by K. Sterling
Everything was different with Marco and Wal was truly happy until it all slipped through his fingers. Wal felt like a better man with Marco and finally able to be himself but it was overwhelming and paralyzing at times, being with someone that good and being that happy. Wal wanted more and he wanted everything but he’d get so scared of messing up and pushing Marco too fast, he’d panic and withdraw until his raw, over-reacting nerves could recover. He pushed too hard with work, unfortunately. He wanted to prove to himself that he was good enough for Marco by being the ultimate hero. He wanted to impress Marco but he also wanted him to be proud of Wal and not embarrassed or ashamed for dating a robot and a freak. Instead, Marco believed Wal didn’t like being his boyfriend and didn’t care. Wal lost Marco and it was like he’d fallen someplace dark and cold and he couldn’t find the sun. There wasn’t a moment Wal didn’t yearn to feel Marco’s skin against his or taste his lips and his breath. He longed for the brightness and the warmth he felt every time their bodies connected. He had no life without Marco. There was no sun. It took years of crawling and scraping and Wal was finally home again. He fought like hell and risked his life to save Marco. He wasn’t going to blow it this time and he wasn’t going to let anyone take Marco away from him.
Wal knew what his life was like without Marco and for a few seconds, he knew what the world was like without him. It was cold and hurt and Wal was never going back. I’ve seen that Yankees cap before… He thought as his focus tightened and he returned to the moments before the shop filled with smoke and fire. He strained toward it with his mind. If he could just turn it over and get a closer look…
“Son of a…” Wal complained as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Are you sleeping?” Marco slurred as his arm tightened around Wal before his head flopped away and a soft snore burst from his throat.
“Maybe later,” Wal whispered as his lips trailed along Marco’s jaw before he carefully pulled away and slid from beneath the covers. Wal slipped on his boxers then went to the kitchen for water. He grabbed two bottles from the fridge then found the meds Marco would need when he woke up. He sipped his water and leaned against the door as he watched Marco sleep and his gut told him the hat was the key. He might have lost it in the fire but his brain wouldn’t let it go. He didn’t understand how, but Wal could feel that the attack was related to Ciara Cole’s disappearance and Donnie’s death. It was all so murky and distorted as the threads became twisted in Wal’s mind but the hat tugged at his instincts. He swore under his breath and Marco frowned as his cheek rubbed against his pillow. Wal didn’t want the darkness of his thoughts disturbing Marco so he took one last, long look then went to ponder them as he got caught up on the box of comics in the spare room.
Chapter 14
“Well…that didn’t last long,” Marco chuckled as he raised his head and looked at the pillow next to him. It was cool as his hand spread across it and his lips twisted as his neck stretched before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his head as the room swung around him and he waited for his vision to settle then smiled at the bedside table. Pills and a bottle of water waited. Marco took the pills then scanned for something to wear before he waved dismissively and headed into the hall. He didn’t want to wear the scrubs from the hospital and he planned to be in bed with Wal again soon. He found him in the spare room, sitting on the floor, glancing inside comic books before putting them in protective sleeves. “Hey,” Marco said and Wal’s head snapped up. His eyes were wide and huge with love and awe and Marco felt a little dizzy again.
“Hey,” Wal said. His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “I had too much on my mind and I didn’t want to disturb you,” he explained and Marco made a knowing sound as he pushed away from the door. He crouched next to Wal and took the book from his hands before he could slide it into the sleeve.
“Why do you do this? Why do you keep collecting these if you aren’t going to read them?” He asked and Wal became very still as his eyes went to the clear bins.
“I had a grandfather for a while,” he whispered and Marco nodded.
“I know, he died when you were almost four,” he said and Wal reached into the box next to him and pulled out another comic book. He opened it and his head tilted as he checked a page before he closed it and took a plastic sleeve from the pile in front of his folded legs.
“I don’t know anything about my mother, beyond what I read in her records, and I can’t remember anything about her. But I have memories of my grandfather. My earliest memories are of him and he was the only person who was really kind or cared about me, until Bill,” Wal said and Marco whispered his name as he sank next to him and kissed his shoulder. Wal kissed his hair and rubbed his cheek against it. “My grandfather liked to go to the track and he’d take me along with him. He always stopped and bought me a pack of gum and a comic book, to keep me entertained. I didn’t really understand the comics but they kept my attention for the afternoon,” he explained and Marco smiled.
“Did he pick any particular ones for you? Like Archie or Spiderman?” He asked and Wal shook his head.
“I don’t think so. I think he picked whichever one had the most exciting looking cover,” he said then took a deep, steadying breath. “We were at the track and a race was about to begin and my grandfather gave me a comic book and told me to pray for Time For Dubai. I got to the fourth page and something about a woman in one of the frames caught my eye and I asked my grandfather if she was my mother.” He stopped and took another reinforcing breath and Marco forced his lungs to pull in air, he’d been holding his breath and was getting lightheaded again. “My grandfather looked at the picture and his eyes filled with tears and he said she looked just like my mama. So much like her, it took his breath away, he said. The race started and my grandfather jumped to his feet to cheer for Time For Dubai and then he froze and his eyes rolled before he dropped to the ground,” he said and Marco groaned.
“Oh, no,” he said and he felt Wal nod.
“He had a stroke and hit his head and there was nothing they could do to save him. Everything happened so fast after that. I didn’t get to go home for my things or say goodbye to any of our neighbors. I was taken to a group home and spent the night in a large room with four sets of bunk beds and six other scared boys. None of us said a word to each other or smiled the entire night,” he said and Marco cried as he held on tight to Wal’s arm. “All I had was the clothes on my back and I lost the comic book. I never got past the fourth page and I can’t remember the title or the main character. I have to find it because I want to know what my mother’s face looked like. She was nineteen when she died and there just wasn’t much on her. I couldn’t find her in any school pictures or yearbooks. But I can remember everything about that one page, aside from the woman’s face,” Wal stated and Marco pressed his hand against his chest as his heart burned and ached.
“You’ve been looking for your mother, in all these comic books, for all these years?” He said and Wal nodded.
“It’s the only way I’ll ever know. And I’d like to finish the book,” he added and Marco’s cheeks puffed out as he waited for the sob tugging at his throat to pass.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I gave you such a hard time about these,” he said, once his voice worked and Wal raised a shoulder.
“I knew you were teasing me but I never knew how or when to tell you, or why you’d really want to know all of it,” he explained and Marco leaned so he could look at him like he’d lost his mind.
“I thought you were a hoarder and had OCD. I would have understood and helped you if I knew this was about your mother,” he said then caught Wal’s chin so he could trap his eyes. “I want you to let me in and I want you to trust me. Don’t keep these things to yourself. Tell me everything, because I want to know,” Marco urged him.
“I’m afraid of making you mad and that I won’t be good enough,” Wal confided and Marco’s head pulled back.
“Why are you afraid of maki
ng me mad? It’s really hard to do but I don’t really blow up or take it out on anyone,” he said and Wal shook his head quickly.
“I know, you’re always happy and laughing,” he said then became absorbed in the book in his hands. “The problem kids were always sent away and nobody ever picked the loud kids. I learned that if I just kept quiet, people left me alone and they never got mad at me. And I also learned to watch everyone and keep my guard up. Nobody ever picked me for anything but nobody got mad at me or hurt me as long as I kept my mouth shut and didn’t complain,” Wal said and Marco gasped as his eyes stretched beyond the wall.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed as every one of Wal’s quirks, hang-ups and restraint was explained. “You’re afraid I’ll send you away,” he said and Wal nodded.
“Always.”
“I’m never letting you go, Wal,” Marco vowed as he reached for him. He captured Wal’s face then kissed him hard enough to make him believe it.
Chapter 15
It didn’t feel real. Wal was disoriented as he stood in the wreckage of Marco’s shop. It had only been thirty-six hours since the attack but the crime scene was released and the case was nothing more than a bin of evidence in storage and a file on Bill’s desk. The place was still hot and the smoke hadn’t cleared but Wal was able to walk into the shop and snoop around because it was abandoned. And there was nothing in the evidence bin. The photos were incomplete, several areas in the shop weren’t referenced and the techs’ reports were brief and inconclusive.
“They’re handling this like it’s a suicide attempt,” Wal sighed as he lowered and poked at the ashes and charred fragments of paper around Marco’s desk with his pen. He could smell accelerant fumes and squinted toward the storage room. Marco was careful about where he kept fuel and the toxic solvents he worked with. He worked in the bay and kept it well ventilated when he was doing anything involving fumes. He was too careful to open something noxious in his office and near an open flame. Marco didn’t even carry a lighter or keep one in his office, as far as Wal knew. There was no explanation Wal could fathom for Marco to set fire to his office other than arson or suicide. Marco didn’t commit either.
Wal searched for the Yankees cap but it was gone. His stomach sank as he wondered how much evidence was overlooked and who could have come through the crime scene afterwards. Wal became more disoriented as he hunted for anything else that looked out of place or didn’t make sense. Nothing looked out of place. The shop looked just like it was supposed to as Wal put each room back together in his mind. He unmelted lamps and replaced the pictures as his eyes swept around each room and everything was in place but it all felt wrong and upside down. Wal knew it was too perfect. The scene was tampered with so ham-handedly, it felt like a parody, and Wal didn’t understand how it was happening and how he was the only one noticing it. They didn’t bother to collect what was left of the hose. Wal felt a tickle of fury because no one stopped to consider how a common garden hose came to be taped to the end of an exhaust pipe when Marco had every type of hose but garden hoses in his garage. And Marco would have chosen one of the vacuum hoses because they would have been a much more effective fit. The killer used packing tape to seal the hose to the exhaust pipe. Marco had three types of duct tape between him and the office. If he even had packing tape. Wal shook his head and the investigation settled heavily on his shoulders and they tightened as he climbed the stairs to Marco’s apartment. The fire destroyed most of the firehouse on the opposite side of the structure and Wal was relieved to discover that much of Marco’s apartment was still intact. It wasn’t safe but they’d be able to save most of his things. The shop was a total loss but Marco could still put his home back together.
“I’ll ask if he wants to move it all to my place,” Wal decided as he eased into Marco’s bedroom to get to his closet. There was a lot of heat damage to the other half of the room and the outer wall on that side was almost completely destroyed. He found a duffle bag and quickly stuffed it with as much of Marco’s underwear, t-shirts and jeans as he could then jammed four pairs of his sneakers into a backpack. Wal spotted Marco’s personal safe by the closet door and rolled his eyes. It was still locked. The techs never even opened it. He was able to get it out with the backpack and duffle bag in one trip and called Bill on his way home. “Someone needs to get their ass chewed to shreds over the way the shop was handled,” he growled and Bill made a weary, heavy sound as he stalled.
“You can rip my ass to shreds over it. I don’t think Marco needs that kind of trouble right now and there’s no point in exposing his personal business. Digging in his underwear drawer and looking at whatever he’s hiding under his bed won’t help him. I’ve got to figure out what I’m supposed to do if I have a citizen who may have set fire to a structure on a crowded city block. At the moment, I’m just fucking grateful no one’s dead, Jack,” Bill explained and Wal’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as his frustration and anxiety made his eyes water.
“Marco has nothing to hide and he didn’t try to kill himself. I’ll stake my whole career on it, Bill, and it feels like I’m going to have to, to prove it,” he said and he could hear Bill frowning.
“Jack… It makes absolutely zero sense that anyone would attack Marco and just at a glance, the evidence only supports one explanation. If I dig, we’ve gotta charge someone and neither of us will like it,” he warned and Wal parked the truck then groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“We’re supposed to let the evidence tell us who’s guilty. I’m telling you this wasn’t a suicide and that crime scene’s fucked. I’ve got a soup sandwich on my hands now and I don’t know how I’m going to find any answers. I’ve got nothing to work with,” he complained.
“I’m sorry,” Bill said. “All I can do is pray neither of us are right because we both lose here, Jack. Take a little time and let your head clear and talk to me in a few days,” he suggested and Wal’s nostrils flared as he stared toward his apartment. He appreciated Bill’s concern but his misguided efforts to help Marco were both in violation of a mountain of laws and throttling Wal’s investigation.
“I’m going to go. I’m home,” he said flatly and Bill sighed again.
“I’m sorry, kid. I did what I thought was best for Marco and for you. This would have been a different story if someone got hurt,” he added and Wal’s eyes hardened.
“Marco got hurt,” he replied. I got hurt.
“I know it seems like…” Bill began but Wal cut him off.
“I’m going to go, Bill,” Wal stated then ended the call. Bill would get over it and Wal would find a way to convince him to take the case seriously. “This is really fucked, Bill,” he muttered under his breath as he looped the duffle bag and backpack’s straps over his shoulders then hugged the small safe so he could lift it. He shuffled into the building and into the elevators and his lips curved into a small but relaxed smile as he reached his door. Marco was cooking. It smelled wonderful and Marco was cooking in Wal’s apartment. He was nervous and overjoyed as he juggled the safe and turned the handle then pushed the door open with the duffle bag.
“You’re hoooome.Oh,myGod!Isthatmystuff?” Marco asked as he rushed at Wal. He attacked with his lips and Wal chuckled softly as he tried to kiss him back but Marco’s hands and lips were everywhere. “How?” Marco demanded but Wal shook his head.
“I don’t want to talk about it but we’ll get everything washed and we can move all your stuff heeeeeere,” Wal stopped and everything became slow as his eyes slid down Marco’s body. Just a black lace jock strap. “Where did you get that? And…” His eyes drifted around the kitchen and living room and there was color and candles and music. Marco slid in front of him and he looked wary as he searched Wal’s face for a reaction.
“Mrs. Kiminski helped me. Well, everyone in the building helped me. Is this ok?” He asked quickly and Wal’s brows pulled together as he looked at him.
“Everyone helped you?” He asked and Marco offered him a coc
ky grin.
“Word got out that we were back together and apparently, everyone’s missed me around here and they’ve all been really worried about you. I was having coffee with Mrs. K this morning and mentioned my plans to warm this place up for us. She turned up at lunch time with soup and boxes of all kinds of amazing stuff! She asked a few people if they had anything they wanted to get rid of and then they asked a few people and ta-dah!” Marco said as he waved around them then raised his brows at Wal. “But are you ok?” He asked and Wal nodded despite the sting in his eyes and the tingle in his nose. There were posters and paintings and a bowl for their keys and speakers…
“I’m ok. This is really nice,” he said then swallowed the knot in his throat.
“You said we can move all my stuff heeeeeere?” Marco repeated cheekily as he gave Wal an expectant look and he raised a shoulder.
“I want to live with you and your apartment is fucked now,” he stated and Marco’s nose scrunched.