by K. Sterling
“You want your usual, Wal?” Tony asked and Wal opened his mouth to say yes then caught a tilting of Marco’s lips as he sat forward and stirred his coffee.
“No. I think I’d like to try something different,” Wal said and Marco’s brows rose as he looked up.
“Want a menu?” Tony asked and Marco looked panicked.
“Jesus, no!” He whispered as his eyes swung to Wal’s. “We’ll be here all day!” He said and Wal stretched his neck as it tightened and swallowed the knot in his throat. Whyyyyy? Why, why, why, why, why? Wal screamed at himself then shook his head. He visualized the menu and picked the thing below his usual egg white omelet minus the peppers and onions.
“Can I try the Greek omelet?” He asked and Marco looked shocked and impressed.
“With egg whites, though?” Tony asked as he poured Wal’s coffee. Wal relaxed and nodded.
“Please,” he said as he reached for the sugar and ignored Marco’s chuckle as he shook out two packets.
“Look at you! Trying new things!” Marco said and Tony snorted.
“Spinach. He’s trying spinach. That’s the only difference. Mushrooms, tomatoes and spinach,” he explained as he walked away then paused. “And feta,” he warned as he looked over his shoulder and Wal shook his head quickly. “So, just spinach,” Tony stated and Marco smothered a snorting giggle as he raised his mug.
“Baby steps. I’m waiting for the steak and eggs. I’m moving up for the next fight so I’m getting fat first,” he said and Wal nodded in approval as he sipped his coffee. Marco was tall with broad shoulders, narrow hips and a naturally lean frame. He’d become good at harshly restricting his diet and dehydrating himself so he could shed pounds and Wal disliked the way it made him look gaunt and a bit frail. If it were up to Wal, Marco would keep his “holiday body”. He liked when Marco took time off from training and matches and ate whatever he wanted. He looked a little softer and happier. Not that Wal wouldn’t appreciate Marco’s body in any shape, any way he could get it.
“I like you better when you’re fat,” he said simply and Marco rolled his eyes.
“I want to fight Conner Rooney but he’s got at least eight pounds on me,” he said and Wal frowned.
“Couldn’t you find someone else to fight?” He asked. Eight pounds was a lot, for boxers.
“Of course but it’s about the challenge,” Marco said and Wal raised a shoulder.
“If you say so,” he murmured as he stared at Marco’s chin. He hadn’t shaved and Wal yearned to rub his cheek against it. Wal’s face still stung from his razor and it would burn, as he rubbed it all over Marco’s jaw. He shut his eyes and pushed the image away as his body became hot and tight.
“I won, by the way,” Marco said and Wal smiled slightly as he opened his eyes.
“Congratulations,” he replied as he raised his cup in salute. “And your face looks exactly the same as yesterday. Well done,” he added then took a drink and Marco winked then looked down when his phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at it long enough to see who’d sent the text and his nose wrinkled. Wal raised a brow at him and Marco’s hand flailed vaguely.
“Remember the cute nerd from last week?” He said and Wal ducked his head slightly.
“I think so…” He murmured. Approximately 6’1’’ and 165 pounds, athletic build, probably a swimmer, expensive haircut, Jewish, dry skin on hands and arms but manicured fingernails so possibly a medical professional, drives a restored Jaguar. Tad.
“Tad,” Marco said then opened his mouth to say something then shook his head. “No. Never mind,” he said and reached for another cup of creamer and Wal relaxed. He didn’t want to know anything else about Tad. Marco tapped at the foil top of the creamer for a moment then pushed out a hard breath. “He’s a doctor and we had a great time last week,” Marco said softly and Wal looked out the window as pain rippled through his chest and into his stomach before it clenched. “Mom would love him,” he said and Wal felt helpless and sick. He wanted to leave or scream. Or both.
“Good,” Wal said then cleared his throat when his voice came out gravelly and thin.
“Here we go, gentlemen,” Tony said briskly as he delivered their plates. They were silent as Wal’s whole grain toast was pushed in front of him and Tony set down Marco’s hash browns. “Here’s your Greek omelet,” he announced and Wal blinked down at it. He was starving when he left his apartment but between Jones and Tad, Wal’s appetite disintegrated. “Anything else?” Tony asked and Wal shook his head.
“We’re set,” Marco said brightly and watched as Tony went to greet another customer. “We had a really great time last weekend and he’s been attentive and adorable but…nothing,” he told Wal as he unscrewed the cap on the ketchup then poured it over his hash browns, determined to revel in the calories and sodium, apparently.
“What do you want me to say?” Wal asked and slowly filled his lungs then slowly breathed out as he kept himself very still. He prodded a piece of spinach delicately, as it protruded from his omelet. He was afraid to do anything else, he didn’t want to upset something or lose control in any way. Marco stared at him for several moments but Wal kept his eyes on his fork and concentrated on making his chest rise and fall at a normal rate.
“You don’t have to say anything, Wal,” Marco said gently as he doused his steak and eggs in hot sauce. “Do you want to say something?” He asked and Wal threw him a tortured look and Marco laughed softly. “Of course you don’t,” he said then began cutting into his steak. Wal wanted desperately to say something but there was nothing he could have liked less than the idea of actually saying it. It felt like his teeth were welded shut and his clothes were made of lead, he was paralyzed and he felt so heavy with dread. What if I tell him and it breaks us? I can’t lose him completely. “I just…” Marco continued as he pushed his fork into a bite of steak and really bore down on it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want to find the right guy and get a real place and maybe get a few dogs. I hate that I’m probably leading Tad on but what if I’m just not giving him enough of a chance? Maybe I need to grow up and stop expecting to feel a spark on the first date or the first time we kiss,” he said and Wal pictured Marco kissing Tad and pushed his plate away as his stomach churned. “Is it the spinach, or this?” Marco asked. Wal wanted the jacket back but he focused on the clock over Marco’s shoulder and breathed through the hard ache in his chest. Everything he wanted to say stayed heavy, and on the bottom, buried beneath layers of fear and doubt as Marco watched him carefully.
“Both, I think,” Wal said and his hands shook as he set them in his lap. If there were laws and procedures for these things, he could have coped but he felt lost and anxious about what might come next, if he expressed how much he hated the idea of any other man touching Marco and how badly he wanted him back. “I’m not that hungry and I don’t know what to say but I want you to be happy,” he said weakly. And it was so pathetically weak and disappointing, he was glad he’d said it on an empty stomach. Instead of saying “All I want is to make you happy.” or “All that matters to me is your happiness.” Wal offered Marco the blandest, most neutral of pleasantries. The faintest hint of a feeling. Wal was so close. Just a few extra words and a little more honesty but he choked. Marco’s brows pulled together and he looked confused and disappointed as well, as he searched Wal’s face.
“You want me to be happy?” He parroted and Wal flinched before he nodded and Marco exhaled loudly. “Just eat your omelet so we can get to work,” he said as he went back to his food. Wal nodded again and decided it was safer if he kept his teeth and lips busy chewing so he shoveled bite after bite into his mouth until his plate was clean. “How was your omelet?” Marco asked after they paid at the counter then pulled on his jacket as they stepped out.
“Fine,” Wal said. He had no idea, he’d barely tasted it. But he had a feeling he would have enjoyed his usual egg white omelet better and that he should have left everything alone. He should have kept quiet and j
ust ate his boring, predictable omelet.
“Come on, Wal. Just forget I mentioned it,” Marco said as he unlocked the shop door and Wal raised a shoulder.
“Fine,” he said again as he passed him and Marco stopped by his office and shrugged out of his coat then made a thoughtful sound as he raised it to his nose.
“It smells like you now,” he stated before he tossed it at his chair and Wal stopped.
“I’m sorry. I carried it up to my place with my things without paying attention and kept forgetting to bring it to you,” he said quickly and Marco smiled as he gave him a gentle shove.
“It’s not like you to forget but it’s not a big deal. Relax,” he said and Wal tried to smile like he was relaxed then frowned.
“How can it smell like me? I don’t wear anything,” he murmured and Marco shrugged as he rested his hip against Wal’s car.
“You don’t but you’ve definitely got a smell,” he stated and Wal’s frown grew.
“Do you want me to get the jacket cleaned?” Wal asked as he cocked his thumb over his shoulder and Marco shook his head quickly.
“No way,” he said then tilted toward Wal. “I’ve always liked the way you smell,” he whispered. Wal opened his mouth to tell Marco he loved the way he smelled more and stopped before he could embarrass himself.
“Thank you,” he said as his ears began to burn. “I still don’t know what I could possibly smell like,” he muttered as he turned away and leaned to check out the headlight area. All the damaged metal was stripped away and Marco had welded in the repairs.
“Hmmm…” Marco swayed closer and Wal froze as he felt him press against his back and heard him inhale deeply. “It’s a combination of everything. Your soap, shampoo and aftershave. And you always smell like mint. And starch. Even if you’re dressed like this, you still smell like starch,” he explained and Wal decided that all sounded fine together but not exactly exciting.
“Ok,” he said faintly as he held still. He wanted time to stop and for Marco to stay there. He shut his eyes and wished Marco’s hand would slide around his waist and his chin would brush against his jaw. Wal’s eyes watered as his heart begged him to lean back and pull Marco’s arm around him. What would he do? Wal wondered then jerked as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and his brows fell as he swiped at the screen. “What’s going on, Cathy?” He asked the desk sergeant.
“Hey, Wal. I know you’re off but I thought you’d want to know, since it’s your neighborhood. They found Donnie Wexler,” she said and Wal’s lips pursed as his eyes focused beyond the wall.
“What do you mean they found Donnie?” He asked and she hissed.
“In the park with a bullet to the back of the head,” she said and Wal swore.
“An execution?”
“It looks like that,” she said and he turned to Marco to apologize but he gestured frantically for Wal to go ahead. Wal waved as he headed for the door then spun back to Marco.
“Raincheck on this?” He asked as he pointed at the car and Marco flung his hand at the door.
“We’ll have plenty of time to fuck around with your car. Go on,” he insisted and Wal saluted him with the phone before he turned and reached for the door.
“Send me the location and let them know I’m headed their way,” Wal said as he stepped out of the shop. He ended the call and swore again as he hurried to the truck. He had a feeling he was moments away from doing something that would leave him wishing for an escape but this was not how he wanted it. “I’m so, so sorry about your luck, Donnie.”
Chapter 6
“This is going to hurt tomorrow,” Marco said under his breath as he rotated his shoulder then winced as he eased on his coat and shut his locker. The old boxing gym had only two gross showers so Marco was in his usual hurry to get home and out of his gym clothes as he pulled his backpack’s strap over his shoulder.
“Hey, Marco!” Curtis said as he stopped on his way to his locker.
“How’s it going?” Marco asked as he patted him on the back and Curtis’ lips cocked up at the corner as he gave him a drowsy grin.
“Can’t complain. I was watching while you were at the bag, you looked really good,” he said and Marco smiled as he rested against a locker.
“Thanks, Joe pointed out this weird thing I was doing with my shoulder on every fourth throw and I’ve been working on it,” Marco explained and Curtis shook his head before he looked around then stepped closer.
“No. I mean you looked good. Not that you don’t always look good,” he said as he pressed his hand to the locker next to Marco. Oh, Marco thought as his brows jumped. He had no idea Curtis was into men and Marco regretted not knowing that a lot sooner. Curtis was a few inches taller and a good bit larger than Marco and looked like he was carved from stone. Every inch of him was hard and smooth and Marco spent a lot of time watching Curtis out of the corner of his eye. He had dark skin and massive hands and Marco thought he had the sexiest laugh. It would carry around the gym and Marco’s lips couldn’t help but curve.
“Your timing is really terrible, Curtis,” Marco complained as he traced between Curtis’ pecs, through his damp white t-shirt. Curtis groaned as he stepped even closer and lowered his head until their lips nearly brushed.
“Don’t tell me that! I’ve been waiting for a chance to ask you out but it’s usually too crowded and you take off before I can catch you. Let’s go out for drinks later,” he urged and Marco winced as he let his head fall back against the locker, giving them a little more space.
“I would be so down for that, if you would have asked me a few weeks ago. I just started seeing someone and honestly, I’m still getting over my ex,” he admitted and Curtis pouted as his head craned forward. Marco clicked his teeth scoldingly as he pressed against Curtis’ chest. If Marco wasn’t giving Tad a chance, he probably would have allowed it but Curtis was on the verge of pushing too hard. “I’m not sure if I should be dating one guy right now but I’m definitely not dating two. Give me a little time and I’ll get back to you if things don’t work out with the guy I’m seeing right now,” Marco said and Curtis sighed.
“I can respect that and I think it’s really sexy, that you’re so honest,” he said and Marco shrugged.
“My track record hasn’t been good lately. I haven’t been a prince but I’ve done my best to be honest and upfront,” he stated and Curtis slid him a sheepish cringe as he bit his lip.
“We can date later, once things blow over with this other guy,” he said as his hand curved around Marco’s waist. “How about we run over to my place real quick? No strings and you can call me whenever,” he offered then licked his lips as he stretched toward Marco’s. “It’s just a block up the street,” he whispered as he tried to cradle Marco’s jaw but he tilted his head away. Spell definitely broken, Marco thought but paused when his eyes dropped to the massive bulge in the front of Curtis’ tight joggers. Dude. Your hog! Marco silently exclaimed then blinked hard and shook his head. Not even for a dick like that, he told himself. Curtis was really hot but Marco wasn’t wasting his time on any guy who’d pressure him into cheating.
“That’s really tempting but I’m going to have to pass for now,” Marco said then gave Curtis’ chest a pat so he’d step back. Curtis whimpered loudly but he let Marco step around him.
“You looked really good, Marco,” he said again and Marco smiled over his shoulder as he headed out of the locker room. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he called after him and Marco waved but rolled his eyes as he made his way out and along the wall, avoiding eye contact with anyone else who might try to stop him. He was in even worse need of a shower, after his chat with Curtis.
Chapter 7
“Hey, you’re up early, Wal,” a young officer said as he raised the crime scene tape for Wal and he ducked his head. He glanced at his badge and offered him a faint, encouraging smile.
“We’re going to release the scene and let you get out of here soon, Johnson,” he said th
en turned his attention to the Y in the trail and the blood and evidence markers scattered on the leaves, tree trunk and rocks. Donnie was found face-down, hands tied and shot in the back of the head. The body was in the morgue but Wal could see it on the ground and the yellow markers jumped and floated in the air as he put the scene back together. His hand reached as he saw the shoe the crime scene techs removed the evening before. It wasn’t Donnie’s. It came off his left foot but Donnie always wore expensive Nikes. The older black loafers didn’t work with his track suit, Wal suspected. Someone took his shoes, Wal thought and looked to where the body had lain. They found Donnie’s wallet in his pocket and there was $280 in cash but his watch and however many chains he was wearing were taken. Donnie wore more jewelry than Mr. T but whatever he was wearing probably wasn’t worth as much as his wallet but the killer or killers didn’t take it. It was staged to look like it but robbery wasn’t the motive. Wal’s phone vibrated and Donnie’s body was gone and the markers dropped as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Walden,” he said absently as he scanned for anything else that didn’t fit.
“Hey, Jack,” Bill said and Wal focused.
“Sir,” he said as he slid his other hand into his pocket and squinted at the mile marker up ahead.
“You want to get over to Wexler’s apartment,” he said and Wal turned and started striding back up the path, toward the crime scene tape.
“What did they find?” He asked and Bill hissed.
“You’re not going to like it,” he said and Wal quietly thanked Johnson as he got the tape for him.
“What did they find?” He repeated impatiently.
“Ciara Cole’s purse, phone and some of her clothes,” Bill said and Wal was practically running.
“Are they sure?” He asked as he pulled the truck’s keys from his pocket.