by Andrew Grey
“That’s temporary,” Obie protested, probably too rapidly.
“I know it is. But you’ve been in each other’s pockets for a while, and things are bound to get muddled up. A little distance is good. It’ll give you a chance to think. How long is he going to be there?”
Obie sighed, knowing Chippy was right. “A few more days. Bri was meeting the adjuster this morning, and he has already hired a restoration company to start getting the smoke smell out of the house.” He wasn’t sure how happy he was about the whole thing, but Chippy was right. Distance and going back to a more normal type of relationship would probably do them both good. “Thanks for the help.”
“I hate to throw a wet blanket….”
“You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.” He checked the clock. “I have to go. I have a client soon and then a really full day. Two new clients are coming in, so it’s going to be busy.” He thanked Chippy and hung up, making a beeline for the bathroom to clean up and get ready to start his day.
GOD, HE was hungry. Obie had worked all morning. And with a few appointments running behind, he hadn’t had enough time to stop for much more than a drink of water. Still, Mr. Cavendish was on his way out, and he expected the first of his new clients any second.
The back gate opened as Obie downed a glass of juice, settling his stomach a little before he opened the back door to let the man in. “Mr. Kelvin,” Obie said with a smile, extending his hand. “I’m Obie Kenoble. It’s good to meet you.” They shook hands rather lightly and Obie motioned him inside. He got the forms and then went over them.
“Call me Harvey,” his new client said as they talked about his back issues.
“I believe I can help you. I’m going to have you take off your shirt and get up on the massage table. I want to get an exact idea of where the pain is.” He turned his back to give him a chance to get ready. “Do you need help?” Obie groaned as his phone rang. He ignored it and it rang again. “Will you excuse me?” Obie hated to interrupt a client, but he was only going to be a moment. He reached his phone in the kitchen just as it stopped ringing. He checked his call record. It had been his dad. He glanced at his messages as he returned to the therapy room, where Harvey was on the phone.
“I’m here right now. So you better listen to me closely….” Harvey turned to him as soon as Obie entered. He recognized the voice now, but it was too late. Harvey leaped out of the chair with no apparent back issues at all. And before Obie could react, he was down on the floor.
Obie struggled and nearly got free from Harvey. “Now you need to settle down, or I’ll twist that pretty neck of yours and then that will be the end of you,” Harvey snarled, and Obie stilled. He had no choice, especially with the way Harvey gripped him. Obie had been overpowered. He glanced from side to side to see if there was anything he could use as a weapon, but, pinned to the floor, he had no way of reaching anything.
“All right.”
A rag pressed over his nose, and Obie did his best to breathe through his mouth, but it did no good. He became light-headed and slumped to the floor, closing his eyes as blackness threatened to overtake him.
OBIE BLINKED and didn’t move. The cloth was gone from his nose and he wondered how long he’d been fogged out. It couldn’t have been long. He wasn’t tied, but he was still lying on the floor. Harvey was somewhere behind him, nervously pacing the floor. “Where is he? I should have known. He’s no better now than he was then, the bastard.” He stopped and came closer. Obie closed his eyes and kept his breathing level, even though his heart raced a mile a minute.
Hopefully Bri had called his dad once he’d talked with Harvey, though Obie had no idea. Obviously, Harvey expected Bri to come to meet him.
“Okay, little guy.” Harvey slipped his arms under him, lifting Obie up. “It’s time you and I go for a ride.” As soon as he was off the floor, but before Harvey straightened up, Obie jerked, thrashing in Harvey’s arms and going for his face, gouging at his eyes.
Harvey dropped him as he tried to protect himself, and Obie scrambled to his feet, racing out of the room, through the house and toward the front door. He heard Harvey bearing down on him, but managed to get the door open and leap out, slamming it behind him as a car pulled up. “Obie!” Bri called as sirens sounded, getting closer. “Get in!” Bri opened the door, and Obie dove into the back seat, tugging the door closed. “Go!” Bri told the driver and he took off.
“Did you call Dad?”
“Yes. He’s on his way,” Bri said and then told the driver to go around the block. Sure enough, by the time they reached the front of the house again, police cars had blocked the street. He had the driver pull over, and Bri paid him before they got out.
Obie approached the nearest officer. “This is my house,” Obie said, even as his father strode through the line and right up to him, hugging him tightly.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” his dad asked.
“He tried. Had something like chloroform in a rag. He put it over my nose, but I did what you told me to. I breathed through my mouth and then held my breath. He thought I had passed out. I was groggy—and now I have a headache—but I recovered quicker than he thought and surprised him.”
“There’s no one in the house now, sir,” an officer said.
“He was mainly in the studio,” Obie told his father. “He probably left plenty of evidence. He wasn’t trying to hide his tracks. Check the massage table, and I can show you some things he touched,” Obie offered.
“Okay, but don’t touch anything yourself.” He led the way inside, and Obie showed them the clipboard that still had the guy’s intake form on it, as well as the pen he’d used. He also pointed out the other things Harvey had touched before leaving the room.
Obie was able to describe his attacker in great detail. “He can’t be very far away. Bri had already called you, and I wasn’t out more than maybe ten minutes… tops.” Obie left the house and joined Bri on the sidewalk as the police did their jobs. He answered all their questions to the best of his ability, and no, he didn’t want to go to the hospital. He was going to be fine and only had a slight headache, which was dissipating. Other than that, he wasn’t hurt…. He hadn’t recognized the man and had no idea if the name he had was the guy’s real one or not. Questions followed questions until Obie was exhausted. The police finally finished inside.
“You need to stay somewhere else. Harvey Kelvin knows where you are—both of you, I suspect. Now, I want you to come stay with me for a few days. We’ll track this guy down, and then you can return home.”
Obie groaned. “What am I supposed to do about my clients, my job? Just leave them hanging? I can’t, Dad, you know that. They rely on me, and letting them down is out of the question. You can station an officer here if you like, but I won’t be driven out of my own house by some crackpot.” He put his arms over his chest, defying his father to argue with him. “You know I can be just as stubborn as you are.” And he could. Lord knew he’d learned from the best.
“I do.” His dad turned to Bri. “Are you okay with this? We can put you up in a hotel and provide you with protection until we find this man.”
“Obie,” Bri said. “Why don’t we stay here during the day so you can keep your appointments, but go to a hotel at night? That way we can be safe and sleep better without worrying. I can make a few calls and get us a room at a really nice place.” He already had his phone out, but didn’t actually call until Obie nodded. It made sense, and they needed to be safe. “You can have someone here during the day,” Bri told James. “As long as Obie is okay with it.”
Obie nodded and sighed. He didn’t see any other alternative, and as much as he hated the idea, it made sense. Bri made the hotel reservations, and Obie humphed and paced while the officers finished up.
“Son, are you really all right?” his dad asked.
“Yes and no,” he answered honestly. “Harvey is desperate, there’s no doubt about that. But he doesn’t really know what he’s do
ing. I think he’s acting on instinct and out of pure, unadulterated hatred, but there isn’t a great deal of planning involved. If he wanted to get to Bri, he could have waited until he was alone and attacked him.” Not that he wanted that for a second. The thought of Bri being in danger alternately filled him with fear and then anger.
“He didn’t necessarily know he was here,” James explained as Bri drew closer. “My guess is that he saw the two of you together, maybe at the club, but more likely at the game.” James grinned slightly. “You aren’t exactly subtle. He found out who you were and made an appointment.” He sighed. “We don’t really know what he knows, but we’ll find out.” Then James turned away to talk to a few of the officers, while another approached with an iPad.
“I have something, sir,” she said and brought up a picture. “Is this the man who was here?” She showed it to Obie, and he nodded.
“That’s him. Did he give his real name?” That was probably the stupidest move in history.
“No. But he did provide his real address, or at least most of it. He didn’t have time to completely lie on the form, so he changed a few things. He used a house number that doesn’t exist, but the rest was enough to follow. He figured he was being clever, but we can get around stuff like that.” She turned to James. “His real name is Harvey Hamel,” she said, and Bri gasped, stepping closer.
“Can I see the picture?” he asked, and she showed it to him.
“Is he familiar to you?” she asked as Bri held the iPad, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it.
“What is it?” Obie asked, becoming concerned.
“Hamel was Willy’s last name. Is he a relative?” Bri asked, and provided the details he could remember.
“Let me check and see what I can find.” The officer took the iPad, tapping it as she walked back toward her car.
“You think this could have something to do with Willy?” Obie asked, trying to get his head around it. “But you didn’t hurt him, right? You never picked on him.”
“No. But I didn’t help him either,” Bri said.
“Give us a chance to look into this. It could be the first solid lead into a motive that we have,” his dad explained, and Obie nodded.
“Come on, Bri. We need to get out of the way so they can finish up.” He turned to his dad. “Can we go inside and get some clothes for tonight? Then we can get out of here, and you can do what you need to.”
“Yeah. Go right on upstairs, and I’ll make sure the house is locked up when we’re done.” He hugged Obie once again. “You gave me a real fright, son. I’m proud of the way you handled yourself, but I don’t think I can take another close call like that.” He gently stroked Obie’s head. “You scared me half to death.”
“I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t like I intended to let a deranged lunatic into the house. I think I need to add that question to the intake form.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m being serious. I was frightened,” his dad said, and Obie closed his eyes, hugging his father back.
“I knew you’d be here. I heard him on the phone to Bri and knew in my heart that he’d call you and you’d get here faster than anyone. When I startled him, I figured I was going to buy some time, but I got away and….” He took a deep breath, letting his father comfort him. It had been some time since his dad had done that.
“Still, I….” His dad sighed. “I know I can’t keep you locked away so you’d always be safe, but sometimes I wish I could.” Obie supposed that was what every father wished they could do for their children. “You and Bri get to the hotel, and don’t stop anywhere along the way unless you really have to. Call me once you’re in the room, and throw all the locks to make double sure.”
“We will, Dad,” Obie agreed and stepped back. “And thanks for everything.” He waited for Bri and let him go inside first, taking the direct route upstairs. It didn’t take long to get what they needed and then they were out and into a car. While they rode, Obie called his remaining clients for the day to reschedule their appointments. The next two days were going to be very busy, but he got everything settled by the time they reached the Loews downtown.
Obie carried their bags as Bri checked them in. “We’re on the concierge level, which requires an access card to get up to the floor. I thought it better.” He handed Obie a card as the elevator door closed and they rode to the top floor. Their room was at the very end of the hall, and Obie slipped his card into the lock and they stepped into a huge suite. “Maybe I should have gotten you your own room, but I thought if we were together, it would be safer than each of us being alone. I can take one bedroom and you can have the other.”
Bri headed for the room to the left, and Obie set down the bags. “I knew you’d take care of things.”
“How did you know he called me?” Bri asked at the open doorway to his bedroom.
“I overheard him talking to you when I came to. I had tried to get away, but he tackled me and tried to knock me out.” The rest of the story Bri already knew. “You saved me.” He stepped closer to Bri, who didn’t move.
“It looked to me like you saved yourself. It was your quick thinking that got you out of there.” He set his crutches against the wall as Obie closed the distance between them. “I was frantic as soon as I got that call. I swear the phone shook the entire time I was talking to your dad. I told the driver to go right over to your house, and then you flew outside.” Bri held him tightly, nearly crushing Obie in the fierceness of the embrace. “I don’t think I was ever so happy to see anyone in my life.” He slanted his lips over Obie’s, kissing him gently at first, but in a fraction of a second, it went from comfort to craving.
He pressed himself to Bri, holding him fiercely, returning the kiss. “I was scared, but things I’d been told since I was a kid came back to me and they worked. All I could think of was you and that you were safe.”
“Do you still want to take things slow and—?” Bri didn’t get the words out. Obie cut them off with his lips, sliding his hands under Bri’s shirt, caressing his taut, smooth skin over rippled muscle that sent a surge of passion racing through him.
“I….” Obie buried his face in Bri’s neck, holding him as the weight of what happened settled on him. “I could have died,” he whispered, half in shock at how fast everything in his head had changed.
Bri slowly guided them toward the bed and helped Obie down. His hands shook as the realization of what could have happened washed over him. Bri lay next to him, holding him tightly.
“It’s all right to be scared,” Bri whispered.
“But when it was happening, I was so clearheaded. And now, I can barely think straight,” Obie said, not really understanding what was going on.
Bri rubbed his back and hummed slowly. “It’s like that in stressful situations. I get that way after a game. I can think clearly during it, but afterward, I sort of come down and wonder what would have happened if I’d done something differently. That’s what’s happening here. You were cool under pressure. That’s what really matters.” Obie lifted his head and Bri nodded. “Most people can’t do that. They freeze or panic. You did neither and you got away.”
Obie took a deep breath, snuggling closer to Bri’s heat and comfort. “I never want to go through that again.” His phone rang, and Obie answered it. “I’m fine, Dad. We’re in the hotel room.”
“Good. We’re working to find this guy. We checked his house, but he hasn’t come back. There are signs that he packed some things, so….” His dad’s voice held anger and frustration just under the surface.
“We’re safe and on the concierge level, so it has additional precautions about who can get up here.” He explained which hotel they were at and gave his dad the room number. “I think Bri and I are going to get something to eat. There’s a nice restaurant here, so we’ll get some food and wait things out until you get this guy.”
“Good idea. I’ll call as soon as I have anything.” His dad paused. “I love you.” Obie had no d
oubt that his dad loved him, but he wasn’t one to say the words often. Hearing them meant a lot.
“Love you too,” he said and ended the call, putting his phone on the nightstand and lying back down. Bri continued rubbing his back, and as the tension eased, Obie dozed off for a while.
Bri was on the phone to his parents when Obie woke, his stomach rumbling loudly. “Why don’t you get up and we’ll go down for something to eat? You’ll feel better, and then we can watch some movies or something.” He was so kind, and Obie nodded, leaning closer, pulling some calm strength from Bri. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I….” Bri huffed. “I’m absolute crap when it comes to telling people how I feel. It’s hard, and I’m always afraid—but I want this to work between us. I want you and me to have a chance. I knew that for sure the moment I got that call. It was like something clicked in my head. I swear if I’d had a car, I would have figured out a way for the damned thing to sprout wings on the way there.” Bri gathered him into his arms and held him, rocking slowly. It was amazing to be held and comforted, cherished even.
“You’re good at this.” Obie was surprisingly content and didn’t want to move. His belly growled again, though, and he slowly got up off the bed, looking around for his shoes.
“I put them over by the door,” Bri said, and Obie nodded and went over to get them. “I also checked and found out that they have a gym on the fifth floor. It has a sauna and steam room. I thought after dinner, we could relax a little, and maybe we can have a therapy session there. Get my leg working again.” Bri rubbed his knee around the brace. “I really want to get rid of this thing.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Obie agreed and waited in the living area while Bri used the bathroom. When he joined him without the crutches, Obie didn’t say anything, and they walked slowly down the hallway. He called for the elevator, and they stepped inside, riding downward quickly.