“Like what?”
“Nothing. Just something I saw. Out in the street, in the open.”
Aldric was the one who blushed, yet Darrell’s face heated. Even if Aldric hadn’t meant it as a rebuke, it stung. “Can we sit down?” he asked.
“I don’t think there are any seats.” Aldric turned to go look, and because Darrell was still holding his hand, he was pulled along with him.
Darrell couldn’t see any chairs and doubted there would be any. Impatient, he sank to sit against a metal row, this time bringing Aldric down with him. The floor was hard and cold to sit on and the room dim, the only light coming from somewhere overhead and out in the narrow corridor. “There’s a lot I have to say. Well, when I’ve worked it out. But I least I realize there’s a lot I have to work out, right?”
“Yes?” Aldric sounded as confused as Darrell felt. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to?” Darrell moved close enough to touch the tip of his nose to Aldric’s, and the bump of Aldric’s nose slid from his when Aldric nodded. Relieved by the knowledge that Aldric was giving him another chance, Darrell closed the gap between them, which was easy enough to do when he was already so close that he could feel Aldric’s breath on his face. The touch of his lips to Aldric’s was tender, asking, not demanding, and almost hesitant in a way that Darrell never let himself be.
The caress started out reminding Darrell of their last night together when they’d sixty-nined and he’d led and Aldric had followed. Had copied, even. But now Aldric took the lead, sweeping his tongue into Darrell’s mouth, searching the recesses. He also broke the kiss, in his own time, leaving Darrell alone.
“That was good.”
Darrell was glad the light was enough to see Aldric’s smile.
“But it’s going to take more than that. It’s going to—” Aldric broke off and clutched Darrell. “Did you hear that? Please tell me I imagined it.”
“I wish I could, babe.” Darrell pulled Aldric in tight to whisper in his ear, “But I can’t, because you didn’t.” The noise came again—from the small entrance lobby just inside the main door, Darrell estimated. He’d been half-expecting it, anyway. “Someone’s breaking in.” He stood, trying to work out what the thuds and bangs could be. The light outside in the corridor went off with a ting and small gleams of emergency lights came on. He’d seen the strips along the floor and high on the walls, and now saw the actual glow of them in here. He stumbled a little as Aldric, now on his feet too, clutched him.
“I thought this plan was stupid because it didn’t work,” Aldric whispered, “but now I know it’s stupid because it did work.”
“Here.” Darrell twisted and slid his backup gun free of his shoulder holster. “Take this. No, take it,” he urged when Aldric shook his head. “I’ve got mine.” He pulled that out too.
“It’s not that. I can’t use one.”
“You can’t—?” Darrell shook his head. “Hold the gun like this.” He curled Aldric’s fingers around the Glock. “You’ve seen one used, right?”
“They were firing them a lot in the movie we saw the other night. Well, what we saw of it…” Aldric rasped, his hands shaking as he held the weapon.
As dire as things were, Darrell had to smile at that. “Good choice then, huh? And I nearly chose mini-golf for our date. If you have to, just point and shoot. The Glock’ll do the rest.”
“Darrell.” Aldric licked his lips, and Darrell wanted to chase Aldric’s tongue with his own. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“I am, too.” The thought of Aldric going through this alone, even though he’d set it in motion, was frightening. “I wish this wasn’t happening,” he muttered. He wished instead that he had time and the tools to sort through all the stuff he’d told Aldric he needed to. There was a lot of it, and it was all twisted together, his upbringing and family beliefs casting a long shadow over everything, from his choice of career to the way he lived his life. Compartmentalized. Not living it fully.
Digging down into the past was complicated, re-evaluating the present was tough and reshaping a possible future was terrifying. Fear of the unknown was strong. At least he knew his family and his place in it. Would speaking honestly and openly to them about the kind of life he wanted mean cutting ties with them? And what about his job?
Noises at the door brought his focus to the here and now, and the clear and present danger coming at him and Aldric. “Where’s the Buckman stuff?” he mouthed to Aldric, who pointed to the long shelf running the length of the right wall. Darrell signaled to Aldric to move to the other side of the room and crouch behind a stack. If Aldric had asked why that one, he’d have explained that it was far enough from the door that whoever was coming in wouldn’t see them unless they searched the room, and close enough to the door for them to duck from row to row and make escape relatively easy.
He checked that he could see through gaps in the items and through spaces in the stacks themselves. A box had been placed against the wall not far from the end of their row, so Darrell grabbed at it to heave it in front of them for extra cover, finding it heavier than he’d expected. He wondered what it contained.
“They don’t have a key card, do they? And they don’t know the code. How will they get in?” Aldric breathed.
“They cut the power.” Darrell made sure his flashlight was ready. “Any backup that came on will be weaker, so the locks are easier to disable. Or they could have paid off the guard for entrance.”
Or wrench off the locks, he amended a second later, interpreting the noises just outside. The place must have safeguards, such as alarms that went off when any break-in was attempted, so anyone wanting in would have to work quickly—getting in, getting what they came for and getting away before any response came. Darrell wasn’t pinning his hopes on the night guard he’d seen out front.
The door slid open with a metallic screech and stopped partway. Two black-clad figures took over from the reluctant mechanism and forced it most of the way to the side, then entered. For all the crap about the curse, or haunting, or ghosts, they were definitely human and, Darrell thought, familiar. Aldric’s poke to his side confirmed that he recognized them too—and caught Darrell on a bruise the slightly shorter person had inflicted on his ribs. He gave a nod to show he understood. Were the crooks going to make this look supernatural too? Spray more pentagrams around? Smash things up?
The men paused, looking around. Darrell thought he knew why. They didn’t know where the stuff they were after was. Did they even know what it looked like? Maybe not, and the room’s shelves and units held a good amount of stuff. The taller of the two thieves said something, but not to his companion. He turned and spoke out into the corridor. Crap! How many more are in this gang? Darrell tightened his hold on his Smith & Wesson.
A third person entered the depository after the first two and stood between them, shining a flashlight along the shelves until the beam hit the items the crooks wanted. “Over there,” she directed.
She. Randa Buckman. Shit. Things fell into place like a ton of bricks. He’d felt her grieving widow act was just that and hadn’t believed in the ‘my dead husband is haunting and cursing things’ schtick. No wonder there’d been no damage to the main house, only the pool house—Randa valued the former too much to vandalize it.
Had she attempted to get the artifacts back from Intrinsic Value, that first evening, and smashed up what Aldric had been carrying in her rage before hiring these thugs? If so, she’d been the one to assault Aldric.
If Darrell was surprised, Aldric appeared to be more so. Startled, he pointed toward the figures standing a few feet away—pointed with the hand that held the gun and knocked the end of the barrel into the box Darrell had dragged in front of them. It wasn’t loud, as noises went, and not as loud as Randa’s thugs had been when forcing the door, but it was audible.
Aldric jolted backward, as if trying to get out of the way of the box, and stumbled. Before Darrell could grab him and steady
him, he dropped his gun onto the floor with a clatter that echoed. Worse, in attempting to snatch it back up again, Aldric kicked it.
“Step forward. Slowly,” one of the thugs shouted, and Aldric, decent, law-abiding Aldric, obeyed, standing and stepping out from their cover then moving forward.
“No!” Darrell cried, seeing the man draw and aim. He dived in front of Aldric and the bullet that had been meant for Aldric hit Darrell in the chest instead, sending him spinning and crashing to the floor.
“Darrell!” screamed Aldric.
Neither Aldric’s cry nor the bullet to his chest stopped Darrell firing and hitting the guy with the gun. Darrell got him in the shoulder, making him drop his weapon and scream in pain. It also took him out of the game, much like Darrell, who lay gasping on his front, one hand pressed to his torso, feeling for damage.
“Guy back there, kick his gun over here. Slowly,” ordered the second man.
Aldric obeyed once more, inching toward Darrell, his face agonized, lurching and tripping as he pushed Darrell’s gun away with one foot. Glaring at Randa, who laughed at Aldric’s clumsiness, Darrell almost missed what Aldric was doing. He was kicking Darrell’s gun away, as ordered, sure, but also placing the gun Darrell had given him under Darrell’s outstretched arm, carefully and unobtrusively. Darrell hadn’t even seen him pick it up, but there it was, a small lump of deadly metal next to his flesh.
“Kid, we’ll let the two of you go if you bring out the box,” Randa offered. “You know which one, I’m betting.”
Darrell exchanged a look with Aldric. Do it. They won’t let us out alive anyway.
Aldric raised his hands and edged around the metal stack to the shelves along the wall. He found the hexagonal box and placed it on the floor, where it stood small among much larger objects lying about, and took a few steps to the door. “Darrell, come on,” he said, looking over at him, then the trio. “What? You said we could go.”
“And you believed that?” sneered the taller goon.
“No,” Aldric replied…in the same instant that he snatched up a huge square metal statue from the floor and whacked the guy over the head with it. The thug went down hard. Darrell hoped his head would hurt like hell.
Darrell levelled his weapon at Randa and got to his feet. “Put your hands up, Mrs. Buckman.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she sputtered. “They…they made me do it! I’m innocent! I’m so glad—”
“Hands up,” Darrell snapped. “And mouth shut. You have the right to remain silent—”
Mrs. Buckman glared but raised her hands. She didn’t speak again.
“You use these before?” Darrell brandished zip ties and indicated the injured man.
Aldric shook his head. “Maybe if we’d stayed for the second movie.” He started to tremble as Darrell saw to the guy. “You were shot. I saw you fall and—”
“Bulletproof vest,” Darrell told him, hoping to comfort him somewhat but not lie. “So it didn’t penetrate through, but the site of impact hurts like a motherfucker.” Darrell moved over to Mrs. Buckman. “Hands behind your back.”
After she had complied, Darrell zip-tied her wrists, then shouted for the guard. “You okay?” he asked when the guy limped into sight.
“Fuckers hit me!” the guard answered, rubbing the back of his head.
“D’you call nine-one-one?” Darrell asked.
“Yeah,” came the guard’s reply “I’m not stupid.”
“That’s debatable,” Darrell grumbled, then looked at Mrs. Buckman. “Lady, what the fuck is so important about that goddamn puzzle box?”
“A will,” Randa spat. “Buck apparently left a will hidden, deeding the house and estate to his fucking son to say sorry for how he treated him. I found little clues hidden in the rest of his crap that let me know what he did.”
Aldric’s trembling turned into a tooth-jarring full-body shake and he heaved a few times, although he didn’t throw up. His glasses flew off with his convulsions, and Darrell caught them and put them on for him.
“Thinking about getting contacts,” Aldric mumbled.
“Don’t you dare,” Darrell warned him. “Love your sexy specs.” He hugged Aldric tight and was still holding him close when the cops arrived, with Elliot on their heels. As they stared, Darrell stroked Aldric’s neck and head, cradling him to his chest, and stared back.
Chapter Twenty
Aldric had fainted once, a few years earlier, on the high school track after being forced to sprint in the hot sun. He remembered the feeling, like a lid up on high was coming down, enclosing him in a little jar, making the sight of the track and the other kids blurry and the sound of their voices and the coach’s yelling echoey, until the top came right down, squashing him to the ground.
He remembered it vividly, because it was happening again, the room growing smaller and narrower, the slam of feet and the bark of orders becoming quieter and the air getting thinner. Before, he hadn’t been pressed tight to another man’s body like he was now, breathing in Darrell’s scent that was both familiar and arousing. It would be nice to let go into that.
No. He fought against it. He was an adult, responsible for the mess he’d made. The police would have questions to ask about the assault he’d committed. He couldn’t leave the cleaning up to Darrell. Aldric shifted and felt the cup of Darrell’s hand around the back of his neck and the press of his lips on the top of his head. When he turned around, he stared straight into two faces he knew, both of them wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Sean, Darrell’s partner, and Elliot, Aldric’s boss.
“Darrell?” Sean lowered his gun. He wasn’t in uniform but had his badge around his neck and a police armband on. “Dispatch called me when you called in. What the hell’s going on?”
“Whatever is going on, could it not be in here?” Elliot stepped forward. “I believe Aldric would benefit from fresh air.”
“He needs to answer questions and undergo medical triage,” a uniformed officer replied from the middle of the bustle.
“Both of which he can do perfectly well outside,” Elliot snapped.
Things went a little hazy on the short walk through the building, but Aldric did feel better in the fresh air, even with questions being asked of him from all sides, making him swing his head around to answer. Elliot, next to him, backed him up, stressing the plan they’d all concocted. Aldric wondered what Elliot was doing there, but the similarity of this night to the one when he’d been attacked in the alley made him suppose Elliot was notified of any trouble in his safety deposit vault.
A police jacket appeared around his shoulders and a plastic chair was found for him. Darrell didn’t get either, Aldric noticed, so he pulled him down onto the seat, as small as it was, and tucked half the jacket over one of his shoulders. That caused a silence. Everyone stopped talking and froze, the scene illuminated by the blue light of the emergency vehicles parked in the lot.
“What was I doing?” Darrell was addressing not just his partner but the group of cops, Aldric felt. “I came to back up Aldric. I realized what he was doing and wasn’t about to let him go through with this on his own.”
Aldric focused on Elliot rather than sweeping his gaze over the police officers, because the range of looks on their faces was narrow and none of them was positive.
“I should have guessed there was another step to your plan,” said Elliot. “It seems Darrell knows you better than I do.”
“That right?” Sean asked, glancing from the other officers to Darrell. “Darrell?”
“I should hope so.” Darrell slotted his fingers through Aldric’s, as he’d done inside the depository room. “Considering he’s my boyfriend.” He nudged his head into Aldric’s. “Aren’t you?”
For a moment, Aldric couldn’t speak. His heart was thumping too loudly and too far, filling his whole body. He had to wait for it to calm down to speak. “Yes.”
And that was it. Just one little word, but with such huge implications, and one that they we
re starting right here, with Darrell’s fellow officers as witnesses. “It’s not going to be easy,” he muttered, understanding something of what Darrell was setting in motion, but only able to guess the impact it would have on all areas of his life. Darrell would know its weight, though. He’d said he needed more time, but life didn’t always allow a person what they wanted at their own pace.
Aldric felt humbled. Had Darrell been thinking things over since Aldric had left him, like Aldric had nonstop?
“Oh, I know that.” Darrell stood slowly and swept his gaze over the milling police officers and beyond them, as if taking in the city, the place he lived, and where his family did too, but when he swung back to Aldric, the light in his eyes was just for him. “Boy, do I. You’re bossy, for one thing. And for another, I think I’ve got at least one rib broken this time.”
“When you saved me?” The memory came back, Darrell jumping in front of the bullet that had been aimed at Aldric. “You took a bullet for me!” he cried.
“Aldric?” Elliot’s voice quivered.
“Well, you saved me right back,” Darrell replied. “You tricked them and slipped me a gun and took one of those thugs out with a goddam statue, for Christ’s sake!”
Aldric raised an eyebrow at Darrell. At his boyfriend. “Did you just almost quote Pretty Woman? Because the actual word they use is rescue. ‘She rescues him right back.’”
Darrell started to laugh, only to stop, groan and clutch his side. “Yep, definitely broken,” he judged.
This caused a flurry of activity, Darrell taken off to the ambulance, and the EMT insisting on examining him. “You owe me for this, babe,” he mouthed at Aldric over their fussing.
“Hey.” Sean was standing there before Aldric could reply. “Look, I’ll get straight to it. I don’t know how to react to this.” He waved a finger between his partner and Aldric. “I don’t know how anyone at the station will.”
“I can guess.” Darrell winced as he tried to slip his shirt back on. “SAPD isn’t a beacon of tolerance for any kind of minority.”
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