Reggie scowled. “They haven’t seen us, yet. You can’t see the river from the driveway,” he claimed. “Crawl into the forest and hide. I’m going to get back in the river and fish, just like I’ve been doing every day. I’ll send them on their way.”
While Miguel hated the idea of ditching his lover to his sadistic ex-lover, he feared Monty even more. “Okay,” he whispered. After getting one more hard, swift kiss from Reggie, Miguel slithered behind the nearest tree, then scampered into the forest.
Miguel didn’t go far. Once he was certain he was out of sight of the driveway, he took a quick lay of the land. He saw the way the trees grew along the river, their branches high, thick, and often intertwining.
Drawing on skills honed from years of free running—jumping off second story balconies, leaping over park benches, and running along metal stairway railings—he grabbed a low tree branch and swung into a tree. Miguel stood on the branch, balancing on the slick bark. He took in the way the branches intertwined, then carefully crossed to another tree.
Miguel made his way, as silently as possible, as close to the edge of the trees as he could. He spotted Reggie in the river just as he heard Monty shout at his lover. Reggie, standing in the middle of the river, had his back to Miguel’s ex-lover... well, mostly. He had his rarely-used glasses perched on his nose and he appeared to be focusing on casting his fly line.
“Hey, old man!”
Glaring through the leaves, Miguel watched Reggie start, then turn toward Monty. He did a fantastic job of appearing surprised to see the muscular late-thirty-year-old male standing on his bank. Reggie seemed to sweep his gaze up and down him, then turned back to his fly line, slowly reeling it in.
“Hello, young man,” Reggie greeted, casting his voice deeper than how he normally spoke. “What can I do for you? You need directions somewhere?”
“Not so much,” Monty replied. He crossed his arms over his chest. From his stance, Miguel knew he didn’t like the fact that Reggie was focusing more on his line and less on him. “I’m looking for my boyfriend. I hear you found him in this river.”
Reggie paused in checking his line and finally turned to focus on Monty. “I did find a young man in the river. I took him to the hospital.”
Monty’s eyes narrowed, obviously not believing him. He didn’t hesitate to share his view, either. “That’s not what I heard,” Monty stated. “I heard you were letting him stay with you and asking questions about him. His name is Miguel Swanson,” he continued.
Nodding, Reggie tucked his rod under his arm and finally turned to give Monty the attention he obviously wanted. “Yes, son. I did have a Miguel with me for a couple of days. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, so I called an old doctor buddy of mine.” He grinned and shifted his stance, as if settling in to have a long chat with an old friend. “I have a spare room and he was mostly just sleeping, so I didn’t have a problem with that.”
Reggie scoffed and shook his head.
“Then a couple of days ago the young fool decided to ignore the doc’s orders and did something called, uh...” Reggie paused, furrowing his brows. “Free running! That was it. Never heard of such a damn fool thing. Running and jumping and swinging from trees.” He lifted his free hand and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, maybe when I was a young boy, but not as an adult. No time for such silliness. Work to do. Responsibilities to my wife and kids. I have three children,” Reggie prattled on. “All grown now. Why, my oldest is an electrician, just like I was. Followed in his old man’s footsteps, as it were. Couldn’t be more proud.”
“Yeah, great,” Monty cut in. “What about Miguel?” he asked, clearly sounding impatient. “Where is he? Where is my boyfriend?”
“Oh, I took Miguel to the hospital.” Reggie frowned. “I’m sure I said that. After he disobeyed the doc and he passed out in the middle of the woods, I couldn’t trust him, so I took him to Burbank Memorial.” He shook his head again. “I didn’t have any way of knowing if he’d injured himself further, so I didn’t want to risk it.”
Monty uncrossed his arms and rested his fists on his hips. “Where is Burbank Memorial?”
Reggie pointed toward the west and gave him directions into town. Monty grumbled something low under his breath and started back toward his car, not even bothering to thank Reggie. A moment later, Miguel heard the sound of a car starting, then tires crunching on gravel.
Miguel watched as Reggie returned to fly-fishing.
After the rumble of the vehicle disappeared, Miguel lowered himself until he dangled from the branch. He paused a moment, assessing the ground below him. Once he was certain where he wanted to place his feet, he dropped.
Landing lightly, Miguel straightened. He jogged through the trees, then paused at the edge of the river where the trees stopped. Reggie immediately spotted him and headed toward him.
“I’m assuming that guy doesn’t always act like that,” Reggie muttered, his expression concerned. He peered toward the driveway as if expecting him to show back up. “I guess everyone has their bad days.”
“His have lasted way too long,” Miguel admitted. “I won’t make excuses for him.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t even make excuses for myself. I was just a dumbass who fell for his lines and his lies.”
“We all make mistakes,” Reggie reassured him. “Now, who is this Otto that you were worried might be with him?”
“When Monty wants someone to do something they don’t want to do, he sends Otto to, uh, persuade them,” Miguel explained. “I have no idea how it started or why... maybe they were just bullies who banded together in grade school. Who the hell knows?”
Reggie reached up from where he stood in the edge of the stream. He gripped Miguel’s shoulder, rubbing his collar bone. “Well, now you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” With a smug grin, he stated, “You chose me.”
Miguel gave a sly smile of his own. “Yep, and it’s the best decision I’m made in a long time.” Then, he sobered as he whispered, “I just wish I knew what happened to Dee.”
“Dee should have told us where you went to hide, Miguel,” stated a thin, reedy voice from behind Miguel. A voice that he knew all-too-well. “Such loyalty. Too bad it proved to be her own downfall.”
Slowly, Miguel turned, although he knew who he’d find standing behind him. “What are you doing here, Otto?” he asked coldly, even though he could guess.
“Monty doesn’t like it when his boyfriend tries to walk away,” Otto growled. “He’s the one who decides when a relationship is done... and you’re not done. Dee should have known that.”
A cold horror crept through Miguel as he put two and two together. “You killed Dee,” he accused. “Why?”
“She wouldn’t tell me where you were,” Otto replied, not even trying to deny it. Technically, it wasn’t a confirmation, either.
“I didn’t tell Dee where I was going,” Miguel whispered. “She didn’t know.”
“Huh,” Otto grunted. “So she was telling the truth.” The whipcord-lean male grinned broadly, showing off uneven top teeth. “Well, at least you were dumb enough to use your credit card at that tube rental place.”
Miguel gaped. “You can track my credit cards?” he whispered. “How?”
“That’s not your concern,” Otto claimed. He held out his hand. “Now, let’s go. Monty is on his way back, and you need to be ready and waiting.”
Straightening his back, Miguel shook his head. “No.”
Otto’s brows lowered as his eyes narrowed. “No?”
“That’s right,” Miguel responded. “No. I’m not going with you. I’m not dating Monty anymore.”
Curling his lip, Otto snarled, “You don’t get to make that choice.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small pistol.
Miguel instinctively took a step backward... and nearly fell on his ass when his foot didn’t land where he thought it should. Instead, it landed several inches lower and at an angle. Flinging his arms wide, he
struggled to catch his balance as his ankle twisted and his knee buckled.
A strong, thick arm wrapped around Miguel’s waist. He grabbed onto it as he stumbled. Seconds later, his sneaker-clad feet sank into the water as he caught his balance. Miguel found himself almost knee deep in the river, held up mostly by his grip on Reggie.
“Out of the water,” Otto ordered. “Let’s go!”
Miguel eyed the gun warily. Would Otto really shoot him? He didn’t think so, but since the guy had all but admitted to having murdered his best friend, he wasn’t so sure. Looking toward Reggie, he wondered what he should do.
“I don’t have all day,” Otto snarled. “I might not be allowed to hurt you, but I’d be more than happy to shoot your new friend.” He swung his gun upward a bit, pointing over Miguel’s head. “How about it?”
Seeing the way Otto’s grin turned cruel, Miguel knew the man was just itching to do just that.
“No,” Miguel whispered. He glanced up at Reggie, seeing his lover’s look of warning. Giving the older man a small smile, he turned back to face Otto and eased from Reggie’s grip. “No. I’m coming. Just let me get my footing. The current is strong.”
Miguel slowly eased forward, away from Reggie. Making his way out of the water, one tentative step at a time, he glared at the man he was quickly coming to hate. Miguel had never considered himself a violent person, but in that moment, he so wanted to knock the smirk off of Otto’s face.
Chapter Thirteen
Reggie clenched his free hand, fighting the urge to grab Miguel and yank him behind him. In his other hand, he still gripped his fly rod. Uncertainty, not a feeling he was familiar with, filled him.
As Reggie watched, the skinny, sallow-skinned man grabbed Miguel’s upper arm. He probably used the excuse of helping him to squeeze his arm, for Miguel grunted. A second later, his young lover wrenched his arm free.
Glaring at Otto, Miguel snapped, “I’m coming, asshole. Keep your mitts off!”
Otto lifted his hand as if to hit Miguel.
Reggie reacted. Flipping his fly rod up, he fed the line with his other hand. With a practiced flick and swish, he sent the hook sailing.
As the yellow and red fly flew through the air, Otto turned, probably drawn by Reggie’s movement. He saw the asshole swing his gun toward him again. Before Otto’s arm completed the arc, he saw his fly hit the man’s neck.
Yanking the pole up, Reggie set the small hook as deeply into Otto’s flesh as he could.
Otto screamed. He wrenched backward, which only succeeded in tearing his skin more. Freezing, he lifted a trembling hand to his neck. It came away wet and spotted red with the blood that was slowly dribbling down his neck.
“You bastard,” Otto snarled. The hand holding his gun shook as he once again brought it up. “I’m going to make you pay so bad for that. I’m gonna make you bleed.”
“No, you won’t!” Miguel cried.
Swinging a broken tree branch, Miguel hit Otto’s head with a resounding crack. Otto stumbled. Miguel swung again. This time, he landed the blow to the back of Otto’s shoulders and the other man went down.
“Kick the gun away from him,” Reggie urged as he charged toward the river bank as fast as wearing waders would allow. “Kick it toward the river.”
Miguel did as Reggie urged. He stomped on Otto’s hand, forcing him to release the weapon. One more swift move of his feet sent the gun skittering down the bank and into the water.
Otto leaped to his feet and lunged at Miguel, screaming obscenities. Miguel stumbled backward. Still brandishing his branch, he kept some space between them.
Reggie stumbled out of the river just in time to grab Otto from behind. He wrapped the man in a headlock and stretched to his full height, arching his back. That put Otto on his toes, and yet still he thrashed and bucked like a wild animal.
“Go to sleep, Otto,” Reggie growled, tightening his hold.
From the shade of the man’s face, he knew he was cutting off the man’s air supply. He’d have felt bad, except the man had attempted to kidnap his lover. Plus, he’d threatened to shoot him.
Not a great way to make friends.
Ignoring Otto’s continued albeit weakening struggles, Reggie looked toward Miguel. “Are you okay, Mig?”
“Yeah,” Miguel whispered. “I’m okay... but what are we going to do with him now?”
As Miguel asked the question, Otto finally stopped struggling. He sagged against Reggie, his body going limp. Reggie slowly eased his grip in increments, carefully monitoring how Otto fell.
Reggie had never seen people fake unconsciousness before, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Not with a psychopath like this one. Once Otto lay spread across the ground, Reggie leaned down and checked his pulse.
Strong and steady.
Keeping part of his attention on Otto, Reggie took a couple of steps away from him. He looked toward Miguel and held out his hand, palm up. Miguel immediately took it, and Reggie reeled him in.
Miguel sagged against his side. Reggie took comfort in the fact that he again held his lover in his arms. Even better, he knew that Miguel was safe and happy to be there.
Now, though, he had to do something with Otto.
Reggie pressed a quick kiss to Miguel’s temple. Then, he eased his hold and released him. “I left my pole on the bank,” he rumbled. “Grab it for me, will ya? I’ll carry this yahoo to the cabin and find some rope.”
“Having a big, strong significant other does have its perks,” Miguel teased quietly.
His lover’s smile warmed Reggie, helping to ease the cold chill seeing that gun pointed at them had caused. “Oh, yeah?” he teased. Bending down, he rolled Otto over, then wrapped his arms around his torso. Tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he straightened. “What would that be?”
After picking up Reggie’s discarded pole, Miguel gave him a saucy grin as he winked and said, “Well, when Otto wakes up, I’m sure he will appreciate the fact that you’re carrying him. Otherwise, he’d have one hell of a headache caused by me dragging his thick skull over all these rocks.”
Reggie snorted. “Yes, I’ll be sure to point that perk out to Otto as soon as he wakes up.”
Listening to Miguel laugh, Reggie headed through the trees and up the slope toward the cabin. He glanced over his shoulder and verified that Miguel wasn’t far behind him. Upon seeing him just a few steps behind, and seeing Miguel give him another wink, Reggie found himself relaxing a little.
Yeah. Guns in the hands of assholes totally sucks.
Once Reggie made it to the cabin, he waited while Miguel set his pole down, then opened the door. He resisted the urge to drop Otto to the sunroom’s floor. Instead, he eased him onto a patio chair.
“Where’s the rope?”
Turning upon hearing Miguel’s question, Reggie saw the way his young lover shifted his weight from foot to foot. He had his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze flicked from him to the still unconscious Otto and back again.
Reggie reached out and cupped the back of Miguel’s neck. He gently urged him close and wrapped his arms around him. Giving his lover a reassuring hug, he hummed in appreciation, liking his lover in his arms so very much. Still, he noted the slight tremble in the lean body he held.
“Are you okay?” Reggie whispered. “Truly okay?”
“I am,” Miguel murmured. “I truly am. I just want to go get the rope because I don’t want to watch Otto,” he admitted. “He’s stronger than I am. Meaner. More aggressive. If he woke up, I don’t think I could stop him from getting away.” Then, he lifted his head and stared Reggie in the eye. “And he killed my best friend. I know it. I’m afraid if I’m alone with him, I’ll dump him out of that chair and kick him over and over until he’s in so much pain he doesn’t know which way is up.”
Sliding a hand around to cup Miguel’s jaw, Reggie rumbled, “There are several coils of rope in the shed where I keep the fishing poles. When my grandkids come up, they bring float tub
es. I attach them to trees at the bank so they can float in the river without going far.” As he spoke, he gently massaged Miguel’s nape, hoping to soothe his lover. “They’re under the left side of the workbench that runs the length of the back wall.”
“I’ll get it,” Miguel responded, easing out of Reggie’s hold. “Be right back.”
Reggie let Miguel go. Once his lover rushed out the door, he eased into another chair. He pulled out his phone, realizing he’d missed a text. Pulling it up, he saw it was from Carl... I’m on my way.
Relief flooded him. Soon, the detective would be there. If anyone could straighten out this shit-storm, it would be Carl. Ideally, he wouldn’t have Jake still with him, but he probably wasn’t that lucky. He didn’t want the detective’s son anywhere near these problems, but sometimes life came at you fast.
My whirlwind entanglement with Miguel certainly attests to that.
Reggie called Carl, figuring it’d be wise to give the detective a heads up.
“Carl’s phone. He’s driving.”
Not recognizing the voice, Reggie responded, “This is Reggie Herrera. Who is this?”
“This is Detective Ryan Straton,” the voice told him. “I was on my way toward you anyway, following a lead. We crossed paths and met up.” Ryan paused, and Reggie heard someone else talking in the background. After a moment, Ryan continued, “Carl says you had an unexpected visitor. Is he still there?”
“Actually, no, but he’s supposed to be on his way back,” Reggie replied. “I have another guy in my, uh, well, custody.”
There was a long pause from the other end of the phone. “You wouldn’t happen to be referring to Otto, would you?” Ryan finally asked. “I was following a trail of witnesses who put him traveling with Monty... in your direction. I have a couple of questions for him.”
Scoffing, Reggie responded, “Then today is your lucky day. I do indeed have Otto sitting unconscious in my patio chair.”
Break-Away Strength Page 11