North on Drummond

by K. C. Burn

  “Cliff had no idea who I was in high school. Not a clue. I promise you, he certainly wasn’t fucking underage guys.” Because Drew would have figured that out pretty quick.

  Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “I would really like to kick his ass, you know. Especially if he hurts you.”

  “Well, you can’t. No matter what. And I…” Embarrassment flashed through him. “I maybe wandered by here, back in high school.”

  Wyatt’s face darkened, and Drew hastened to explain. “I mean…I wanted to know where he lived. I snuck in here and, uh…” Watched. Jeez. He was probably lucky he’d never been arrested for stalking, because if he hadn’t been a fourteen-year-old kid in the throes of his first crush, he would have been totally creepy. Hell, maybe he was anyway, but kids could be so dumb.

  Comprehension flooded Wyatt’s face—neither of Drew’s brothers were as stupid as most people assumed they were.

  “Oh man. I remember that year now. You’d had a crush on someone—Cliff Garcia? Really? You know how much me and Robbie fought with him.”

  Drew shrugged. “I know. But that’s actually why I noticed him.”

  Wyatt’s mouth moved as though he wanted to growl or bare his teeth, but he settled on a muttered, “Fucking figures. Let’s go patch things up with your damned boyfriend.”

  After giving his brother a fond smile, Drew continued on toward the TV crew. Be easier if Kyle was here, but Wyatt was turning into a surprisingly supportive companion.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Cliff!”

  The shout caught Cliff’s attention, and he turned to see Drew, red hair flying in the wind as he strode up. The sudden surge of happiness made him smile. For a brief second. Until he saw Wyatt trailing Drew.

  “Oh shit.” There could only be one reason Drew would be coming after him during his shift, an evil twin in tow. Drew was going to dump him and wanted backup. He wasn’t going to give Cliff a chance to grovel and apologize.

  His happiness fizzled, and his breath hitched. Somehow he’d get through this without breaking. Somehow.

  The closer Drew got, the shallower Cliff’s breathing became. At this rate, he might pass out before he had a chance to say anything to Drew.

  Scott stood beside him, watching the Drummond brothers approach. “You want me to stick around for backup?”

  Cliff grimaced. His love life—both ex- and current boyfriends—might be the most interesting thing to happen on this shoot. With Brett sulking in one of the trailers, there was a whole lot of nothing going on, so he could hardly blame Scott for hanging around. The offer of support was nice but unnecessary because they both knew Cliff could hold his own against a single Drummond twin.

  All things considered, he’d rather grovel without an audience, but since Drew had brought a wingman, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have one of his own.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Cliff’s voice cracked a bit, and he cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t sound on the edge of breaking down, although he sort of was. He couldn’t even blame Drew for accusing Brett of murder, because somehow Drew had figured out something hinky was going on even if it wasn’t an actual murder.

  Then Drew was in front of him. “Hi.”

  Cliff hated that Drew sounded so hesitant and unsure. Which was his fault. But now that Drew was standing in front of him, looking sweet and delicious, Cliff had no idea where to begin.

  “Hi.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking for all the world like a bodyguard.

  “I—” Drew started to speak again, but Cliff held up a hand. There was only one person in the wrong here, and he had to take responsibility for that.

  “No, please, let me speak.”

  Pink tinted Drew’s cheeks as he nodded, his gaze skipping around, landing everywhere but Cliff’s face.

  “Drew, I’m so sorry. I was an idiot at lunch. I know I’m having a hard time accepting your…beliefs…but getting angry about it was completely out of line.”

  The pleading in his voice must have registered with Drew, because those mesmerizing blue eyes finally lifted, and Drew looked him direct in the face, lips parted in what appeared to be confusion. Cliff wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t distract himself that way. Not yet.

  “You said…you said some pretty awful things.” Drew’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.

  “I know. I was wrong.” Cliff tried not to squirm at the memory of how harsh he’d been. “Please don’t let my momentary stupidity change the way you feel about me.”

  Drew bit his lip and cracked his knuckles, and the silence stretched out too long.

  “I want to be with you more than anything. I was blaming you for issues I had that were a carryover from my parents’ divorce. It was stupid, and I promise I won’t let it happen again.” Cliff didn’t know if he could admit to love yet, not this soon, but it wouldn’t be long. No one had ever made him feel like this.

  Wyatt pretended to gag, but Cliff couldn’t let that throw him off. If he was going to have Drew in his life, he’d have to get used to the evil twins. Besides, he only cared about Drew’s reaction, and the fine tension keeping Drew taut melted, just a bit. Cliff took a step closer, thankful beyond belief that Drew didn’t move away or flinch.

  “It wasn’t my intention to upset you like that. I…I want to be with you too.”

  Relief made Cliff’s knees wobbly. All he wanted to do was yank Drew into his arms and kiss him thoroughly enough to wipe away the fear and dread. Making up in front of witnesses while he was on duty made that utterly impossible, though.

  Drew’s breath caught. “If it happens again, another vision…I’ll just keep it to myself, okay?”

  Guilt wrenched at Cliff’s heart. “No. Please don’t. I know it’s something I’ll have to come to terms with, but I don’t want to start a relationship where you feel you have to keep things from me. And…and…” God, it was killing him to say this, but recent events had planted a tiny seed of doubt in his once firmly held skepticism.

  “And what?” Drew’s eyes were wide and filled with hope.

  “And he just accused Brett Cavanagh of murdering Andy Wilson.” Scott’s words were almost explosive, and embarrassment sent blood racing to Cliff’s cheeks.

  Cliff didn’t even look at Wyatt, because he didn’t give a fuck what Drew’s brother thought, but Drew looked stunned to the point of speechlessness, and Cliff hastened to explain. “Uh, yes, well, I was wrong. About the murder.” He was fucking this up, and he held his hands up, palms out, trying to prevent anyone from saying anything until he’d spit out his explanation.

  “I don’t know what you saw, Drew. I’m not convinced you saw a murder, but you definitely put me on the trail of some funny business that Andy was involved in.” Which was the only reason he hadn’t insisted Drew return to the doctor for another MRI.

  Cliff proceeded to explain, Scott dropping in several humiliating details of his interaction with Brett. After he was done, Drew’s eyes filled, but he was smiling.

  “I can’t believe you did that for me. I was going to tell you that I might have been wrong about my conclusions, but there were too many coincidences for me to not at least tell you about what I saw. Thank you, North.”

  “North? Why the fuck are you calling him North?” Wyatt asked, making Cliff groan. He didn’t mind Drew calling him that, but it would weird him out if anyone else did so.

  Drew turned a glare on his brother. “None of your business. Only I can call him that.”

  “Oh, a sex thing. Well, kiss and make up, already, so we can get the hell out of here. Cliff is still on the clock, so I’m guessing you’re not staying here with him unless you want to get him fired.” Wyatt grinned in a way that said more clearly than words he’d be damn happy if Cliff got fired. Sadly, soon he’d make Wyatt a happy man.

  Cliff cleared his throat. “Um, about that… This might be my last day on the job. I’ve already got a meeting with the chief tomorrow morning, and I don’t think he’s too ha
ppy with how I, uh, approached Brett.”

  A muffled snort of laughter came from Scott. “Sorry, man, I don’t want you to get canned, but you were like the lord of vengeance. It was so awesome.”

  Drew wasn’t at all amused. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I never meant for that to happen. Would it help if I talked to your chief? Explained it was all my fault?”

  Wyatt made choking sounds at Drew’s offer to walk willingly into the police station, but Drew ignored him.

  “My temper isn’t your fault, and I need to control it better. That’s all on me.”

  “But if I hadn’t told you about my vision…”

  Cliff shrugged. “If you hadn’t said something, I wouldn’t have known about Brett’s hoax. I don’t know if the knowledge helped at all. Brett is still determined to sabotage his show and make Sandy Bottom Bay look foolish at the same time, but at least this way the chief and the mayor can be prepared for the backlash.”

  Drew didn’t look convinced, but Cliff wasn’t interested in Drew pleading his case for him. He could own up to his own mistakes, and although he didn’t want to lose his job, he was more worried about what it would mean for their fragile relationship.

  “I’m sorry. If I get canned, well…”

  Drew gasped, and moisture gathered in his red-rimmed eyes. “You’re not…you’re not leaving, are you?”

  “No! But I won’t have an income. I have some savings, but not a huge amount.” Living in Los Angeles was expensive, and so was moving back here.

  The lack of apprehension or hesitation in Drew’s smile drained away the last vestiges of Cliff’s fear and doubt. This was a true partnership, the kind he’d always dreamed of. “We’ll deal with that if it happens. Together we can manage.”

  “Yeah, we can.” He was grateful Drew didn’t make any noises about getting money from his mother. She’d help if he needed it, but he never wanted to rely on her, and Drew, who’d worked so hard to support himself, understood that without Cliff having to explain it.

  Despite everything, this was his home. Both he and Drew belonged here, together.

  Cliff reached out to draw Drew into his arms—since his job was toast, he was going to kiss his damn boyfriend—but the second they touched, Drew stiffened, his eyes blank and sightless.

  “Drew? What’s wrong?”

  Something in his voice alerted Scott and Wyatt, and they both crowded him to stare at Drew, who gave no indication he heard or saw any of them.

  THE VISION OF blood and swamp faded into the concerned faces of Cliff, Scott, and Wyatt. What didn’t fade was Drew’s sense of urgency, the sense that time was running out.

  “Are you okay?” Cliff’s skin tone didn’t easily lend itself to paling, but he definitely looked washed out.

  Physically Drew was fine, but he needed a minute to assimilate what he’d seen, and apparently the visions weren’t as seamless as he’d assumed.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” Drew wrinkled his nose. He didn’t really want to ask what happened, because that might only lend credence to the fact that he had some sort of brain injury that made him hallucinate. But he couldn’t believe they were hallucinations. “Where’s Rob?”

  Cliff wrapped a warm hand around the back of Drew’s neck. “It was like you were asleep or something for a minute. A minor seizure, maybe. Do you have a headache? Maybe we need to take you to the hospital.”

  Oh great. Good thing he didn’t fucking own a car, or that could be real trouble.

  The sense of urgency still rode him, and if what he’d seen was God’s honest truth, then he was going to need help.

  “Cliff… North…” Drew whispered the nickname, hoping it would put Cliff in a more receptive frame of mind. “You aren’t going to like this, but please, you have to believe me. We need to find Rob and Brett.”

  “What?” Wyatt’s voice dripped with derision. “Rob wouldn’t have anything to do with that pansy.”

  “Except try to punch his lights out,” Cliff said with a glare.

  “He was perving on my brother and Kyle.” Wyatt’s defense of Rob’s actions was loud and strident. “He was perfectly justified.”

  “Justified? Is that why he’s been avoiding Drew? Because he felt justified? This is why fighting isn’t the answer to every fucking disagreement in the universe, Drummond.” Cliff’s words were sharp and guaranteed to piss off Wyatt.

  “Shut up, both of you.” Drew’s voice bordered on a shriek, but he couldn’t handle his brother and boyfriend sniping at each other. Not now. Not when time was running out.

  They both turned affronted looks on him, but Drew would worry about hurt feelings later.

  “I wasn’t having a goddamn seizure.” He didn’t think. “When I touched Cliff, I had a…vision. I’m sorry, but that’s what it was. We need to find Rob and Brett right now.”

  Cliff’s lips pressed together into a tight line, his attempt to be open-minded about Drew’s visions almost painful to watch.

  “Listen. I think they’re in trouble. Like, they-could-die sort of trouble.”

  With an intensity he must reserve for interacting with criminals, Cliff stared into Drew’s face as if assessing his sincerity. Maybe he was checking to see if Drew had the crazy eyes, but Drew didn’t care if he sounded nuts. The vision had been pretty fucking clear, and until he saw Rob, he wasn’t going to rest. Brett too, but only because Drew didn’t wish death on anyone.

  “What did you see, Drew?” Wyatt tensed, ready for a fight. Any guy who hurt a Drummond brother would be lucky if he managed to keep his teeth, assuming he didn’t get beaten to death. Drew might not be as big as his brothers, but he’d be right there in the fray.

  “Not a lot. They were tied up, bloody, and out in the swamp.”

  “That’s not a lot to go on,” Cliff said quietly.

  “Listen, you bacon-flavored bastard. Either you stand behind the pansy-ass apology you just gave my brother, or get the fuck out of my way, because I’m not letting Rob end up as gator feed.”

  Cliff blinked, probably at the surprisingly subtle way of calling him a pig. “No one is going to end up as gator food.”

  “Yeah, but Cliff, they might,” said Drew. “I didn’t see who did that to them, but I’m sure that’s what he—or she, I suppose—intended. Hide the evidence with the gators. I can’t let this go, not if it means saving my brother. And no matter how much trouble Brett has been giving you, do you want him to die?”

  “Are you fucking serious? What the hell is going on?” Scott didn’t look nearly as goofy as he had in high school. Nope, he was a right scary cop when he wanted to be.

  “Just hold on a second. No one is going to die, not if I can help it.” Cliff had a scary cop voice too, and he threw a glare in Wyatt’s direction. “And I’m standing behind my apology. But ‘the swamp’ can cover a lot of ground. And before we go off like some half-cocked search party, why don’t we check if Rob and Brett are where they’re supposed to be?”

  “Agreed.” Scott slapped Cliff on the shoulder. “But let’s keep this as quiet as we can, okay?”

  “Worried about your job too?” Wyatt sneered.

  Scott’s jaw tightened. “Actually, I’m more worried about starting a panic and/or letting a potential murderer escape before we can figure out what’s going on.”

  Drew wouldn’t be able to relax until Rob was okay, but something inside him eased at the support he was getting from all three men. At least he wasn’t going to have to tromp through the swamp all by himself. He was itching to do just that, but he couldn’t argue with Cliff’s logic. After all, there was no guarantee his visions were in real time. They could be a future occurrence. Or, as Cliff had implied when he was telling them about the hoax, the visions could be merely representative, not literal. As much as Drew felt, deep down, they were almost snapshots of events, there was still no evidence of Andy being murdered. The fact that Cliff had gone to check at all had been amazing and heartwarming all at once.

  If Drew weren’t worried abou
t his brother getting eaten by a gator, he’d want to take Cliff home and give him the blowjob of his life.

  “Okay, then.” Cliff grabbed Drew’s hand and squeezed comfortingly before pulling out his cell phone with a flourish. “First, I’ll call Brett, and you call Rob.”

  Wyatt pulled out his own phone, which was the wisest choice in Drew’s opinion, since Rob had avoided Drew’s calls as well as Drew’s presence since the accident. His brother’s finger trembled, ever so slightly, the only sign he was as worried as Drew.

  It took just seconds to realize that when both men spoke into their phones, they were speaking to voice mail.

  “Does Rob screen calls?” Scott asked. Drew wasn’t surprised Scott hadn’t asked if Brett did, because everyone knew that Brett was the sort of guy who did, even if Cliff hadn’t just accused him of murder.

  “Nope,” Wyatt replied. “Not even during sex.”

  Drew shuddered, thankful he hadn’t ever called Rob while he was having sex.

  With a deep breath, Cliff put his phone away. “We’ll split up into pairs so the crew doesn’t get weirded out by strangers poking around unaccompanied. I think Brett went to one of the trailers. Scott, you and Wyatt check those out, since Brett might actively be hiding from me. Drew and I will check to see if their vehicles are here and take a quick run through the outbuildings. I think Rob was working up at the house, so we’ll meet up there and see if we can find him there.”

  The plan made sense, and Drew was glad he didn’t have to be parted from the comfort of Cliff’s presence. But damn, the minutes were ticking by, and it was almost dark. Any minute he might start panicking and running into the brush.

  CLIFF’S STOMACH TWISTED as he and Drew walked silently toward the house. Brett’s shiny red truck was parked with the rest of the crew vehicles, but Rob’s piece-of-shit truck was nowhere to be found. Its absence hadn’t done anything to convince Drew that Rob wasn’t in danger, as Cliff had half expected. The outbuildings weren’t empty, but Brett and Rob were not in them, at least as far as could be told with a cursory walk-through. But absence of proof wasn’t proof of absence.