by Andrew Grey
“Take him home and watch out for him,” Bull said gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Elliott shook his head. “You don’t even know what my stepfather is capable of.”
Bull stopped and turned around. “Elliott, your stepfather has no idea what I’m capable of, and I think he’s the one who should be worried.” He turned away and left the floor.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I could use something to eat and then a soft bed for a few hours.” Salvatore did his best to stifle the threatening yawn, but failed. It was nearly three in the morning, and the summer sun would be rising soon enough.
“Yeah, I’m hungry too,” Elliott said, getting to his feet.
Salvatore took care of the chairs, and then he and Elliott left the club by the back door. “Where’s your car?”
“I walked,” Elliott explained. Salvatore figured it was one additional way that Elliott could stay off the grid. If he didn’t have a car, he didn’t have to register it with the state.
“That one’s mine.” Salvatore pointed. He was pretty proud of his dark red Mustang convertible. He had gotten it used just a year ago. The previous owner had worked from home, so they didn’t drive it very much and it was in pristine condition. He unlocked the doors, and Elliott slid into the passenger seat. For a second, Salvatore watched Elliott, a little envious of the leather as it cradled Elliott. He got in and pressed the starter button, and the car roared to life. Normally on a warm night like this, he would put the top down and let the wind blow through his hair. But tonight he left it up and turned on the air-conditioning, pulled out of the staff parking area, and headed north down Third Street toward home.
“Why are you doing this?” Elliott asked. “You have to want something.”
Salvatore gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Not everyone is like your stepfather or the people he associates with. Most people are like me and Bull, who will help others because it’s the right thing to do.”
“How long have you known Bull?”
“Oh, maybe eight years or so. He and I were in a unit together some time ago. Bull got out, and I stayed in for a while after that. Then I wanted out too.” Salvatore knew he was being cryptic, but it wasn’t like he could just explain all the things he’d been involved in, so it was better to be vague. “I asked Bull for a job, and he hired me because some of his security guys hadn’t been doing their jobs, and I can see now that he was right.”
“Will the guys get fired for letting that booze in?”
“That I don’t know, but Bull knows who it was and he’ll be talking to them. Meanwhile, starting tomorrow, I’ll be out on the front doors, and I intend to watch out for guys like that and anyone you tell me I should look for.” Salvatore pulled up to a light and checked the rearview mirror. There was no one behind him, and he hadn’t seen another car. Once the light changed, he continued through and made the turn onto his wide, quiet residential street.
The ranch home had been built in the sixties, and Salvatore had so many plans for it. The house had a great layout, but was incredibly dated. At least he’d had a chance to work on the outside. He pulled into the garage and closed the overhead door, then locked it while Elliott got out of the car.
He opened the house, and they went inside, where he turned on the lights. Elliott looked a little shell-shocked, not that Salvatore could blame him. “This isn’t my idea of decorating. I bought the house and haven’t had a chance to change much.”
“But the seashell wallpaper is so you,” Elliott quipped.
“Yeah, I know. I was thinking of doing the entire house around it.” Salvatore broke into laughter, and Elliott relaxed. He had been wound tightly for a while, and it was good to see him let loose a little. “I’m planning to clear this entire section of the house and open it all up into a huge great room with a dining area, kitchen, and plenty of living space. But that’s going to take some time.” He set his things on the counter and opened the refrigerator. “I have some pasta I can reheat.”
“That would be nice,” Elliott said, sitting at the table.
Salvatore got out two bowls, portioned out the food, and stuck the first bowl in the microwave. “Do you want a beer?” he asked, turning to Elliott, who seemed to be doing his best to make himself seem as small and inconspicuous as possible. Shit, what in the hell had this family of his done to him? Salvatore got out two Coronas and put them on the table, along with some leftover salad from the refrigerator. It was probably a carb overload, but after a long day, he was hungry. When the microwave dinged, he put the bowl in front of Elliott and got him utensils. “No one is going to yell at you or come at you. Just relax.” He lightly touched Elliot’s shoulder.
Elliott nodded, and some of the tension left his shoulders, but not all of it by far. Still, he ate slowly as Salvatore heated up his bowl. “This is really good.”
“My mom taught me how to make the sauce. She makes some of the best and gave me her secrets.” He leaned against the counter, opening the beer and taking a swig. God, that felt good going down. It had been too long since he’d had something cold.
“Does she live here?” Elliott asked just above a whisper.
“Philadelphia. That’s where I was raised, and she lives in the same house I grew up in. I thought of settling there, but I needed to make a life of my own.” He got his bowl from the microwave. “My dad died when I was a kid, and Mom raised me alone. When I was a teenager, she lost her job. She started working in restaurants to make ends meet and discovered her real passion. Now she has a small restaurant that has a waiting list three months long.” Salvatore was so proud of her. “After I got out of the Navy and then finished the private operational work, she wanted me to go work for her. Food is her passion, not mine.”
“It doesn’t taste like it,” Elliott said between bites.
“Thank you. But it’s true. I can cook, but it isn’t my passion.” Salvatore finished off his pasta and took the bowl to the sink to rinse out. “I like doing security work. It’s the kind of thing I was trained for.” He still felt like a dope for not thinking to check if the guy coming for Elliott had a gun. But the idea had never occurred to him. He seemed like a relative or someone who was giving him a ride. “How about you? What’s your passion?”
“I don’t know. Pokémon cards when I was a kid. My mom used to buy them for me when she went to the store. There was a place that sold them in the same plaza, and she would bring some home for me.” Elliott smiled when he talked about his mom.
“Do you not get along with her now?” This whole thing with Elliott’s family had disturbed Salvatore to the core. His mom was his rock, a close friend, and someone he couldn’t imagine wanting to run away from.
“I get along with my mom just fine.” Elliott finished and pushed the bowl away, then drank from his bottle. “She doesn’t know about my stepfather. She thinks he’s this successful businessman who loves her and takes good care of her and her son.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know what he does and how he acts toward people who disagree with him.”
Salvatore sat back down, putting his beer on the table with a thunk. “Why is he so keen to get you to come home?”
Elliott turned away. “I can’t tell you. Standing up for me is one thing, and I’m not sure you should be doing that. But if I share stuff with you, it will make the target on your back even bigger.”
Salvatore nodded. “You saw something or heard something you shouldn’t have, and now he wants you where he can control you.” It seemed pretty simple to him. Hell, it was the plot of a million movies.
“No. That isn’t it. I….” Elliott leaned over the table. “I have a number of papers and records. I found out that he’s a crook, and I made sure that I had proof. I copied some records and ledgers, as well as tax information. Then I hid it as insurance before I left. He doesn’t know about all that stuff, but he’s scared to death that I might know something.”
“So he wants to shut you up?”
Salvatore asked, half to himself. He didn’t really need an answer. He wasn’t going to press for anything else right now. He was tired, and Elliott looked like he was going to keel over on the table at any minute. There was a good chance he might have a pretty good idea of what was happening, at least at a high level. That was plenty for now. “Why don’t I show you where the guest room is? You can clean up and try to get some rest.”
Salvatore took care of the rest of the dishes and then the empty beer bottles before leading Elliott down the hall to his guest room. It was modest, with just a bed and a dresser, but it would work, and the sheets were clean. “I’ll put out some towels and things in the bathroom across the hall. I think I have some travel-size stuff in there, and an extra toothbrush. I’ll put those out as well.”
“Thank you,” Elliott said, standing in the doorway of the guest room, appearing kind of lost. His eyes had a basset hound expression, and Salvatore wanted to somehow make it better.
“It will be okay. The house is locked up, and there’s no way anyone can know where you are right now. Do you have a phone?” he asked as a precaution.
“Yes. A burner, like I told you.” Elliott showed it to him, and Salvatore turned it over and quickly removed the battery.
“Phones ping towers, and if anyone is looking for you, they can get a general area. Granted, they would need to know the number to get to you and that isn’t likely, but better safe than sorry. Now at least that avenue is closed to them.” He flashed a half smile. “Any idea how they found you?”
Elliott shrugged. “The only way I can think of is because I called my mom on the house phone and she answered. I didn’t call her cell because I knew it could be traced, and I even blocked the number just in case. That was the only thing I did, because I didn’t want her to worry.”
“Do you think she told your stepfather?”
“Yeah. I knew she would. I didn’t tell her where I was, just that I needed to be on my own for a while and that I was safe and would contact her again soon. She tells my stepfather everything because she trusts the old bastard.”
“It’s okay. We can talk it over with Bull and Spook in the morning. Just try to get some rest. We’ll all be able to think more clearly after we have some sleep.” He left Elliott alone in the guest room while he got towels and stuff out in the bathroom for Elliott. After leaving the things he might need on the counter, Salvatore went to his own room and closed the door.
He went to his small en suite bath and turned on the water. He needed to get the smell of work and sweat off himself. When the water was hot, he slipped under the spray and washed himself quickly. His mind kept going to the fact that Elliott was in his house. A tingle of excitement ran through him, but there was no time to do anything about it. Salvatore needed to shower quickly so there would be hot water left for Elliott. So he washed fast and turned off the water, dried himself, and then wound the towel around his waist.
The house seemed very still as he returned to his bedroom. Salvatore cracked his door open to see if he heard Elliott moving around, but all he heard was the soft hum when the refrigerator kicked on. It was too quiet. He left the room to check the other bath, just as Elliott’s door opened and he stepped into the hall.
Elliott nearly ran into him, and Salvatore felt his gaze travel up him slowly. Damn, the heat in those eyes was stunning. Finally, Elliott turned away and raced to the bathroom, closing the door.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“No” came the broken reply.
“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.” Salvatore rechecked that the house was locked up and turned out the lights. He went back to his room and shut the door once again. Salvatore hadn’t intended to make him uncomfortable or to supply some kind of free show.
Salvatore hung up his towel in the bathroom and climbed into bed. But like so many times before when he was keyed up or excited, he couldn’t fall to sleep. His mind jumped from Elliott in the guest room to missions he had been on where he’d had to stay awake. Usually he could kick his military training into gear and sleep almost on command, but not tonight. He had someone in his house who was counting on him to help keep him safe, and Salvatore wasn’t going to let him down. Not that he really thought of Elliott like one of his missions, but maybe this was like that to a degree. And he’d had more than his share of losses on the battlefield, said goodbye to more than his share of friends, though even one was way too many. Still, he didn’t intend to be adding to that total any time soon.
Every creak sent his senses into overdrive, and more than once he thought he might have heard Elliott in the other room. He couldn’t have been sleeping very well either. After an additional hour, the sounds dissipated and the house grew quieter. Salvatore hoped that Elliott was asleep and resting. They had a big day tomorrow, and Elliott was going to need it.
Salvatore, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to calm his mind, and it took hours before he was able to stop worrying and wondering about Elliott and what was going on.
Chapter 3
ELLIOTT WASN’T sure what time it was when he woke, but light shone through the windows. He sat up and rubbed his eyes as everything came back to him. His stepfather had found him, and he was staying at Salvatore’s house. He shook his head and tried to figure some shit out. He had only met Salvatore last night, and here he was in his guest room, putting his trust in the guy to try to keep him safe. Not that anyone was going to be able to do that if his stepfather decided to bring his power to bear on the situation.
He should have just gone and not said anything to anyone. Now he had pulled these other people into his family mess.
“Elliott,” Salvatore said from outside the door.
“Yes?” Elliott said, pulling himself out of his thoughts.
“I made some breakfast.”
Of course he had. Salvatore was a nice man. And from what Elliott had seen last night with him just wearing a towel, a mighty fine, hunky nice man at that.
“Thank you.” He got out of the bed and pulled on the same clothes he’d been wearing the night before. Somehow, he really needed to go back to the apartment and get some things to wear, but he didn’t know if that was a good idea. Elliott doubted his stepfather had actually sent a whole bunch of people into town, so if Roderick was still in jail, it was probably safe for him to return. If he wasn’t, then his stepfather already knew what was going on and was formulating his next move.
Elliott left the bedroom and found the table set with plates and glasses of juice. The room smelled of bacon and eggs, and when the toaster popped, Salvatore put a half bagel on each plate.
“Go ahead and sit down before it gets cold. I have butter and cream cheese for the bagels, and I’ll bring the rest over.”
“Do you usually eat like this?” Elliott asked as he sat, wondering how he was going to eat the mountain of food.
“Most of the time, yeah.” Salvatore added eggs and bacon to the plate and then filled his own before putting the pans back on the stove and sitting down. “It’s breakfast, and we were up until three, active and running around. It’s almost noon and I’m hungry. Aren’t you? Where do you get all that energy from if you don’t eat?”
Elliott spread butter and cream cheese on his bagel. They were his weakness when it came to breakfast. He could eat them every day, and Salvatore had the good kind with the onion-and-garlic cream cheese. Yummy. “When is Bull expecting us?”
“A message came through an hour ago. He said he’d meet us at the club at five. Bull also said that someone would stop by the house in a few hours with a bag for you. He didn’t want you going to your place, so he sent someone.”
“To my apartment?” Elliott hated that idea. That apartment, while dinky small, was the first home of his own he’d ever had, and the thought of someone going in there, even though it was to help him, made his nerves spike again.
“It was probably Spook, and he just got you some clothes and things. It really isn’t anything to worry about. I s
wear that guy sees everything everyone does in that club. He knows what he needs to see and what he needs to forget.” Salvatore continued eating. “Go ahead and finish up.”
“But….”
“It isn’t safe for you to go—you have to know that. I can tell you’re upset, but you’re safe here. Bull also said that Roderick is still in jail. Lawyers did show up, but the police convinced a judge that he’s a flight risk, so bail was denied. And he didn’t have a license to carry concealed. Weapons charges aren’t taken lightly, especially in light of the threats that he made to a prominent business owner in the community.” Salvatore seemed pretty pleased.
“It’s likely my stepfather will just send someone else.”
“True. But now he has to go to extra effort, and in addition he has to figure out what he’s going to do with Roderick. Your stepfather is getting further and further in. He has to be deciding if he should just leave well enough alone and cut his losses.”
Elliott shook his head. “He’ll never do that. He has to get me back where he can control me. Otherwise he doesn’t know what I have on him or how I might use it. Granted, he still has one big bargaining chip: my mother. He’s never hurt her, and in his own way, I think he loves her, but who knows how far he’ll go?” Elliott ate the last of his bagel and a few bites of the eggs before munching on bacon. “It’s hard to tell with him.”
“Has he threatened her, as far as you know?”
“No. And she adores him and is totally blind to anything he does. He’s also really careful to make sure she is completely unaware of most of his activities. This isn’t like in the movies where the wives know and close their eyes to things. He keeps it from her.”
“Well, finish eating and try not to worry. You aren’t alone now. There are people who have your back.”
Elliott shrugged. “I still don’t understand why you care so much. No one else has. I even tried to tell my mother, but she thought I was crazy and had to have made a mistake.” That had been the day he knew he had to get out or he was going to end up spending the rest of his life under his stepfather’s thumb.