Walk a Mile
Page 26
John came around to the side of the chair, squatting so he was at Lee’s level. “Hey. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, the really important stuff keeps coming up again. Trust me, if it’s something you need to know, you’ll remember it or it will remind you. One way or the other.”
“You sure?” Lee heard the doubt in his voice. For the briefest of moments, he saw a flash of movement behind him, and himself shielding his head as a baseball bat came crashing down. Reflexively, he lifted his left arm, only to catch his breath at the pain in his shoulder.
“Hey. Look at me.” John touched him on the arm. “It’s okay. I went through something similar a while back. I was shot during a case, and for months afterward, I’d jump every time I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.”
His smile was meant to be reassuring. But it was kind of creepy the way he so often seemed to know what Lee was thinking.
Inexplicably, John’s smile broadened, and he placed a hand on Lee’s jaw, gently turning his chin in John’s direction. “I love you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”
He rose so he could lean across the chair, bending down to brush Lee’s lips with his. The kiss, which had started out gentle and reassuring, quickly escalated into more as Lee found himself hungry for John’s new-but-familiar touch. John seemed to feel it too, breathing hard as he pressed closer, holding Lee’s head carefully as he kissed him repeatedly, each kiss growing longer, deeper, and more urgent.
He held Lee’s gaze a long moment as the elevator came to a stop. When the doors opened, he matter-of-factly released the brakes and wheeled Lee into the lobby.
John pushed the chair through the glass doors and out to the round receiving area, where cars could pick up and discharge patients. “You want to wait here while I get the car, or can you walk?”
“I’ll walk, thanks.”
They collected Lee’s things, locked the chair, and left it in receiving.
Lee heard piteous yowling coming from the dark blue sedan as they approached it. The windows were slightly rolled down, presumably for some air. The car was parked next to a tree in the only bit of shade in the entire lot.
Lee shielded his eyes with one hand so he could look in the window. “Jeez. Are we going to have to listen to that the whole drive home? Did you remember to use some of that kitty feel-good pheromone spray on them?”
“Hey!” John was obviously pleased. “You remembered something!”
Lee straightened to shoot him a dark glare. “Yes, yes, I remembered something. On the grand scale of things, this is the equivalent of the giant pointing out to the Man in Black that he just wiggled his little finger. All when they are about to storm the castle.”
John bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I see you had time to watch some movies while you were in the hospital.”
“Yes. What are we going to do about this?” Lee pointed at the backseat of the car, where the feline crying was reaching ear-splitting levels.
John leaned over and put his lips near the crack in the window. “You guys need to be quiet. Lee has a headache. We’ll be home soon, and then I’ll let you out.”
Miraculously, the cats fell silent.
“What are you, some kind of Cat Whisperer?” Lee asked as John unlocked and opened the passenger door for him.
“Something like that.” John sounded terribly amused and pleased with himself. Lee wondered what John wasn’t telling him.
John closed the door and went around to the driver’s side to get in. Hands on the wheel, he turned to Lee. “You okay?”
“As okay as I’m gonna be right now.”
“That’s my Leeloo.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” John was smirking as he started the engine. “I think it’s cute. It suits you. You’re the one that wanted to be called Lee, you know.”
“I remember,” Lee said repressively. He waited a beat and then held up his FBI badge. “Multipass,” he said in a stilted voice.
John brayed like a donkey.
Score! Lee smiled as John struggled to regain control. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to dye my hair orange.” The skimpy white straps that had passed for Leeloo’s clothing, however, he could probably be talked into.
“No, I wouldn’t hear of it. You dying your hair, I mean.” John’s eyes were brimming with laughter, but Lee thought he detected a touch of sorrow in them as well. It felt like Lee had only gotten half the joke.
He knew nothing about this man. The thought mocked him, tried to frighten him once more. That wasn’t entirely true, however. He knew this man had sat beside his hospital bed, waiting for him to recover. No one else had been there. Maybe there was no one else in Lee’s life. A wave of exhaustion swept over him, and he closed his eyes. He could feel John’s mouth on his as surely as if they were still kissing, could feel the unexpected softness of his full lips, the rasp of stubble present on his jaw despite his having shaved earlier that day. He’d chosen to trust this man, come what may. He wasn’t going to back out of it now.
“The sooner we get you home and into bed, the better.” John started the engine.
“Promises, promises,” said Lee.
John shot him a sly, sideways glance that made him look surprisingly like a satyr. “To sleep,” he said, suppressing laughter. He looked over his shoulder as he backed out of the lot.
One of the cats in the back let out a plaintive meow.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” John said, but whether he was talking to the cat or to Lee, it wasn’t clear. With one hand on the wheel and his gaze directed at the road, he held out his other hand across the car seat to Lee.
“I know,” Lee said, and took John’s hand. The squeeze of John’s fingers at the contact was solid and anchoring, the only reality Lee could count on.
About the Author
SARAH MADISON is a veterinarian with a large dog, an even bigger horse, too many cats, and a very patient boyfriend. When she’s in the middle of a chapter, she relies on the smoke detector to tell her when dinner is ready. She writes because it’s cheaper than therapy.
If you want to make her day, e-mail her and tell you how much you like her stories.
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