by Kelsey Hodge
I cannot help but ask, “Really?” Just as he replies, I see Liam respond.
>Good.
“Do you honestly think I can go home after what you told me?”
I can’t believe I say this but, “Stay because you want to, not because you feel you have to.”
“Did you seriously say that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Of course I want to stay.” With that, he gets up off the couch and picks me up, like he did when we got back from the hospital. He carries me to the bedroom, placing me in the bed. He strips so he’s in a t-shirt and gets into his side of the bed and pulls me into him so we’re spooning.
“You know we can’t have sex, right? I’m supposed to take it easy.”
“Lorenzo, shut up. I want to hold you.”
I do just that, happy to lie in his arms. We stay like that for a long time. Then I feel Wyatt relaxing and hear the change in his breathing. He has fallen asleep, and I listen to him until the sounds lull me to sleep.
I hadn’t realized that I missed waking up with Wyatt until I wake up still wrapped in his arms, safe, secure, and happy. Everything feels right with the world, but I also know this is an illusion. Real life will soon come knocking, and Wyatt will need to be told about my involvement with Dad.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Wyatt whispers in my ear. “How we feeling?”
“Considering that I’ve only just woken up this second, I’m good.”
“You stay in bed. I’ll put some coffee on and get us some breakfast.”
“Okay,” I say while stretching out and starfishing across the bed. I hear Wyatt laughing at me as he makes his way to the kitchen. All too soon, the smell of freshly brewed coffee floats down to me and even though the bed is comfy and welcoming, the thought of that bitter black liquid wins out, and I get out of bed. Just as I enter the kitchen, I see Wyatt pouring the coffee into my favorite mug and adding a splash of my French vanilla creamer. He hasn’t spotted me, so I come up behind and wrap my arms around him and kiss him between the shoulder blades. He jumps for a second. Laying his hands over mine and rubbing my arms as he goes to grab my hand, I reach around him and grab my coffee, bringing it to my lips. I blow on the hot liquid and take a sip. Oh my God, it’s good.
“Mmmmm, this is so good. The hospital coffee was awful,” I say, holding the cup in both hands. I walk over to the couch and know it’s time to talk to Wyatt. When I woke in the happy little bubble, I had considered not saying anything, but lying isn’t the way to go.
“Wyatt, come sit with me. We need to talk again.” I wonder if he’ll argue with me, but he doesn’t. With his coffee cup in hand, he walks over and joins me. I dive right in. “What did Liam say when you spoke to him about me?
“He was shocked. I think he hoped it was a coincidence. He had forgotten that you thought your dad was responsible for the attack.”
“I know it was my dad, not think. Is that why you asked if I knew something would happen?”
“He pointed it out to me. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it myself,” he says sheepishly.
“I never spoke about my family, so why would you think that? Did Liam say anything more about my family? Do you know what they’re involved in?” I state as bluntly as I can.
I see by the look on his face, he knows where I’m going with this. His face takes on a hard edge, and I see his cop brain taking over.
“What do you mean, Lorenzo?” he says, placing his coffee on the table in front of us. By the look on his face, I see he means business, if not a little confused.
“You know what I mean? In fact, it’s not just Liam. What do you know about my family and the business?” I ask.
“This is an open case, Lorenzo. You know I can’t discuss this with you,” he says like I don’t know that fact.
“The difference here, Wyatt, is that this is a case I’m involved in. You’re investigating my family’s business.”
“Okay, Lorenzo, I believe that your dad is into some serious shit. Mainly drug deals, and he’s a sick mother fucker who kills, especially people who talk to the cops.” Wyatt almost shouts at me like he’s trying to shock me.
“You’re right. Dad is a sick mother fucker, but he doesn’t kill anyone. He gets other people to do it for him.”
“I’m almost scared to ask this…” I can tell that he doesn’t want to ask. “Are you one of those people?”
“Yes.” I see the exact moment those words filter into his brain. He moves away from me, physically shaking. I’m not sure if it’s with anger, shock, or dismay. I must keep talking, so I tell him everything. I hope he realizes that even though I’ve committed crimes, there’s no evidence. I pray he doesn’t arrest me.
“Dad is the head of a drug ring. He always hoped I would be his heir. Just like his dad and his dad before him. When he gives an order, you follow it. Regardless if that includes a hit. Dad has instilled so much fear into those who work for him that these don’t happen very often. Occasionally, someone slips up, like Tony, and action is needed.” As I continue, I see him getting paler and paler as the full weight of everything I’m saying dawns on him.
With a shaky voice, he asks, “You killed Tony? Wasn’t he family?”
“Yes and no. He was as close as family, but he was caught talking to you. Dad decided that another lesson was needed.”
“H… how many?” he asks, stuttering his words, his voice barely a whisper.
“Sorry?” I ask because I can hardly hear him, and he explodes.
“How many? How many people have you killed?” The anger and venom in those words cause spittle to come out of his mouth.
“He only used me when he wanted a quick kill, so I’m in single figures, I think. I never kept tally.”
“You never kept tally. That’s good of you, Lorenzo.” He’s almost screaming at this point, as he paces the floor.
“Other than Tony, most of the people I shot were dealers trying to con Dad. I used to think at least it’s another dealer off the street. Killing Tony was the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do, and it isn’t something I’m proud of.”
“Good, you damn well shouldn’t be fucking proud of yourself. By telling me this, do you know the fucking position you’ve put me in? I should arrest you on the fucking spot.” Wyatt has stopped pacing to say this but glares at me.
This will probably upset things even more, but I say, “Arrest me for what?”
“The murder of Tony and those other people,” he says, almost shocked that I even ask, and paces again.
“But according to the medical records, Tony wasn’t murdered. There are no other bodies. Now, there’s no evidence to those killings.” This causes Wyatt to stop pacing as he looks at me. He realizes that what I’m saying is the truth. “Look, Dad has been training me to take over the business for as long as I can remember. When I was five, I remember him giving me a BB gun so I could get used to handling one. When I was old enough, the firearm training started before giving me a Glock when I was eighteen.” He’s still staring at me, but I keep going. “I never wanted this life. But I was too scared to leave until I met you. It took me two years, Tony’s death, and a door slamming shut to get the courage. When I walked into my parents’ house that night and announced that I was gay, I knew I would be leaving a free man.”
Wyatt stops pacing. He still looks grey, and there are beads of sweat on his brow. He looks at me, but I can’t read him. His eyes are dead. I can cope if there were hate or disappointment in his eyes. I can even cope with anger. These are all emotions I can deal with, but dead? Dead is scary, and yet I keep ongoing.
“I want to help with your investigation if it means saving me from jail.”
When he talks to me next, his voice matches his eyes, “As you pointed out, there’s no crime to arrest you for.”
“Wyatt, what are you thinking?” That’s a stupid question, but I need to try to gauge how much I must repair.
“Honestly, I don’t know. You’ve told me you’re a murderer. That goes agains
t everything I stand for.”
Oh shit, this isn’t good. I get up from the couch and take a step towards Wyatt, but he steps away, so I tell him, “Go talk to Liam. Explain everything to him. You both need to process the information I’ve given you. Then the three of us can talk.” Wyatt nods his head in agreement and heads towards the apartment door. He’s in such a daze, he hasn’t realized that he’s still only wearing his t-shirt. “You might want to put some pants on.” This seems to bring him out of his daze.
With a shake of his head, he replies, “Good idea,” and walks to the bedroom. Within minutes, he’s back, but I can tell he’s still as confused, but I leave him to go. As he reaches the apartment door and pulls it open, I call him.
“Wyatt?” Thankfully, he turns. “The only thing that stayed true and pure in all of this is the fact I love you.” Now, he cannot say it back, but it still stings. He nods, and that’s enough for me.
A little while later, I’m resting on the couch. This morning has taken a lot out of me, and the tiredness the doctor warned me about creeps up on me. Then a text notification on the cell left with me goes off. Someone has that number and a way of getting to me. It reminds me that I need to get a new cell, with a different number. When I unlock the cell and see that the text is from an unknown number, I open the message, and my heart sinks.
>Order book removed from the shop.
Five simple words, but they’ve changed everything. They aren’t talking about the flower order book, but the one that tracks the drugs into the city. Only a handful of people know about that book, and only Dad and I have keys, which means he arranged for someone to enter my shop and get it. With this piece of information, I know three things: one, someone on Dad’s payroll is going against him; two, whoever this person is knows I’ll talk to the cops; three, the evidence I was hoping to give to Wyatt’s investigation is gone. So is every hope of me proving I’m on their side.
Chapter 14 - Wyatt
I can’t remember the drive back to Liam’s. Can’t even tell you if there was traffic, but my brain is on repeat, replaying the conversation with Lorenzo. I had a feeling he would be aware of the business his dad was involved in, but that he was groomed to take over, and he had killed in his dad’s name comes as a huge shock. The man I’ve fallen in love with isn’t a cold-hearted killer, so now I must figure out who the correct Lorenzo is and if I want that man in my life. I never thought for a second, when I started this drug case, that it would turn my world upside down, yet here I am, about to open the door to my best friend’s apartment and tell him that everything we thought we knew about Lorenzo is wrong.
“What, no ‘Honey, I’m home,’” Liam chuckles to himself. “Why are you home? Wasn’t expecting you?” Liam turns to face Wyatt, and the jovial mood vanishes in an instant “Holy shit, what’s wrong, Wyatt? You look fucking awful.” He rushes over to me and guides me to the couch.
“I had an interesting conversation with Lorenzo,” I say, rising to pace again. Pacing helps give my body something to do while my brain is in turmoil.
“What did he say? Did he confirm that he knew his family would react badly?” Liam asks this so innocently, but at least this will be the more straightforward question to answer.
“Yes, he knew,” I reply.
Before I can tell him more, he asks, “Then why do you look like someone killed your cat, and for Christ’s sake, will you stop the pacing?”
I pause for a second but then ignore him and pace. I have no idea how I’ll explain everything to Liam, but I need to. Taking a deep breath, I begin, “Because Lorenzo spoke to me about his dad and the business. We were wrong, Liam. He knows exactly what his dad is into and even said that his dad was planning on him taking over when the time came. It looks like the business has been passed down from one generation to the next. His great-grandfather started it, but it might even be older than that.”
“How involved was or is Lorenzo?” This time I hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Very,” I reply. “We didn’t go into details about the drugs, but he confirmed that he followed his dad’s orders.”
“What orders?”
“Any, but it seems that he was a popular gun for hire. If his dad wanted someone gone quickly, Lorenzo was his man.”
“Wyatt, no. Please tell me this is a sick joke. The Lorenzo I know could never murder anyone.” His face says it all, and I guess that if I were to look in the mirror, I would see the same: pale skin and shocked expression.
“Oh, I wish I were joking. He confirmed that Tony was the last person to face his dad’s justice after he was seen talking to us.” I had hoped that once I had told Liam, I would feel somewhat calmer, that sharing it would somehow make it easier, but it doesn’t. “You were right. His death wasn’t natural.” The words now struggle to come out. My throat is so dry. “Fuck, I need a beer. You want one?”
“After hearing that, fuck, yes.”
I walk over to the fridge, grab us two bottles, and head back to him. I still have a lot to get off my chest, but more than that, I need advice. I need help to determine what I do from here, and literally, the only person who can help me with that is Liam.
“Why the fuck are you here, and not arresting him for murder?” Liam asks, and I’m reminded why we’re friends. We have moral standards that we live by, and this is no exception.
“Arrest him for what? There’s no evidence of foul play. The coroner didn’t rule it as suspicious. There’s nothing to stand in court, as Lorenzo pointed out.”
“Lorenzo said this?” I see him thinking over the information before saying, “Fuck. He’s right, you know.”
“Yep, and I have no idea how I feel about that,” I say honestly.
“Feel about what?” Liam asks.
“The man I love and have spent the last two years of my life with, is actually a murderer. I can’t wrap my head around the fact he led two separate lives, and I never suspected anything. But there’s one more thing.”
“Seriously, how much more is there?” Liam asks, not quite believing that even after everything I’ve said, there’s more.
“Lorenzo said he wants to help us with the investigation, in his words, ‘to make sure he doesn’t go to jail.’”
“But you said that Lorenzo pointed out that there was no crime to link him to, so how can he then say to stop him from going to jail.”
“I had thought the same,” I say. “Then I realized that Lorenzo knows me or should I say, he knows us. I guess he thinks we’ll find a way to arrest him.”
“So, did he say how he was planning to help?”
“We didn’t actually get to that point. When everything Lorenzo said finally kicked in, I blanked out, and he sent me home to talk to you.”
“Hang on, he sent you here to talk to me? He knows you would tell me everything, right?” Liam asks.
“I think he was banking on it,” I say.
“Really, but why?”
“I think he hopes that by talking to you about everything, it will help me come to terms with everything he has done and figure out if we want his help.”
“We need to think like cops for five minutes. Look at the bigger picture. There’s no crime we can arrest Lorenzo for. His dad made certain of that, and if what he says is true, he could have some valuable information,” Liam says this to me, but it’s almost like he’s thinking aloud.
“So, are you saying we take up his offer and bring him into the investigation?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ve wanted to stop Alfredo Romano for a while, and this could be the ticket we need.”
“You’re right, I know, but how is this going to affect my relationship?” I ask, not sure why I am; he won’t give me any answers.
“Sorry, Wyatt, but that isn’t something I can help you with. You’ll have to work that out for yourself, but I’ll be here every step of the way.”
What Liam is saying is right, but I want someone to wave a magic wand and remove Lorenzo from thi
s situation, so he’s still the florist I met by accident one day, and not the heir to a drug empire and a killer. This is real life, and there are no magic wands that can make this right. The only ones who can make this better are Lorenzo and me. To do that, I need to reconcile the two personas into one and hope that the winner is the gentleman I love. This whole situation has me thinking back over our entire relationship, looking for signs I may have missed. I come up blank. I smile when I remember the time I finally took him home to meet the parents.
“Lorenzo, how long have we been going out?” I say to the back of his head. We have a stay at home date, and he’s currently sitting in my arms while we watch a film. I try to do this as often as I can because it’s my favorite type of date, just us together. I’m falling for this man, and I think he feels the same, but we haven’t said I love you yet.
“Um, three months now, I think,” he replies, smiling.
“You think! Charming. I thought I had made more of an impression than that,” I say. This is the good-natured banter we have with each other.
“Oh, you’ve made an impression.” He turns around and kisses me. “Yes, it’s been three months.”
“Well, I was wondering if you were free on Saturday?” I say, pulling him in closer.
“It depends on what you’re planning?”
“My parents are having a family get-together, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”
He whips around to face me so fast, I’m amazed he doesn’t give himself whiplash. “You want me to come to a get-together, t… to meet your parents and family?”
I cannot help but laugh. “Well, that’s what happens at a get-together, and my parents are dying to meet you.”
“But why? Why are they dying to meet me?” The look of worry on his face is almost comical.
“Because I talk about you all the time, and they want to meet you.” I almost add ‘and the man that makes me.’
“They know you’re gay, and they’re okay with that?” I honestly wasn’t expecting this question, but we hadn’t spoken about our families to each other.