He knew of a few great hiding spots along the Mississippi River levee, and this wasn’t one of them. He was too exposed. There was the hidey-hole that he’d been sleeping in when he saw Andi climb into the water. Maybe someone had covered it in the six months he’d been in Austin, but he doubted it. Also, a little closer in, there was an old abandoned wharf with crawlspace under it. The river level was low enough that the rocky area would be dry. There were also a few spots in Crescent Park, which was about a mile away. But he didn’t have the energy to make it to any of those hiding places.
I can’t sleep here.
It wasn’t a good place to be still. A pair of red eyes approached him, crawling through the winter-short grass. Another pair followed close behind. Pic reached for the pile of rocks he’d collected, and threw one. Using his left hand, because his brass knuckles were on his right, his aim might’ve been slightly off. It was too dark for him to tell whether he’d made contact. If the rat made a noise, Pic didn’t hear it. But the two pairs of red eyes were no longer coming at him, and that was all he gave a damn about. He eyed his pile of rocks. Should’ve picked up more than ten.
I’ll shut my eyes for a minute. Only a minute.
He pulled his switchblade out of his front jeans pocket, closed his left fist around it, and leaned back. Eyes closed, he gave in to the pain and shivering. Gave up being on high alert for rats. His backpack became a rock hard pillow. Turning on his side, he curled into a tight ball by pulling his knees into his chest. The position gave him the illusion of being warmer.
He thought about Monica. She hadn’t showed up to play with Tank and Honey, so it was a damn good thing he’d been there, ‘cause they made more money when they had a guitar player. Monica hadn’t been at either of the two shelters he’d tried to get into. No one knew where she was, but she had a doctor’s appointment at the LSU free clinic on Monday at two. According to Honey, Monica wasn’t going to miss the appointment, because the clinic gave her meds and vitamins for the baby.
I’ll go to the clinic then and talk to her there. Hope she’s okay now. Warm.
After a while, he dreamed. His fingers slid along guitar strings. His mom’s voice sounded beautiful, as they sang one of her favorite songs. “Iris,” by the Goo Goo Dolls. In his dream, he played it so well even his idol, John Rzeznik, the lead guitarist, would’ve been proud. As a matter of fact, John Rzeznik was there, singing with Pic and Aubrey Rose, nodding his approval.
Something nudged at his back, bringing suck-ass reality home with one dull thump. Opening his eyes, he froze. He was disoriented. Didn’t even know if the thump had been real. Decided it wasn’t, ‘cause that was easier, considering the dream had put him on the couch, in the living room of their doublewide, and he’d been baking an out-of-the-box cake for his mom’s birthday. The whole place had smelled like chocolate. Learning the song on his second-hand guitar had been her birthday present. The dream had been more of a memory than a figment of his imagination, because that had all really happened. Well, all of it, except for John Rzeznik being there. That night, the song, and the chocolate cake—those were some of his last good memories before Clarence entered their lives and decided twelve-year-old Pic was the best thing to fuck in West Virginia.
Okay, so I feel like shit. I’ll take it all—every single bit of my sorry-ass existence—over Clarence. Or anyone like him.
The amplifier in his backpack was the hardest pillow imaginable. He’d laid his guitar case in front of his face. Still there. A ship, with bright lights that made it look like a floating building in the dark night, coasted downriver.
Thump.
His back felt blunt pressure as something bounced off him.
What the fuck!!!
He could jump to his feet from a lying down position in two seconds flat. He’d practiced the defensive move a million times, rising out of a deep sleep and coming up, ready for a fight. But his cold had him hamstringed, and he was slow. He tried to sit up, to turn to face whatever or whoever was messing with him, and stand. Three simple actions he should’ve been able to do, in rapid-fire succession.
He managed to sit up and turn, but he was slow, because it made him want to puke. As he got to his feet, he dropped the knife that he’d been holding, even in his sleep. He stumbled, moved sideways on the sloping ground, and had to pause for his cold-clogged brain waves to catch up to his spinning head. Heart pounding, the whump-a-whump-a-whump sound of blood rushing in his head picked up its pace.
A large man stood ten feet away, his hands up in the air, a universal sign of peace.
I’m not falling for it.
Darkness concealed the guy’s features, but his shadow said huge. Tall. Broad shoulders. Wearing black, but there was enough light for Pic to know that the guy’s face wasn’t covered.
Pic thought about diving for his knife. One quick glance at the ground told him he didn’t know where it had landed in the long grass. “Come any closer and I’ll kill you.”
“It’s Gabe, Pic. I met you this afternoon. With Andi.”
“I don’t care who you are. One step closer, and you’re dead. I mean it.” Despite his words, a small measure of relief registered, then it was immediately erased with suspicion. “Is the fact that I met you supposed to make me feel better? What, you came out here in the middle of the night, looking for me? You a homo looking to get laid?”
“Yes. Yes. No.” Gabe lowered his hands to his sides.
“Huh?”
“Answers to your questions. First two were pretty obvious, but I guess the most important one is the last one, though I certainly don’t know what gave you the impression I’m gay. Not that you can tell by looking at someone.”
“Dude! What is with you? Shut the hell up! Turn around,” Pic coughed, “and leave.”
The asshole had the nerve to chuckle loud enough that Pic could hear it past the pounding in his head.
“But you haven’t let me answer your question. Really answer it. In a way you can understand. I came here to help you.”
“Yeah. Right. I’m goddamn used to men like you. Bet you thought I’d be happy to blow you for twenty bucks. Thought you’d be able to fuck me for a fifty. I’ve been offered more help than you can imagine. Help always comes with a steep price. I’m not willing to pay it, so I’ll give you the answer I’ve given to every goddamn queer who comes my way. You ready for it?”
“Actually, you can stop your rant—”
“The only way I’ll ever look at your sorry ass cock is when I slice it off and shove it down your goddamn throat. It’ll be the most memorable blowjob of your life, ‘cause you’ll be giving it to yourself. Now turn around and get outta here.”
“Now that you’ve gotten that off your puny chest, I can assure you that you’ll never lay eyes on my penis. Stop the lame-ass bullshit and goddamn listen to me.” Gabe paused, and before Pic could say anything, the guy continued. “Aw, hell, Ragno, I am being nice. Are you listening to this punk? He threatened to slice my cock off, which is an indication of how thankful he is that I came out here to help him. I should’ve just knocked his ass out and carried him there. Your idea about self-determination was misguided. He’s irrational.”
Pic glanced around. He only saw one man. He’d known the agents who Andi had hired were always mic’d. The devices were tiny, but he’d seen them in their ears. What he hadn’t known was that the mics were so sensitive, they’d pick up his end of a conversation when he was standing ten feet away from the guy. Yet another great reason to stay far away.
“Who the hell you talking to? An imaginary friend? A fucking fairy friend for a fairy who’s scared of the dark?”
Gabe laughed. “Yeah, kid. I’m shaking here, I’m so afraid. You should be so lucky to have a friend like Ragno. Look, I know you feel like crap.”
“So why are you here? Never mind. Don’t tell me.” Pic sniffed, coughed, and bent his knees, putting his hands on his thighs. The crouch was a compromise, because what he suddenly wanted to do more than anythin
g was lay back down and sleep. “Because the answer’s no. To whatever. Go the hell away.”
“I’m not leaving you here. You’re sick, Pic.”
“Gee. And you’re brilliant, Steroid-man. Glad to see you still have three brain cells left.” Hell. Hell. Hell. How freaking cold is it going to get? “And by the way, you shouldn’t sneak up on people. Could get you killed.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you. I called your name before approaching. Yelled it a few times, as a matter of fact. You were in such a dead sleep, you didn’t hear me. Then I had a dilemma. Walk up to you and nudge you awake, and bear the brunt of your scared-as-shit clumsy moves, or figure out some other way to get your attention.”
Pic glanced at Gabe, as the man’s words sunk in. He had on gloves and a leather bomber jacket. He didn’t look like he was freezing. And his light eyes, even in the darkness, were nice-guy eyes. Luring him in.
Not gonna happen.
“I didn’t want to have to knock you on your ass,” Gabe continued, “so I decided rock throwing was a great way to get your attention. Know how many rocks I threw that hit your back before you got up?”
Pic ignored him. He reached for his backpack, slung it on his shoulder, and found his knife. He slipped it back into his pocket, then reached for his guitar case. Gripping the handle, he stood and started climbing to the top of the levee.
“Six. Let that sink in. You were so dead to the world, it took six rocks to get you on your feet. Imagine what those guys from last night would’ve done to you in that time. And I don’t think they’d have been offering you cash for anything they’d planned.”
Six rocks? No way.
“Fuck you.” Pic climbed to the crest of the levee, and paused to catch his breath when he made it to the top where there was a path worn in the grass by joggers and bikers. He had no idea what time it was. Didn’t matter, anyway. A van crawled along the street that ran parallel to the levee. It passed under a streetlight.
Two men were in it.
Shit.
For a second, Pic froze. Knowing he needed to run, yet unable to move.
“They’re with me,” Gabe said, his voice low. Reassuring. “Matter of fact, they’ve been following you ever since you were on the street corner playing with Tank and Honey.”
“No way.”
“Yes. Way. You didn’t notice them when they were virtually in your shadow the whole time. That’s how oblivious you are to the world. They told me you were spending the night outside and that you were looking pretty damn sick. That’s why I came out here to take you to Andi’s guesthouse. And I’m not lying about how hard it was to wake you. I thought you might’ve died. I was worried about how I was going to break that news to Andi. Come on. Get in the SUV.”
“No.” Other than that one SUV, no cars were in sight. The neighborhood streets running perpendicular to the levee were quiet—no cars moving, no people in sight. Pic’s legs felt rubbery. He managed one step, heading downriver. Another step. One step more.
Gabe fell into step with him, an arm’s length away. “Where the hell are you going?”
“None of your business.”
Six rocks? Two men following me? Really? I’m going to get my ass murdered. Or worse.
“You can barely walk, you’re so goddamn sick. You’re a sitting duck for predators, and you and I both know the guys with the stun gun from last night are looking for you. I’m betting by the time they’re through with you, you won’t even be able to complain about whatever it is they decide to shove up your ass. You’ve maybe got twenty more steps before you pass ou—”
“Look, dude—”
“It’s my turn to say shut up. Because it’s cold and goddamn miserable out here and talking to your sorry ass on this levee in the middle of this night is the last place I want to be. After this afternoon, I was wondering why you’ve never taken Andi up on her offer to live in her guesthouse. My money’s on the fact that you’re running from something bad. Something as bad as I could possibly imagine and trust me, I’ve imagined, and seen, a lot.”
Pic stopped walking for a second. Needed a breather. He would’ve told Gabe to fuck off, but the words got lost in a cough, then another, then he was hunched over, facing Gabe, his back to the river, and coughing like his lungs were coming out of his chest.
“And maybe, just maybe, you did something. Maybe you broke the law, and you don’t want to pay the price for it. You know what? I don’t give a damn what you’re running away from and I don’t have any magical answers to fix your life. But if Andi wants me to help you, I will.”
Pic managed to stop coughing long enough to say something. “Newsflash, asshole. I’m not looking for help from you!”
Yelling at steroid man came with a steep price. More coughing. He bent over, and tried to get a good cough out, as Gabe muttered some things he couldn’t make out, presumably to his imaginary friend. Pic would’ve paid attention, but he was trying to make his current cough the cough that would end all coughs. But it only brought more out. The green shit that filled his lungs like glue had solidified and wouldn’t come up. But it sure hurt his ribs like hell and, with each cough, he felt as though his throat had been sandblasted.
“I know you’re not looking for help. But a man has to learn when he needs it, Pic, and right now, you need it as much as anyone I’ve ever seen. You need meds, and you have to get out of this wet weather. People die from this kind of shit. I bet it’s pneumonia, but—” He gave a shrug, and a headshake. “—what do I know? I’m not a doctor.”
Pic had walked maybe fifteen yards. He needed a breather. He dropped to his knees. And so did Gabe.
“I’m also betting that the fact that Andi’s got security surrounding her 24/7 is one big reason why you haven’t accepted her offer. You’re afraid of exposure, and someone who’s afraid of exposure certainly isn’t stepping into the middle of a security ring. Am I right?”
“Okay. You win. You’re brilliant,” he spat out, as the world started spinning. Fuck. I’m going to throw up again. “Now go home and jerk off.”
“Nope. Not done yet. Here’s where I make a promise to you. I don’t care what started the rolling avalanche of bad shit that led you to live on the streets. Whether you did something, or someone else did something. Andi has her reasons for wanting to protect your sorry ass. And I’m damn well going to respect that. So I promise you–wherever your home is–Black Raven will not send you back there.”
From his kneeling position, Pic glanced up at Gabe. His vision blurred, and played a trick, ‘cause he saw two of the huge guy. Six rocks? He thought of the men from the night before.
“I’ll go,” Pic muttered, as blackness closed in on the edges of his vision. “For tonight.”
“There’s one caveat,” Gabe said, getting down on one knee and snapping his fingers in front of Pic’s face. “Listen to me, kid, because it’s important. If you do anything that hurts Andi, in any way, I will personally see to it that you regret it.” The guy was leaning forward, so it was easy for Pic to see that the nice-guy look was gone from Gabe’s eyes. It was replaced with a grimness that promised deep fury. Coming from someone who was so cool, calm, and disarmingly chatty, the sudden shift to hard-ass was shocking. “You understand me?”
Pic nodded and, despite the murky clouds that were building in his brain, he felt a common bond with the guy. “Yeah. Got it. But it’s not necessary to threaten me with that. I’d die before I’d hurt her. Before I’d let anyone hurt her.”
Some of the lightness returned to Gabe’s eyes. “Glad you feel that way.”
Gabe nodded, stood, and extended a hand.
Pic tried to stand without Gabe’s help, but the weight of his backpack and the guitar was suddenly too much. He let Gabe help him up, then let him take the guitar as they headed down the levee, to the waiting SUV.
“I was listening to the story that you told Andi about last night. I got the sense you were holding something back. Something worse than the version you gave her. An
d I know that’s the real reason you’re agreeing to go with me right now. Am I right?”
“Yeah,” Pic mumbled, too worn down to argue.
“Well? What was it?”
The gentle downward slope of the levee suddenly seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. He didn’t have one more step in him. He could barely put one foot in front of the other, because his knees weren’t holding up his legs. Or his body. And Pic wanted to tell Gabe, because it was scary as shit. Scarier than a gun. Scarier than…anything. “A syringe. Dude had a syringe.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Once I saw that syringe in his hand, I knew I was fucked. But a car alarm went off, and they stopped moving on me. It gave me a chance to get away. They hesitated when the alarm went off, and I didn’t stick around. I ran, and I guess they did too. I know they weren’t after my things, because I left them all on the ground. I went back after a few minutes, hoping they’d at least have left my duffel. I was shocked as shit to find my guitar there, and my duffel, right where I’d left the stuff. The syringe tells me they wanted me.”
Pic shut his eyes, and as the earth reached up to swallow him, he felt strong arms close around him, keeping him from hitting the ground. For the first time in years, Pic felt safe.
Chapter Twenty Four
Andi
Orange and blue flames licked the edges of the paper before jet black-rimmed holes appeared, then spread. Andi had been sitting cross-legged in front of the library’s fireplace for almost an hour. Despite the fire’s heat, her warm sweatshirt, and thick leggings, she was cold.
It was after midnight. Outside, the temperature was making a newsworthy plummet. Last she checked, it was thirty-eight degrees. Positively frigid for New Orleans at any time during the winter, and especially so in February.
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