by Jaime Samms
Which was fair. Because holding hands. That was what they had been doing. And it wasn’t right. Cobalt had a… a Cal.
He let out a sigh and gazed out his window. He couldn’t even make himself look over to see if Preston cared that he had freed himself. Or maybe didn’t risk looking in case he discovered Preston didn’t care.
“HIV positive,” he blurted.
“I’m sorry, what?” Preston’s tone was edged with… something. Cobalt would have to look at his face to figure out what that dark tone was, but he didn’t dare.
“You know what,” he said, digging his own tone down into the dirt, burying the tiny spark of something before it could ignite and become anything more.
Preston flicked the right turn signal, slowed, and rolled into the store’s lot. He pulled the car into the nearest spot, far from the entrance, then put the car in park. He sat, silent, and eventually Cobalt had to look over at him.
Preston faced forward, stared out the windshield, jaw clenched, hands tight on the wheel.
“I know, yes,” Preston said at last. “Oh, how I know.” He turned just his head to gaze at Cobalt. “I wore out the road between the hospital and your brother’s house the first eight months after you retired. Why do you think it bothers me?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“It’s a condition you have, Cobalt. It’s not who you are.”
“And you know what about it?”
Finally Preston turned bodily to look at him. His gaze, cool and pale as ice chips, locked him in place. “I know enough,” he growled. “I know how it happened. I know you didn’t properly take care of it at first—”
“I didn’t know about it at first.”
Preston’s jaw clenched so hard Cobalt could see it pop. It was a moment before he’d loosened it enough to lick his lips, and another before he spoke. “That is something I am very sure we will only argue about, sir.”
“Sir?” Cobalt’s heart crashed and tripped to a halt, causing a feral ache in his chest. “What?”
Preston closed his eyes, gripped the wheel as he sank into his seat, and Cobalt choked in a few halting breaths before Preston spoke again.
“I have opinions, sir.” He shook himself. “Cobalt. I have opinions about your HIV status that you would not find charitable and that have nothing to do with you being pos, but how you got that way.”
“You really hate Calvin,” Cobalt said, voice thin and cracked.
“I have opinions,” Preston said again.
Cobalt should feel angry that Preston thought he had the right to any opinion at all about his love life or his friends. He definitely should not feel… vindicated? Happy? Thrilled, even? “We should shop,” he said quietly.
“Yes.”
Preston opened his door and got out, and Cobalt followed suit, unwilling to risk backsliding into the employee/rich asshole dynamic. Not today. Not when Preston was showing something besides propriety and decorum. Not when someone other than his two best friends was treating him like another human being and not a fragile flower, an overpriced decoration, or—
His phone buzzed, drawing his attention away from Preston’s backside as he got out of the car. After fishing it out of his hip pocket, he glanced at the screen, and his heart sank.
Of course it was Cal. Now. When he least wanted to talk to him. He put the phone to his ear and managed to force a thin smile into his tone as he answered.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hi.” Cal’s voice was clipped. “Where are you?”
“I—what? Where are you?” He automatically glanced around, half expecting another car to pull into the lot and Calvin to climb out, face set in his habitual mask of perfect disdain.
“Home. Whose shit is all over the kitchen? What’s going on?”
“Home—what?”
“Cobalt. Fo-cus. Whose crap is all over my kitchen table?” There was a faint crash and Cobalt winced, imagining something of Preston’s, some delicate tool or other, hitting the tile floor and breaking into pieces.
“Preston,” he said automatically, falling into line with Cal’s demand. “He’s fixing the window.”
“I can see that, brainiac. Why? Just hire some shmuck.”
“I can’t afford—”
“Bullshit. Call your brother. He’ll shell out.”
Cobalt swallowed down the lump threatening to clog his throat. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said, moving a few more feet from the car as Preston came around to his side. “I can’t—”
“He’ll pay for whatever. You know he will. He pays that gorilla to drive you around and keep tabs on you. They want you back in the fold so bad, why be so stubborn about taking what they have to offer? You’re acting like a spoiled baby.”
Cobalt closed his eyes. This was such an old argument. “Why are you home? I thought you weren’t coming back for another two weeks.”
“Rehearsal space flooded. They gave us a couple days off while they find a new one.”
“And you came home?” Cobalt wanted to be thrilled his boyfriend had decided to take the unexpected time off to see him. He resented feeling like Calvin’s unexpected visit was such an utter surprise, or that he should feel grateful for the attention. That wasn’t how a relationship should work. Was it? A quick glance at Preston, and his stomach turned over.
Preston looked concerned and confused, and Cobalt just knew he would never have this conflict of emotion if it were Preston on the other end of the phone.
Because Preston would be at your side every waking moment, and you know it.
He shut that thought down. “When did you get in?”
“Just walked in the door. Come home.”
Gooseflesh trickled down Cobalt’s back. The tone of command made him tingle, but it tripped his heart and made his hands shake, and it wasn’t the same sensation of settling into the passenger seat of the car at Preston’s bidding. This feeling was a clammy, unsettled one. He swallowed. “I’ll be home in—”
“Now. I need you.”
“For what?”
Calvin snorted. “Get your skinny ass back here, babe, and see.”
“Oh.” Everything inside Cobalt fell, crouching much like Chance in the backseat of the car, cowering in on himself. He glanced again at Preston, whose face had taken on a stony cast. “I’ll tell Preston,” he said quietly.
“You do that.” The line went dead, and Cobalt stared at the phone for a second before shoving it back into his pocket. He squared his shoulders, schooled his features, and ran fingers over the nubbly knit of his shawl. How many cruel reviews had he weathered over the years? How many deeply cutting rumors and innuendoes and scathing gossip columns had he had to ignore? Enough he could surely keep his cool as he ordered Preston back into the car to take him home to Calvin.
Preston didn’t argue, and Cobalt couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed. The drive back to the house was made in silence, Cobalt sitting in the backseat with the confused dog. Preston didn’t question that either. There would be enough speculation about why Preston was escorting him around in his personal vehicle. No need to compound Cal’s inquisition by sitting up front. Calvin might not have grown up with the same advantages Cobalt had, but he clearly understood the line between employer and employee, and in this case, that line was the backseat of the car.
“Here you are, sir,” Preston said as he put the car in park in the driveway. “I’ll just get the door.” He met Cobalt’s gaze in the rearview for a bare heartbeat. Then he got out and came around to Cobalt’s door to let him out.
Chance was having none of it. He sat rooted to the backseat when Cobalt tugged on his leash.
“Oh come on.” Cobalt tugged harder.
Chance tucked his ass up against the far door and stared at him. “Now? You’re going to do this now?”
“Whose car?” Preston asked, indicating the sleek, low-slung sports car in the drive.
“Calvin’s.”
“He drove here from New York?”
“He leaves it at Pearson,” Cobalt said, most of his attention on the dog. “Long-term parking. He doesn’t trust the neighbors.”
Preston snorted and Cobalt shot him a dirty look, because obviously a car like that wasn’t safe in a neighborhood like this one. And hadn’t the neighborhood jackals proven their ill intent the night before?
“Not now,” Cobalt muttered, backing away from the car to let the dog alone for a moment. “Can you get him out?”
“He doesn’t want to come out.”
“Well, he doesn’t have a choice, does he?” Cobalt snapped.
Preston’s feathers remained as sleek and unruffled as if he was standing there in his usual impeccably tailored and immaculate chauffeur’s uniform and not plaid and denim and work boots. “There is always a choice,” he said in that soft but unyielding voice that made heat crawl like a live thing over Cobalt’s body.
“Hm.” Cobalt twisted his lip up into a sideways, pinched smile and straightened his shoulders, because that reaction could not happen. “No, actually. Sometimes you just get shit you don’t want and you have to live with it. Survive. I need my dog out of your car. I need him.”
And how desperate did that sound? He gritted his teeth.
Preston frowned. “I can try.”
But before he managed, Calvin came rushing from the front door and down the steps. He flung the other passenger door open. “Come on, mutt.”
Chance practically fell out of the vehicle, unprepared for the door he’d been leaning on to suddenly move.
“Get in the house.” Cal pointed back at the front door. The wooden screen door flapped closed at that moment with a whine of hinges and a bang against its frame.
Cobalt jumped. Chance bolted.
Preston, moving faster than should have been possible, grabbed the tail end of the leash as Chance whizzed past him. The dog came up short with sharp yelp, then stood staring off down the road, body trembling.
“What the fuck is the matter with him?” Cal grumbled. His words were laden and heavy, but his face was too slack for the anger he dragged over himself. He wore it like a cloak of protection, hiding something more raw beneath. Cobalt could see the other, and for an instant, he thought he should ask about it. Then Cal spoke again.
“Fucking mutt is a pain in my ass. Come on.” He tugged on Cobalt, trying to lead him toward the house, and Cobalt’s moment of concern burned away.
Cobalt’s balled fists hurt, and it was all he could do to keep them at his sides. “Some kids frightened him last night. He got out and ran. He was terrified. He’s still nervous.”
“Obviously. What the fuck? Can we go inside now?”
Preston handed the dog’s leash to Cobalt, but Chance only moved as far as Preston’s side, where he huddled up against his leg with a low whine.
“Fucking neurotic dog, man.” Cal reached for the leash, bringing up a knee when Chance moved to put himself between Cobalt and Calvin. Calvin shoved at the dog’s head, trying to push him aside.
Chance lunged, snapping and snarling, and Preston had to jerk him to a halt again, snatching the leash from Cobalt’s lax fingers. “Easy,” he soothed, putting one hand on the dog’s head, one on Cobalt’s arm to move him back from the protective animal, which was sweet, but unnecessary. Chance would never hurt him in a million years, no matter how scared he was.
“What the hell?” Calvin jumped away, snatching his hand to his chest. “What the fuck! Get that thing away from me!” His eyes were wide with shock, less angry maybe than confused, and once again Cobalt had a flash of concern for the overbearing anger Cal was trying to keep to the fore.
“You have to move more slowly,” Preston said, crouching to soothe Chance with a hand on his ruff. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but he fucking tried!” Cal spat, glancing at his unmarred hand, then glaring at the dog.
Cobalt glanced down at Preston to see his lips pursed and got the feeling Preston hadn’t been talking to Calvin but to the dog.
Chance rubbed the top of his head into Preston’s chest and gave a few high-pitched whimpers.
“You’re okay,” Preston said, rubbing his big hand up and down Chance’s back.
Chance sat between Preston’s knees and hid his face. His sounds stopped and he stilled, but he didn’t seem inclined to move away from Preston. Cobalt didn’t blame him. Preston gave off an air of solid safety. Chance would like that. Hell, Cobalt liked it.
“Come on,” Cal said, breaking Cobalt’s reverie. “He can keep the damn dog.”
“No!” The thought of leaving Chance out of the house, even with Preston, sent a shot of cold into his bones. He needed Chance with him.
“The thing tried to bite me, babe! We are not letting it in the house. If you must keep it, keep it outside. I won’t let that animal in my house.” He turned on his heel, but not before gripping Cobalt’s elbow and dragging him along as he stomped back toward the front door.
My house, Cobalt wanted to scream. My dog. But he followed, unwilling to risk a turned ankle on the uneven paving stones as Cal dragged him to the steps.
“Cobalt!” Preston was on his feet, following, dragging a reluctant Chance after him. But Cobalt couldn’t listen to the dog’s whines and distress or watch him struggle to plant his feet and twist his head out of his collar.
“It’s fine,” Cobalt said. He managed to jerk free of Cal’s hold, but he did follow up one step before he turned to face Preston. “Just take him. You can take him?”
“Of course, sir. As you wish.”
Cobalt flashed a weak smile. “Please. I’ll make sure you get paid for your trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Co—” Cobalt’s mouth twitched, his eyes flashed, and behind Cobalt, on the top step, Calvin grunted. “Sir. No trouble at all.”
There. Done. The dog would be fine with Preston, and Cobalt could deal with Cal. Cobalt turned and walked up the steps, past Calvin, and into the house. Of his own accord. No coercion. Preston had to know there was no coercion, right?
After a moment Calvin followed, and Cobalt listened to the sound of the front door closing, locking, and the chain sliding into place. Cobalt busied himself with removing his shawl and putting the shawl pin away. He took off his boots and avoided looking at Chance’s half-eaten breakfast in his bowl. The dog would be perfectly fine. The least of his worries.
Cobalt turned to face Calvin and tried hard to ignore the chill in his expression. “Welcome home, baby.” He smiled and held out a hand for Calvin’s. “Let me see if you need nursing.”
His stomach twisted at the leer that stole over Cal’s face. “Nursing, huh? That could be interesting.”
Chapter 10
PRESTON STARED at the door. He’d heard the lock click and the chain rattle. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember Cobalt telling him Calvin was expected back in town. Had that been the source of his reluctance to take the longer trip for supplies? Had he wanted to be back in time for his lover?
Lover.
Preston tried to scour that word from his head. A lover didn’t drag a guy around like that, make demands, or forcibly separate him from his dog, who was his source of comfort. A lover didn’t cheat and lie and bring home viruses that ruined careers and cost a man his family and his dignity.
“Fuck!”
Next to him, Chance whined.
“I know, buddy,” Preston whispered, scuffing the fur on the top of the dog’s head. “I know.”
He couldn’t just walk away and leave Cal to think his behavior was okay. He couldn’t let Cobalt think that was okay. Why the hell had the man not turned around, gotten back in Preston’s car, and left with him? Why did he succumb to Cal’s poor regard over and over?
And what the hell was Preston going to do about any of it?
Chance whimpered and pushed closer to him.
“You’re okay.” He glanced down at the dog, who shivered under his palm. “Oh, baby.” Crouching, he cupped the dog’s face. “What is it?”
Chance looked forlornly at the door to his own home, closed and locked, his best friend on the other side. He licked at his lips and pawed at Preston’s knee.
“Well, I can’t leave you here, can I?”
Calvin was not going to let the dog in the house. Preston wasn’t sure he trusted Calvin with the tender patience Chance currently required. And Cobalt was right. They couldn’t leave him tied up outside unsupervised. Even if the neighborhood kids didn’t come back, the dog was traumatized. Tying him and leaving him alone in the place he had so recently been terrorized would scar his psyche. Preston wouldn’t do that to him. If he couldn’t look after Cobalt how he wanted, he could at least look after his dog.
“Come on.” Standing, he gave the leash a light tug. Chance remained where he sat, gaze alternating between Preston and the house. He clearly didn’t want to leave.
“We have to go for now, Chay. You heard him. He gave us an order.”
Chance whined and lay down on his belly, paws outstretched.
“Oh no.” Preston bent to grip his collar and haul him back up. “We have to leave. Come on.” He began to walk, giving the dog no choice but to walk with him or be dragged. For a sickening moment, he thought the dog would continue to defy him, but then Chance fell in close beside him. Preston heaved a sigh of relief. Chance was just a tiny bit too large to be picked up and carried any distance. Last night he’d had the backing of three hefty guys on the other end of the ropes supporting him and the dog, as well as a healthy infusion of adrenaline in his system. Today he had only his own brute strength and an antsy dog. He didn’t want to take the chance.
When they reached the car, however, Chance jumped into the backseat as soon as the door had opened wide enough to admit him. By the time Preston had settled in the driver’s seat, Chance had stopped whining, though he curled in on himself and shivered as Preston backed out of the drive.
There was nothing for him to do at that point but go home, change, and wait for five o’clock or Azure to call, whichever came first. Having the morning off to help Cobalt had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the routine of driving Azure might soothe his nerves. So go home he did, and began the ritual of donning his uniform and the simple peace of mind that came with knowing his place for at least the next couple of hours.