Line in the Shadow

by Clancy Nacht

  Rex had been so lonely overseas, so tired, and it couldn’t be that wrong to let Ike make it all go away with his hands and tongue and his cock inside Rex driving out every anxious thought. Could it?

  Tears stung Rex’s eyes before he put the longing on lockdown and suppressed all the weak, human things that Ike brought to the fore in him. In a voice that sounded steadier than Rex felt, he replied, “You could say that.”

  He took a step back, withdrawing from the temptation to play make-believe here in his pretty hotel room with his pretty friend. Rex’s jaws worked silently for a few moments before he could get his voice behind his words. “That man at the house this morning... He’s dangerous, Ike. Promise me you won’t go back there.”

  For a moment, Ike looked disappointed, like he thought Rex was just a jealous lover. Then, as Ike puzzled through it, he paled. His jaw dropped. “Oh.”

  Ike took a deep breath and steadied himself. “My tools...but I guess I can get more. It’s not worth....” He shook his head. “Wow. I mean, wow. Like a terrorist? No, I know you can’t tell me. Just wow.”

  “This is becoming problematic.” Rex swallowed the bile creeping into his throat and held his facial muscles in an expression of implacable resolve. “Being associated with me is placing you in unnecessary danger. You’ve been attacked once, and as long as it remained an isolated incident, I just...”

  Rex trailed off, his emotions battering the walls he’d put up to keep them back. He had to meditate for a few seconds with his eyes closed to shore up his defenses. Then he looked into Ike’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry, Ike.”

  Ike blinked. His expression went from unfocused shock to clear misery. “Rex, I can take care of myself. I don’t mean to be such a burden.”

  The word, as it came out of his mouth, appeared to weigh Ike down and kill his resolve to fight. His gaze dropped to the floor. He released his grip on Rex, chest heaving. “Right. You have your job to do.”

  Rex hadn’t expected Ike to be so upset about it. In hindsight, it had been foolish to lead with the implicit promise of sex. Telling Ike he was out of a job, in grave danger, and not getting laid could only result in that kind of disappointment. It took all Rex’s resolve not to offer Ike one last fuck.

  Trying to sound jovial, Rex said, “Don’t look so down. Maybe your next booty call won’t be James Bond, but at least he’ll be less likely to get you killed.”

  The short distance between them felt insurmountable suddenly. Though Ike was still within arm’s length, Rex felt as though he’d never again be able to reach out and touch him. He frowned, his face contorting with grief for a split second before he wrestled it under control. Then he said, “I’ll miss you, Ike. Stay safe, okay?”

  “Booty call?” Ike’s face flushed and his eyes glistened wetly. His lips twitched, but he said nothing. Taking a step back, Ike shook his head and looked everywhere but at Rex, like he was searching for something he might’ve left behind. Then he turned around and started for the door. After a couple of steps, he stopped, took a deep breath, and looked over his shoulder.

  Again his lips twitched, but he remained silent.

  Rex wished Ike would say something, that he’d give Rex something to carry with him, but Ike seemed too shocked even to make his way out. Against his better judgment, Rex started toward him, covering the ground rapidly and pulling Ike into his arms. Ike seemed startled, then clung and kissed Rex hard enough to bruise his lips. Rex responded instinctively, his tongue delving into Ike’s mouth, his hands pulling Ike’s hair and sliding down his back as if he could gather Ike any closer against him.

  Ike pressed Rex’s back against the wall and all but crushed him. Then he broke the kiss and stared into Rex’s eyes, looking again like he wanted to say something. After a breathless moment, his expression crumpled. He shook his head again and touched Rex’s kiss-stung lips softly as he withdrew.

  Then Ike exhaled and seemed to deflate. “I should go.”

  Rex ached with the need to feel Ike’s skin on his. His ass clenched around nothing. His fingers tangled in Ike’s hair to keep him from pulling away again. Their gazes locked, and Rex felt such a rush of love that it choked him, like his heart was trying to fly out through his mouth.

  He swallowed hard and shivered, biting back words for fear he’d beg Ike to stay. It took all his concentration to loosen his grip and release Ike. Finally Rex nodded. There was nothing else to do.

  Ike cupped the side of Rex’s face briefly and then kissed Rex’s forehead. “You keep yourself safe, too. Thanksgiving is coming up. Door is always open, okay?”

  Rex wanted to cry. He didn’t deserve that kind of forgiveness. Though his expression didn’t change, his stomach tightened into a hard knot. “I won’t forget you.”

  It was all he could say.

  Ike flinched, then let out a bitter half-chuckle. “Yeah, okay. You know where to find me.”

  Then he was gone.

  After the door closed, Rex locked it. His hands and legs felt leaden, his chest hollow, and his brain hot. Somewhere in the city, Heather and Piper were going about their lives, separate forever now from Rex. And somewhere in the city, Ike and Kaylee would do the same.

  Alone, Rex set his security measures in order. He minded the old habits and the new. He checked and double-checked. Then he went into the bedroom, sat on the edge of the mattress, and fell apart, one eye on the clock.

  After five minutes, he locked it down. Five minutes was enough time to release the harmful stress chemicals. He blew his nose, dried his eyes, and called Masters. No matter what Masters said, Rex had only one mission now: to rain hell on Broekner and all his friends, salt and burn their carefully cultivated fields of operation, and destroy every goddamn contact they had in the entire U.S. government.

  When Rex was finished, they’d wish he’d just killed them.

  Chapter 10

  “C’mon, dad, get up!”

  Ike opened his eyes and looked at the clock. There was no avoiding it now. He’d promised his parents to bring Kaylee over for Christmas.

  After spending Thanksgiving waiting and wanting Rex to show up, Ike was determined not to spend the day staring out the window, hoping.

  Vincent had been their only guest for the dinner itself. There were no more reports of bugs. Ike was afraid to ask if the government was still watching him because maybe it wasn’t.

  More to the point, maybe Rex wasn’t watching him.

  Even though Ike suspected Rex—who saw their relationship as nothing but a booty call with James Bond—had only said Oliver was dangerous as an excuse to slip away, Ike hadn’t gone back even to retrieve his tools. Oliver never called, but someone had left Ike’s toolbox in front of his door three days later. It had been a relief; Ike didn’t have enough room in his budget for both Kaylee’s Christmas and new tools.

  Of course, agreeing to visit his parents also supplemented his Christmas budget, as they were likely to spoil her. She’d been angling for an iPad, which was far beyond Ike’s means, but they’d gotten her one.

  He rolled onto his back and took in a deep breath. Just breathe.

  But it was more than facing his parents giving Ike trouble. Facing life had grown impossible. Jobs often thinned over the holidays. People didn’t want contractors banging around and deconstructing their dining rooms at that time of the year, and it was too cold to do much work outside with snow piling up.

  It was all Ike could do lately to drag himself out of bed and see Kaylee off to school, but he’d managed, somehow. Even so, she was worried about him. He couldn’t fake contentment well enough to fool his smart girl, and she’d grown so concerned she’d even called Nate.

  Opportunist that Nate was, he came right over.

  They’d spent a few nights jamming, which had perked up Ike enough to start arranging more jobs for after the first of the year. The coffee shop owner called to invite Ike to come back for another gig. Apparently, he’d been impressed because this time he wanted to book Ike for Ne
w Year’s Eve like a major attraction.

  That news renewed Nate’s interest in getting the band back together—as well as his interest in seducing Ike.

  Again, Ike was considering it. Christmas would be another particularly low point for being alone. But hey, maybe another gig would lead to another random affair.

  The thought of anyone new nauseated Ike. He sat up in bed and raked his hands through his hair.

  That wasn’t what he needed. Another affair, another man to fuck with him, give him hope, and leave. Of course, it was entirely possible Rex had been in real trouble. If the danger to Ike had been real, it made sense that Rex called things off.

  Sound reasoning was cold comfort.

  When it came down to it, Ike was lonely. He hadn’t even realized how much until Rex came into his life. Now that space had been made in Ike’s heart, the void made him feel broken.

  There was, of course, one man who was always there. Who always had been there, if only for his own purposes.

  Nate had taken plenty of lovers, whether Ike wanted him or not, he remained an option. He and Kaylee didn’t get along, but at least he wouldn’t try to raise her. And there were honestly worse things than getting the band back together. Music was the only thing that made sense to Ike lately.

  Ike got out of bed and headed to the shower. None of this mattered right now. He just needed to make it through the day.

  The solid, conservative front door of the Graves house opened to reveal the solid, conservative patriarch of the Graves family.

  “Kaylee!” Ike’s dad, Lincoln, displayed rare warmth as he leaned down, looked her in the eye, and handed her a peppermint candy. “Merry Christmas.”

  Then he straightened, a faint wince furrowing his white brows as he stared Ike down. As if resigned to his lot in life, he nodded and said, “Eisenhower,” by way of greeting before stepping back and leaving room for Ike and Kaylee to slip inside out of the cold.

  Kaylee wrapped her fingers around the candy and looked up at Ike uncertainly. She’d never spent much time with her grandparents other than the odd visit when they took her to the zoo or museum. She’d never particularly liked those occasions, probably because Lincoln could never keep his mouth shut about politics and his mother Adelaide fretted aloud about Ike going to hell.

  Kaylee had seemed surprised Ike wanted to visit Connecticut for Christmas, but she hadn’t protested. Her wry smile at the candy suggested she was learning to cope with her grandparents in the traditional Graves style. “Hey, Grandpa.”

  Ike sidestepped his father, who made no attempt to greet him beyond the quick address. “Lincoln.”

  The stern nod and calling out of their names sounded like the change of the Republican guard. Manly, presidential, and without so much as a touch exchanged.

  Kaylee stepped inside to greet Adelaide with a big hug as the older woman exclaimed about how much she’d grown. Adelaide nestled Kaylee under her arm, snuggling the girl oppressively as she turned to look at her son. “Lincoln, give the boy some room!”

  “I’m giving him room, Addy. What do you want me to do? Go in the den?” Lincoln looked at Adelaide, lowered his brows, and then turned on his heel to go into the other room.

  As soon as he disappeared, Adelaide steered Kaylee closer to Ike and whispered, “Are you sick? You don’t look well. Have you been tested for the AIDS recently?”

  Despite the softness of her voice, Lincoln reappeared in the doorway a moment later looking like a thundercloud. “What are you talking about the AIDS for, Addy?” He rounded on Ike but didn’t get any closer. “Do you have the AIDS, son? You know, I told you that’s what happens when you choose to partake in these immoral ‘deathstyles.’ I told him. Didn’t I tell him, Addy?”

  Before Ike could say anything, his mother was patting Kaylee’s arm and saying reassuringly, “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll take care of you.”

  “No, he doesn’t have AIDS. He got stabbed!” Kaylee squirmed away from her grandmother.

  Ike was too shocked to laugh or snap at anyone. It was one thing for them to lay into him. It was another when they did it in front of Kaylee. As she darted back to his side, he put his arm around her.

  “I’m fine.”

  Adelaide looked taken aback, but Lincoln’s stony expression hadn’t changed. It was Adelaide who cleared her throat and fluffed her apron with fidgeting hands, sending small puffs of flour from her Christmas baking into the air.

  “Well, I’ve made hot chocolate! Would you like some hot chocolate, Kaylee? I sent Lincoln out special to buy mini marshmallows!”

  Lincoln gave Adelaide a look that suggested he thought she was simple-minded. Then he looked at Ike and asked, “Did you get stabbed because you’re a queer?”

  “It’s good to see you, Dad. Really.” Ike sighed and patted Kaylee’s arm to send her off to get some hot chocolate.

  Kaylee looked up at Ike as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave him alone, but he gave her a nod, and she grudgingly went. Ike took that brief reprieve to figure out what to say. It hadn’t occurred to him to bring up the stabbing. He hadn’t thought they’d care.

  It reminded him again of losing the man who’d saved his life that night. Rex never explained why the attacker tried to kill Ike and only gave him the man’s name when Ike begged for some information, any information about it. For all Ike knew, it had been a hate crime, but he didn’t think so. The circumstances didn’t add up.

  Ike considered saying he’d had his medical bills paid for by the U.S. government as a matter of national security, but he could only imagine the fuss that would ultimately cause. “It was just someone trying to mug me. I guess they never heard the phrase ‘starving musician’. But don’t worry, Kaylee wasn’t with me.”

  Lincoln grunted like he didn’t quite believe Ike. In the heavy pause before Lincoln spoke, Adelaide’s voice drifted from the kitchen saying, “Isn’t the whipped topping fun? It just whizzes right out of the nozzle! Here, you try.”

  Then Lincoln shook his head, seeming for the moment like he belonged in that house even less than Ike did. “Didn’t leave Kaylee home alone or...with those friends of yours, did you? If you’re ready to admit you can’t raise her on your own and sign over custody to us, we’ll raise her properly. You just say the word. I’ll pay court costs.”

  Fox News was blaring from the den and suddenly Ike felt overwhelmed. This had been such a colossal mistake. He wanted to say something horrible that would make his father regret asking. But he didn’t want to jeopardize Kaylee’s Christmas because Lincoln’s inquiries made Ike feel that surge of teenage rebellion that caused him to flee the house in the first place. “The neighbors were watching her. She’s fine. She’s thinking of taking up women’s tennis. Or golfing. What do you think? Should I let her?”

  Lincoln narrowed his eyes and took a step toward Ike like he might hit him. Instead, he bellowed, “Addy, I’m going to the recliner. You bring me some of that cocoa.” Then he turned and retreated with an air of aggrieved dignity, leaving Ike staring at his empty air.

  From the other room, Adelaide called, “I’ll have Kaylee bring it!”

  Ike heard his mom’s too-cheery voice saying, “Kay, honey, please carry this mug in to your grandpa. He’s not feeling his best. Your shiny happy face should perk him right up!”

  Now he’d done it. What in the world made Ike think he was prepared for this? He folded his arms, preparing for the real assault.

  Apparently, his family thought not being able to afford an iPad meant Ike was failing as a parent. They’d never believed that Ike would simmer down to take care of her in the first place.

  Ike himself hadn’t been sure if he could do it, but his dedication to his sister and devotion to his now-daughter had kept him from going completely off the deep end. Even now, having Kaylee to look after was keeping him out of trouble.

  But was he good for her?

  Adelaide emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of cocoa. She offered one to Ike with a decep
tively sweet smile. “Why don’t we have a seat in the breakfast nook, honey?”

  She guided Ike toward the small table with its two chairs and took the one facing the door to the den. Maybe Lincoln didn’t see it, but Adelaide was anything but simple. She sipped her cocoa and reached out to grasp Ike’s hand. “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me you’d been attacked? After what happened to Sylvia, it’s more important than ever that we all look out for each other.”

  Ike eyed the mug. She’d always made the best hot chocolate, but there would be a cost, like there was for everything. Still, she was his mother; it was instinct to answer. “It wasn’t life threatening. A friend was there, and he got me to the hospital and got Kaylee to me. I didn’t think it was something you’d want to hear.”

  Or care about. Neither of his parents had attended his sister’s funeral even though she’d died driving back from their place. As much guilt as Ike carried over the situation, surely his parents had to feel something too, but if they did, they’d never said.

  Adelaide looked as if she’d been slapped. “Why do you say such awful things? I’m your mother! Of course I want to hear. You and Sylvia, two peas in a pod. Secretive, deceitful children. Where did I go wrong? I tried to bring you two up right, bring you to church, show you the way you should go...”

  The self-pity and martyrdom in Adelaide’s tone eroded Ike’s mood, but she seemed ignorant of her effect on him. “I love you, Eisenhower. I don’t know why you assume I have anything but your best interests at heart.”

  “Church breeds deceit. Makes people feel guilty for being who they are so they learn to hide it. Not a whole lot of Christianity to be found in most churches.” Ike frowned, hating that he’d let her get to him so quickly. He looked out the window.

  Deceitful children? They’d had to be. Ike’s entire identity was an affront to the church. Sylvia…. Well, her sins were smaller; she fell for a young man whose skin was darker than hers. That was hardly a scandal anywhere but in the Graves home. She’d had to sneak out, meet with her boyfriend in the dead of night, hide secret messages under a bridge when they couldn’t meet. The whole experience set her up quite well for a life of spying.