by Cari Z.
“What was that?”
“Just a little morphine. It should keep the pain down for now, but I’ll write you a prescription for some Percocet to help manage your pain over the next few days.”
Morphine. Of course they’d give him morphine. Elliot had abused morphine to the point where it had reduced effectiveness these days, but he’d still get some side effects: a touch of dry mouth and upset stomach as well as the beautiful dreaminess that had always helped him to forget his fuckups. That made it even harder to stay clean of it.
And Percocet on top of that? “I’d rather stick with aspirin.”
“Tylenol might be better. I’d rather you didn’t take anything that thins your blood, just in case. You’ll start coming down from this shot before too long, and I think you’ll want something stronger than over-the-counter drugs anyway.” He wrote the prescription and held it out toward Elliot, who couldn’t quite make himself take it as he absorbed this unwelcome information.
After a moment the doctor simply tucked the prescription into Elliot’s coat pocket, probably chalking up his sudden slowness to the concussion. “Have you thought of someone who can keep an eye on you for a few days?”
Elliot made himself nod. “I guess I have.” He retrieved his phone and wiggled it. “Can I call from this room?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll let you go as soon as they get here, then.”
“Great.” Elliot waited for the doctor to leave, then reached into his pocket, pulled out the prescription, and dropped it into the trash can before gingerly lying down on the hard exam bed. Being on his back felt better than trying to stay upright, given the way his head still ached despite the drugs.
Elliot forced his eyes open, turned on his phone, and stared at his contacts list. Fuck. He was going to do it, he had to. He couldn’t do this alone, not if he was going to get through the next few days without falling back on old, bad habits. Not for the first time, he wished he’d followed his program’s advice and hooked up with a mentor to help him handle the rough patches that came with dealing with his addiction. Elliot hadn’t trusted anyone enough to rely on them back then, though.
You don’t have to share all the details, he reminded himself. The nature of the threat, the gravity of theft he’d been accused of―that could stay private. He hit Send and hoped that Lennox wouldn’t refuse his call.
Partial transcription of most recent appointment with West, Lennox, Staff Sergeant US Army Rangers (R), January 28, 3:15 p.m.:
JS: What decision did you make?
LW: The decision to fire.
(Long pause.)
JS: Why did you have to make this decision?
LW: Because I was in charge.
JS: I meant to say, what were the circumstances that led you to have to make a decision to fire?
LW: Ah. My squad, we were running a patrol near Ripley. We were spread across four vehicles. It should have been routine, but we ended up taking heavy fire from enemy units and got separated. The tracker that let us see who was where had been damaged. It was dark out, it was snowing . . . we couldn’t get visual confirmation of who was shooting at us. My gunner detected movement and asked if he should fire. We were still taking shots, so . . . I said yes. Turned out it was a friendly unit. We wounded two of our fellow soldiers. They later died.
JS: I see.
LW: No, you don’t.
“You look like hell.”
Lennox winced almost as soon as the words slipped from his mouth. As greetings went, he could have done a lot better. Especially since the last time he’d seen Elliot, he’d figured it really would be, well, the last time. He certainly hadn’t expected to get a call as he was leaving the boxing gym, less than an hour ago. When he’d seen whose name popped up, he’d actually done a double take.
The conversation had been brief, mostly because Lennox had cut things short as soon as he’d heard that Elliot was in the hospital. He’d agreed to come and pick him up, take him home, and hear him out. He was still in his sweats from the gym when he got to the hospital, but he felt positively fastidious next to Elliot, who had on a thin cotton hospital gown; the see-through plastic bag next to him had his ruined clothes in it. Now Lennox understood why Elliot had asked him to bring any spare clothes he had on hand.
“I promise you, I feel just as good as I look,” Elliot replied with a thin smile. Thin with pain, Lennox saw, not with anger. He held himself gingerly on the end of the table, one hand pressed lightly to his chest. His hair was a mess of dried blood, and midway up one of his shins he had a nasty purple bruise almost the size of a dollar bill.
Lennox dropped his gym bag and came over to the bed. He carefully framed Elliot’s face with his hands. “What’s the damage?”
“Mild concussion. Mild,” Elliot repeated with a little snort. “Like the other concussion flavors are medium and extra spicy. I’ve also got some bumps and bruises, my chest hurts where my seat belt caught me, and I cut my head. So no showers for a few days. Which is bad,” he added, “since I’ve got to be on camera for work.”
“Work might have to wait,” Lennox said. He didn’t realize he was still holding Elliot’s face until the man leaned into his palm with a heavy sigh.
“Thanks for coming,” he murmured. Lennox’s heart twisted.
“I told you I would if you needed me.”
Elliot shrugged. “Yeah, but I bet you didn’t think I’d take you up on it so fast, did you?”
“No,” Lennox admitted.
“It’s because you already know,” Elliot said drowsily. “You know, and you’re better at this stuff than I am. It won’t surprise you.”
“What won’t surprise me?”
“That someone tried to kill me.” Lennox barely had time to register his stomach dropping before Elliot went on, his words tripping over themselves in his haste to get them out. “Or scare me, I guess. They said they weren’t trying to kill me, but I think it was just luck. I couldn’t make my brakes work. I had to drive my car into the mountain.” Actual tears welled up in Elliot’s eyes. “I broke her. She was new and beautiful and perfect, and I broke her so I wouldn’t hit the car in front of me.”
“Oookay,” Lennox said, forcing himself to stay calm. Freaking out right now wouldn’t help anyone. “They’ve got you on some good meds, huh?” Elliot probably had no idea what he was saying.
“Just a little morphine. Which is bad,” he added. “Because I shouldn’t have it. I used to want it all the time and then I finally forgot how it felt to want it like that, and it felt so good to forget. But now I remember and I hate that I do. It makes me want to do stupid things. I think it’s making me a little loopy too,” he confessed.
Addict. Rehab. Shit. “I bet it is,” Lennox said gently.
“The tow company wants to know where to haul my car, but I can’t let them get rid of it because I have to know how it was hacked. The voice on the phone took my brakes away.” Elliot glared at Lennox indignantly. “Do you know how important those are?”
“Pretty important.” Lennox glanced around for Elliot’s shoes. Lennox hadn’t brought another pair, they were screwed if— Ah. Different bag.
“Really fucking important,” Elliot agreed. “Can we take my car to your place? Your work? So someone can figure out how it was hacked?” He covered one of Lennox’s hands with his own, holding on too tight to be comfortable for either of them. “I know I sound like I don’t make any sense but it’s true, I swear. I got a call and I couldn’t tell who it was, and they threatened me and took my brakes and I had to crash my car to stop it in time. I have to know how they did it! It’s driving me crazy, Lennox, please.”
Lennox wished he wasn’t inclined to take Elliot so seriously, but . . . the snake. He hadn’t imagined that, or the fallout from it. “I’ll tell them to drop the car at Castillion’s lot,” Lennox promised. And boy, would he have groveling to do tomorrow when Rodney found out.
On the other hand, Kevin would literally kill for the chance to root aro
und in a Porsche, even a destroyed one. He was their auto-security-systems expert; Castillion didn’t sell car alarms, but some people liked their cars to be linked to their home systems on Castillion’s app. Kevin would figure it out. If it turned out to be nothing, great. If it didn’t . . .
“Thank you,” Elliot said sincerely. “You’re far too nice for me.”
“I’d say you’re far too pretty for me, but right now I’d be lying.”
“Ooh, mean.”
“I know I am; I hear it all the time from Lee. Come on, let’s get you into actual clothes.” Which, in this case, were the ones Lennox had worn to the gym. They fit Elliot pretty well, although the way the denim stretched across Elliot’s ass was almost impossible to look away from.
Elliot carefully tilted his head and sniffed at his shoulder. “These smell like you.”
Nothing Lennox could do about that now. “Yeah, sorry.”
“I like it.”
“Well, you’re kind of a strange guy,” Lennox drawled, earning a glare from Elliot. “Good thing I like strange,” he added. “Let me get your socks and shoes on and we can go.”
“I can do it.”
“Not without bending over,” Lennox pointed out. “And then your head will hurt even more.”
“You and your stupid . . . logic. Fine.” Elliot sat back and waved a hand at his bare feet. “Be my ballet.”
Lennox pursed his lips as he knelt, fighting to keep the smile in. “I think you’re thinking of a different word.”
“Probably.” Elliot didn’t seem overly concerned.
Lennox got the socks onto him, lingering a little over his toes before he covered them up. They were surprisingly cute. “Do you get pedicures?”
“I love pedicures,” Elliot confided. “They make my feet feel amazing. The hypermasculine posing that says that pedicures can’t be for guys? It’s bullshit.”
“You can spit out ‘hypermasculine’ on a whim but you can’t remember the word ‘valet.’” Lennox put Elliot’s shoes on him and straightened up. Elliot grinned broadly at him.
“That’s the word! Ha, I didn’t need to remember it, because you remembered it for me.”
“I guess I did.” Lennox helped ease Elliot off the table and into his coat, then grabbed his sealed bag of clothes. “Come on, let’s go spring you.”
Elliot stayed close to Lennox all through his discharge, actually touching him for most of it, leaning into his side whenever they stopped walking. Lennox worried he was getting dizzy, but he seemed to be moving fine, he just . . . wanted to be close, for some reason.
By the time they got out to the truck it was dark, and the slush on the pavement had refrozen into solid ice. Lennox helped Elliot into the truck, then got into the driver’s seat. The vehicle started with a purr.
“Fuel pump,” Elliot said sleepily. “I knew it.”
“You were right.”
“The way I sent you away yesterday was wrong. I didn’t handle the snake thing well, but I didn’t want you to know how freaked out I was. I should be able to deal with my own messes.”
Lennox sighed as he pulled out into the street. “It’s not the worst morning-after I’ve ever had.”
“How many others have included dead wildlife?”
“None,” Lennox admitted, “but one involved a very sharp knife, so at least nobody tried to stab me this time around.”
Elliot chuckled. “Was that Gaby?”
“No, thank god. We wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did if she was that kind of crazy. Are we going to your place?” He’d actually prefer to, but― “My apartment’s not as far.”
“Hmm . . . no, I have to get back and take care of Holly,” Elliot said. “She’s probably made a mess, and she’ll be hungry, and worried.”
“That’s fine. Your place is fine.” Lennox kept his speed low; his tires weren’t the best, and the last thing Elliot needed was to get into another accident. The other man was fading fast. Lennox would be lucky to get him into bed before he fell asleep.
Lennox left his headlights on when they got back to illuminate the stairs to the porch, then slid an arm around Elliot’s waist and helped him climb them. Fortunately his wallet, phone, and keys had been put in his coat pockets; it was easy to fish out his key ring and open the door. Holly danced around their feet as they entered, barking madly for a few seconds before she darted into the night.
“She can’t go alone,” Elliot mumbled. “Something might eat her.”
“I’ll get her in a second,” Lennox promised as he typed in the security system’s code. The blinking red light turned solid green. “Do you think you can get to your bedroom on your own?”
Elliot blinked at him owlishly, then straightened up with a grimace. “Sure. Just let me pick a bannister.”
“There’s only the one.”
“It looks like there’s two.” Elliot successfully grabbed it, though, and started to make his way up the wooden stairs. Lennox watched long enough to be sure he wasn’t going to fall over, then grabbed his flashlight and headed outside again. He killed his car’s headlights, slammed the car door shut, and almost tripped over Holly, who had apparently finished her bathroom break and had decided to roll around until she was whiter than a snowball.
“You’re ridiculous,” Lennox said to her, shivering a little as a gust of wind blew ice crystals down the neck of his jacket. “You ready to go inside, then?” Are you expecting her to answer? he thought to himself as he headed for the porch. Holly followed.
A few minutes with a kitchen towel cleaned the worst of the snow off. Lennox topped off her food bowl and toed off his own shoes by the door before going to make sure Elliot was okay.
To Lennox’s surprise, Elliot wasn’t only still awake, he was standing in the bathroom, half-naked and inspecting the massive bruise on his chest left by the seat belt. “It seems like something in there should be broken,” he mused as Lennox joined him, Holly at his heels. “Nothing is, though. It doesn’t even feel that bad, but it’s definitely not pretty, is it?”
“Good thing nobody’s going to be able to see it,” Lennox said.
“Except for me. And you.”
Lennox shrugged. “I don’t care. I’ve seen worse.”
Elliot turned his reflection’s tired gaze to Lennox’s face. “I care, though.”
Lennox couldn’t help himself. He set a gentle hand on the back of Elliot’s neck and kissed the point of his shoulder. “Care tomorrow. You should be sleeping now.”
“You believe me, don’t you?” Elliot covered his hand and didn’t look away. “You believe that someone sabotaged my car?”
“Kevin will tell us what’s going on,” Lennox promised.
“But you believe me.”
He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, I do.”
“Thank you. For that, and for coming and getting me, and for . . . helping.” Elliot smiled crookedly. “Like you said you would.”
“You’re welcome.”
Adrenaline, even when it stemmed from someone else’s trauma and not his own, was more than enough to fuel Lennox through getting Elliot home and dealing with the cleanup that came next. He’d talked with the tow company and Elliot’s insurance, texted Serena to not expect Elliot the next morning, then he called his own workplace and talked to Kevin.
Kevin Cooper was, in some ways, Castillion’s best employee. He was an MIT graduate, a brilliant programmer, and could do any aspect of the job almost perfectly, whether it was dealing with customers or installing software updates. He lived on site—he was Rodney’s nephew and he liked the rent there, which was dirt cheap—and covered the phones when no one else was around. He was eager to help, naturally friendly, and everyone liked him. Even Lennox, when he could get the kid to shut up. Kevin was almost impossible to shut up when he got going, and he had certainly been going about the Porsche.
“A Panamera, that’s awesome! Do you know what those retail for in Germany? Your friend must be sick loaded, man. Is h
e there? Can I ask him about the—”
“He’s asleep,” Lenox broke in. “You can ask him questions tomorrow once he’s awake, and only if they pertain to the car.”
“Sure, but this is the guy who knows the mayor, right? He’s friends with the mayor, isn’t he? I thought I read that on his website. Can he get me an introduction? I want to talk to him about—”
“Kevin. Tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure. Tomorrow. I’ll check it out first thing.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No, dude, I appreciate it,” Kevin exclaimed. “Do you know how boring it’s been here lately? I haven’t had to connect anyone to the cops all week, there haven’t been any emergencies, and there aren’t any trade shows to get ready for. It’s so dull.”
Lennox pressed his thumb to the spot between his eyes that always seemed to ache when he talked to Kevin. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“God, you sound like Uncle Rodney,” Kevin moaned. “Oh hey, there’s the truck—I’ve got to go direct them to the pad out back, I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”
“Thanks, Kevin.”
That phone call went brilliantly compared with how the next one would probably go. Tonight had been Sunday dinner at Gaby’s house and Lennox should have been there for it. Gaby had left two messages on his phone while he was taking care of Elliot, and by the time he called back he could have set fires off the sparks that suffused her voice.
“What the hell, Lennox?” she demanded. “Where have you been? Your daughter was expecting you to be at dinner tonight.”
“Gaby—”
“You can’t do this, Lennox, you can’t refuse to even try to be a part of her life! Eventually it’s going to get to the point where we don’t want to bother accommodating your issues anymore. Do you understand me?”
“I’ve got a good reason, Gaby,” he insisted.
“Oh yeah?” She couldn’t have crammed another ounce of disbelief into those words. “Does this reason have anything to do with the fancy black car you showed up in the other night? Or more specifically, it’s owner?” Is she psychic? “Because if you skipped out on dinner to get some tail, so help me God—”