Lost Souls

by AJ Lange

  “Nah, I got it, Gav,” Levon said, brushing Gavin aside with a meaty paw. Levon Russell was six foot six inches of bulky muscle, skin as dark as good chocolate, his smooth bald head slick and shining in the midday sun. His navy t-shirt strained over his bulging chest and biceps.

  Gavin whistled. “Think you’ve gone a little soft, Lee.”

  Levon snorted, now standing at the end of the bed, studying the pale, dark-haired figure waiting there. He wagged a finger in Gavin’s direction. “I done told you boy, you don’t want Levon to kick your ass. They’d be sortin’ the pieces of you for weeks.”

  Gavin chuckled and crossed to stand between the beds, eyes shifting nervously between the two men. “Levon, this is my,” he hesitated and felt his cheeks flush. “My best friend, Matthew. Matt, this is Levon, baddest ass motherfucker you never want to meet in a dark alley outside a Nashville bar.”

  “Unless you’re getting the shit kicked out of you by some mangy hooker,” Levon replied drily, one eyebrow rising toward his cleanly shaven skull.

  Gavin cleared his throat. “It was two hookers, douchebag,” he muttered.

  Levon laughed, a joyful sound that bounced off the low roof. He set the red box at his feet. “I’ve missed you, Gav.” He clamped his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, and Gavin winced. He was never sure if Levon simply didn’t know his own strength, or if he was fucking with him because it amused him.

  “Now get the fuck outta my way so I can get a closer look at the mess your boyfriend got himself into.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes, but allowed the man to swap places with him. He should have known he couldn’t fool Levon, and that his old friend wouldn’t give two shits about the fact that macho homicide detective, Gavin DeLuca, was fucking gone on a writer with an angel’s face named Matt.

  He hovered while Levon peeled the t-shirt back, gingerly touching the skin at the base of the metal strip.

  “You did good, not removing it. Many a good soul have suffered a torn artery because someone yanked an impaled object loose.”

  Gavin shifted closer. “Artery?” He asked weakly, worry evident in his voice. He focused on Matt’s face, newly pale in the lamplight as Levon prodded the wound.

  “Stop hovering,” Levon intoned, kneeling in front of Matt. He reached into his kit and withdrew a measuring tape. He began to measure the wound and Matt’s shoulder, chest and back.

  “What are you doing?” Gavin asked, feeling utterly useless.

  “Having tea with the Queen of England, what’s it look like I’m doing?”

  Gavin bit his tongue on a retort. Levon’s head was nearly to Gavin’s nipples and the man was on his knees. Levon cut an intimidating figure and Gavin had no doubt he would totally kick his ass if he got in the way. Oh, he would still treat Matt; he would just beat the shit out of Gavin afterwards.

  Levon set the measuring tape down and gazed solemnly into Matt’s eyes. “You’re a lucky fucker, you know that?”

  Matt glanced at Gavin, holding his gaze when he spoke. “I’ve had my fair share.”

  Gavin’s insides warmed.

  Levon snorted. “I don’t mean your grand gay love affair, Nancy.” He pointed a large index finger at the oozing wound in Matt’s chest. “I’m talking about this little piece you got poked with. It couldn’t have been more carefully placed to do the least damage if it tried.”

  Gavin exhaled a long breath. He felt a little dizzy from the relief pouring through him and he had to sit on the opposite bed.

  Levon looked at him over his shoulder and shook his head, grinning. “Pussy.”

  “Shut up,” Gavin breathed, heart still racing. “So you can get it out?”

  Levon frowned and turned back to Matt. “It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. And it’s going to be a really slow process; your subclavian artery is close enough to make me a little worried. I nick that and we’re fucked.”

  The medical terminology rolled off of Levon’s tongue like he was born saying it, and Gavin remembered how his friend once told him all he had ever wanted to do was be a doctor. He had had to settle for the Army and EMT school instead; such was the life of a poor, black, country boy from Tennessee.

  “Just do it,” Matt said through gritted teeth.

  Levon patted his knee. “Okay.” He stood and gestured to the bottle on the nightstand. “Pour him another drink, hotshot. And make mine a double.”

  “No drinking on the job,” Gavin replied, steeling himself for Levon’s wrath.

  The other man surprised him with a jovial laugh. “Just testing you, Gav.” He winked. “You passed.” He disappeared into the bathroom and Gavin could hear the tub running.

  “What are you doing,” Gavin called. He shifted his feet nervously while he poured Matt another drink. Matt’s face was grim when he accepted it. Gavin wished like hell it was him preparing to have a razor-sharp piece of metal ripped from his chest; he would give anything to trade places with Matt right now.

  “I’m guessing this is going to be a bit messy,” Levon said wryly, poking his head around of the bathroom door. “Unless you want the cleaning lady to think a murder occurred here tonight and get yo ass into even more trouble with the law up north.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Once again, Levon, Kansas is hardly north.”

  “Well excuse me,” Levon huffed from the bathroom, dragging the words into multiple syllables. “What do you want me to call it then, up middle? That sounds like a damn sex trick those internet porn stars advertise. Make yourself useful and bring the boyfriend in here.”

  Gavin laughed, helping Matt to his feet. He pressed a quick kiss to Matt’s dry lips. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear.

  Matt’s mouth lazily grazed his cheek as he pulled away. His eyes were glassy now; he was well on his way to smashed.

  “Bring my case, too,” Levon ordered.

  Gavin sighed. “Can you make it, babe?”

  Matt nodded but his movements were slow and jerky as he walked slowly around the bed to the bathroom door. Gavin was glad when Levon came out and put a gentle arm around Matt’s waist.

  Gavin grabbed the large red case (it was heavier than it looked and he grunted when he lifted it), and the two bags of supplies he had purchased at the pharmacy, just in case.

  Levon dug through the bags first, after helping Matt sit on the closed toilet.

  “Should he take a couple of those,” Gavin asked, waving at the painkillers.

  “Uh uh,” Levon shook his head. “Blood thinner. We need him to clot.”

  Gavin blanched.

  “You’re not gonna hurl are you? Because I might need your assistance and I really don’t want to do this with the smell of puke perfumin’ the air.”

  Gavin swallowed and shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”

  Matt smiled in spite of himself and Gavin jabbed a finger in his direction.

  “Not a word,” he warned.

  Matt held up a hand to pacify him, but Gavin could see the way he bit his lip that he was holding back a grin.

  Levon turned suddenly, having arranged a number of bottles, bandages and a suture kit on the sink’s countertop.

  “Take off your belt, Gavin. ”

  “Say what?” Gavin’s eyes bugged.

  “So he can bite into it, dipshit. This ain’t exactly going to be a picnic. And the best I can do for painkiller is some hydrocodone the doc gave me for my back last time I threw it out.”

  Gavin’s eyes sparkled in merriment and he opened his mouth to comment, but slammed it shut at Levon’s black look.

  “I’d give you two now, let them get started workin’, but mixed with that whiskey probably ain’t the best course of action. It might make you nauseous. So I’m going to wait until that’s out.” He held up a syringe filled with clear liquid. “Tetanus booster and a shot of antibiotic.” He glanced at Gavin. “Don’t ask.”

  Gavin held up his hands. “Nope.” He caught the prescription bottle of pills on reflex when Levon tossed it to him. He read t
he label carefully and placed the bottle on the counter by the door.

  “As soon as we’ve got him bandaged and he’s ready for bed, give him two of them. Then every four to six hours for pain as he needs them.”

  Gavin nodded.

  “Ok then,” Levon clapped his hands together. “Are we ready?”

  “Oh shit,” Matt muttered, closing his eyes. “I was really hoping I’d be passed out by now.”

  Levon chuckled. “Sorry, little buddy. The best I can promise is that I’ll be as gentle as I can.” His eyes were solemn when they met Matt’s . “But look on the bright side: there’s a good chance you’ll pass out in the middle.”

  Levon was as good as his word. He and Gavin cut the rest of Matt’s shirt away and then Gavin helped clean and disinfect the area surrounding the entry point, and another six inches outside of that. Levon instructed Gavin to sit behind Matt on the toilet tank, hold his arms in place so he didn’t inadvertently cause further damage by grabbing for the metal, or for Levon.

  After that, it was bad.

  Gavin held on for all he was worth, Matt’s entire body rigid with the agony of having the strip of metal slicing through his chest. It was brutally slow going; Levon was determined to keep the shard at the exact angle of entry, because it had so neatly missed any important veins, arteries, or bone. That didn’t make it any easier on Matt, however, who ground his teeth against the leather between his lips, unable to stop the guttural groans that escaped.

  He sagged back against Gavin when Levon announced quietly, “Okay. It’s out.”

  Gavin couldn’t have stood up if he tried. He held onto Matt, wrapped around him, face planted in the back of his neck, breathing deep the sour-tinged smell of sweat on his skin.

  Levon worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and disinfecting the wound, then set about stitching it up, in two layers. He grunted when he was finished tying off the knots. “Lean back, Gav, he might need a stitch at the exit.”

  Gavin had forgotten all about the smaller wound on Matt’s back. It had bled at first, clotting to Matt’s t-shirt, but all of the moving around from car to motel had forced the sliver of metal back through his chest enough the point had no longer protruded. The wound looked red and ugly, but mostly sealed now.

  “Hmmm.” Levon mumbled to himself. “I’ll put a butterfly on it, just in case. Let me disinfect it.”

  Gavin leaned back against the toilet tank, fingers still resting on Matt’s hips. He watched Levon’s large hands, so gentle and secure in their movements as they cleaned and bandaged the laceration on Matt’s back.

  Afterwards, he washed his hands in the sink, the bathroom silent save their joint breathing and the water rushing from the faucet. Levon dried his hands on a towel and grinned at Gavin in the mirror.

  “I’m proud of you, DeLuca.”

  Gavin laughed huskily. “Shut up, Levon.”

  “Take two of these painkillers, Matt. But lay off the booze for the rest of the night, okay?” He held out the bottle to Gavin who took it with shaking fingers. “You, however, need a drink.”

  They helped Matt back into the bed, Levon turning away solicitously while Gavin removed Matt’s jeans. He turned back before Gavin got him under the covers, however, and handed him a syringe.

  “Uh uh,” Gavin shook his head. “No way.”

  Levon rolled his eyes. “Then scoot out of the way dickweed so your boy don’t get tetanus.”

  Gavin moved aside, and he closed his eyes when Levon plunged the needle into Matt’s bare hip. Matt mumbled a protest into his pillow.

  “You’ll thank me when your jaw don’t lock up permanently,” Levon chuckled. He smoothed the sheet back up over Matt’s chest, and Gavin smiled when his friend brushed a hand over Matt’s hair.

  “Thank you, Levon.”

  The other man shrugged. “I owed you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Levon smiled a sad smile. “Yeah, I did, but no matter. We’re even now.” He walked back to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. “I’m going to clean up in here. You pour me that drink, you hear?”

  Gavin nodded. He grabbed the bottle of Jack and poured them each two fingers. He shook two pills from the prescription bottle and opened the bottled water provided on the nightstand from their ‘hostess, Maria’. He supposed that was a fancy way of saying ‘maid’. Thank you, Maria, he thought, pouring Matt a glass of water.

  “Matt,” he murmured, smoothing a hand down his exposed arm. “Take these, baby, before you go to sleep.”

  “Mmnph,” Matt’s face was still smashed against his pillow, where he had turned over for Levon’s shot.

  “Just one swallow, and I swear I’ll leave you alone,” Gavin cajoled.

  Matt moaned lightly, rolling gingerly up on an elbow. His eyelids were at half-mast, and it was sexier than it had any right to be, especially since his entire left shoulder was covered in gauze and bandages. “That’s a likely story, coming from you.”

  It took Gavin a minute to get the joke and he snorted. “Crude. Glad to see your sense of humor is intact.” He handed him the pills, scooting closer so he could hold him up while he sipped the water.

  When Matt had settled against the pillow again, Gavin leaned over and kissed him softly. It was a kiss full of apology and despair and longing; everything Gavin had felt today pulsing between them. When he pulled away, Matt was smiling. “What?”

  “You’re the best fucking kisser of life.”

  Gavin laughed softly. “And you’re drunk off your ass. But I’ll take the compliment.” He squeezed Matt’s hand. “Go to sleep. I’m going to help Levon clean up.”

  Gavin stood at the door, trying to think of a way to thank his old friend; he may have just saved Matt’s life. That meant they weren’t even; Gavin would owe Levon forever for that.

  “Stop whatever damned fool notion you’ve got rolling around in your head like a bucket of rocks,” Levon warned, noting the look in Gavin’s eyes. “Just take care of yourself.” He nodded toward the sleeping figure in the bed. “And Matt. Call me if you need anything.”

  Gavin clasped his hand, pulling the larger man into a hard hug. “Thanks, Levon.” He slapped his back a few times, good, hard thumps. “You big old softie,” he couldn’t help throwing in.

  “Don’t push it, DeLuca,” Levon growled, but he winked as he pulled the door closed behind him.

  Gavin stood between the beds and uncapped the whiskey. He sat down on the empty second mattress, taking a pull from the bottle. He watched Matt sleep for several long moments, the rise and fall of his chest soothing in its even rhythm. His skin was pale above the sheet, even against the white of the bandage.

  His skin prickled with awareness and he glanced up to find smoky blue eyes staring back at him.

  “You should c’mere,” Matt whispered, words still slurring from the whiskey and the hydrocodone.

  Gavin took another drink and capped the bottle. He shucked his jeans when he stood and peeled his t-shirt over his head, flipping off the lamp. He went around the bed and slid under the covers, moving carefully into place against the body already curling into him.

  “I’d really like to fuck you right now,” Matt murmured, eyes falling closed again.

  Gavin huffed into his shoulder, lips mouthing the rounded joint, trailing down the smooth skin of his bicep. “Is that the whiskey or the pills talking?”

  “It’s my dick.” Matt managed around a yawn. His fingers skated across Gavin’s stomach when he reached between them, causing the muscles to jump and quiver. He found Gavin’s hand and laced their fingers. “And it’s my heart,” he added in a whisper.

  Gavin squeezed his hand. “Both of mine are in complete agreement,” he said quietly, kissing Matt’s temple. “But just sleep for a few hours. We need to get back on the road.”

  Gavin waited until Matt’s breathing had evened out, his mouth falling open slightly, lips slack, before he carefully got out of bed. He pulled his jeans back on and dug a pen and pad of
paper from the corner desk’s small drawer. He wasn’t going to sleep, he was too wired up; he might as well get to work.

  He texted Dom after turning his phone on silent, relieved when his partner immediately texted back. He left the motel room quietly and stood barefoot in the parking lot, staring up at the stars and letting his oldest friend vent, worry and fear and frustration heavy in his voice. Gavin caught him up on Melanie’s grave and Matt’s injury. They ended the call no closer to solving anything than when it had started, but both feeling better with the connection. Gavin promised Dom they would find Gina, told him to just hang on.

  When he went back into the room, he sat down at the desk. He drew a timeline, jotting down all of the facts as Matt had given them to him, trying to find a pattern, thinking of Melanie Bodine and all of the young women pinned to a corkboard in a storage building in Parkville, Kansas.

  And now, Gina’s photo had become one of those; her smiling face on the wall of a precinct somewhere, the victim, possibly just a number to some of those who would work her case. She would be stripped down to the barest details of her identity: hair and eye color, height, weight, hobbies, profession.

  Gina was a statistic now, and Gavin by God was going to do everything in his power to get her back.

  He looked back to the man asleep in the motel bed. No. They were going to get her back. Matt was the key to this puzzle. Gavin just had to find the lock.

  Chapter 13

  Gavin unlocked the motel door, pushing it slowly open with one hand. In his other he held a drink carrier, a fast food bag squeezed precariously between his fingers. The bed was empty and he felt a rush of panic.

  “Matt?” He kicked the door behind him and hastily set the bag and drinks on the desk.

  “In here.” Matt’s head appeared around the bathroom door. His eyes were bleary and the bandage on his shoulder showed fresh blood.

  Gavin crossed the room in a few, long strides, hands immediately reaching for him when he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” He fretted, trying not to let the way Matt sagged against him worry him overmuch.