by Andrew Grey
“You do?” Dean hummed. “Tell me about it.”
Lee giggled. “Vain much?” he retorted.
“No. I care what you think.”
Damned if that didn’t set Lee’s heart to fluttering a little.
“Okay. You’re strong and have great muscles.” He slid his hands over Dean’s chest and then down his belly. “You keep really active.” He liked the way Dean’s flat belly fluttered under his hands. “Your skin isn’t smooth—it’s kind of rough in places. That says you’ve lived. Your lips are hard, firm, and demanding, just like the rest of you, and your hair is silky soft.” Lee really liked running his fingers through it.
“Anything else?” Dean asked.
“You make me feel safe and yet strong at the same time. Like, when I’m with you, I can do anything I want. You never treat me like I’m broken or can’t do things for myself.” Lee smiled. “And I love the hair on your chest. I think it’s sexy.” Lee splayed his fingers, sliding his hand up and down Dean’s skin, the hair tickling his palm. He liked the way Dean’s room was quiet, with only some soft classical guitar in the background. It barely registered on Lee’s consciousness, but he loved that it was only the two of them.
Of course, that couldn’t last.
When Dean’s phone rang, Lee rolled onto his back, swallowing a groan. He didn’t want anything to intrude. Just a few hours of them alone, without the rest of the world barging in…. That didn’t seem like too much to ask.
“Can I put you on speaker? Lee is here with me,” Dean said. “It’s Officer Kendall.”
Lee tensed as the phone switched over.
“I’m sorry to bother both of you, but I believe you might be onto something. Mr. Giardini lives in a trailer park near Ben’s restaurant, at the address you gave us. But he wasn’t home, and the guy who lives in a nearby trailer hasn’t seen him since yesterday, which he says isn’t uncommon. However, while we were there, I was able to pull a number of clear prints off the door and casing, and they definitely match partial ones on the rock and note.”
“That’s good, then.”
“Yes. We will issue a warrant for his arrest and pick him up as soon as possible. Thank you for your help. The information you provided is going to help us close this one out.”
“It’s for all our benefit. Thank you.” Dean hung up, and Lee sighed, curling next to Dean. The police knew who the man was, and they were going to pick him up. All he had to do was wait. Dean put his arm around him, holding him closer, and Lee snuggled right in.
He and Dean woke, made love, and slept the rest of the evening. They got up ravenous sometime in the night and then went back to bed.
They spent much of Sunday in bed, with Lee calling to let his parents know he was okay. He made sure to talk to his dad so his mom couldn’t yell at him. Lee figured he was being cowardly, but what the hell.
Lee went home Sunday evening, not wanting to be away from Dean but knowing a little distance to think things over was probably a good idea.
ON MONDAY morning, Lee and Scott were scheduled to work back at the main garage. Dean had a lot to do that didn’t involve them, so the plan was to give him a few days, and then Lee and Scott would return to work on the Cobra on Wednesday.
His dad took him in to work. “You need to understand that your mom is worried you’re moving too fast.”
“I know, Dad. But it doesn’t feel fast to me.” Lee said goodbye and went inside, where Scott met him.
“From that smile, you must have had a great weekend,” Scott said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Lee nodded, failing to keep the smile from his lips. He used the computer to bring Scott up to date on what had happened.
“Do you want to talk? Maybe you and I could have lunch. There’s a sub shop just up the road. We could bring the computer, and I’ll listen, so to speak.”
“I’d like that,” Lee typed.
Scott took his arm, Lee made sure he was oriented, and they got to work.
The morning was busy, which helped Lee keep his mind on his work, where it should be, rather than wondering if the police had caught Marshall. When it was time for lunch, Scott guided Lee out to his car, and they rode to Cousins for a sub. Car time with Scott was quiet time, but once they were inside, Lee set up the laptop at the far table that Scott had guided him to.
“What’s got you so nervous?” Scott asked.
“They think they know who threw the rock—it was that guy from the club. The police are looking for him. I guess what bothers me is that I don’t know why he’s targeting me. I’d never met him before that night at the club.” It was all so confusing to Lee, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he got. “There is something that we’re missing, but I don’t know what.” He finished typing and waited for Scott.
“I wish I could help you. What does Dean think?”
“He doesn’t know either, though he’s been really wonderful through it all. But I keep thinking that he’s going to get tired of all this drama. You know that guys like us require extra work.” Other than James, Scott was the only one Lee could talk to regarding his fears about being blind. He would have thought that by now he could have accepted the way things were.
“You need to stop fighting what you can’t change. You’re blind, and I’m deaf. So fucking what? We are what we are. Life might have kicked us in the pants, but we just have to deal with it and move on. You need to stop worrying about whether it makes you unlovable, because it doesn’t. And I’m just saying”—his tone completely changed—“judging by the way Dean looks at you, the man is head over heels. He gets all gooey-eyed and his lips curl upward if you just walk in the room. So stop worrying and let yourself be happy, because you deserve it.” Scott patted his hand, and Lee nodded.
“I think that is what I needed to hear.” Lee smiled once he was done with his message. If that same message had come from someone else, Lee might not have taken it to heart, but from Scott, his best friend? He valued his opinion and frankly loved the guy like the brother he’d never had. There were times when he felt like such a slacker because Scott had moved on so much more easily than he had.
Lee’s phone jangled, and he answered it. “Dean?”
“Yeah. Where are you?”
“Scott and I are at lunch. Why?” Lee wondered at the frantic tone in Dean’s voice.
“I got another call from Officer Kendall. They brought in Marshall, but….” Panic filled Dean’s voice. “Just get back here, now. Grab whatever you’re eating and drive back to the garage. Please.” He breathed deeply. “Just hurry. I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”
“Okay. We’re just up the street.” Lee hung up and messaged Scott about what was going on.
Scott gathered up their food and took Lee’s arm to hustle them out to the car. Lee got in the passenger seat, waiting for Scott. When the back door opened, Lee figured Scott was putting the food back there. Then door closed and the driver’s door opened.
“We’re going for a ride. Don’t do anything or your dead.”
The voice was one he had never heard before, and Lee instantly realized he was being taken for a trip to hell.
Chapter 9
DEAN RACED out in front of the garage, watching up the road for Scott’s car, but he didn’t see it. “How far is that restaurant?” He turned to Trevor. “They should have been here by now.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, growing more anxious by the second.
Brent joined them, all three watching the road. “I messaged Scott and didn’t get an answer,” he said. “Then again, he wouldn’t text if he’s driving.” Even Brent, who was usually unflappable, seemed nervous. “What is all this about?”
Dean had to get his whirling thoughts in order. “I just spoke with Officer Kendall. They apparently have put together a pretty good picture of what’s going on, and they wanted to make sure Lee was safe. The guy at the club, Marshall, the one who went after Lee? He’s Dumbfuck Chuck’s cousin. He said that Chuck paid him to follow Lee. C
huck had seen us at the club and put Marshall up to going after him. That was why he was so aggressive. This whole thing is just starting to become clear. Marshall apparently told the police that Chuck wanted the guy I was seeing out of the picture, and he paid some guy Lee worked with to cause trouble so Lee would quit.” Dean would have liked to give Cliff some trouble of his own, but he had to keep his mind where it belonged. “According to Officer Kendall, Chuck told Marshall that he was going to handle it himself.”
“Does that idiot think you’ll go back to him?” Trevor asked, shaking his head. “Like hurting the guy you’re in love with is going to endear him to you.”
Dean groaned as he continued to watch the road, not seeing the car and about ready to crawl out of his skin. “I don’t think rationality has anything to do with it. Chuck was at the club that night. I’m willing to bet that he was talking to me partly because he wanted to plant the idea of getting back together, and partly because he was trying to keep me occupied so his cousin could make his move.”
“Jesus,” Brent breathed. “Do you think—?”
“I don’t know what the hell to think. They should have been back by now.” Dean was already on his way to his car.
“I’ll stay here. You two try to find them.” Trevor waved them on, and Brent climbed into the passenger seat.
Dean took off, spinning out and not giving a damn. He barreled down the road as fast as he dared. “Watch the cars coming the other way,” he told Brent.
“I am. You just get there.”
Dean pulled into the sub shop parking lot and ran inside. The place was in an uproar. “What’s going on?” Dean demanded, cutting through the din.
“Someone was just nabbed in our parking lot,” a kid, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen, answered.
“Call the police right now. Which way did they go?”
“Toward the freeway,” he answered.
Seconds later, Dean was back behind the wheel, pulling out into traffic, weaving in and around cars in a bid to catch up before they reached the freeway. If that happened, his chances of reaching them were slim. And then who knew what might happen to them?
“What the hell are we going to do?” Brent asked, his phone pinging. “Holy shit, they’re in Scott’s car, heading to Milwaukee on the freeway. He just texted.”
Dean tossed Brent his phone. “Call Kendall. The number is in the phone. Hopefully she’ll answer.” He wasn’t going to take his hands off the wheel at this speed.
Brent put the phone on speaker, and thank God the policewoman answered.
“This is Dean Milford. Lee and his friend Scott were kidnapped at Cousins sub shop. They are in Scott’s car, a 2012 blue Toyota Camry. Scott messaged that they are on Highway 43 heading toward downtown from Brown Deer Road. Scott is deaf and Lee is blind. You have to find them.”
“Okay. Calm down. The kidnapping was reported, and officers are on their way. There are reports of a speeder on 43 matching that description. Thank you.” She ended the call, and Dean wanted to scream as he took the freeway onramp heading toward the city.
“How in the hell am I supposed to calm down?” Dean asked, not expecting an answer. Brent had to be as scared as he was.
“I don’t know,” Brent said, his hands on the dashboard, his knuckles white. “But if I get my hands on this guy first, I’m going to wring his fucking neck.”
“That makes two of us,” Dean said, weaving around slower cars until a sea of red taillights appeared in front of him.
LEE WAS in the passenger seat of Scott’s car, he knew that. Scott was in the back seat. He heard the squinch of duct tape and figured Scott had been restrained. Apparently the driver knew Lee was blind and hadn’t expected him to be any trouble at all. He didn’t talk, just drove erratically, throwing Lee from side to side. Lee didn’t dare reach for the seat belt. He had no idea how this guy was going to react to anything.
“Why are you doing this?” Scott asked, probably for Lee’s benefit.
“Shut up. I should have duct-taped your mouth too,” the man snapped, and Lee felt a hand whiz by his ear, probably to intimidate Scott.
A long, sweeping turn followed, and Lee figured they were entering the onramp to the freeway. The car sped up, and he tried to think of anything that he could do to save himself and Scott. The longer they were in the car, the farther they got from Dean, Brent, and help.
The car wove in and out of traffic, and Lee held the side of the seat to keep from moving too much. He had to do something. What would Race do? Lee tried to calm down and think. The driver didn’t consider him a threat. That was something. And if he tried something, he was only going to get once chance, so he needed to make it good. Lee listened beyond the sound of the wind outside and the roar of the engine to the man’s breathing. He knew where he was and where his nose and mouth were by following the sound. Lee imagined how he sat in the seat and slowly crossed his arms over his chest to hide his left hand.
“Shit!” the guy swore. “Get the fuck out of the way, grandma.” The car slowed, and Lee seized the moment. He clenched his fist and swung his arm, putting his entire body behind it. Lee connected with a snap, followed by more cursing and the car swerving. Without waiting, he propelled himself closer to elbow the guy in the side and then punching again, this time going for his family jewels.
From there, everything happened fast. There was a bang on the driver’s side, and then the car swerved, throwing Lee back into his seat. He held on for dear life on as they hurtled forward, crashed into something in front of them, and finally came to a stop.
DEAN GRIPPED the steering wheel with all his strength, his nerves seconds from shattering. “Get out of the fucking way!” He tried to get around the traffic, but there was no way that was happening. They inched forward slowly as police cars and rescue vehicles passed on the shoulder, everyone doing their best to get over. Dean thought he was going to go out of his mind if this kept up much longer. Not that he had a clue where Lee and Scott actually were. They could have gotten off the freeway at any of the exits, making this entire exercise futile.
“There are lights up ahead,” Brent said, equally frantic. “Oh shit, that’s Scott’s car. Pull off, pull off.” Dean got to the side of the road, and Brent was out the door, racing forward. Dean shut off the engine, put on the hazard lights, and was out, running behind him. “Lee!” Brent screamed, and Dean wondered why Brent was calling his boyfriend. In his near panic, he had forgotten that Scott couldn’t hear.
A figure in overalls turned around as though scanning the area. It was Scott. He raced toward Brent and ended up in his arms as police officers reached both of them. Dean came up right behind.
“Stop!”
“My boyfriend is in that car. His name is Lee, and he’s blind,” Dean shouted as he pressed forward. He’d take out half the National Guard to get to him. The mangled mess of metal, plastic, and wheels was just ahead. The front end was smashed, and the driver’s door had been pushed into the cabin. He couldn’t see the passenger side—it was jammed into the guard rail. With all that damage, he wondered how anyone still inside could not have been hurt—or worse.
“Sir, we are working to try to help him,” another policeman said.
“It’s all right,” Officer Kendall added.
Dean calmed a little, still ready to bang heads if he didn’t get some answers. His heart beat in his ears and all he saw was rage and worry. Everything else was secondary.
“Please relax. There was an accident, and Lee is stuck in the car. As far as we can tell, he is okay, and they are working to get him out.”
Brent and Scott joined him, with Scott hugging Dean, not saying anything. Then Scott released him and returned to Brent, holding on to him as if his life depended on it.
Dean stood next to the barrier, his gaze intent on what was left of the car. The passenger side was pressed right to the barrier, with a trail of paint and debris leading up to it. “What about the driver?”
“I can’t
tell you anything because this is an open kidnapping case, but there is an ambulance on the way for him. We need to get him out before we can move the car and get access to Lee. So please be patient. Everyone is working as quickly as they can. Please wait here, and I’ll do my best to keep you informed.”
More sirens approached as traffic continued its slow, gawking pace, down to a single lane, until each driver got their fill of someone else’s misery and sped up. Dean was too worried to think about being on display. His gaze and attention focused on what remained of the car.
An ambulance pulled just ahead of the accident and maneuvered into place. Dean recognized Chuck as he was dragged out of the car and put right onto a backboard. He must have been hurt pretty badly. From where he stood, Dean didn’t see any blood, but Chuck didn’t seem to be moving a great deal, and he wasn’t groaning. Then again, it would be hard to hear anything over the traffic.
“Is he alive?” Dean asked. Brent translated his question to Scott.
“Yes,” Scott answered. “But when the car stopped, he flew forward. I don’t think he was wearing a seat belt. Lee’s airbag went off, but the one on the driver’s side didn’t do much to help him. I’m not sure I really care, to be honest.” Scott leaned closer to Brent, shaking. “I’ve never been kidnapped before.”
Scott and Brent signed back and forth. Dean turned away, feeling as though he was intruding, even though he had no idea what they were saying. It just felt rude to watch. He turned back to the car, waiting until they were able to get Lee out of the driver’s door. He seemed okay, and the EMTs led him over to the ambulance, where they took his blood pressure and pulse.
Dean’s feet carried him forward of their own volition. Nothing was going to keep him away. “Lee!”
“Dean….” Lee’s voice was shaky as he reached out and took Dean’s hand.
“I’m right here. Are you hurt?”
“No. Just a little sore, but there’s nothing broken or anything,” Lee said. It was all Dean could do to keep from taking him in his arms.