Simon laughed. It sounded forced. “Oh, I’m not with the agency. I’m a rent boy. A high-end rent boy, of course. I’ve known Eric for ages.” He drew out the last word, injecting it with a bit of meaning Sam easily deciphered. “I help him out on occasion, when the matter in question is related to my subject of… expertise.”
“Ah.” Sam stabbed a piece of shrimp with his fork and waited for him to go on. But Simon didn’t seem inclined to elaborate on the intimate details. He set down his half-eaten plate of food and stood up.
“Let’s have a drink. Shall we?” He swayed his thin hips as he made his way to the liquor cabinet Sam had been trying to ignore. Sticking his ass out, he bent over and picked up a bottle of expensive vodka. “I can make a passable martini,” he said, turning around. “Or perhaps you’d prefer a whiskey? The selection’s not very good, I’m afraid. Nothing that isn’t American.” He wrinkled his pert nose.
“Uh. I’m good. Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
Sam forced down a bite of food as Simon grabbed the cocktail shaker. He’d meant what he said to Nathan about not drinking anymore, but desire smacked him in the face with tinkling ice, crystal, and the pungent scent of olives.
“So what do you do, Sam, other than our dear Nathan? What a darling he is. I am so sorry about the misunderstanding the other night. He was quite cross with me.”
“It’s fine,” Sam said. “I overreacted.”
“You mustn’t mind me,” Simon continued as he mixed his drink, “I have a shameful lack of concern for anyone but myself. Just ask Eric.” There was a bite to the last statement not meant for Sam. He walked back to the couch, sipping carefully. “So?” Simon said once he sat down. “What do you do?”
Sam shifted away from the smell. He focused on the TV show, where three judges were frowning at an atrocious-looking ensemble created by one of the contestants. “I guess you could say I’m trying to be a journalist.”
“Trying to be?” Simon fished one of the several olives out of his glass and held it to pursed lips.
“Well, I’ve had a measure of success, but I’ve been a little distracted lately.” He wasn’t about to spill his guts to a stranger.
“Hmm. Writing seems so difficult. I abhor hard work. You can ask Eric that too. He knows I can’t be bothered to lift a finger.” He raised his voice again, and this time Sam heard a muttered curse from the other room. Simon stretched out his legs and propped them up on the coffee table, seemingly satisfied. Sam couldn’t help feeling like he was putting on an act.
“Why do I not believe that for a second?”
Simon gave him a hard-edged smile, and his rent boy persona wavered like a mirage.
“Believe what?” Nathan stood in the doorway looking edible in a Henley and jeans. Sam was getting used to the sexy casual clothes. He moved over on the couch to make room.
“Oh nothing. Your boy and I were having a little chat,” said Simon, waving his glass casually.
While Sam didn’t mind thinking of himself as Nathan’s boy, hearing it from the mouth of a kid who was probably no older than Tim made him bristle.
Simon smiled sweetly. “Oh, you don’t like me calling you that. But why? I should think anyone would be proud to be Nathan’s boy.”
“You making trouble in here, Si?” Another voice joined the conversation. Eric swung his massive arms as he stalked across the room toward the liquor cabinet. Contrasted with Simon to Sam’s right, he was mountainous.
“As always, darling.” There was no emotion in the drawled endearment, and Eric responded with a vinegary frown as he made his drink. The air in the room felt like it had chilled thirty degrees—obviously something had changed in the last few hours. Sam remembered the tattooed initials he’d seen on Eric’s arm and the conversation they had back in Stonebridge about love, though it seemed an eternity had passed since then. Whatever the relationship between the two men, it was complicated.
Nathan seemed as eager to escape the tension as Sam. “Well, I think we’re headed to bed,” he said, putting his hand on Sam’s thigh. “Eric, let’s talk again in the morning and finish the report. Hopefully we’ll be out of here in a couple days.”
Eric grunted his assent and raised his glass of whiskey, which he downed in one large gulp. His usual good humor was gone. “Night.”
Simon didn’t seem to notice them leave. He was too busy staring at Eric.
“SO WHAT did you and Eric decide to do?” Sam asked later, his voice husky from the blowjob he’d given Nathan. He was sleepy and boneless from the reciprocal attention, but still curious about the case and the men in the other room. At the moment Eric and Simon were having either an argument or very angry sex. It was hard to tell which.
“He agrees with me the case is going nowhere. He and Simon have gone back several times and there’s no sign of illegal activity, not even solicitation. They can still be shut down for operating without a permit, but the cops don’t need us for that.”
“So you’re out?”
“We’re out.” Nathan pulled the blanket over them and then turned out the light. From beyond the far wall, Sam heard a moan that was definitely sexual. It probably would have gotten him going again, if not for the whole being-exhausted thing.
“What about Simon?” Sam asked as another, louder groan punctuated the air.
“What about him?”
“Does he solicit?”
“No. Of course not.” Nathan sighed and flung an arm around Sam.
Sam turned toward the embrace. “He made it sound like he did. Called himself a rent boy.”
“Oh. He was, years back, until he was arrested.”
“Who arrested him?” Sam had a sneaking suspicion he knew how Nathan would answer.
“Eric.”
“Hmm.” Sam yawned and snuggled closer. He was going to sleep like the dead. “So are they in love or what?”
“I don’t think they know.”
Sam closed his eyes. No matter the uncertainties in his life, at least there was one person he could count on.
SAM’S RINGING cell phone dragged him from sleep early the next morning. He grabbed for it as Nathan grunted his protest.
“Hello. This is Sam,” he whispered, pushing back the covers and exiting the bedroom with haste. He’d recognized the ring. Shady Brook.
“Sam?” said a familiar voice on the other end of the line. “It’s Lisa.”
“What’s going on? How is Tim?” His stomach clenched. If something happened while he was away, he’d never forgive himself.
“There’s been some movement. And some vocalization.”
“What do you mean? Another seizure?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. The doctors…. I don’t want to get your hopes up, and that’s why I didn’t call right away… but they think he might be responding to stimuli.”
Sam froze in the doorway. He’d heard the words clearly enough, but his brain refused to absorb them. The early light had started to filter in, and the sound of commuters on the street below combined with the pounding of blood in his ears. He almost thought he was dreaming.
“Are you serious?” he whispered.
“I am.” There was a smile in her voice, but it faded quickly. “But listen. We need to talk about expectations. I know you know this, but even if he does wake up—and it’s still not a guarantee—there’s a long road ahead. We don’t know the extent of the damage. And of course the effects of being unconscious so long….” In the silence Sam heard the litany of warnings she’d stopped herself from elaborating—the possibility he might never walk, or speak… the possibility he might not know Sam. But none of that mattered.
“I’m just trying to prepare you for any eventuality. Okay?” she continued. “I want you to keep your expectations realistic.” It was too late. He was already flying. The hope he’d come to dread, long repressed and withered, seared his chest with joy.
“We think it’s a good idea for you to come down. Having someone familiar near
by…. Family is really important.”
“I’m already on my way. Thanks, Lisa. Thanks so much.”
“I’m hoping for the best for both of you.” The smile in her voice was back, and Sam found himself foolishly grinning at the air. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste and ran smack into Nathan’s bare chest as he emerged from the bedroom.
“Whoa. What’s the hurry?” Nathan asked, steadying him with hands on both shoulders. “I heard you talking out here. Is everything okay?”
“It was Lisa. The doctors think Tim’s waking up. I need to go home.”
Sam braced himself for the inevitable objection, preparing for battle. Nathan wouldn’t want him heading back alone under the circumstances, but nothing could hold him here, not when his brother needed him.
Instead Nathan smiled as the words sank in, and Sam’s gut clenched in an entirely different way. Nathan always looked younger when he smiled. His face was open and unguarded. It reminded Sam of the hundred times he’d seen that expression before they were together, when that smile and the man behind it were nothing more than a dream. The reality was so much better than anything he could have imagined.
Sam leaned up on his toes and dragged Nathan’s head down. Their mouths met in a smiling, laughing kiss that stole Sam’s breath and made his heart pound.
“I want this more than anything for you,” Nathan said, murmuring the words against Sam’s cheek as they broke apart.
Sam hugged him tighter. “Thank you. I know it might not happen, or that he might be…. But I don’t care. I need to get to Shady Brook.”
“Of course. Let’s get you a rental. I’ll catch up with you later this afternoon,” Nathan said, releasing Sam from the embrace.
“Really?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “No warnings about being safe? No dire predictions about a certain sedan?”
“Well… I do think you should go directly to Shady Brook and stay until I get there.”
Sam was confused for a second before he remembered. “Oh right. The security detail.” They’d made sure to give Tim’s room extra cover, and surely the guard would still be there. He wasn’t going to object to the precaution. Getting killed was not on the agenda for the day.
His brother was depending on him.
Chapter Thirteen
RACHEL, ALEX, and Yuri met him in the care facility’s waiting room, adjacent to the lobby. All three of them looked up anxiously when he entered. Sam stopped in his tracks, surprised to see them.
“Did Nathan call you guys?” It was the only explanation. Sam had spoken with his grandparents in Florida on the drive over, but he almost got pulled over by a cop, so he hadn’t chanced any more calls.
“Yeah. He thought you might need some friends,” said Rachel. She smiled and pulled him into a hug, and Sam hugged her back gratefully. Alex smiled as she watched, twirling a strand of her bleached-blonde hair around her finger.
“Thanks. Have you seen Tim yet?”
“No. They wouldn’t let us into his room without you,” said Yuri as they all started to walk down the hall. “What’s with the security? Does it have to do with your secret trip out of town?”
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
“You’re so damn enigmatic these days.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be. So how goes the parent visit?” he asked Rachel and Alex, buzzing with nerves. He was both excited to see Tim and afraid there hadn’t been any change after all. What if Lisa was wrong?
“My ’rents left this morning,” said Alex. “It’s great to have the place to ourselves again.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Rachel agreed, giving Alex a knowing smile. Sam rolled his eyes.
The guard stationed outside Tim’s door—a burly guy who could have played Zangief in a Street Fighter movie—asked for ID and eyed all of them, including Sam, until Lisa came by and gave them the go-ahead. She was wearing scrubs covered with cats and mice playing poker.
“It’s great you got here so fast,” she said, squeezing Sam’s arm. “I think it’ll help.”
“I hope so.” Sam sidled by the guard and entered the familiar white room behind his friends. The television hanging from the ceiling was on and tuned to a sitcom with a laugh track. Lisa switched it off.
“You might not notice any change right away. He’s been vocalizing a little more each day, but it’s sporadic. Be patient.”
“Okay.”
Sam stared at the figure in the bed. The white hospital sheets were fitted snugly around Tim’s thin body. His brother’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was slightly open, as though he’d been caught midsentence.
“Hey, buddy.” Sam moved closer and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. He could hear his friends settling in the furniture behind him, whispering quietly together, almost like they were in a museum.
He took Tim’s warm hand. It was a man’s hand, not a child’s anymore, though unblemished and pale. If Tim woke up, would he understand how much time had passed? Sam couldn’t imagine the shock of realizing years had vanished without you knowing, but Tim was still young. He had a full life ahead of him.
Sam squeezed his brother’s hand. “I hear you’ve been making a racket. I really want you to wake up, Timbo. I hope you can hear me. I love you.” He felt self-conscious talking with his friends in the room but was glad for their support all the same.
Yuri approached and stood next to the bed. “Hi, Tim,” he said.
Sam squeezed Tim’s hand again, hoping for a response or a reciprocal movement, but there was nothing. He tried to tamp down the disappointment, remembering Lisa’s injunction to be patient.
“Does he look any different to you?” Yuri asked.
Sam squinted. Instead of the usual pale, bloodless color, his brother’s cheeks were slightly rosy. He looked like he was sleeping and could wake any moment. It was enough to give him hope and brush aside some of the initial disappointment. “I think so.”
“Does this mean you’re back in town, in spite of all your weird warnings?” Yuri asked.
“For the time being.”
Yuri smiled, and his cheeks dimpled. “Good. Because I’ve got a big job coming up.”
Sam laughed and punched Yuri’s arm. “So that’s what you’re after. You got it.”
He turned back to Rachel and Alex, who were sitting side by side on two matching hospital chairs. “You guys wanna come say hi?”
Of all his friends, Rachel was the only one who’d known Tim before the accident. She stood on the other side of the bed and brushed Tim’s hair away from his forehead.
“We’re all waiting,” she said. “Whenever you decide the time is right. Your brother needs you.”
Sam swallowed down the raw emotion and stared. He could have sworn he saw Tim move.
NATHAN ARRIVED shortly before visiting hours ended. Sam could feel the concern radiating from him when they embraced.
“How is he? Any change?” Nathan asked.
Sam couldn’t hold back his grin. “He moved his foot. I’ve never seen him do that before.” It happened a little after three o’clock, when Yuri, Rachel, and Alex had left for the day. Sam was reading a book, and he looked up to see his brother’s toes slowly flexing under the blanket. It might not have been a conscious movement, but it was still something. Tim’s body seemed eager to wake up, even if his mind wasn’t quite ready.
Afterward one of the doctors had come in to speak with Sam about Tim’s prognosis. She seemed cautiously optimistic, though she also made it clear they wouldn’t be able to determine the extent of the brain damage or the effect of the long-term coma until Tim was fully conscious. Sam couldn’t wrap his mind around the prospect that it might finally happen.
“I want to go look through his stuff, see if there’s anything in storage worth bringing over here so he won’t feel so weird when he wakes up. Mentally he’ll still be fifteen. The doctors think it might help.” Sam hadn’t visited the storage unit in years. He packed the thing with some help from Rachel, but he
hardly remembered what was in it.
“That’s a great idea.” Nathan’s smile was strained as he looked from Sam to Tim on the bed. Sam realized his mouth had been running a mile a minute.
“Is something wrong? Did you finish up the report?”
“Yes. And my supervisor isn’t exactly happy about it. I think the PD down there will be getting a piece of his mind.”
Sam nodded. “Good.” He was glad Nathan wouldn’t have to keep working on a dead-end case, but he still wondered what Nathan would decide. He hoped he wouldn’t quit his job rashly and regret it. Then again, Nathan didn’t do much without thinking it through.
“What about Eric and Simon?”
“Headed back to Texas. At least Eric is.”
Sam was almost disappointed. He liked the guy, but he supposed they all had to get on with their lives.
“And we’re headed home.”
“Home?” Sam asked.
“Yes. They solved the mystery of the silver sedan. It was Judy White trailing you.”
“The mayor’s wife?” Sam couldn’t believe it.
“Yep. Looks like she’s been sleeping with the city comptroller. The two of them figured out Collins had some dirt on them, and that he’d given it to you before he split.”
Sam frowned. “But there was hardly anything incriminating in those files. White only suspected his wife was having an affair.”
“But she didn’t know that. Tony says she was worried they’d suspect her or her lover in the mayor’s murder if the cops found out about the affair. They were both at the gala.”
“So she decided to run me off the road?” Sam wrinkled his forehead. It seemed a little extreme.
Nathan shrugged. “Love makes people do strange things.”
“More like people will do anything to save their own skin.” Sam was pretty sure love had nothing to do with it.
“Touché.”
SAM FLEXED his muscles, but his arms and legs were tied to the bed, so he could do little more than writhe. On his chest, Nathan had applied two small nipple clamps—stolen from Eric’s bounty—which were tightened to the point of pain. Nathan kissed one, and then the other, and Sam’s cock twitched.
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