by E M Lindsey
Fitz reached the spot where they’d tipped, and then a hand grabbed his ankle. He went down with the grip, but he was trained for this. This wasn’t his first time, and he managed to get Antoine’s hand unlocked from his leg, then hands under his arms as he got him to the surface.
Antoine spluttered, coughed, clawing at Fitz until Fitz put him in a one-armed hold. “Calm down,” he ordered firmly.
Antoine was gasping and sobbing. “I can’t breathe, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. I’ve got you. I want you to hold my back, and don’t panic,” Fitz told him. “We’re about a hundred yards from where you can put your feet down.” He was treading water, but his legs were aching. “Okay?”
Antoine was shaking, but he nodded, moving to grab Fitz’s back as he got him to the shore. The swim was slower, his body ready to collapse, but he made it to shallow water and got Antoine to put his feet down and release his iron grip.
“You’re okay,” Fitz said, cupping Antoine’s face. His entire body was shaking, and Ronan was limping over with his jacket off, ready to wrap the shorter man in the dry fabric. “You’re okay.”
Jaw chattering, Antoine nodded, and he let Ronan bustle him away. Fitz took a breath, trying to calm his panic, and he saw Owen in the water, swimming toward the dock with one hand on the capsized kayak. He had half a mind to run over there and smack him for his thoughtlessness, but he wanted all the facts first.
He followed the path Ronan and Antoine took to the dock, and then up the path to the cabin where Dmitri was standing at the railing, watching it all with a wide, horrified gaze.
“Is he…?”
“He’s fine,” Ronan snapped, one arm around Antoine and the other hand gripping his cane. “Do me a favor and go to the office and get my first aid kit.”
Dmitri nodded, rushing off to obey Ronan’s orders, and Fitz followed them both inside to the kitchen. “You’re not cold,” Ronan said, “but you’re in shock. You need to get dry and get warm.”
Fitz wasted no time fetching towels, and he shielded Antoine’s naked body from Ronan’s gaze long enough to get him wrapped up. He was calming down by the time Dmitri returned with the box, and he let Fitz ease him into a kitchen chair so Ronan could take a look at him.
“Just a few scrapes,” the ranger pronounced after a beat. “You should shower and get them cleaned up. I’d like to call Parker and have him come listen to your lungs though.”
Antoine groaned. “Seriously?” But his displeasure was undermined by a coughing fit, and Fitz set his jaw.
“Yes, call him. I’ll get him cleaned up. Uh…and if you could have Owen wait for me at the station…”
Ronan’s eyes went dark. “Yes, I will. Want me to call Gwen?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Fitz promised. He knelt back down in front of Antoine and waited for the door to close. When they were alone, he let out a small sigh and laid his hand to Antoine’s cheek. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
Antoine’s eyes narrowed, but in spite of his morning, he managed a half smile. “You’re a dick.”
Fitz laughed, but the sound was too tense. His heart was still thudding in his chest, and now that Antoine was safe and in the cabin, he felt inches from falling apart. “I…Jesus. What were you doing?”
“Owen asked me to,” Antoine said quietly. “We couldn’t find the lifejackets, and I…I said I couldn’t swim. He said he’d stick to the shallow parts so if we capsized, I could stand up. Then he…” Antoine licked his lips. “He thought it was funny, I think. He thought maybe I was lying.”
Fitz controlled his rage, but just barely. “I don’t know why he’s behaving like this. This isn’t…this isn’t like him. He wasn’t like this before.”
“Maybe something happened,” Antoine said. He swallowed, then drew his hand out of his cocoon of towels and rubbed it over his face. “I should shower before you force me to see Parker again.”
Fitz managed a smile, then helped Antoine stand up. “I’m going to the station to talk to my nephew and call my sister. Promise me you won’t leave.”
“I promise,” Antoine said with a small grin, and laid his palm over Fitz’s shirt where he was still sopping wet. “I’ll be here when you get back.” Another vow, but one he’d probably keep.
Fitz let him go with only some reluctance, shoved on a dry pair of sweats, then turned on his heel and marched out. The walk to the station took seconds, and Fitz was only barely in control when the door swung open and he saw Owen on one of the chairs, staring at his feet, looking miserable. Dmitri and Ronan were nowhere to be seen, but Fitz had a feeling they were close.
“I’m only going to ask you once…”
“What kind of grown-ass man can’t swim?” Owen interrupted, clearly knowing what was coming. He looked up, defiant fire in his eyes. “I didn’t think he was serious about it. He’s like forty.”
“Plenty of forty-year-old people can’t swim,” Fitz said, his voice low and dangerous. He took a step in and not even the fact that he was in a soggy t-shirt with wet hair plastered to his face, took the fear out of Owen’s eyes. “You know this. You know better than this. You could have killed him!”
“But I didn’t. And you only give a shit because you want to fuck him.”
Fitz had never lost his temper with his nephew—never. Not until this moment. He had the boy by the front of his shirt, and he hauled him to his feet. “I don’t care if it was the goddamn Dark Lord, Owen! You don’t take a person who says they can’t swim into the middle of the lake and capsize them! That’s…”
“It’s a crime.” Ronan’s voice broke through Fitz’s rage, and he carefully untwisted his fingers from the teen’s shirt. “I called Bruce.”
Owen’s eyes went wide. “What? It was a joke! Oh my god…you people really want to fuck up our lives, don’t you?” He dragged a hand through his hair, then kicked the chair over he’d been sitting in. “First you let those assholes take Dmitri away without doing anything. Then you fucking call the cops on him because that dude stumbled into the road without looking…”
Fitz held up his hand. “Was this supposed to be payback?”
Owen set his jaw and crossed his arms. “I don’t have to talk to you. You’re not a cop.”
“Neither of us are, but I have the authority to hold you,” Ronan said, his tone icy. “Go in my office or I’m going to restrain you.”
Owen looked actually scared now, though still defiant. He spun on his heel and slammed Ronan’s door behind him, and Fitz would have collapsed if Ronan hadn’t caught him. “I cannot believe him. I cannot believe him.”
“I really do think he thought Antoine was lying. I think he was trying to catch him in a lie,” Ronan said softly.
“That does not change the fact that he could have drowned. If I hadn’t been close enough…” He trailed off with a shudder, and Ronan dragged flat palms up and down his arms. “He almost…”
“He didn’t,” Ronan said quietly. “I’m going to call Gwen, and I’ve already let Bruce know to come up here and file a report. Parker’s on his way. You need to get dry and dressed, okay? Go calm down and let me handle this.”
“He’s my nephew,” Fitz argued weakly.
Ronan took him by the chin, and for the first time, he looked like the strong, brave friend he had all those years ago. “And he’s in my custody right now. Just go. Let me handle this. No one got seriously hurt.”
But it was a damn near thing, and Fitz knew it. There was no way Antoine would want to stay now. There was no way he’d want to give up actual safety for this town that had tried to kill him even before he crossed the property line. But he was waiting up at the cabin for Fitz, and at the very least, he could keep his own promise to him.
“Tell Gwen if she wants to see me…”
“I will,” Ronan said, and waved his hand at Fitz. “Go.”
With a last breath, and knowing that this was marching to the end of the road with the man he was slowly falling for, he obe
yed his friend’s order. They were on absolute borrowed time now, but he would cherish every remaining second.
Chapter Eighteen
Antoine was still shaking by the time he finished his shower, but the tremors were intermittent. His adrenaline was crashing now that he was safe, in the cabin, and mostly dry. What he really needed was Fitz to get back, but he also understood he had to handle everything.
Antoine’s head was a mess. Logically, he knew the situation was dangerous. He very nearly drowned. This wasn’t a couple of fractured ribs or a busted car. This wasn’t even choking on a cherry pit. Owen had been laughing, even when Antoine begged him to stop, and it was almost like slow motion when the kid rocked the kayak all the way over and he hit the water.
Panic surged faster than he could think, and he vaguely recalled kicking his feet and groping for the boat, but it was out of reach. His head stayed above water, but not long enough, and then he sank. His arms flailed, legs trying desperately to keep him at the surface, but his clothes were weighing him down, and his energy was zapped. And then, it all went dark.
His lungs had been on fire by the time hands grabbed him, and he reacted on instinct, clawing his way to air. Fitz’s words made no sense, but his tone was enough to keep Antoine calm until he could feel the slimy lake bottom beneath his feet. Even then, he didn’t want to let go, but he relinquished himself to Ronan’s jacket, and kept a tight grip on the ranger’s arm as they made their way back to the cabin.
It was only when he was alone that he was able to focus. He’d never been so close to giving up, so close to believing it was the end. He was shaken, and still terrified, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with all of those feelings. Owen was being a teenager, yes, but there was something angry in his eyes that spoke of more than pranks and jokes.
Antoine distracted himself by turning the kettle on, and he jumped halfway out of his skin when the door banged open. Fitz was there, still sopping wet, and he gave Antoine a fierce once over.
“Are you…?”
“Fine,” Antoine, said. It was a lie, but he could stomach it right then. “You should rinse off and change.”
Fitz’s jaw was tense, but he nodded and stormed off, slamming the door to the bathroom behind him. Antoine flinched, but he knew that anger wasn’t directed at him—or at least, mostly. Yes, he should have put on a lifejacket, but he had believed Owen when he said they were just going to stay near the shallows.
He thought Owen was trying to be nice, thought he was trying to get to know the man who was clearly interested in his uncle. He thought it was a peace offering.
Antoine realized his jaw was shaking again, and he quickly poured himself a cup of tea in the paper mugs Fitz stocked. He curled both hands around it, then gave up trying to stand still and walked the length of the room. It was easier when he was in motion, his thoughts keeping pace with his steps instead of running wild. He was exhausted, but the very idea of sleep was laughable right then.
Mostly, he just wanted to go home. Maybe not to San Francisco, but he wanted to be somewhere else that made him feel safe. He wanted to be surrounded by familiar things. That was the problem, he knew. His mostly empty apartment had his small comforts, but there wasn’t peace there either.
Fitz stepped out less than ten minutes later, dressed in a dry pair of sweats. He smelled freshly washed with the floral soap stocked in the shower, and his hair was dripping but tied in a knot at the back of his head. He stopped in the entryway to the living room, his gaze fixed on Antoine, and then he crossed the distance between them.
His hands hovered for only a moment, and then they cradled Antoine’s cheeks. He leaned in, taking a deep breath, and pressed their foreheads together. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better,” Antoine said, choosing a kinder honesty. “Where are the boys?”
“Dmitri is helping Ronan. Owen is in custody.”
At that, Antoine reared back. “Wait. What?”
“You almost drowned. He admitted what he did was on purpose.” Fitz stopped and clenched his jaw so tight, Antoine knew it had to hurt. His fingers spasmed, then he pulled away, holding his hands at his sides in fists. “He admitted he was pissed off about Dmitri’s reckless endangerment charges. He was…he was lashing out for some reason, and I don’t know why. But he took it out on you, and you almost,” his voice cracked and he stopped. “His mom’s on the way, and the sheriff.”
Antoine closed his eyes and breathed out. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“You’re allowed to go to a goddamn cabin in the woods with the expectation that someone won’t capsize your kayak,” Fitz said with a slight growl.
Antoine shook his head, because that wasn’t what he meant. “Cherry Creek. I shouldn’t have come here. Someone else could have done just as well as I have with the town and not fucked everything up.”
“You think you…” Fitz took a step back and let out a high, tight laugh. “You know that was him, right? That was Owen being…whatever he’s being right now. Dangerous, reckless, cruel. And if he has something going on, that is no excuse for what he,” he stopped and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Hollywood.”
The name shook him out of his spiral, and Antoine found himself laughing. It was steps away from crying, but then Fitz reached for him again and Antoine let the other man gather him close. “What happens now?”
“I need to wait for my sister to get here. If you want to take my truck and head back into town, though, I can give you the keys.”
Antoine shook his head. “I’d like to stay with you. I’m still a little shaky.”
Fitz tightened his grip, then led Antoine over to the sofa and his large hands urged him down to the cushions. It was nice to sit, and he felt less like he was spinning out of control with Fitz standing over him.
Before either one of them could speak, the sound of a car door slamming startled them both, and Antoine twisted in the seat to look out the window.
“Parker,” Fitz said before Antoine could ask.
Antoine fell back against the cushions with a groan. “He’s going to think I’m a fucking mess.”
At that, Fitz laughed and swiped his hand over his eyes. “That man has no business judging anyone for being a mess, trust me. During his residency in Denver, he had to go into the ER because he and his hook-up decided to try a fingering session with his prosthetic and it got stuck.”
Antoine choked on his own tongue. “Are you serious?”
“Let’s just say they kept the x-rays and bring them out during the hospital Christmas party,” Fitz said with a grin. His smile faded only slightly when there was a knock at the door, then Parker let himself in.
He looked different than the man in the lab coat Antoine had seen before, and maybe that was just because he knew the people in the town a little better now. He was still tall, and blonde, and a little imposing, but there was mischief in his eyes and a faint grin on his face.
“You just cannot stay out of trouble,” he said. He had a black duffle bag hanging off his shoulder, and he wasn’t wearing his arm, so he let it slide off and hit the floor.
“This one wasn’t his fault,” Fitz insisted.
Parker reached for a chair, but paused and gave Fitz a raised brow. “The first time was?”
Fitz huffed and glanced away. “He told Owen he couldn’t swim, and Owen thought he was lying and capsized the kayak.”
Parker swore in a language Antoine didn’t understand, but it sounded vaguely Germanic. “Where is he now?”
“With Ronan,” Fitz said. “Bruce and my sister are on their way. I should uh…”
Antoine waved him off. “You can go. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
“Make sure he’s not going to like, dry-drown or something,” Fitz ordered.
“Get out and let me do my fucking job, Edmund,” Parker ordered, still smiling a little. He waited until Ronan was gone, then he grabbed the kitchen chair he’d been reaching for and flipped it around so h
e could sit backward.
He looked different outside of scrubs and coat. He wore tight jeans with artfully torn gashes along the thighs. His t-shirt fit him like a second skin, the sleeve on his right side coming down barely an inch longer than his stump. He had sunglasses pushing his hair back, and his smile was casual.
“Are you okay?”
Antoine laughed, but the sound gave him away. “No. That was…” He swallowed thickly then breathed in deep. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been so scared.”
Parker’s smile dropped off his face, replaced with concern, and he lifted his chair and spun it around, sitting close enough for him to reach out and touch Antoine. “Do you mind if I just do a quick examination? I know that you’re probably fine, but it would make Fitz feel better.”
Antoine’s laugh was less tense this time, less anxious. “I’m sure it would. I mean, I am fine, but…whatever. Better to be safe, right?”
“That’s what I keep telling these assholes,” Parker said, his grin returning. He bent down and pulled the duffle bag open, extracting his stethoscope which he pulled apart and set in his ears with a deft movement of his one hand. He pulled out a small machine which Antoine had seen before when Marcel had been in the hospital for surgeries—and he knew it had something to do with pulse and oxygen. “None of this is scary, I promise.”
Antoine let out another laugh. “It’s not that. My brother has been through a lot of surgeries. My parents didn’t really like the vibe of the hospitals, so it was usually just me in there with him.”
Parker made a face as he settled on the sofa and hooked a small, white device that reminded him of a clothes pin to his finger. “That’s…hmm. I suppose it’s a choice.”
Antoine shrugged and stared down at the little red numbers on the machine. He wasn’t sure what they meant, but Parker didn’t seem alarmed. “They were unconventional.”
“I’ve seen a lot of parents like that,” Parker told him. His voice was dark this time, and Antoine had to wonder if it had something to do with Dmitri. He didn’t ask though, he just lifted his shirt and let the doctor guide him through a series of deep breaths. When he was done, he pulled the stethoscope from his ears and sat back, but he didn’t move away. “Your vitals look good, lungs sound clear. Fitz pulled you out?”