by Stormy Glenn
Ours?
I could only be so lucky.
“It’s nice to meet you, Race.” He held out a hand. “I’m Adam Bozeman.”
Race rose to shake his hand, but before he could, his attention went to something beyond Adam’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Confused, Adam turned, and then the world fell out from beneath his feet.
“Michael?”
Chapter Three
Stunned, Michael Ryan stared at the one man he never thought to see again. Adam was supposed to be in the city, not in Cade Creek.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a rough voice.
“You’re alive,” Adam whispered as the color drained from his face. “How are you alive?”
Mike frowned. He hadn’t known Adam knew about the gun battle he’d been in when rescuing Race from a crazy ex. “It was just a flesh wound.”
“But, they said…” Adam swallowed so hard, it looked painful. “They said you were dead.”
“They were wrong.”
Clearly.
“And who are they?” Mike wasn’t exactly undercover at the moment, but it was never a good thing if people were talking about him since he was a DEA agent.
“The police.” Adam’s eyes roamed over every inch of him as if the man was cataloging all of him, looking for injuries. “They came to the apartment and told me you were dead, killed in a shooting.” Adam stepped forward and his hands came out as if he wanted to touch Mike. He pulled them back just before they could connect. “I thought you were dead.”
“Oh.” Mike blew out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing to be worried about.”
The skin between Adam’s eyes pulled together. “It’s nothing to be worried about?”
“Well, no.” Mike stepped past Adam and took his seat next to Ari. After the way things had ended between them, he wasn’t ready for the man to touch him. “We all have cover stories in case we get into trouble and have to get out of town in a hurry. You know that.”
If anything, Adam seemed more confused. “Why would you have to get out of town in a hurry?”
Mike wasn’t about to discuss the case he had been working on. He doubted Adam had a high enough security clearance, and even if he did, without permission from his superiors, Mike wasn’t talking.
Mike didn’t understand why Adam was so upset. He knew how these things went. His actions back in the city were a clear testament of that. Mike shrugged as he reached for his beer. “I just did.”
“That’s it?” Adam’s face clouded. “That’s all you have to say?”
Mike thought everything that needed to be said had been said when Adam told him to get lost. He wasn’t going to rehash everything here and now, and especially not in front of a bunch of people.
“What would you like me to say?”
A red flush rose up in Adam’s face. “Fuck you, Michael.”
Mike felt anger unfurl in his gut. He didn’t understand why Adam was so mad at him. “Been there, done that.” Mike plucked at the material covering his chest. “Bought the T-shirt.”
He knew he was being a bastard. The gasps that sounded around him didn’t need to tell him that. But the anger surging through him at Adam’s accusing glare was more than he could stand. For Adam to stand there and pretend to be the injured party was pure crap.
“Oh my god,” Adam whispered. “I can’t believe I spent six months mourning you.”
What?
“What in the hell are you talking about, Adam?”
Adam’s nostrils flared as he shook his head. “Fuck you, Michael,” he said as he took a step back. “If that really is your name.”
He spun and stormed across the room and out the door before Mike could stop him. Mike stared after him with his mouth hanging open. He wasn’t sure if the feelings burning a hole in his gut came from anger or confusion.
He didn’t understand why Adam was so upset. He truly didn’t. Adam was the one who’d kicked him to the curb. What right did the man have to get pissy with him? He reminded Mike of his parents when they didn’t get their way. They became pissy, as well.
Mike had already washed his hands of his parents and their upper-crust lifestyle, and he had been glad to get rid of it all. The fancy cars, the mansion, the private jet, even the summer place in the Hamptons. Money meant nothing when he was under the thumb of another.
He never dreamed he’d be up against something like that with Adam. Oh, there might not have been any money involved, but the principles were the same. Adam didn’t like him being a DEA agent and had decided to kick him to the curb.
So be it.
Mike firmed his jaw and turned back to the table. His eyebrows rose when he found himself the recipient of five angry glares. “What?”
Russ stood up without a word, pulling Jonny with him, and headed for the same door Adam had stormed out of. A moment later, Ari, Vinnie, and Race stood, as well. Ari and Race walked away, but Vinnie planted both of his hands on the table and leaned in real close to Mike.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you don’t play it here and you don’t play it with that man. The Bozeman family is just as much a part of Cade Creek as the Blaecleahs. You fuck with one of them, and you fuck with all of us.”
Vinnie stalked away, leaving Mike feeling as if he had just walked into the Twilight Zone. In what part of this was he the bad guy? Mike took a sip of his beer and then stared down at the label, not really seeing it.
He knew he and Adam hadn’t had that long to build anything serious between them in the months they had been seeing each other, but he had still felt an ache in the center of his chest when Adam wasn’t there anymore.
Seeing him again was almost as painful. He had thought that part of his life was over. The heartache that filled his chest since they’d stopped seeing each other had been one of the reasons he had stayed in Cade Creek after getting shot. Adam didn’t live here anymore, and Mike had wanted to be just a little closer to the man, even if it was from a distance.
He couldn’t believe Adam was back or that the man was blaming him for their breakup. It just made no sense. He had begged Adam to come see him in the hospital. He had left message after message. He had begged to see Adam.
Adam never came. He never even called. He just left a letter at the front desk of Mike’s apartment building, telling him it was over. After learning everything about Mike and what he did for the DEA, including Mike’s investigation of the illegal drugs running through the veterinarian clinic where he interned, Adam had wanted nothing to do with him.
Mike tightened his hand around his beer bottle as red-hot fury ignited in his gut and burned through him like a raging wild fire. When the bottle broke in his hand, slicing into his palm, Mike didn’t even wince. The pain was secondary to his anger.
He grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them against the cut when blood welled out of it. It was probably going to need stitches. One of the cuts was pretty deep. A trip to the hospital was just how he wanted to spend the rest of his evening.
Mike made sure all of the glass was piled in one place and then got up and headed for the bar. The napkins were already drenched. He’d need something else to stop the bleeding until he could get to the emergency room.
“Hey, Harvey, you got a clean towel back there I can use? My beer bottle broke.”
“Fuck, man.” Harvey reached under the counter, coming up with a stack of towels before hurrying over to Mike. “Mike, that looks deep.”
“Yeah.” Mike tried to keep his voice steady as Harvey applied pressure to the towel he placed over the cut. “I think I’m going to need stitches.”
“I’d say so.”
“Sorry about the mess on the table.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Harvey waved his barkeeper over. “Dixie, I’m going to drive Mike to the emergency room. Make sure his table is cleared up. His beer bottle broke.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Keep pressure on that,�
� Harvey said as he came out from behind the bar.
Mike held his hand over the towel, making sure to press down. He didn’t know if it was blood loss or everything that had transpired tonight, but his mind was swirling. He was starting to have trouble connecting one thought to another.
“Get in, Mike,” Harvey said when they reached the man’s truck.
“My car.”
“I’ll bring you back for your car.”
Mike climbed into the truck and buckled himself in. The ride to the hospital was silent. Harvey wasn’t much of a talker, and Mike didn’t have much to talk about. When they reached the emergency room, Mike glanced at Harvey.
“I can take it from here.”
“You sure?” Harvey asked. “I don’t mind staying.”
“Naw, I’m good and it’s just stitches.” He held up his injured hand. “It won’t take long for them to sew me up.”
“What about your car?”
“Can I leave it in your parking lot until tomorrow? I can find someone to bring me out to get it.”
“Yeah, that would be fine. I’ll keep an eye on it.”
“Thanks.” Mike turned to open the door and climb out. “And thanks for driving me in.”
Harvey sent him one of his rare smiles. “All part of the service we provide at Harvey’s Hooligans and Hair-Raising Experiences.”
Mike chuckled as he closed the door. He stepped back, watched Harvey drive off, and then turned and walked through the glass doors of the emergency room. The place seemed relatively empty, which was always a good thing.
“Hey, Sammy. I need to see the doc.”
“Mike.” Sammy Helmond frowned when he saw the bloody rag wrapped around Mike’s hand. “What happened?”
“Beer bottle broke and cut into my hand.”
“Okay, let’s get you in the back. I’ll bring the paperwork to you.”
“Thanks.” Mike followed Sammy to a cubicle in the back. He climbed up onto the exam bed and held his hand out.
“What have we got today, Sammy?” another nurse asked as he walked in.
“Hey, Pat. Mike here cut his hand on a beer bottle.”
“Hmm.” It didn’t hurt when Pat unwrapped the towels, but it sure as shit did when the nurse started probing the lacerations. “Well, I think you’re going to need a few stitches to close this long one up, but the rest can be closed with butterfly Band-Aids.” The nurse glanced up, meeting Mike’s eyes. “Are you up on your tetanus shots?”
Mike nodded. “I’m current on all my shots.”
One thing he could say about the Drug Enforcement Administration, they had good health care. He might be on a leave of absence from his regular duties due to his recent injuries, but he was still covered.
Mike clamped his jaw closed tight to keep from crying out as Pat cleaned the wound and prepared it for stitches. When the nurse gave him a shot to numb the area up, Mike was ready to kiss the man’s feet. By the time the doctor walked in, he felt as if his hand was numb up to his wrist.
“Good evening, I’m Dr. Sutherland.” The man made a quick glance at Mike’s hand and then reached for some gloves. “This shouldn’t take much time at all.”
“I have the tray here, Doctor.”
“Thank you, Pat.”
There was something perverse in watching the doctor sew his skin back together. Mike was kind of surprised he wasn’t grossed out by the whole process. He was impressed with how straight and neat the stitches were.
“You look like you might have done this a time or two, Doc.”
The man glanced up for a moment, his lips twitching before he went back to what he was doing. “Once or twice.”
By the time the doctor made the last stitch and then wrapped up his hand, Mike’s head was woozy and aching. He could feel a migraine of epic proportions coming on. Still, when the doctor asked him if he wanted pain medication, Mike turned him down. He didn’t like taking anything that messed with his ability to deal with the world.
“Keep it clean and dry for the next forty-eight hours. Change the bandage at least twice a day, and if it starts to look redder than usual, get back here.”
Mike nodded.
“And if you change your mind about those pain meds, call me.”
“I won’t, Doc, but thanks.”
The sun was starting to come up by the time he walked out the emergency room doors. Mike took a moment to look up at the sky. The mixture of colors was awe-inspiring. Different hues of blues mixed with orange, red, and pink spread across the morning sky, broken up by fluffy white clouds.
Mike stared for a moment more before starting walking the three blocks to the house he was renting. It had once been Fire Chief Jack Helmond’s place, but he had moved in with his husband, Chester, quite possibly the best chef on the planet. Or at least, everyone in Cade Creek thought so. Mike couldn’t necessarily disagree. Chester was a pretty damn good cook.
He also made these fantastic, mouthwatering muffins, which he sold at Kapheri’s Koffee Korner. Mike smiled as he turned away from his house and headed for the middle of town. A good cup of decaf coffee and a muffin was a good way to end the crap night he’d had.
The line was small when he arrived, only a few people. It was still pretty early, but Mike wasn’t fooled. He jumped into line as soon as he walked in the door. He knew the place would soon be filled with people coming and going as they headed to work.
After ordering a cup of decaf and a fresh blueberry muffin, Mike walked with his purchases to the park across the street. He could have kept going and headed home, but the early morning quiet appealed to him. It helped clear his head.
Unfortunately, that led to him to start thinking about Adam once again. Something felt off about the whole thing, but damned if he could figure out what it was. Adam was way too angry, especially for a man who had basically told Mike to fuck off.
Mike thought about the letter Adam had left at the front desk of his apartment building. It had been simple and to the point. He wanted nothing to do with Mike. Numerous phone calls had gone unanswered, to the point Mike had finally stopped calling.
Was Adam still angry over learning that Mike was a DEA agent? Mike hadn’t lied about what he did, but he hadn’t told the full truth either. “I work in law enforcement” wasn’t exactly a good description of what he did.
Mike hadn’t been allowed to tell Adam the full truth. As much as he wished he had broken that rule when they were together, with the way Adam was reacting to him, he was glad he hadn’t. There’s no telling what Adam might have done.
He knew Adam wasn’t a criminal. He’d been investigated inside and out while Mike had been looking into the sale of drugs through the clinic Adam had been interning in. But a lack of a criminal record didn’t mean the guy was trustworthy.
It made Mike sick to his stomach to think he couldn’t trust Adam. They might have been in the early stages of their relationship, but Mike had hoped it would go somewhere. Now, he was almost glad he hadn’t said anything.
Mike finished his coffee and muffin and then dumped the garbage into the garbage can. He started to walk through the park when he spotted a silver SUV drive around the corner at a high rate of speed and then screech to a stop in front of the coffee shop.
It normally wouldn’t have caught his attention, but the three men who jumped out and rushed inside were armed. Mike had been on the job long enough to recognize the bulges under their jackets.
He started in that direction, walking slowly so not garner any attention. There were other people out and about, just not a lot of them. When the blinds went down over the front windows and someone flipped the open sign to closed, Mike knew there was trouble.
He slid his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Sheriff John Riley. Since he’d had to come into Cade Creek to solve a crime months earlier, Mike had the man’s direct number. Hell, seventy-five percent of the population in town had the man’s direct number.
“Hello?”
At least the man w
as awake.
“Sheriff, this is Mike Ryan. We have trouble down at Kapheri’s Koffee Korner. Three armed men. They’re driving a silver SUV.” Mike craned his neck to get a better look. “California license plate 5PFG845.”
“Hostages?”
“I was in there ten minutes ago, and I remember five people including the clerk behind the counter. I don’t know who may have left or shown up since then. I was in the park drinking my coffee and not really paying attention.”
“Are you armed?”
“Of course.” Mike might have been on a leave of absence due to the injuries he sustained while rescuing Race, but that didn’t mean he had stopped being an officer of the law.
Just one problem.
“My hand is injured, Sheriff. I’m not sure how good I’m going to be with a gun.”
“Noted.”
Mike heard the sheriff say something to someone else, but it was muffled. “Sheriff?”
“Yancy and I are on the way, Mike. Yancy is calling in my deputies now. Wait for us, but keep an eye on the scene. If things get hairy, call me.”
“Just hurry.” Mike hung up and slid the phone into his pocket. He didn’t want to draw his gun unless he absolutely had to. But he also didn’t want anyone to be hurt or for the bad guys to get away.
Mike walked at a casual pace until the SUV was between him and the front of the coffee shop, and then he ducked down and hurried across the street. Squatting down, he unscrewed the valve stem cap and let the air out of the back tire before moving to the front and doing the same thing. He couldn’t get to the tires on the other side, but this might slow them down long enough for the sheriff to catch them.
Mike moved back across the street and then stood. He once again tried to walk casually as he made his way across down the sidewalk. He wished he still had his cup of coffee so he at least looked as if he had a good reason for being in the area.
When Mike saw Gus Fletcher walking across the street from his feed and seed store, he knew he had to do something. Mike plastered a smile on his face, waved his hand, and called out to Gus as though they were old friends. They knew each other, but they weren’t bosom buddies.