“Hey!” He couldn’t prevent a grin from splitting his cheeks wide, and he didn’t care. He jogged down the steps and grabbed him up in a hard hug.
The feel of Lucas’s rough hands sliding beneath his jacket when he hugged back did more to relax every knot of tension in Elliot’s body than a glass of brandy and a hot shower. The clean, masculine smell of his soap filled Elliot’s lungs on the inhale.
“You’re later than usual,” Lucas said with a crooked smile that showed his dimple. “I got tired of loafing around your place. If you’re finished, I thought I’d take you to dinner for a change.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” Elliot glanced back at Greg. “We were just wrapping up.”
“Friend of yours?” Greg asked. His smile was thin, and the pinched note in his voice was disconcerting. While they’d been in a relationship, his displays of jealousy had always been oddly theatrical, as if he’d had an idea he should act jealous even if he didn’t give much of a damn.
Elliot ground his teeth together. But it would look damn strange if he hustled Lucas down the block without an introduction, especially to Lucas himself. Elliot was keenly aware of his fragile comfort with their different social circles, but no matter how many times he’d tried to point out that he was a broke attorney from a middle class family, Lucas persisted in this idea that Elliot was one step removed from vacationing on Martha’s Vineyard.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucas Kelly, this is Greg Vernon.”
Greg thrust out his hand like it was a lance. “What do you do, Luke?”
It was a miracle the man won any cases if that veneer of civility was the best he could do.
“I work on cars,” Lucas replied.
“He runs his own business,” Elliot immediately interjected.
Lucas’s mouth tightened, and he shot Elliot an unreadable look from beneath his lashes. He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “In the end, it’s still working on cars.”
“That’s true.” Greg chortled and gave Lucas a good ol’ boy slap across the back. Lucas stiffened and lifted his chin like a wild dog scenting the air. Elliot didn’t like the gleam in his eyes, but Greg continued obliviously. “Never let it be said that it’s not important work, Luke! The mechanics and sanitation workers are the unsung heroes of the city. Few could do jobs like that day in and day out.”
God, what a pretentious asshole! Elliot stared at Greg, appalled, but he snapped out of his shock when Lucas took a step forward. Elliot grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him back. “We’ll be seeing you, Greg,” he said hurriedly.
“Oh, hey!” Lucas snapped his fingers as realization struck him. “Greg. You the cheater?”
Elliot clapped a hand over his face and groaned.
“That’s between Elliot and myself,” Greg answered coldly.
“It was,” Lucas amended. “Doesn’t look like much of anything is between you two anymore.”
Greg’s teeth flashed, white and sharp. Oddly enough, he reminded Elliot of a river otter about to tear into a fish. It wasn’t a pleasant image. “You don’t seriously think someone like you could stop me if I decided I wanted him back? We had five years together, Luke. I bet he hasn’t even introduced you to his family.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! I wish I hadn’t introduced you to my family!”
Greg shrugged and flicked a piece of lint from his suit. “That doesn’t change my point. I guess you haven’t had your fill of slumming yet, huh? Like this pissant office isn’t bad enough. Are you using protection, at least? I hope you’ve been tested.”
Lucas was on top of Greg before either of them realized what had happened. His hands fisted the expensive wool of his jacket, and with one swift power drive, he’d slammed the smaller man into the building. Greg’s head snapped back against the brick facade, and Elliot cringed even as he cranked an arm around Lucas’s neck and attempted to drag him away. It was like trying to budge a freight train.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Elliot growled, squeezing hard enough that he worried he was cutting off Lucas’s air. A moment later he was even more concerned when it didn’t seem to make any difference. “You’re a felon, Lucas! You’ll go to jail if he presses charges!”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Lucas shook Greg hard enough that his skull slapped against the brick again.
“Well, I do! Let him go, goddammit!” Elliot heaved and finally got his grip loosened. He slapped his hand flat on the center of Lucas’s chest and propelled him back a few steps. Lucas was shaking, ignoring Elliot completely, his eyes fixed only on his target and promising violence. Elliot did his best to block Greg from his view, cupping Lucas’s face in his hand and whispering, “Just breathe, baby. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. You’re better than this.”
Lucas’s eyes were so blue. The fury in them had brightened them to a shade that was almost otherworldly. Elliot held his gaze and pressed their foreheads together. He’d never seen Lucas so furious, but he remembered the pain and anger in his mugshot from all those years ago. He’d always known the potential was there.
“Please, Lucas,” he pleaded.
Lucas’s eyelashes fluttered. He blinked rapidly, sucking in a deep breath and releasing it in a long quavering stream. It took a few more deep breaths before he gave a nod and Elliot felt the danger recede.
Greg was hunched in on himself, rubbing the back of his head with a trembling hand. He was smiling, though. It was a twisted thing, both bitter and victorious. “I didn’t mean to offend you, friend. I was only watching out for Elliot’s best interest.”
Elliot was so angry, part of him wished Lucas had done a little more damage.
“No offense taken,” Lucas said through gritted teeth, “so long as you aren’t offended that Elliot is finally being satisfied by a man and not a micropenis.”
“Aaand we’re done here.” Elliot manfully tugged Lucas backward. “You’ll forget this ever happened if you know what’s good for you, Greg.”
“Do you know what’s good for you, Elliot?” Greg called after him.
Elliot ignored him, hooking an arm around Lucas’s waist and guiding him toward the parking garage. When he glanced back, Greg had already retreated to his car. His headlights flashed before he gunned the BMW and peeled down the street with a squeal from the tires.
“He doesn’t even know how to treat a goddamn vehicle,” Lucas muttered. Elliot looked at him askance and he bristled, “What, did you want to go with him? Don’t let me stand in the way!”
“Don’t be an asshole.” He kept his tone mild, but Lucas wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable.
“I’m the asshole?”
“No, he’s the asshole. You’re just acting like an asshole. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.”
Lucas jerked away from his grasp. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and hunched against the weather. The streetlights didn’t do much to ease his dark expression. Elliot half expected him to storm over to his motorcycle and leave, but to his relief, he followed Elliot to the Prius and climbed into the passenger seat instead.
Elliot was amazed. Lucas was one of the most confident men he’d ever dated. He should be laughing off such ridiculous comments from an obviously jealous man. Greg was out of line, of course, but Lucas’s reaction was out of proportion. It made no sense.
Elliot didn’t start the engine. Tension blasted from the passenger seat like heat from the sun, so he just sat with his hands resting flat on his thighs and waited.
Eventually, Lucas muttered, “The thought of you fucking a little worm like that makes me sick.”
“Is that what your little show was all about?”
“No. It’s about your ex being a complete dick. Is that the type of people you normally hang out with?”
Elliot gazed thoughtfully through the windshield. The garage was dark in the fading evening, but he could just make out a giggling couple buying a ticket from the parking meter. He’d been looking forward to a ligh
thearted night, just the two of them. He’d laughed more with Lucas than he could remember ever laughing in his life. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone like Greg ruining what should have been a fantastic evening.
“It used to be,” he admitted. He cleared his throat. “You can see now why most of them wanted nothing to do with me when I willfully changed my income and social status.”
Lucas fiddled with the heating vents. Elliot might have considered it a nervous gesture if it weren’t such a ridiculous concept coming from someone like Lucas. “Did you get a lobotomy with your midlife crisis or what? How the hell could you go from someone like that to someone like me?”
Elliot sighed. He reached out and grabbed Lucas’s hand, ignoring the fraction of a second when Lucas attempted to pull away. He dipped his head and brushed a kiss across his rough knuckles.
“My taste has improved with age,” he said with exasperation. “Can we not spend the rest of the evening arguing about Greg Vernon? He isn’t here. You are. And I’ve waited far too long to make good on losing our bet. I’m ready to accept my terms of defeat.”
“Aren’t you hungry?” Lucas asked reluctantly.
Elliot clasped him behind the neck and drew him forward. He felt the warmth of Lucas’s anticipatory breath against his mouth as he teased them both with a fleeting kiss. “Ravenous,” he whispered.
But before he could sink into the kiss, Elliot’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He was tempted to ignore it, but he so rarely received phone calls that they were usually important. He fished it out into the open, stifling a flash of irritation when Julio Gonzalez’s name flashed on his screen.
“Julio, I told you I’d call you the day before the hearing—”
“I need help, Mr. Smith!”
Elliot’s blood froze. He’d never heard the young man sound so terrified. “What’s wrong? What happened? Do you need the police? Julio!”
“The police are already on their way, Mr. S. But I swear I didn’t do it! I need somewhere to hide, man!”
“What? No, absolutely not! Are you planning to abandon your gran?”
“Fuck no!”
“Then anywhere you hide, you’ll be found. Where are you?”
“I’m at home,” Julio moaned. “But Gabe says the police are on their way.”
“Stay there, and say nothing until I get there. I’m on my way.” Juan disconnected the call without replying, and Elliot cursed. He turned the key in the ignition and reversed out of his parking space. Lucas had already buckled his seatbelt, and now he watched Elliot with concern.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I think Julio just committed a crime.”
14
Lucas
Elliot must have broken a dozen traffic laws getting across town, but Lucas didn’t say a word to slow him down. He gripped the door handle and braced himself on the tight turns, but he kept his other hand flat on Elliot’s thigh to keep him calm. It was difficult trying to focus on calming someone else when anger still pulsed through him at regular intervals.
His irritation kept cycling back to that dumpster fire of a scene in front of Elliot’s office. He should have known better than to go anywhere near a den of lawyers. They weren’t his people. Just thinking about how that pompous little dweeb asked what he did for a living made him want to break something. Like there was something shameful about honest work. Honest work had been a fucking dream of Lucas’s back when he was a kid.
Elliot was nothing like that dipshit with the punchable face. Lucas knew that. But there were similarities, weren’t there? They were both educated, white-collar men. Even though Elliot didn’t consider himself wealthy anymore, he still brought home more than Lucas did even now that he owned the garage. Even the CLC offered benefits like paid time off and a 401k. His class of people always looked down on men with dirty jobs and dirty records. Lucas had always known that. It hadn’t mattered when he was just looking for Elliot to be a quick fuck. But somewhere along the way he’d started imagining there could be something more between them. That was what had him so furious.
His alarms should have been ringing the moment he decided to show up at Elliot’s work like it was his right. He definitely should have taken a step back when he felt possessiveness clawing at the back of his neck. If not for Elliot having the strength to restrain him, Lucas might have ended up back behind bars for assault.
He couldn’t shake the idea that the little worm was right. Elliot was slumming. He hadn’t missed the way Elliot seemed to thrill at the feel of his calloused hands on his body or the way he practically purred when he got to Lucas before he’d showered off the workday’s grime. That kind of thrill was going to evaporate, sooner rather than later, and Elliot would return to the yachting trips and champagne brunches of his own kind.
He remembered how quickly Elliot had spouted off that he owned the garage rather than just working there, as if there was something shameful about working on cars for a living. Then there was the way he occasionally brought up Lucas’s past. Elliot was always cautious about it, almost professional. He couldn’t help but wonder if Elliot viewed him the same as all the other poor slobs who shuffled through his office day in and day out, looking for someone to unfuck their lives.
That idea hadn’t bothered him before. Back when they first began this… thing… Lucas had been almost gleefully eager to meet every low class expectation Elliot had, so that he could rub his face in it when things inevitably went south.
He didn’t know when things had changed, when he had changed. But the thought of Elliot realizing Lucas was a mistake nauseated him.
But he kept it together, because Elliot needed him. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and Lucas could see the pulse flickering in his throat. He stroked Elliot’s thigh, trying to soothe him. The sudden, dramatic reversal of their positions left him feeling off kilter.
Damn that kid. He’d had a good shot of getting his record expunged, according to Elliot. He could have lived his life free and clear. Lucas would kill for a chance like that. His record hung over his head even now, with his own apartment and the garage in his name. If he didn’t have a record, Elliot wouldn’t have had to shout he was a felon in front of his little weasel of an ex-boyfriend. Lucas could have pummeled him without risking a harsher sentence as a repeat offender. Maybe not the first benefit he should be thinking of, but it would be a definite bonus.
“You have no idea what he did?” Lucas asked, holding his breath as Elliot jammed the Prius into a tiny parking spot on the narrow streets of Julio’s neighborhood.
“No!” Elliot snarled. “He has a job, he has his gran, he was keeping away from his old friends. How could he fuck this up?”
“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he really does need your help. We don’t know what happened yet.”
Elliot gave him a cynical look, and Lucas shrugged. He didn’t really believe it himself. Three years at Snake River and a friendship with Arnold had introduced him to the reality of how high the recidivism rates were for kids like Julio. But the rush to judgment left him feeling vaguely uncomfortable.
Elliot was already halfway down the sidewalk before Lucas had a chance to lock the car behind him. He didn’t think it was likely anyone would want to steal a Prius, even in this neighborhood, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
He stuck close to Elliot’s back, struggling with an unexpected sense of disdain as Elliot rushed headlong down the sidewalk, heedless of his surroundings. He was going to get himself hurt one day if he wasn’t more careful. Lucas was only too aware of the curious eyes on them, even in the darkness.
Barely any of the streetlights were operational, and the lookee-loos became thicker as they approached a strip of dilapidated ground level apartments. Neighbors sat in lawn chairs on the sidewalk or huddled together in ratty sweatshirts and puffy coats, chatting as if they weren’t keeping their eyes peeled on the three police cars taking up most of the tiny parking lot.
It was a Hollywood myth t
hat neighbors hid and tried to keep out of trouble when the cops showed up. People were simple creatures. Watching someone else get arrested had high entertainment value and broke up the daily grind. Lucas had known a man at Snake River who’d gotten caught on a parole violation when he hadn’t been able to resist waltzing up to the cops and giving them the back story on a suspect they were arresting.
The closer they got to the cars, two cruisers and one unmarked, the bigger and heavier the boulder in Lucas’s stomach became. He hated dealing with cops, or anyone in a position of authority, for that matter. They made his hindbrain feel like a scared and angry teenager all over again, and he reacted to his fear with anger.
Just then, two uniformed officers exited an apartment. Even in the darkness, it was easy to spot Julio between them, pale and sweating and small looking. His hands were already cuffed behind his back. An elderly Hispanic woman stood in the open doorway of one of the apartments, wearing a floral housedress and slippers and wringing her hands as a woman in a suit wrapped up a Miranda warning.
“Excuse me!” Elliot called.
Lucas swore and grabbed hold of his jacket before he could charge right in there. “Jesus, Elliot! Don’t just shout at them like that!”
Elliot cut him a glare and shrugged off his hand, but he’d stopped his forward progression, and that was all Lucas cared about. The cops in question didn’t look particularly jumpy, however. The uniforms glanced at them with bored expressions and the detective appraised them curiously.
“Mr. S! Mr. Kelly!” Julio yelled as soon as he spotted them. “I ain’t done nothing, Mr. Smith, I swear!”
Elliot ignored him. “I’m Elliot Smith, Mr. Gonzalez’s attorney.”
The detective gestured for them to approach. Lucas’s palms were sweating, but Elliot appeared cool as a spring breeze. He must work with the police a lot, Lucas realized. He seemed absolutely at ease as he shook hands with the woman and dug into his pocket for a business card. Lucas, meanwhile, wasn’t planning on making any sudden movements. When the woman turned to him with an inquiring expression, he reluctantly held out his hand and muttered, “Lucas Kelly. I’m Julio’s employer.”
Risk Assessment Page 10