Keep It Classy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “How do you know that he slept in his car?” Rome asked.

  I looked over at the big ex-football player and shrugged. “It was either that or outside under the elements. And I never saw a tent there. Just him sitting in his car.”

  Castiel shook his head. “There was nobody there when I came to get the RV.”

  “And you said the park was closed to through traffic, correct?” Zee asked.

  “Yep,” Castiel answered. “They were open from ten to eleven this morning when we came to pick it up for all the campers that were checking in for the day. That’s it.”

  “Not totally ruined.” Bayou dropped down on his haunches next to the motorcycle. “Gonna need some body work. Some new parts. But it’s drivable. Looks like he did this with a bat or a crowbar. Only surface damage really.”

  I agreed.

  But still. It looked really bad.

  At first I thought someone might’ve hit it with their vehicle, but upon closer inspection, it did look to be a metal pipe of some sort that seemed to do all the damage.

  “Whoever did it was pissed as hell,” Liner muttered. “Takes a lot of anger to put that kind of damage on a piece of steel.”

  I agreed with that for sure.

  “Could be a sign that whatever case you’re on, you’re close to figuring something out,” Linc suggested. “Didn’t you say there was a break in the case today?”

  Castiel nodded. “Even more than a break. The man that’s suspected of doing the murders messed up and went online to upload his newest movie. The IP address, though routed through multiple fake destinations, still shows to be oriented in Bear Bottom. Or at least within a couple miles of our location.”

  Bayou bent over and picked up something off the ground, then held it out to me. “Anybody you know smoke?”

  I didn’t reach for it.

  “No,” I instantly replied. “And I don’t want that.”

  He held it out to Castiel then. “Might be something of use to you. I know this isn’t evidence from whoever trashed your bike, but maybe it’s his and he’s been watching your house, too.”

  Castiel pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, then gestured for Bayou to drop it into it.

  He did, and Castiel folded the piece of fabric up around it before shoving it back into his pocket.

  “I have to go back to work,” he admitted. “Thanks for helping me get it.” Castiel sighed, his eyes going to me. “Come inside for a second?”

  I shrugged and did as he asked, heading with him into the house.

  “I’m sorry about your bike,” I said softly.

  Castiel shrugged. “It’s a bike. Luckily, I have good insurance on it. But, for now, I’m stuck driving that stupid car that makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Over exaggeration much?”

  He grinned and lurched for me, wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me straight up off my feet.

  His face was only inches from mine as he said, “I don’t know what happened to my bike. I don’t know why. It would be super if you could pay attention to your surroundings today.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I have to go into the funeral home and do a little work on a few people that came in late last night. Their families want their services as soon as possible, so I’ll be there all day. I have to finish up my subtitles tonight for the project that I’ve been working on. If I’m not there at the funeral home, I’ll be here in the RV,” I told him. “There will be no need for worrying on your part.”

  He blew out a relieved breath. “I’m not saying that anything will happen…I just have a bad feeling and I want you to be aware.”

  I leaned down and kissed him on the nose. “Go ahead and stop worrying. I’ll be following you into work anyway.”

  He winked. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

  I snickered and reached for my keys that were in his hand. “Stay safe today.”

  Chapter 19

  I’ve had my name mispronounced so many times at this point I’m not sure I’m saying it correctly.

  -Text from Castiel to Turner

  Turner

  I finally realized why the guitar disappeared on Mondays and Wednesdays a week later when I might’ve accidentally followed Castiel to where he snuck off to.

  It wasn’t because I didn’t trust him or anything.

  It was because I was just fucking curious.

  That, and I had a lot of spare time on my hands.

  And when I was left with spare time, I was left thinking about things that I shouldn’t be thinking about—like who was going to bake the pies for Christmas, and who I was going to help make the mashed potatoes and stuffing with. Who was going to make the broccoli cheese rice casserole that happened to be one of the only things I could stomach after my surgery and loved.

  I’d also not intentionally set out to follow him. I’d just seen him heading somewhere after I’d finished up at the funeral parlor. I’d been headed to the store to buy some new color for my own hair, thinking I wanted to spice things up a little bit with a few flashy colors when I’d seen him pass by in his car.

  Then I’d turned out behind him without thinking.

  I was following my boyfriend, and I was actually kind of ashamed about it.

  But I’d seen the guitar gone this morning and I’d wondered if that was what was going to happen today. But when I’d called him on my way to work, I could hear Easton in the background talking to himself, and I knew that he was at work.

  He must be on his lunch break, I thought to myself as I slowed and watched him turn into the hospital.

  I frowned ferociously as he pulled into a parking spot that was just outside the ER entrance.

  Luckily, before he could make it too far across the parking lot, I too found a spot and expertly backed my truck in like I’d never done before.

  Normally it took me two tries to get the big beast perfectly in between the lines—so sue me, I was anal—but my truck just slid into the spot like butter and I was bailing out of it and hauling ass across the parking lot before I could blink.

  I’d just seen him walk in the elevator, spied the lit-up number three, and watched the doors close as I broached the entrance.

  Cursing under my breath, I pressed the elevator up button, then thought to hell with it and aimed for the stairs.

  Four flights—why were there freakin’ two per landing?—later I was pushing out of the door onto a unit. The children’s intensive care unit.

  I frowned.

  Then movement caught my eye.

  It was Castiel’s back as he walked away from the nurses’ station.

  I stayed in the entrance to the stairwell for a while as I watched him walk away, the neck of the guitar held loosely in his hand.

  When he went inside a room, I took a step out.

  The closer I got to the glass doors that surrounded the room, the more tight my belly got, until it was a bundle of knots as I walked up to the partition.

  Then, for the next half hour, I watched through the glass door of the hospital room as Castiel played his guitar beside the bed of what had to be a ten-year-old little boy.

  The little boy looked dwarfed in the full-size hospital bed, and I instantly felt my heart start to pound.

  Who was this little boy?

  Was it the boy he was telling me about? The one that he didn’t get to see anymore?

  Holy shit but I needed answers.

  And this time, I would get them. Not because I was mad or upset, but because as I watched him, I could clearly tell that he was upset.

  Devastated, in fact.

  Nobody bothered me in the thirty minutes that he played.

  The nurses had to have seen me.

  They had to have been curious as to why I was standing there watching, yet they stayed away, and I was thankful.

  When he was finally done, he walked close to the bed and the small boy,
and ran a blunt finger across his forehead, swiping some hair out of his face.

  That’s when I took in the tubes that had to be keeping him alive.

  There were a lot of them, so many in fact that I had a feeling that if even one slipped free that it would go badly.

  I didn’t bother to hide as Castiel turned around and started out of the room.

  The moment he stepped out, his eyes came directly to me, as if he’d known I was there the entire time.

  “He would hate living like this,” Castiel said, voice slightly cracking. “Fucking hate it.”

  I felt my belly knot even tighter.

  He’d known I was there.

  I was sure of it.

  “How did you know I was here?” I questioned.

  His lips twitched.

  “You are a good driver, I’ll give you that,” he said. “But you don’t have any evasive driving skills whatsoever. And I clocked you about a half a block in.”

  I snickered. “Nobody has taught me those just yet.” I paused. “Unless you’re offering.”

  His eyes lifted to mine. “I’d teach you whatever you’re willing to know.”

  I smiled and held out my hand to him, which he took.

  He nodded at the nurses, who looked at him with pity and me with curiosity and walked with me to the elevator.

  The moment they opened and then closed firmly behind us, I said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He was silent until we reached the ground floor, and when we got out to the parking lot, he led me to my truck and not his vehicle—which were not close.

  He really had clocked me way before I’d known.

  When we got to the truck, he opened the door for me and gestured for me to get inside.

  I did, but left my legs pointing outward and spread slightly as I waited for him to talk.

  He set the guitar against the wheel well of my truck and then leaned in between my splayed thighs.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and dropped my head down to rest on top of his.

  That was when he shattered my world.

  “I told you that when we were married—my ex and me—her nephew came to live with us,” he started. “But I didn’t tell you that just before we’d filed for divorce, my nephew had an accident.”

  I had a really bad feeling about what I was about to hear.

  I smoothed my hand through his short hair.

  It was longer than usual, and I had a feeling it would be buzzed back off within the next day or two. He never let it get too long, and this was long for him. At least from what I’d been able to observe in my time watching him before actually being with him.

  “Yeah,” I said. “What happened in that accident?”

  He shivered.

  “He asked if he could go swimming, and I said no. That I was too busy. I had a big case that I was working on, and I was making phone calls and researching. I told him I’d take him in ten minutes, and to go get dressed but wait upstairs until I came to get him. I was another seven minutes, max.” He shook his head. “Well, since he still wanted to go, and I was busy, he went by himself. He drowned, and I didn’t even know it.” He swallowed hard. “My ex came home and found him like that with me two rooms away.”

  A tear slipped out of my eyes.

  “When they got him to the hospital, they were able to get a pulse back…but his brain activity was almost non-existent.” He cleared his throat and looked up at me, that was when I saw the hurt in his eyes. “He’s spent the last four years in that hospital bed with no quality of life whatsoever. Our divorce went through, and my ex made sure that I wasn’t allowed on the visitor’s list for him. But, I found a way to get to him, and I still come sing to him twice a week. But…the doctors and nurses say that he’s declining. Has been declining since the beginning.”

  I saw the utter devastation written clearly on his face, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that hurt away.

  “I think my ex was relieved, to be honest. With her being divorced and having so much ‘work to do’ being the governor’s daughter and it being an election year, it worked out for her. And what a good story it made for the governor’s race.” He shook his head. “The thing is, she’s not even mad at me for it happening. She didn’t cry when it happened. Didn’t get pissed and yell. Nothing. She just looked on like we hadn’t had that boy living with us or that it was her nephew. Just like she was visiting a random sick child in the hospital. One that she decided needed to stay alive by all means. Even if they were extreme.”

  I dropped my forehead to his.

  “God, Castiel,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

  He squeezed my hips.

  “We had a lock on the pool. A childproof gate around it. There were sensors in place—I’d insisted that we get them. Yet all of them failed. My ex had left the gate open that morning when she’d gone for her morning swim. The sensors had also malfunctioned. There was not a thing I could do…yet I still feel guilty as hell,” he recounted.

  Seems we both shouldered some guilt when we shouldn’t.

  “Next time, I’d like to go with you,” I said, cupping his bearded cheek. “To play.”

  He smiled against my hand, then turned his face so that he could kiss my palm.

  “I gotta get back to work, pretty girl,” he said. “And you need to go watch some porn.”

  I snickered. “I do need to do that.”

  His mouth twitched into a small smile.

  I gave him one last kiss, and then he was off across the parking lot to his truck.

  I was about to back out when there was a knock on my window.

  I saw a man—one that looked so familiar—standing there.

  I blinked at him as I rolled my window down.

  “You have a guitar leaning against your truck,” he smiled.

  I poked my head out of the window and said, “Oh!”

  Pushing the door open, I hopped out and grabbed it. “Thank you so much. That would’ve been awful if I’d run it over.”

  The man hadn’t moved when I’d jumped out and was really close to me since there was a car parked next to me.

  I squeezed by him, keeping the guitar between us, and gave him my best forced smile.

  He shrugged. “No problem. Would’ve hated to see it run over.”

  I grinned at him.

  “I swear, you’re so familiar to me,” I said as I put the guitar into my front seat. “Do I know you?”

  He tilted his head. “I don’t know. Do you?”

  I grimaced. “Uhhh. It feels like I do.”

  He grinned. “Maybe we do.”

  Then he was walking away without looking back.

  I watched him go as a shiver coursed down my spine.

  So. Weird.

  Chapter 20

  You know it’s cold outside when you go outside and it’s cold.

  -Text from Castiel to Turner

  Castiel

  “Just fucking stand there, like a good little boy, and let me get the goddamn picture,” my captain practically snarled. “I just want to see if the dog has an owner. If he does, then I want him to get home.”

  Goddamn, my captain and his bleeding heart when it came to lost animals.

  “I don’t like my picture being taken,” I told him bluntly. “Make sure that you take it, and then crop me out of it or something.”

  My captain rolled his eyes.

  “You’re being a baby,” he said.

  I wasn’t being a baby.

  I hated having my picture taken. That was that.

  Oh, and I had somewhere to be.

  Like home, with Turner, doing things like eating, napping, and having sex.

  Not particularly in that order.

  Yet I was here, holding a dog that the chief had found, and the chief was taking my picture.

  Once he was done, I handed the dog over and brushed the hair off of my police uniform.
/>   I hated wearing it.

  Normally I got to do the plain clothes thing seeing as I was a detective, but today I’d had to appear in court. The damn thing had taken over two hours out of my day of usual work, but that worked since Easton and I had hit yet another dead end on the case we were working on.

  It’d been three weeks since we’d had a hit on his email address, and all had been quiet since then.

  Which led us to now.

  Me needing to do other things besides sit around and twiddle my thumbs.

  “I have hair all over me now,” I muttered darkly.

  The chief handed me a lint roller off his desk and said, “Get home. Have a good weekend.”

  I nodded once. “I will. You, too, Chief.”

  With that I started out of the chief’s office and headed to the parking lot, being sure to flip off Easton as I passed him in my office.

  He flipped me off in return, and I was grinning as I made my way out to the parking lot.

  But when I got home, it wasn’t to find my woman where she was supposed to be.

  When I called her, she answered immediately.

  “Hey!” she chirped. “I’m in the RV.”

  I immediately changed directions and started back outside, but paused at the door to shuck my shirt, shoes, and gun.

  Placing them on the side table next to the entranceway, I headed in her direction, stopping only once when I stepped on a sticker in the grass.

  Cursing the bright idea of me taking off my shoes before I’d walked across the grass that I knew had fucking stickers in them, I walked very carefully to the front of the RV.

  Thanking all that was holy that I only got two more on my way to her, I hopped up lightly on the first step and pulled the door open wide.

  The first thing I saw as I walked inside was the massive eighty-inch television playing porn.

  I got a face full of cock and tits—or more aptly a cock fucking a pair of tits—and immediately felt myself get hard.

  Why?

  Because I thought about doing that exact thing with Turner and I couldn’t help where my mind wandered.

  “Hey,” I cleared my throat. “You working?”

  I hoped.

  She shook her head. “No. Watching a porn for once…though only because I wanted to see how this one came out. This is the one that I was paid extra to do the rush job on. It’s ‘trending’ on the website tonight.”