by J. P. Bowie
“Really?” Nick smiled and shrugged as he positioned himself so that Eric was blocked from Garcia’s sight. “I think your son, Joseph, would argue that point with you. He was willing to die for Sam.” He flicked his bound wrists at Eric.
“Be silent!” Garcia leveled the gun at Nick’s chest. “I told you to never speak of that again. You will not cast shame on his memory with this filth.”
“Sorry you see it that way, Garcia.” Nick could feel Eric tugging on the rope knots. “They really did love each other, you know.” He flexed his wrists as the rope came loose, but kept his hands behind his back.
“Enough,” Garcia barked. “I tire of this. Both of you, stand together.”
His lips parted in a smile that made Eric shudder. Garcia’s finger tightened on the trigger and Eric closed his eyes, waiting for the shot that would end his life. He moved closer to Nick. A flurry of movement beside him and he opened his eyes as he felt himself being pushed violently to one side. He sprawled across the table, which collapsed under his weight. He rolled over onto his back and saw Garcia and Nick struggling hand-to-hand. He leapt to his feet, looking around for something to arm himself with.
The ear-splitting crack of a gunshot resounded through the room and shattered the glass of the French doors that led to the terrace. Garcia swung the gun at Nick’s head. His greater weight bore down on Nick, forcing him to the floor, but Nick hooked his arms around Garcia’s legs and brought him crashing down. The gun fell from his grasp and skittered across the wood floor. Garcia reached to grab it but Eric kicked it away and Nick threw himself on top of Garcia, inflicting a painful headlock on the larger man. Garcia writhed and bucked beneath Nick, his hands clawing at Nick’s arms and head, but still he could not free himself.
Eric picked up the gun. “Okay,” he yelled. “That’s enough Nick, I’ve got him covered.” Nick relaxed his grip and rolled away from Garcia, who struggled to his feet, cursing. He moved toward Eric, but Nick jumped in between them, taking the gun from Eric and aiming it squarely at Garcia’s head.
“Don’t make me return the favor,” he said through clenched teeth. “Although killing you would be the best bet all round. Eric, our cell phones are up on that mantelpiece. Call 9-1-1 and have them send a squad car to pick up Mr. Garcia here.”
With an agility that belied his size and weight, Garcia spun on his heel and charged at Eric, trying to cut him off. The two of them crashed to the floor, then Garcia was on his feet, holding Eric in a stranglehold in front of him.
“Drop the gun Fallon, or I’ll break his neck.”
Nick did not drop the gun, but advanced on Garcia, the gun held firmly in both his hands and aimed directly at Garcia’s face. “I’ll kill you before you can make a move,” he yelled. “Let him go—now!”
Garcia screamed with rage. Using all his immense strength, he picked Eric up off the floor and flung him at Nick. Nick felt all the wind being knocked out of him as Eric’s body slammed into his. Instinctively, he closed his arms around Eric to protect him from further injury, and he took all of his weight on top of himself as they both thudded to the ground. They heard the sound of splintering wood, of breaking glass, and when they struggled to their feet, thoroughly winded, Garcia was gone.
“Christ!” Nick ran to the French doors that were now hanging off their hinges. He raced out onto the terrace, gun at the ready.
“Nick, be careful,” Eric yelled, running after him. He grabbed Nick’s arm. “He could be anywhere out here—”
“Sssh, listen.” From somewhere behind them, they heard a car door slam and then the squeal of tires as a car sped off back down the hill. “Son-of-a-bitch,” Nick muttered, running back through the living room and up the steps to the street. “He’s taken my fucking car!” he ranted, looking at the spot where he’d parked.
“We can use mine.”
Nick looked at Eric grimly. “Keys?”
“Oh, Jeez.”
“Right. He’s got those too.” His shoulders slumped. “Okay, time to call in the cavalry.”
§ § § §
Detective Louis McKenna walked silently around the room for a few moments, before turning to face Nick and Eric. “So, you’re saying you were held here by Francisco Garcia, the escaped convict from Pennsylvania state penitentiary.”
“That’s right.” Nick felt a twinge of impatience at McKenna’s skeptical tone. “What… you don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying? I called you because Jeff Stevens always speaks highly of you, Detective.”
“That’s why you dragged me out of bed at one-thirty in the morning?”
“Okay, McKenna.” Nick threw his hands up in disgust. “I’ve told you the history between Garcia and me, how he killed my ex-partner Andy Hawkins just a couple of weeks ago, how he duped Eric into coming up here, knowing he could just wait for me to show up and finish me off.”
“But it didn’t work out that way.”
“No, because the son-of-a-bitch is just a deal too arrogant—and this time he underestimated the maricóns he hates so much.”
“Maricóns? What the hell is that?”
“It means faggots, McKenna.” Nick put his arm around Eric’s shoulders and pulled him close. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
McKenna blinked then looked away. “Yeah, I know.” He cleared his throat, then looked back at Nick. “So, you managed to escape.”
“No, Garcia managed to escape, McKenna. Thanks to Eric, I’m not lying stretched out on this floor with a bullet in my head.”
“So, knowing that you were walking into a trap, why didn’t you call me earlier? I could have had backup here to arrest him.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t call you,” Nick interrupted. “If he’d seen me arriving with a bunch of cops, he’d have killed Eric on the spot.”
McKenna’s expression was grim. “So now he’s in your car, heading God-knows-where. Or do you have some idea where he might go?”
Nick shrugged. “Garcia’s not familiar with Southern California, but I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that he mapped out this area as soon as he got here. He wouldn’t leave himself without an escape route. I’d also bet he has a contact here he can rely on, someone who’ll give him shelter, till he either gets out of the country, or he has another crack at me.”
“At least he’s unarmed,” McKenna said, looking at the revolver Nick had handed him when he arrived at the house.
“Not for long,” Nick remarked. “Like I said, he’s bound to have someone out there he can go to for help.”
“Right.” McKenna pocketed the weapon. “Okay, I’ll pass on this information to the FBI and let them deal with it. Meanwhile, I’ll take you guys home, and I’ll talk to surveillance to get you some protection. What make of car are we looking for?”
“A 2006 BMW sports, light blue and silver.”
“Okay, I’ll put in a stolen car report.”
“Thanks McKenna,” Nick said, then added, “I’d appreciate there being someone keeping an eye on the gallery where Eric works.”
“What about you?” Eric asked. “It’s you he really wants.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
“Wait.” Eric grasped his arm. “You can’t be serious. Surely you’re not going to set yourself up for another confrontation with that maniac.”
“Your buddy’s right, Fallon,” McKenna said. “And I can’t be allowing you to put yourself in harm’s way.”
Nick glared at him. “Someone’s got to stop this bastard.”
“Then let the police do it.” Eric gripped his arm harder. “Nick, he almost killed us in there.”
Nick turned his gaze on Eric and saw the concern and fear in his eyes. He sighed with resignation. “Okay, let’s go home. We’ll come back in the morning and pick up your car.”
McKenna stared at him for a moment as if he was wondering why he’d caved so easily. Nick avoided the detective’s gaze, op
ened the door of McKenna’s car and climbed in. Eric slid in alongside him, his eyes never leaving Nick’s face. He knew Nick’s mind was set on catching Garcia and he knew he wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. He also knew Nick had made it look like he’d given up for McKenna’s benefit. He wasn’t about to have the cop stop him from pursuing Garcia. Eric felt himself tremble at the thought of Nick and Garcia coming face-to-face again. He had to admit he’d never been as scared as when Garcia had him in that choke hold. The man was a cold-blooded killer and Eric was convinced he would not rest until he had finished what he had set out to do.
Nick turned to look at him but remained silent as McKenna drove them through the darkened streets toward their apartment. “We’re on Cleo,” he told the detective, his voice strangely flat. “You know it?”
McKenna nodded. “Off Glenneyre, right?”
“Right,” Eric said. “If you just drop us at the corner, that’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later they watched the taillights of McKenna’s car disappear onto Coast Highway. Together, they walked slowly toward their apartment building. Eric reached for Nick’s hand and felt gratified by the gentle squeeze on his fingers.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“I’ll get you a pain-killer when we get home.”
Nick nodded, but said nothing.
“Say something, Nick.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“Yeah, I do.” Nick paused at the bottom of the steps that led to their apartment. “No key, right?”
“There’s one under the plant pot by the door.”
Nick raised an eyebrow at Eric, then walked up the steps ahead of him. He fished the key from under the pot and opened the door. “This is not a good idea, Eric.”
“I know. It’s just that I’ve locked myself out so many times, I figured I had to have backup.”
“Anyway,” Nick closed and locked the door then turned to face him. “Like I was saying, I am sorry for what you’ve been through tonight.”
“Nick, it’s all right.”
“No, Eric it’s not all right.”
“Let me get you that pain-killer.” Eric made for the kitchen where he got a glass of water and a pill bottle from one of the cabinets. “Here…” He watched as Nick swallowed the pill.
“Listen to me, Eric.” Nick’s face was etched with pain as he spoke. “No one should have to go through what you did tonight—no one. No one should have to be drugged by a madman, held at gunpoint and threatened with torture. No one, least of all you. I put you in danger and I hate myself for it. I almost lost you and—” He broke off and looked away. “And I would never have been able to forgive myself.”
“Nick.” Eric stepped toward him and put his arms around him. “None of that was your fault. I’m the one who walked into the trap. I shouldn’t have been so damned eager to sell that painting. I should’ve checked his ID or something.”
“None of that should have been necessary,” Nick interrupted. He gripped Eric’s arms and pushed him gently away. “Don’t you see, that’s the whole point? If it wasn’t for my involvement with Garcia, your life would never have been in danger. You’d be working in the gallery, doing your thing, seeing your friends for lunch and a laugh. Living a normal life without a fucking homicidal creep trying to off you at every turn.”
“Nick, what the hell are you talking about? Where are you going with this?”
“I’m saying you’d be better off without me.”
“What?” Eric looked at him, appalled.
“I mean it. I’m no good for you. I have no right to put you in harm’s way.”
“Stop this.” Eric reached for him, but Nick evaded his touch and walked quickly into the bedroom. Eric hurried after him. “Don’t walk away in the middle of this,” he said, his voice rising in anger. “You can’t just say that kind of stuff and then walk away.”
“Eric…” Nick turned to look at him with tortured eyes. “Don’t you see where this is going? Garcia is out there somewhere, planning round two. He will never rest till one of us is dead—him or me. You can’t be a part of that.”
“But I’m already a part of it, dammit!” Eric’s eyes blazed with anger as he stared back at Nick. “I was a part of what happened tonight, wasn’t I? Or did I just dream all that? Oh, that’s what it must have been—a dream. It didn’t really happen to me at all. I wasn’t there!”
“Eric, stop.”
“No, you stop, and listen to me, Nick Fallon. I love you. Do you understand what that means?”
“Of course I—”
“Shut up, and listen for a change!”
Nick almost took a step back as Eric advanced on him and he braced himself for the slug he felt sure was coming from Eric’s clenched fist. He had never seen Eric look this mad. And Nick couldn’t blame him for feeling this way. If it made Eric feel better to punch him on the nose after what he’d been through, so be it. Eric’s face was mere inches from Nick’s as he glared up at him, breathing heavily. Nick wanted to pull him into his arms and hold him until his anger was spent; but wisely, he felt that just might be the wrong move to make at this moment.
“One night last week,” Eric said, his voice thick with emotion, “You gave me an ultimatum that if I didn’t do what you thought was best, we were through. Now I’m telling you this, Nick—if you try to ease me out of your life because you think I can’t handle what’s going on in our lives right now, I will hound you and stalk you to the ends of the earth. You are not going to save me by breaking off our relationship. Try it, and I’ll go after Garcia myself!”
“Eric,” Nick gasped. “For God’s sake, you don’t know what you’re saying. Garcia is a madman. A doubly pissed off madman since we managed to mess up his plan to kill us both.”
“That’s right, Nick, to kill both of us. You’re not in this thing by yourself anymore. Whether you like it or not, I’m a part of it. So, don’t you see that we need each other more now than we ever did? I know you think that by leaving me, you’re protecting me, but you’re wrong about that. Garcia knows who I am, where I work, and he knows he can get to you through me. Apart from one another, we’re vulnerable. Together, we stand a chance, just like we did tonight. This is not the time for you to act all noble and go off on your own to avoid involving me in whatever Garcia’s cooking up.” Eric paused and touched Nick’s face gently with his fingertips. “I need you here with me. That way we can keep each other safe.”
Nick sighed as he reached for Eric’s hand and pressed it to his lips. Eric moved into his arms and they stood for a long time, simply holding one another. Loath though he was to admit it, Nick knew Eric was right. Whether he liked it or not, Eric was as involved in this sorry mess as much as he was. He groaned as the realization of what that meant gripped him with a sickening force.
Eric tightened his arms around him. “I love you, Nick. Please don’t ask me to go.”
“How could I?” Nick whispered. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking of me, and how best to protect me.” Eric smiled into his eyes. “That’s just one reason why I love you so much. Just promise me you won’t go after Garcia alone.”
“I promise.”
Their mouths met in a soul-searing kiss that made them forget the lateness of the hour, or the fact that they were exhausted by the strain of earlier events. All that mattered at that moment was the need to consummate their love for one another.
“We should shower,” Nick mumbled as they fell on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Later…” Eric tore at Nick’s shirt buttons. “Right now, I want you on top of me, all over me, inside me, all hot and naked.”
In a moment, their clothes were flung away, and their bodies were joined in a sexual frenzy so intense, the memory of it would linger in both their minds long after it was over. The smell of Nick’s sweat, overlain with a slight, lingering trace
of the musk cologne he favored, inflamed Eric’s senses to such a degree he felt that his lust could never be sated—not even if they made love all week. His lips and tongue strayed from Nick’s mouth and sought every part of his hard, lean, muscular body. Grasping Nick’s erection, he captured it in his mouth, running his tongue up and down the full length of the pulsing shaft.
Nick gasped as the sensations Eric created brought him very close to the brink of ejaculation. He pulled Eric up into his arms and lathed the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Eric’s hips moved against Nick’s groin to a sensuous rhythm; their arms encircled each other, locking their bodies together in the scorching heat of their passion. Eric’s legs were around Nick’s waist, pulling him in even closer, fusing their bodies until they became as one. Beneath him, Nick felt Eric’s body arch and grow taut as a bowstring. His arms encircled Nick’s neck, bringing their lips together at the moment of his orgasm.