by L. J. Hamlin
"I'm so glad. Now, why don't you show me around. We'll have a glass of champagne," Prisha suggests.
"Sounds like a plan. I'll let Cade focus on work for a bit—not that I think he'll have trouble selling his paintings. He's amazing," Arkady says proudly, making eye contact with Cade and miming getting a drink with Prisha. Cade nods and smiles.
They go to the bar that has been set up and are waiting, chatting about their days, when something catches Arkady's eye. Going out the fire exit, which has been propped open for people to go smoke, is a man in a suit. Arkady doesn't see his face, but he does see the red scarf around his neck.
"I, just, one second." Arkady moves as quickly as he can, heading to the door and following the man out.
Arkady spots the back of the man, and that bright red, at the end of the alleyway. He's being stupid, but he keeps walking. It's just a red scarf. Dozens of people probably wear them. It doesn't mean it was the man that broke into his apartment.
But the man's just standing there, like he's waiting for something. Arkady tells himself the man could be waiting for a car, a taxi, anything, but Arkady can' t bring himself to stop. He reaches the man and isn't sure what he's going to do. He hears something behind him and turns for a second. That's when he's hit over the head and knocked to the ground.
"Get away from him! Arkady!" He hears Prisha's voice and her high-heeled steps running toward him, and a man quickly running the other way. He lifts himself up a little, feeling dizzy but determined to get a look at the man who hit him.
The red scarf streams behind him as he climbs onto a motor bike, driving off without putting on a helmet. Arkady can just see his face and gasps in recognition.
"Arkady?" Prisha sounds panicked as she reaches him and helps him to his feet.
"My stick?" Arkady asks.
"Here." Prisha hands it to him, and Arkady straightens up, his head throbbing.
"Come on, let's get you inside, get your head looked at and call the cops," Prisha says firmly, but there's a slight shake in her voice. Arkady gets what she must have seen: a man knock him to the ground and stand over him, about to do God knows what.
"Did you see what he hit me with?" Arkady asks as Prisha puts an arm around him and they start walking.
"I saw metal on his knuckles, like brass knuckles. You never should have run after him, Arkady," Prisha says as they reach the door and some concerned looking people smoking, and just for a moment, Arkady misses smoking, wishes he could have one to calm his nerves.
Cade sees them coming in and rushes over with his mother.
"What happened? Did you fall?" Cade asks, instantly in Arkady's space, good hand checking for injuries, fingers pressing over the lump already forming on Arkady's forehead.
"He was attacked again. The man drove away, but I saw him. We need to call the police," Prisha says firmly.
"I'll talk to security, get the police here and make sure the man doesn't come back in," Abby says, concerned but in charge.
"Let's get Arkady some ice," Prisha says, and Arkady lets them guide him over to the bar and sit him in a chair. Soon Prisha is holding ice wrapped in a cloth to the bump on his forehead and checking his pupils.
"What on earth happened? Why were you outside?" Cade asks.
"I saw a man in a red scarf, and I just, I wanted to see who he was. I went after him, and he hit me. If Prisha hadn't followed us, I'm not sure what he'd have done next," Arkady replies, wincing a little at the pain in his forehead.
"Did you see him?" Cade asks.
"Yes, and I recognized him." Arkady still isn't sure he's right, but things are sliding into place.
"Who was it?" Prisha asks.
"A man named James Lee. He was—I assume still is—a dancer. We were rivals of sorts. He always took it more seriously than me. Maybe because I was arrogant, I didn't see him as composition. I always beat him for parts in auditions. I was always the lead. " Arkady can remember James: tall, strong, a good dancer, but not good enough. Not as good as Arkady.
"Why would he break into your apartment and try to kill you? The man who attacked you said it was because you knew something he was worried you'd remember." Cade frowns, holding Arkady's hand tightly.
"Maybe the secret he's keeping is he tried to get rid of the competition. That freak accident—maybe it wasn't an accident," Arkady replies.
"Tell the police everything, about the accident, who you saw, everything," Prisha says.
Arkady's trying to process that his accident may not have been one at all. He'd survived, but it'd stolen dance from him. Could James have wanted to beat him that much? Enough to try and kill him?
James always seemed cold blooded. He reminded Arkady of a snake, and when they tried out for the same parts, Arkady had heard James being told he lacked fire and passion, something Arkady had been told his dancing was full of.
The police arrive and ask for somewhere private to talk, and Cade leads the way to his office. By that time Arkady's already seen people taking pictures of them, not asking this time. Arkady hopes this doesn't cause a scandal for Cade, but Cade seems focused on him. The two detectives seem to be taking his attack seriously, probably because they know about the attack in his apartment, and this time he has a witness.
"Was there much of an investigation into the accident you say put you in the hospital at the beginning of the year?" one detective, a dark skinned African American woman a little older than him, asks.
"Not really. By the time I woke up in the hospital, everyone had already decided it was an accident. The equipment company didn't want a scandal, the dance company's neglect, they just gave me a settlement," Arkady replies.
"But you can't remember what happened?" The other detective, a small Filipino woman, asks, looking at her notebook.
"Nothing at all. I hit my head when I fell. The doctors said there was no serious or long-lasting damage, but that there had been swelling and bruising, that along with the trauma of an accident, they said they weren't surprised I couldn't remember anything. Cade suggested talking to my therapist about recovering the memory, and I asked her about it. She thinks it's possible," Arkady explains. He can still remember the confusion he'd felt waking up in the hospital. He'd been in so much pain and hadn't yet known why.
"Well, if anything does come back to you, please do contact us. At the moment, you and Miss Bhattacharya both saw the man who attacked you today. If you both ID him as James Lee, we should successfully be able to charge him with assault, but without more evidence, or a confession, it'll be difficult to prove he's come after you before. And if he did intend to murder you, we would prefer to be able to arrest him for attempted murder." The first officer, who called herself Ana, looks very serious, and it's such a relief to be taken seriously. He's heard dozens of horror stories of police not believing victims, especially queer and immigrant victims.
"So, will you arrest him?" Cade asks, looking worried.
"First we'll bring him in for questioning and have you both identify him. Can you come to the station tomorrow?" Ana asks.
"Yes, of course. I got a clear look at him, and I'm good with faces." Prisha nods.
"I can come whenever you need. Are you hoping he'll confess to wanting me dead?" Arkady can still hardly believe it, but then, his mother had always said jealousy was an ugly, dark emotion, that twisted people up inside.
"We'll put pressure on him, find out if he has alibis for when you were hurt, do some poking around, see if he has a history of violence, or if he's spoken about you to anyone or on social media," the other detective explains.
"We'll leave you to your event, but if you spot Mr. Lee at all, please do not confront him. Call the police right away. If you feel like you're in danger at any time, don't hesitate. I know men. I have brothers. They think they can deal with everything themselves, but it's okay to ask for help, especially in situations like this," Ana says, standing up.
The detectives leave, and Cade talks to a few people before coming back over to Arkad
y and Prisha. "They can cope without me. Would you like me to take you home?" Cade asks.
"I don't really want to explain this to my parents till morning, so maybe we could go somewhere else? I'm not really in a party mood," Arkady admits. He feels bad that Cade's going to leave his own showing, but he's happy Cade wants to be with him, even with all this danger.
"Well, I'm going to stay a little longer, and then go home. Keep in touch, guys," Prisha says firmly.
"We will, and you, too. Give me a text when you get home." Arkady would die if his trouble spilled over onto Cade or Prisha.
Prisha gives them both a hug and kisses their cheeks before heading back to the bar. Cade moves closer, checking on the lump on Arkady's forehead with careful fingers. It makes Arkady wince slightly, but it's not too painful.
"Are you sure I can't take you home?" Cade asks.
"Is that an offer?" Arkady raises an eyebrow.
"That's not what I meant, but we can go to my place for coffee if you like?" Cade offers.
"I'd like that." Arkady nods.
Cade says goodbye to his mother, and Arkady hates that Abby is worried. He wonders if he's made a bad impression, if she thinks he's a bad person because someone attacked him. She might think he's trouble, and not good enough for her son. But Arkady pushes that from his mind. His therapist had talked to him about staying in the present, not dwelling on the past, or worrying about the future, and he wants to apply it here and now with Cade. Things are good. He's going to enjoy them while they stay that way. He's seen how quickly his life can change.
They get a taxi to Cade's place, which isn't far from the gallery, but they agree it's safer right now to not be walking the streets at night. Cade lives in a large loft apartment, and when Arkady is let in to look around, he sees the place is largely open plan. There's a lot of art on the walls, and canvases everywhere, some propped against walls, others on easels, all in different stages of completion.
There's paint, jars of brushes soaking in liquid, and a fair bit of artistic clutter. At the end of the room, Arkady can see a well-made bed with a dresser on either side, but they don't go towards the bed. They go to the kitchen area, which has a breakfast bar, and Cade pulls out one of the stools for Arkady.
Arkady leans his stick against the counter where he can reach it and carefully gets on the stool. It's a little tricky with the weakness in his leg, but he has a lot of strength in his arms and his other leg, so he manages to get up without looking too awkward, which he's glad about. He's still getting used to not always being as graceful as he used to be. His leg often makes him feel clumsy, and he hates that, but he's glad for a chance to sit down. His knee's aching, and his head's throbbing a little.
"Want a coffee?" Cade asks.
"Got anything stronger? I could use a drink," Arkady admits. He doesn't want to get drunk and miss out on being in his right mind around Cade, but he could use one stiff drink to steady his nerves. He's willing to admit tonight has shaken him. Anything could have happened. He was alone with a man who wants him dead. If not for Prisha, he probably would be.
" I have a bottle of whiskey. I'm no doctor, and it's your choice, but are you sure you want to drink after hitting your head? " Cade reaches out, brushing his fingers over the lump Arkady has from getting struck. His fingers have no trace of paint or charcoal on them for once. He must have cleaned them carefully for the show at the gallery.
"I don't feel concussed, and I'll only have one. I don't plan on getting drunk tonight."
"Okay. I don't want to be bossy or controlling. I just worry about you. It's hard not to with everything going on," Cade says. He gets a half-full bottle of whiskey and two glasses from a cupboard and carefully pours the liquid, as he can't hold both the glass and the bottle steady at the same time.
"You're not any of those things. I wanted to say: I get if you want to bail out of this relationship. You didn't sign up for this drama. When we met, I was a guy who'd been in a bad accident. Now I have a crazy person trying to kill me. I get not wanting to be part of that." Arkady tries to act like the thought of Cade leaving him doesn't bother him, even though it would hurt his heart to be dumped by Cade.
"For a smart guy, you can be pretty stupid," Cade says, handing Arkady one of the glasses.
"What do you mean?" Arkady asks, taking a sip. It's good whiskey: a little rough, a little smooth, and it warms his chest.
"I'm not going to lie and say that it doesn't scare me that there's someone trying to kill you, but I don't run away from things that scare me. Art scared me. It's harder with one hand. But I did it, and I make beautiful art that people actually want to buy. It paid off, not running, and I think it'll be the same if I don't walk out on you," Cade says firmly.
Arkady puts down his glass and reaches out for Cade. Putting a hand on the back of Cade's neck, he pulls him in. When their lips meet, their kiss is whiskey flavored. Arkady keeps it sweet, wanting to show Cade that he feels the same way. He's afraid of getting Cade hurt, afraid of the strength of his feelings, but he's not going to leave Cade, not when things are so good and only seem to be getting better.
"No more talk about me leaving, okay? Not unless you really want me to because I'm not what you want or something," Cade says, breaking the kiss.
"My therapist says it's in my nature to push people away. I'm going to try really hard not to do that to you. I really like you, and spending time with you." Arkady wraps his arms around Cade's waist.
"I like you, and spending time with you, too. I was, ah, wondering, if you wanted to stay the night? Nothing has to happen. We can just hang out, if you want," Cade says, looking hesitant.
"I'd like to stay. I sound like a kid, but let me text my parents that I'll be staying out. I don't want to worry them," Arkady says, letting go of Cade so he can get his phone out of his jacket pocket. He sends a quick message before putting his cell down on the counter next to his glass.
"You tell them you're staying with me?" Cade asks.
"Yes. I'm not worried what they'll think. They know I'm an adult and no virgin. They won't worry that you're going to take advantage of me." Arkady grins, putting a hand in the waistband of Cade's suit pants and pulling him close, opening his legs so that Cade is as close as he can get sitting like this.
"Do you want me to take advantage?" Cade jokes, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, and I want to take advantage right back," Arkady says, and he pushes Cade's suit jacket off his shoulders, being careful of his arm, knowing Cade sometimes has pain in it. He wants to be assertive, to go after what he wants, but he doesn't want to hurt Cade in the process.
Cade grins before kissing him, and they make out like that: Arkady up higher on the chair, and Cade standing between his legs. Arkady lets his hands wander, creeping under Cade's shirt. He strokes Cade's sides, then over his stomach, and Cade breaks the kiss.
"My body's not like yours: not a lot of muscles, a little soft around the middle, but I'm an artist. I sit inside all day working. Your body is so beautiful." Cade sounds a little insecure, and Arkady doesn't like that. He doesn't need Cade to have abs to want him.
Arkady pushes Cade's shirt up so his stomach and chest are on show. Then Arkady leans in and presses a trail of kisses over Cade's flesh. His skin is soft and warm. He's a healthy weight, not stick thin. It doesn't matter that he doesn't spend all his time in the gym, not to Arkady. "I like your body just fine the way it is, and I want to see more of it." Arkady presses another kiss to Cade's skin, this one just beside his nipple.
"Want to move to the couch? We can stretch out without hurting your leg."
"I like the way you think," Arkady replies, and Cade moves back so Arkady can get carefully to his feet and grab his stick before he starts walking over to Cade's large leather couch. It has more than enough room for them both to lie down.
Arkady puts his stick down, then sits down first, so he can take his shoes off, and Cade does the same. Arkady can't help smiling as they sit side by side, and his stomach f
lutters when Cade smiles back. Arkady takes his suit jacket off and then his tie. He tugs on Cade's tie, pulling him close for a kiss before undoing Cade's tie for him, and then the buttons of his shirt, wanting to be the one to undress Cade.
Cade shows how good he is with his one hand when he starts undoing the buttons on Arkady's shirt with nimble fingers. Once they have their shirts off, Cade reaches for Arkady's belt, and Arkady starts to get nervous. He hasn't shown Cade his scars yet. But he lets Cade push him flat on the couch and finish undoing his belt and buttons, and then he lifts up so that his suit pants can be pulled off. He closes his eyes, not wanting to see Cade's reaction to the ugly raised scars on his knee.
He feels warm breath on his knee and knows Cade is close to him, looking over the healed surgery scars. And just when he's getting nervous that Cade has been put off by the marks on his skin, he feels Cade's lips ghosting over the sensitive raised lines. He shivers because the gentle touch feels strange, but it doesn't feel bad to have someone other than himself and Prisha touch his scars.
"You can open your eyes. I've seen your battle marks now," Cade says softly.
Arkady forces himself to look at Cade, and Cade doesn't look disgusted or like he's changed his mind about sleeping with Arkady.
"I wasn't in a battle." Arkady frowns.
"Life is a battle. You fought to survive, to get well again, to keep going. Sometimes doing those things leaves scars, and I don't care about yours in the slightest," Cade tells him firmly.
"Take your pants off," Arkady says, nudging Cade with his foot.
"Are you saying you agree with me?" Cade asks, not making a move to get undressed.
"Fine, I agree. Now get naked. I want to see you," Arkady says, wiggling out of his underwear and watching as Cade's eyes turn hungry.
Cade strips off slowly, and then lies down beside Arkady, running a hand over Arkady's chest, the leather of the sofa warming under his skin. It's simple, but it feels nice.
"So, we haven't had the preferences talk," Arkady says, biting his lip because he really hopes he and Cade aren't incompatible. He's pretty flexible with what he likes, so he hopes it's not an issue.
