by Tinnean
“Yes, it is.”
“I guess it’s only fitting, seeing what he did to his poor wife.” She shook her head. “The only reason why I voted for him was because he was married to her, and her daddy was a good senator. She’s doing better—she’s in a sanitarium, you know—but this is going to be a setback for her. She loved him and always stood by him.”
“It is too bad. I guess love is blind.”
Mark gave me a sharp look, but he needn’t have worried. I wasn’t going to mention that if Elizabeth Wexler’s jealousy hadn’t caused her to have the tires of my mother’s car slashed, my mother wouldn’t have been in an “accident” that had left her in a coma.
“What can I get you boys to drink?”
“Coffee, please.”
“High-test or unleaded?”
“High-test.” Mark was making a wise choice. We’d need the caffeine.
“Okay, I’ll go get that and give you a few minutes to look over the menu.”
“You were right,” I said softly. “It was necessary.” I couldn’t clarify that I was talking about him flipping the car, not where someone could overhear me, but I didn’t need to. He’d know. “But you goddamned well should have told me!”
XXXV
MARK didn’t say much over breakfast, and even less on the drive back to the motel. We’d stripped the beds earlier, and he tossed me the pillowcase filled with the linens.
“Get this done as fast as you can. I want to be out of here by two.” He was in a mood.
Annoyed, I snapped off a salute. “Yes, you said.” I started for the door.
“Quinn.”
“What?”
“You’re gonna need this.” He held up my PDA. “I put the directions to the Laundromat into it last night while you were sleeping.”
I took it from him, wanting to demand if he thought I was so incompetent that I couldn’t find it without his help, but not bothering to.
And just to prove him wrong, I did find it without resorting to my PDA.
XXXVI
I RETURNED from the Laundromat to find the entire cabin wiped down and the twin beds we’d been using pushed back into their original positions. The trash was in the bags from the Chinese restaurant and the hardware store, and stacked by the door.
“We’ll dump the contents in various dumpsters, then drive back through here and chuck the bags,” Mark told me. “No one will be surprised to see them here, or question it. Give me a sheet.”
I handed him a fitted sheet, then took another one and began working on a bed neither of us had used. If it should prove necessary, it would further muddy the scene.
The sheets were so wrinkled from being stuffed into a pillowcase that we didn’t even need to do anything extra.
We left the top sheet and blanket at the bottom of each bed, half on and half off, and while Mark put the suitcases in the trunk and the trash bags in the backseat, I took the towels into the bathroom, dampened them, and left one on the floor and the other draped over the shower rod.
One last thing—wiping down the car—and we were done.
It was two on the dot.
XXXVII
WE ARRIVED at the airport and turned in the car. Fortunately, it was cool enough that the fact we were wearing gloves didn’t cause undo notice.
“Get your carry-on, Quinn.”
I took it from the trunk, relieved that this weekend, as much as I’d demanded it occur, was finally at an end. “Where are we going?”
“You’re going home.” He blew out a breath and turned toward me, and when his eyes met mine, they were flat and expressionless. “I’m going to Costa Rica.”
I felt myself grow cold.
“I’m going with you.”
“You’re not invited.”
“Bullshit.”
For a second I thought he was going to smile, but then his gaze grew even more flat and expressionless. “Mann, I’m telling you—”
“I don’t care what you think you’re telling me. I’m going with you.”
“You….”
I glared at him stubbornly. I knew he wouldn’t start an argument with me in such a public place. It would draw attention to us, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Fine. I don’t know why you think it’s necessary. But….”
I waited for him to say something snarky, like ordering me to just stay the fuck out of his way.
Instead he just repeated, “Fine,” then turned on his heel and headed down the concourse to security.
I stood there for a second, staring after him, before I tightened my lips and followed.
XXXVIII
HERE we were, at our destination, and I wanted to swear or kick something.
I was wearing my undershorts because I hadn’t known we’d be coming here when I packed and there hadn’t been time to purchase a bathing suit. I leaned against a palm tree, staring at my lover as he lay on a blanket on the beach.
He was naked, but there was no one else to see; we were the only people here.
He hadn’t spoken a word to me since we’d left the airport, when he’d simply told me he was flying down to Isla del Placer Escarpado, his island off Costa Rica. He’d made it clear that I wasn’t invited, but that was bullshit. I was going with him whether he liked it or not.
If he was disappointed that I wasn’t what he’d expected, if he wanted to break up with me, I wasn’t going to let him run off as he’d done last spring, leaving behind a fucking Dear Quinton note.
I wasn’t going to let him go, period.
I couldn’t lay all the blame for this at Richard Wexler’s door. Granted he was more than culpable, but I was at fault as well. It was because I’d pushed for it that he had become… incapacitated.
Did Mark think I’d simply used him to see Wexler paid in spades for what he had done to my mother?
I gritted my teeth. All right, I. Had had. Enough.
He’d had a more than adequate amount of time to brood over the fact that I wasn’t just the Ice Man. I was a human being with emotions, and if he didn’t like it—
I stalked to where he was lying and knelt on the blanket beside him. Now that he was within a handsbreadth, I was at a loss. Tentatively, I reached out to touch his hair.
“You’re blocking my sun.”
Well, so much for the gentle approach. “Tough shit.”
A smile flashed across his face.
“What’s so funny?” I growled.
“Quinton Mann, using street language?”
And wasn’t that the crux of the matter? As the scion of the Sebring/Mann line, much was expected of me, but feelings and failings apparently weren’t among them. “Jesus, Mark. I’m… I’m human.”
“Think I don’t know that?” He leaned up on an elbow and pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. “Why’d you come here, Quinn?”
“What? Why the fuck do you think I came here? I—You mean too much to me for me to let you just walk out of my life.”
“Am I supposed to be grateful for that? I’m not a pet, you know, and I’m not one of your mother’s lost causes.”
“My mother’s causes aren’t lost, Mark. And she happens to like you very much. So do my uncles.”
He looked taken aback by that, and once again it struck me how very alone he was.
But he quickly rallied. “Yeah, well, Novotny doesn’t.”
“Will you forget about Gregor? The two of you enjoy sniping at each other, and don’t bother to deny it. I’ve been in the room when both of you go at it, and I’ve been with you when the other wasn’t there. You have a healthy respect for Gregor, and he—”
“Hates my guts.”
“Why am I even discussing this with you?” I knelt there with my hands on my hips and frowned at him.
“Beats hell out of me. I didn’t ask you to come along.”
“And we’re back to that.”
“Look, Mann, I did what you wanted, didn’t I?” Was there desperation in his voice?
“Yes, but—”
“Then I guess that’s it.”
“No, that’s not it! I’m not leaving, Mark, and I’m not letting you walk away from me again. Look, I know I’m not what you bargained for—”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been acting cold—” I had to laugh. If I didn’t, I’d surely rail at the irony of it. The worm had evidently turned when the Ice Man complained of the chill.
“I’ve been acting cold? Are you nuts? You’re the one who’s looked at me as if you’d never seen me before and would be happy if you never saw me again.”
“When?” I demanded.
“In the ambulance, after I got Wexler hooked up to the IV. You’d seen me with my hands around his throat. I wasn’t trying to strangle him, just cutting off the flow of blood to his brain enough to mimic a stroke.”
“Mark, I know you think that because I’m CIA I can’t find my ass with a map and a flashlight, but I did investigate you. I know what you’ve done, and I do know what you’re capable of.” I drew in a breath. “But….”
“I know it bothered you.” He was adamant. “You asked how I could get used to it.”
“I did? When?”
“Before you went to take a shower.”
I opened my mouth to correct his impression, but he rode right over me.
“Didn’t it occur to you that I’d earned my reputation, Quinn? Did you think I was going to give Wexler nothing harsher than a dirty look?”
“I—Excuse me?”
“Wexler’s going to last a while.” He sat up and looked out toward the breakwater. “Not as long as either of us might like, but during that time he’ll be awake and aware and unable to do more than blink. He’ll be tied to that ventilator, and he’ll be at the mercy of any incompetent, sadistic tech who steps on the tubing. And I might as well tell you that I’ve made arrangements for the occasional tech to do that. What I did to him isn’t pretty, but believe me, I won’t lose sleep over it.” He turned his head finally, to meet my eyes. “I guess you weren’t expecting that. I guess you weren’t expecting that someone you let get close to you, close to your mother, could be that conscienceless.”
“Mark, you’re an idiot. What I meant the other night was coming down from the adrenaline high. It’s happened to me once or twice before, and it’s not something I’m used to. I crash hard. And you….” I smacked his arm.
“That’s really what you meant?”
“Asshole. If I didn’t want you touching me, I do have the training and the ability to make you stop.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes, I do.” I glared at him once again. Good grief, was my face going to freeze in that expression? “Although I wouldn’t have to do anything drastic.”
“No? So what would you do?”
“I’d tell you to stop.”
“And I would?”
“Yes!” I let him see how affronted I was. “You care about me. And dammit, Mark!” I smacked his arm again. “I know what you’re capable of. I’ve seen you in action, remember?”
“What? When?”
I would have rolled my eyes, but this was too serious. “In Paris?”
“What do you mean ‘in Paris’? You did all the work.” And he still appeared to be disgruntled about that.
“You almost decapitated Etienne when you garroted him,” I reminded him.
“Well, yeah, but as it turned out, Etienne wasn’t the deadly one. You dealt with that son of a bitch.”
I drew in a breath. “And now you know what I’m capable of as well.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was the one who told you I wanted Wexler taken care of. You wouldn’t have touched him otherwise.”
“I wouldn’t have?” He scowled at me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I scowled back at him. “Because I’d asked you not to, you ass.”
“But then I did touch him.”
“Because I asked you to.” The Ice Man was gone, and I knelt before him, emotionally naked. “When it comes to those I love, I’ll stop at nothing to keep them safe, or to avenge them if they’re….” I couldn’t bear looking into his eyes any longer and turned my head away. “You were expecting the Ice Man, and what you got is—”
“You, Quinn.”
“—someone who let his emotions—” I whipped my head around so fast I almost made myself dizzy. “What? What did you say?”
“I got you.” He shrugged. “All those others…. You’re so much more than the Ice Man, but that was all they saw when they looked at you.”
“And what did you see?”
“You, Quinn,” he repeated. He cupped my cheek, then tipped my chin up. “Their problem was they didn’t know how to melt the ice.”
“And you do.” I remembered the things we’d done. Predictably, and in spite of the situation, my cock grew hard.
“Damn straight. And I’m glad of that.”
“Then why do you keep trying to send me away?”
“I didn’t think…. I was…. That isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?”
He dropped his hand. “Look. Hearing what I can do is different from seeing me do it. I thought that once you had, you’d run, not walk, out of my life.”
“But you did it anyway.”
He shrugged. “You asked me to.”
“Isn’t the man who pulls the trigger as guilty as the bullet, if not more so?”
“Are you calling me a bullet? Jesus, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” He brought his hand back to my cheek and rubbed his thumb over my cheekbone. “And the fact that I did what I did to Wexler isn’t going to change how you feel about me?”
“No, Mark.” I raised a hand in turn to stroke his cheek. “Have we gotten this settled now?”
“You’re not letting me go?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, as long as you can accept that I won’t be letting you go either.”
“I can accept that.”
“Okay. Y’know, it’s getting hot out here. What do you say we take a dip to get this sand off us, then go inside and cool off a bit?” He rose and pulled me to my feet.
“I say that’s a great idea, but….”
“But?”
I grinned at him and started toward the dock, tugging him along after me. “The boat’s a lot closer, Mark.”
XXXIX
WE WERE lounging on the bed in Mark’s condo, our shoes off, a bowl of popcorn between us. He’d swiveled his flat-screen television so we could watch it in here.
John Wayne and Geraldine Page were on the screen. Earlier he’d told her he’d killed her husband, and now he wanted to know if knowing that made a difference in how she felt about him.
And she’d told him no.
I thought of Mark’s words to me on his island, and mine to him.
I nudged his ankle with my foot, and he looked over at me, an eyebrow raised.
“Interesting movie, Hondo. It was my father’s favorite.” I remembered him taking me to see it in a small theater that was doing a retrospective of John Wayne’s westerns from the fifties. I must have been ten or eleven at the time.
“I don’t know if my father ever saw the movie, but that book meant a lot to him.”
I’d learned that. It was interesting that two such dissimilar men could find something that drew them in this movie and the book on which it was based.
I reached over, opened the drawer in the nightstand on my side of the bed—I grinned wryly. I’d always slept on the left side, but since I’d been involved with Mark, I seemed to always be on the ride side.
I removed a package wrapped in birthday paper. “This is a little late. I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Mark.”
He took it and turned it over in his hands. “A book?”
“Yes.”
“Well, no offense, but last year’s b
irthday present was better.”
“That blowjob wasn’t meant to be a gift.”
“But it was.” He began ripping off the paper and didn’t notice the blush I could feel rising to my hairline. “Fuck me!”
“Yes, please.”
“Hondo.” His eyes glittered as he looked at me.
“It’s a paperback, but….”
“This is a first edition!”
“I know your copy was destroyed.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Do we make love now?”
“In a minute.” He put the book aside. “I…. Watch this part.”
“All right.” I took a handful of popcorn.
John Wayne was speaking again, telling Geraldine Page that when the Indians finished their squaw-seeking ceremony, they said one word: varlebena, which meant forever.
I knew I’d heard that word somewhere before. It had been years since I’d last seen Hondo, though. Licking the butter off my thumb and forefinger, I turned my head to gaze at my lover. “Varlebena is what you named your boat.”
“Yeah. I named it that just after I got it.”
“And when was that, Mark?”
“Two summers ago.” He met my eyes. “Right after the Wyman Bros. Warehouse.”
“You knew then?”
“No. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.” He put the book on his nightstand and reached for my hand, twining his fingers with mine.
“Except when it does?” I waited, wondering how he’d respond to that.
“Yeah. Surprised the hell out of me. Know what surprised me even more?”
“No. But you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “That a classy guy like you would go down on me in the men’s room of a restaurant.”
“Well, it was a classy restaurant.” I gave a self-conscious little laugh. “Yes, that surprised the hell out of me too.”
“You hadn’t planned it?”
“Really, Mark! Do you think I’m in the habit of giving members of rival agencies blowjobs?”