "Pretend I'm drunk."
He laughed at me. "You're really funny."
I gave him a fake laugh. "Just back up."
So he explained it slowly for the impaired. Suzie Pomeroy and Danny Reid had been high school sweethearts. Halfway through their senior year she had gotten pregnant. She never told Daniel, she just disappeared. Her mother, Lynn Pomeroy, who did not believe in abortion, sent Suzie to live with her sister in Atlanta for the duration of the pregnancy. When the baby was born, he was put up for adoption. Suzie finished high school there and went on to college. Daniel went to college on a football scholarship. Both of them wanted to save the world, and so both joined the Peace Corps. They met again in Somalia, digging ditches, doing relief work. Their chemistry was rekindled almost instantly, and they reunited as though they'd never parted.
I nodded after several minutes. "It's a good story."
"I know—it's totally a Lifetime original movie."
I smiled at him. He was funny too. "How does it end?"
"They moved back to their hometown to open a solar paneling company."
"Okay."
"They also put up windmills, and we raise our own food and... what?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
"You look like you're ready to throw up."
"No."
He smiled at me. "So anyway... my mom." He took a deep breath. "Like, six months ago, she all of a sudden calls a family meeting and just brings out all these papers and lays the news on my dad and the rest of us that she gave up her son for adoption."
I stared at him.
"And my dad felt sorry for her until she told him the baby was his."
"Oh." I exhaled.
"Yeah. He took it really hard. And if you knew him, you'd get it. I mean his family... nothing's as important as us, ya know? He just... it almost killed him to think that his son was out in the world without him. He was just sick thinking that maybe Dane had been hurt and there was no one there to protect him."
I nodded. "Well, they gotta know that wasn't the case. His parents... they adored him."
"Sure."
"He turned out all right. Everything turned out all right."
"Yeah, they know. Turns out my mom knew everything about Dane. It was an open adoption because that was the only way she would consent."
"So she should be okay."
"Yeah, but she's not and either is the old man. They gotta see him."
"So they should just come and see him."
"I know they should, but, Jory, but he won't even see me, let alone them."
"And you told him all this that you told me?"
"Yes."
"And what'd he say?"
"He thanked me for coming and told me that he wished me and my family well."
Ouch. "That sounds like him." I forced a smile. "He's just not a real sentimental guy."
"Yeah, but even if he's pissed at my mom... my dad didn't even know about him. He should want to at least see my dad."
"Again... you don't know Dane. He's just not real...." I searched for the best word, thinking. "Warm. He's private and he doesn't trust very many people and to him this would be something that's done a
nd over."
"That's not normal. Most people would want to meet them and talk."
"He's not most people."
"But that creates a problem for me."
I nodded. "'Cause your folks really wanna see him, huh?"
"Exactly. I mean they're eventually going to get sick of me stalling them and then they'll just hop on a plane and come confront him."
"That'd be bad."
"I know. If my reception is any indication of theirs... it would be very bad."
I sighed heavily. "So what's your plan?"
He leaned forward on the table. "You're my plan."
"I'm sorry?"
"Jory, I have spent the last two weeks watching Dane Harcourt, and I can say with certainty that, beyond a small circle of close friends, you are the only other person he allows access to his life."
"His girlfriend is—"
"I see him dating a lot of women but I did not see a girlfriend."
I shrugged.
"And like I said... he's got a super-tight circle, but trying to talk to the bank manager or the lawyer or the CEO... I mean, forget it. No one but you is gonna give me the time of day."
I stared into his pale blue eyes.
"But you... I see the way he looks at you and he cares about what you think."
"You're confused. He does exactly as he wants."
"I followed you guys down to the Miracle Mile last week."
"So?"
"All he did was follow you around."
"That's 'cause shopping's my deal, not his."
He gave me a look.
"What?"
"If you could see how he is with you... really see... I think you'd be surprised. It seems like he sort of relaxes when he's yelling at you."
I gave him the grunt of agreement. "Well, that I believe."
"It seems to me he's just himself."
But I knew what he was talking about. People mistook my ability to finish my boss's sentences as something more than it was. The fact that I picked up his dry cleaning, bought his vitamins, scheduled his medical checkups, knew exactly what to order him at any restaurant, and bought gifts for him to give that all he did was sign the card, was not indicative of a deeper relationship. I was his guy Friday. I was like a butler that didn't live in. Caleb was trying to make more of it than it really was.
"Jory, please—"
"Lookit," I began, leaning back in the booth. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, all right?"
Deep sigh as he smiled at me. "That'd be great."
"Listen, don't get all excited. He's not gonna care what—"
"He will," he nodded. "You'll see."
But I wasn't convinced.
After dinner, I was walking toward the curb to call a cab when Caleb called out to me.
"So you'll call me tomorrow?"
I smiled at him. "If I haven't been murdered, I will, but don't—"
"Jory!"
He was running toward me and I turned around to see what was there. I saw a man and I saw his fist and when he hit me it felt like my right eye exploded. I saw the other guy behind him and I saw the gun. I scrambled to my feet but I fell back down when everything swung left. Arm around my neck as I was pulled backwards. Caleb was standing with his hands up, asking the guy to please not hurt me. I saw spots and everything got really dim even as I realized I was being pulled into a car. Instantly I remembered everything my friend Tiffany had ever said in her self-defense classes. Never let anyone put you in a car. If you end up in a car, get out as quick as you can. So I fought—I bit and kicked and the hands all over me just couldn't quite find their grip.
"For crissakes, just fuckin' shoot him!"
"In the car? Shoot him in the car?"
"He's what, eighty pounds? Break his neck!"
"I'm trying, I just can't get—"
"Pull over." Another voice. "I'll get back there with him."
"Pull over where? We're in the middle of the goddamn expressway!"
"Fuck, he's bleeding all over me!"
I squirmed free and caught his head with my knee as the car pulled over. The door opened and I saw the gun. I kicked out as hard as I could and he moved just a little. And for the first time in my life I was glad to be small. Detective Kage's shoulders would have never cleared the space between the man and the car door. I threw myself out and hit the gravel hard. I heard the first gunshot and got my legs under me. It felt like I was running like I did in my dreams, like treading through caramel. I seemed like it took forever to get moving.
The second gunshot and my arm went numb before I was back down in the gravel. When I heard the car, I got back up and ran. It was either run down the side of the road or take a left and cut across the expressway. The chances of dying were about the same, and at least if I got hit by a car I wouldn't suffer. Being killed was one thing... I would pass on the whole torture scene. So I veered into oncoming traffic and ran, darting toward the median as it started to rain.
When my hands touched the cold concrete I turned to look over my shoulder. These were not thugs from a movie, they were not mindless flunkies, and so it was not surprising that they didn't come after me. They didn't shoot at me either; the three of them just whipped out their cell phones at the same time. I wasn't about to wait for the cars to thin out and have them come after me. I hopped the center divider and started running down the other side. As soon as I saw a break in the traffic I dashed across the expressway and fell down on the other side. I couldn't catch my breath so I decided to sit down for a minute. It ended up more of a fall. And it was weird, but the gravel had hurt before. This time the ground just felt solid and that was good, since I felt like I was lying in the middle of a roulette wheel. That was my last thought as the spinning got too fast and everything went black.
Chapter Eight
I started and jerked awake.
"Whoa-whoa-whoa," the voice said gently, hand on my chest. "Just settle down, you're all right. We've got you. Open your eyes—look at me."
I thought my eyes were open.
"Can you hear me, buddy?"
I let out a deep breath, and his voice was miles away before there was no sound at all.
* * * *
Bright light. I blinked so I could see something. Hospital. I was in the hospital and the IV bag, the bed, the beeping machines, and the white coats were a dead giveaway in case I missed the nurses.
"Crap," I groaned.
"Jory, can you hear me?" someone asked me.
"Yeah," I groaned, trying to sit up. "Shit."
"No-no-no," one of the doctors said gently, hand on my shoulder as she looked at me. "Just stay down until we get you all checked out here, all right?"
Heavy sigh. "Okay."
"Anyone I should call, Jory?"
I was having trouble focusing.
"He's got a business card for Dane Harcourt in here,"
another voice said.
"There's one for a Detective Kage as well."
"Wait," I gasped out. "Please don't call anybody. Please."
"Jory, can you—"
But I didn't hear the rest because the room did a sharp tilt to the left and I slid into darkness.
* * * *
I was freezing, and when I opened my eyes there was a curtain pulled around the bed, so even though I could hear a lot of noise, no one could see me. I was hooked up to an IV
bag, but I had seen enough movies to know that the needle came out just the same way it went in. It hurt more than I thought, but I pressed down and it only bled for a second. It took a few tries to sit up without being too dizzy and then to stand, but I was tenacious because I wanted out. At first the nausea was like a wave that sucked all the air out of my body, but it all calmed down, receded, and I was able to stand and breathe and then walk. I hated hospitals... all the smells, the freezing temperature, as well as the color of the walls and the fluorescent lighting... it was all just vile. I needed to get out fast.
It's easy to get out of a crowded, busy emergency room
. I slipped out with everyone else coming in and out. I had my cell, my wallet, and my keys, so I was set. And as I started home I thought how the next time someone said my jeans were too tight I was going to bring up my night. The point was that if you were wrestling for your life in the back of a Lincoln town car it sure came in handy to have jeans that fit like a second skin. That way you made sure you didn't drop anything.
My phone startled me when it rang. I was still a little on edge. "Hello?"
"Where the fuck are you?"
"Who is this?" I asked even though I knew exactly who it was.
"You know damn well who the fuck this is!"
"Oh," I sighed. "Sam. Whaddya want?"
"What do I want? I want to know where the fuck you are!"
"I'm going home. I hate hospitals."
"Hospitals?"
"Yeah."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"I was in the hospital."
"When?"
"I dunno, like five minutes ago." I said as I took a left in front of the hospital and started down the street.
"What? How long were you there?"
"I have no idea. I was passed out."
"Passed out?"
"Yeah."
"Jory, what the hell happened?" he yelled at me.
"I dunno, I think one of those guys maybe hit me harder than I thought."
"Hit you?" His voice got even louder.
My head couldn't take the yelling. I hung up and stopped walking so I could figure out where I was. When I saw the stairs that led up to the track for the subway, I started up. I answered my phone on the fifth ring.
"What?" I whined. My head hurt.
"Where are you?" Very controlled voice, but I could hear him talking through clenched teeth.
"On my way home."
"What hospital were you at?"
"I have no idea. Leave me alone, okay," I muttered as I hung up on him.
As I sat on the subway I had a vision of him sitting outside of my place in his monster car, waiting there so he could yell at me. That idea kept me in my seat five stops beyond where I was supposed to get off. As I sat on the steps trying not to freeze, I realized that my exodus from the hospital had been poorly planned. I wasn't sure who to call since it was three in the morning. When my phone rang I answered because it was a distraction I needed.
