Restoration 01 - Getting It Right

by A. M. Arthur

  “Love is love,” Mom said. “I’ve always worried about you being alone. I used to pray for God to send you a good woman to settle you down and make you happy. I suppose I’ve been asking for the wrong kind all along.”

  “Nah, God sent me James a long time ago, Mom. It just took us both a lot of years to finally see it.”

  “I admit, it’s going to take some getting used to, especially for the rest of the family.”

  “They’ll follow your lead.” Nate turned to face his dad, who’d been quiet for too long.

  “Dad?”

  Dad pinned him with the intense, dark-eyed gaze of the Wolf family. “Can’t say as I understand it very well.”

  “I’m not asking you to understand or accept it right away. All I ask is that you trust me when I say this is what I want.”

  “Being with a man?”

  “Being with James, Dad. He makes me feel safe again.”

  He didn’t reply, only turned and walked back down the beach. Nate watched him go, unsettled by the quiet departure. No one had yelled or condemned him, so that was a plus. But his father had walked away.

  “I think this surprises him more than me,” Mom said. She tugged him into the kind of full-bodied hug only mothers could master, seemingly everywhere at once, trying to protect him from the world. “You’re very lucky to have found someone, you know. Man or woman, all I want is you to be with someone who will take care of you.”

  “We try to take care of each other.” He wasn’t doing the best job of it this weekend. First the fight, and then leaving the city entirely on a wave of jealousy that had probably sent James into a drunken stupor last night.

  No. James’s drinking problem wasn’t his fault. James chose to get drunk.

  I didn’t exactly stick around to make sure he didn’t.

  “I’m going home in a little while,” Nate said. Even after leaving southern Delaware for the city, he’d thought of his parent’s house as home. Today he knew, for the first time, that home was with James.

  “Going back to him?”

  “Yes. This trip wasn’t exactly planned.”

  “Of course, sweetheart. May I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “How are your nightmares?”

  His heart tripped. “Better when he’s with me. I’m seeing a very good therapist. I feel like I’m making progress.”

  “Good.” She shifted her free hand to his chest, right over his heart. “Now that this is settled—” she touched his temple, “—perhaps this will find its way too.”

  “I hope so.”

  They hugged again before beginning the long trek back to the car. Nate left a bit of anxiety behind on the surf that day. He’d come out to his parents. Soon he would tell the guys at the station. He didn’t know if he was gay, bisexual or if it really mattered. Love didn’t need a label.

  All he knew was that he loved James, and he couldn’t wait to get home and tell him so.

  It’s been a long time coming, babe. A long damned time.

  Monday morning came too slowly for Nate’s taste. He’d spent part of the night staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. After his phone call to James asking for a face-to-face had ended in James begging off, Nate was restless. Granted, James had sounded like shit warmed over, so the excuse of being sick didn’t feel like a lie. Nate couldn’t tell if it was legit sick or a hangover, so he didn’t fight.

  They did agree to a late dinner at Nate’s place that night, after his appointment with Dr.

  Sands.

  The department’s attempt to lure their serial rapist out of hiding over the weekend ended up a bust. After an early meeting in Danvers’s office, they all agreed to keep Pfieffer undercover for a while longer—mostly because of Carey’s bullheaded persistence. Pfieffer was game. Most of his daylight time was spent lazing around a cheap rented room, and then hanging out with legit streetwalkers at night. Surveillance was light in the daytime because Pfieffer had nowhere to go except to the corner store for food or drinks, so it wouldn’t tax the department too much.

  It was a gamble they were all willing to take.

  The lack of progress hung over Carey like a thundercloud, and by lunchtime, Nate couldn’t stand it anymore. He dragged Carey down the block to a local deli for lunch. Nate had always preferred patronizing locally owned restaurants, rather than tossing his cash to chains.

  The girl behind the counter knew them both by name, and all Carey had to say was “the usual.”

  Nate took his time deciding, trying not to wonder if all of the other patrons were staring at his scars, and eventually settled on an Italian sub with all the fixings, including their house specialty—pickled red onions. He’d just brush his teeth before James came over.

  “Level with me, will you?” Nate asked once they’d found a booth near the back.

  “About what?” Carey picked at his roast beef and rye as though it had offended him in some way.

  “We’ve worked cases before. Hell, we’ve worked murders and rapes before, but I get the feeling you’re taking this personally. More personally than me, even, and that’s saying something.”

  “Maybe I am a little. So what?”

  “So what nothing right now, until it starts clouding your judgment. Then it’s a problem.”

  Nate leaned forward. “Is it a problem?”

  Carey took a big bite out of his sandwich.

  Stubborn old mule. “Don’t make me ask around with the senior officers who might know something. Because then they’ll all start whispering like old hens with juicy gossip.”

  That got Carey’s attention. He put the sandwich down, then took a sip of his fountain soda. “They’d tell you some things all right, but it might not really be the way it was. Truth gets stretched out after a while.”

  “So tell me why this case means so much to you.”

  “Because I have a son I haven’t seen in five years who’d be about the age of all of these victims, and every time I go to a scene involving a young white male I wonder if it’s him.”

  Sympathy tore at Nate’s heart, but he couldn’t make himself say the words. Guys like Carey didn’t want pity when they were upset. They wanted to get it off their chest and go about their business. “I can’t imagine that kind of anxiety.”

  “It’s fucking hell, I can tell you that.”

  “Why haven’t you seen him in five years?”

  Carey picked up a paper napkin and began to shred it. “Between us?”

  “Of course.”

  “Up until then, I was an alcoholic. A mean one too. I did my job fine, sure, but at home I was a bastard to my wife and kid. When my wife died, it got worse.” He exhaled long and hard.

  “My boy went out with some friends one night to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. Some asshole patrolman decided they were all rent boys and picked them up for prostitution. Hauled all four of them in, including my kid.”

  “Shit.”

  “I was already halfway in the bottle when I got the call. I remember being so angry at him and so fucking embarrassed, even though he swore up and down they were just walking downtown. Walking while gay.”

  Uh-oh.

  Carey glared at a spot on the table. “I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to believe him, and I said some pretty hurtful things. Told him I wouldn’t have a queer under my roof. And I hit him.”

  Nate’s gut rolled at the admission of violence. He’d know Carey for four years, and he’d never suspected him to be a violent man, drunk or sober.

  “Next morning he was gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. He just vanished. I went on the wagon and I’ve been sober ever since.”

  “That really sucks, Wally.” Nate didn’t know what else to say. Good on you for being sober, pal? No.

  “It’s irrational, I guess, to assume that he ended up on the streets, but I don’t know. It’s not knowing where he landed, or if he’s even alive, that eats at me.”

  “Have you ever hired a private investiga
tor?”

  “A few times. No credit cards, no rental agreements, nothing under his Social Security number. For a while I put up missing persons posters, but I never got a lead. I even checked around hospitals and morgues, just to be sure, because how can you go so completely off the grid unless you’re dead?”

  Nate could think of a few ways, including identity theft, but he was certain Carey had gone over and over those scenarios. “Not knowing is the worst kind of fucking torture, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I think it’s my penance for being such a bastard to him. But I’d give anything to tell him how sorry I am, and that I honestly don’t give a shit if he’s gay. I just want to see him again.”

  “Maybe you will one day.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears, my friend.” Carey resumed eating, signaling an end to this particular discussion.

  Nate dug into his own sub, enjoying the tangy toppings and the spicy meats. He’d gained two pounds since his return, and a couple of sandwiches like this a week might help pack a few more on.

  “I ran into James over the weekend,” Carey said, causing Nate to nearly choke on his mouthful. “He said you’d gone to see your folks. Everyone all right?”

  Nate swallowed, then gulped down some soda. “Yeah, I just had to tell them something that I couldn’t really say over the phone.”

  “Oh yeah? How far along is she?”

  He flung a balled-up napkin at Carey’s head. “Fuck off. Nobody’s knocked up.” Sink or swim time, kid. “I told them I’m dating James.”

  Carey’s bushy eyebrows furrowed deep, creating a thick line across his forehead. He put his sandwich down. “You’re what?”

  “Dating James. We’re together.”

  “Since when?”

  “The day I got back to town, I suppose, but we’d been building toward it for a lot of years.”

  “You and James?” Carey seemed terribly confused, and Nate would take that over anger or disgust any day. “For real? You’re queer?”

  Queer felt like a better fit than gay, because it carried an entire spectrum of sexuality other than the standard straight/gay labels. “Yes, I’m queer. I love him.”

  “Well shit.” Carey slumped back into the booth, hands folded over his slightly protruding belly. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “I think our friend Elliott’s the only one who did.”

  “Elliott’s the guy who lost his partner back in the spring, yeah?”

  “Yeah. He’s overly energetic and emotional, but he’s very perceptive.” And he had a weird knack of ending up mostly naked in James’s apartment, but Nate wasn’t launching into that particular tangent.

  Carey’s gaze shifted from the table to Nate’s face, and back again several times. Nate could almost see the wheels turning, the thoughts bouncing around and trying to find traction.

  Acceptance. “You drop this bomb on anyone else yet?” he finally asked.

  “Only you and my parents. And two of our friends, so I’m sure the rest will find out pretty soon.”

  “How about Danvers?”

  “I’ll probably tell him, but I’m not going to announce it to the whole department. There’s no point right now. Gossip will take care of it after a while, and quite frankly, it’s no one’s business who I fuck at night, so long as I do my damned job.”

  “You’re right. Can’t say as I care much, as long as you don’t stare at my ass or anything.”

  Nate chuckled. “Trust me, Wally, you aren’t my type.”

  “Yeah, sure, that’s what they all say. Good thing I didn’t spring for lunch, or people might think this was a date.”

  “You’d be so lucky.”

  The easy banter ending in laughter gave Nate hope for his future in the department. He wasn’t naive enough to hope everyone would be so understanding. He anticipated snide remarks and cruel looks. He’d been a tourist to those things frequently over the years when he was around James or his friends.

  I’m not a tourist anymore. This is my life.

  So far, so good.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  James went around the block three times before gathering up his courage to pull into Nathan’s driveway. He couldn’t get his heart to stop pounding or his hands to stop sweating. Talking to Nathan had never left him such an anxious mess, but everything in him told him that tonight was make or break time for their relationship.

  Cards on the table. No more chances.

  He killed the engine. Took his time getting out. Walked slowly to the front door, putting it off for as long as possible.

  Stop being such a wuss and get inside.

  Nathan opened the door before James could knock, his sunny smile chasing a fraction of James’s nerves away. Everything about Nathan, from his expression to his casual stance, suggested a change for the better. Whatever he’d needed to do in Oak Orchard had certainly turned the tide in their favor.

  “Hey, handsome.” Nathan greeted him with a firm kiss that left no corner of his mouth unexplored. Who gave a shit that they were giving the neighbors a show? “Come in.”

  James sniffed the air as he crossed the living room. Tomatoes and oregano.

  “I pulled a lasagna out of the freezer,” Nathan said. “It’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.”

  “Good.” James sank down onto the couch. “That gives us a chance to talk about this weekend.”

  “You want something to drink first?” Nathan turned for the kitchen, moving before James could say no. “Beer? I bought Flying Dog for you.”

  “Cola, if you have it.”

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder before he disappeared. He returned with two cans of cola and handed one to James.

  “You can give the beer to Boxer next time you see him,” James said. His mouth was dry but he didn’t sip his soda. He had to get this out before he lost his nerve. “I haven’t had a drink since our fight on Friday.”

  Nathan’s eyebrows rose. “You haven’t?”

  “No. I was an asshole to you, and I’m tired of hurting people when I drink. I’m scared that I’ll drive you away with it, and I couldn’t stand that.”

  “Our fight wasn’t all you, you know. I was being selfish, thinking about the case and getting justice for those murder victims. I didn’t take the time to think about you, or about us.

  And I know you worry about my job. Welcome to the wide world of police spouses and partners.

  It’s an honored tradition.”

  James smiled, glad Nathan had defined him that way. And intensely grateful that Nathan was being open-minded about their fight. It hadn’t been one person’s fault. “I was being selfish too. I really wanted your attention that night and mostly I felt like a burden. Something you had to get through before you could go back to what was really important.”

  “Shit, Jay.” Nathan clasped his knee, the warm touch welcome and necessary. “You are what’s most important, and I am so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

  James covered Nathan’s hand and squeezed. He called up some of what Boxer had said a few days ago. “It’s just that nothing in your life has really changed. This house, your job, our relationship. I mean, the sex part is new, yeah, but I get how it’s easy to forget that part. You need what’s familiar while you’re getting your life back together after the assault.”

  Shit, did I just totally contradict myself?

  “You’re right,” Nathan said.

  Maybe I didn’t.

  “I wasn’t being fair to you, Jay. I wasn’t treating us as anything different to the outside world, and that was leaking into our private life. That’s why I went to see my parents.”

  Curiosity and hope sent a light buzz across James’s skin. “What did you tell them?”

  “The truth about us. I came out to them.”

  That buzz became a streak of warmth and joy, and James tackled Nathan to the sofa.

  “You didn’t. How did they take it?”

  “Better than my ribs are taking it
right now.”

  “Shit, sorry.” James rose up, putting more weight on his arms than on Nate’s torso. “So?”

  “Mom was pretty good. Dad will need some time, I think, but you know my folks.”

  “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

  “I also told Wallace Carey and Lieutenant Danvers, but that’s as far as I want to go with it. It’s no one’s business.”

  “I agree.” Gratitude tightened James’s chest. He dug his arms between Nathan’s back and the couch and hugged him. Tighter than he ever had in his life, because Nathan had taken a giant step for him. For them. He’d made their relationship public and that was fucking huge.

  “And I’m really sorry about the thing with Elliott,” James said. “I didn’t think he’d answer the door in his underwear.”

  “I’m sorry too. I should have asked questions instead of running away like a coward. I did need the space to think, but I shouldn’t have taken it like that.”

  “If I do something that bothers you, tell me. I want us to work these things out together.”

  “I promise. And the same with you and drinking. You aren’t alone anymore, Jay. You never were.”

  “Promise.” James just hoped he could live up to that promise.

  Nathan’s hands smoothed up and down his back. Warm lips pressed into James’s neck, which sent happy signals right to his cock. His groin was pressed against Nathan’s thigh and he didn’t miss that Nathan was getting hard too. It had been five days and that was too damned long.

  “Need you,” Nathan whispered, hot breath tickling his ear.

  “Yeah.” James wanted more than a quick rub-off on the couch. He wanted skin. Hands and legs and bellies and cocks, and he wanted it all on display for him. He wanted to worship Nathan tonight.

  “I’m going to turn the oven off. Be naked in my bed by the time I get up there.”

  The order sent a bolt of arousal through James’s belly. He disentangled himself from Nathan and bolted for the stairs, shedding clothes as he went. His cock was hard against his belly by the time he was there, tossing back the bedcovers. He knelt in the center of the bed and stroked his cock lightly, enjoying the gentle friction, stomach knotting with anticipation.