by Trina Lane
“Well, I did say I’d do anything.”
He stripped off his shirt and jeans in rapid succession then followed Ethan into the master bathroom. The water ran and steam started to fill the space. He slowly unbuttoned Ethan’s shirt. The buttons were a requirement until Ethan’s body healed enough that lifting his arms overhead wouldn’t be painful.
The bruising around Ethan’s ribs had been the worse, and they were finally looking normal. The doctors said it would take another month before the ribs healed completely. Ethan had been fortunate that when his rib had snapped it hadn’t punctured a lung.
They stepped into the glass and tile panelled shower. He turned Ethan around to see his back. The angry red scar travelled across the lower back and up the left side. That’s how there’d been damage to both his spleen and kidney. In addition to the scar from the wound itself, there were smaller scars from the surgery used to save Ethan’s life.
Ryan knelt on the slippery tiles and kissed each line, letting his love help heal the wounds given in hate. After he rose, they soaped and kissed each other’s bodies, the water eventually rinsing away the suds and cooling.
They stepped out and dried off with the super fluffy towels Ethan had and Ryan secretly luxuriated in. There was no hiding his half-hard erection when they went into the bedroom, but he tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and turned his head right as Ryan dropped the towel. The thin hand still bruised from IV lines reached out to grasp Ryan’s cock.
“No, baby. Don’t you worry about that.”
“But I want to. Just because I can’t get it up yet doesn’t mean you should have to suffer.”
“But it also doesn’t mean you should have to take care it, especially since you’re hardly strong enough to walk from the parking lot to the apartment without wearing yourself out. We’ll get back to our usual antics in good time. I promise. For now, let me tuck you in bed and hold you tonight.”
He saw a look of both resignation and appreciation cross Ethan’s face. Pulling back the covers, Ryan situated Ethan with pillows surrounding him for support. He walked around the other side, climbed in and snuggled in the soft cotton sheets and down comforter. He rolled to his side so he was facing Ethan, letting the darkness soothe them.
He spoke softly out of deference to the intimate atmosphere. “You ready to talk about the nightmare?”
“There’s really not much to tell. I’m about to reach for the handle on the door to my car, when I feel the first hit to the back of my head. Then I’m on the ground curled around myself, trying to deflect some of the blows. The snow was so cold, but the heat of the knife entering me burned. I see his face, over and over, hurling hateful slurs and taunts. It’s like a short movie clip set on repeat.”
Ryan held out his hand, and Ethan took it. Their fingers clasped together between their bodies.
“We’ll find them, E. I’ll find them.”
“I know you’ll try, but please, don’t agonise over it. It would be a lie if I said that I don’t care if they’re ever caught and brought to justice. What kind of lawyer would I be then?” He smiled and squeezed Ryan’s hand in the dark. “However, I won’t allow them to rule my life either. I’ve you, I’ve my job and I’ve my friends. It’ll take time, but I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“I know you will. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Don’t be afraid to lean on me for a little while if you need to though, and if I seem a little overprotective, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to put up with it.”
Ethan was quickly fading since he’d taken that sleeping pill. He rubbed his head into the wonderfully thick pillows. “M’kay. Nuv you, Ry.”
“Love you too, E.”
Once Ryan saw Ethan’s breathing slow and even out, he allowed himself to drift off, still clutching their hands together.
Chapter Eleven
Earlier, Ryan had stepped into the police station, given the front desk sergeant his name and asked to speak to Detective Phillips. Now, he was cooling his heels in the waiting area. The coffee they’d offered him tasted as if it’d been filtered through a jock strap, but at least, it was hot and caffeine rich. He’d left Ethan at the loft, doing of all things, watching early morning cartoons. He chuckled. Who knew his brilliant lawyer lover was a sucker for Cheerios with classic Scooby-Doo and Tom and Jerry.
He was starting to get impatient when he spied Detective Phillips headed his direction. He stood and held out his hand. “Detective Phillips, thank you for seeing me.”
“No problem, Agent Ashton.”
“Ryan, please. I came to find out if there’d been any progress in identifying Ethan’s attackers.”
“Actually, yes. I was going to call you today. Why don’t you join me in my office, and I’ll show you what we have.”
They walked down a short hall and entered a room with large windows offering views of the busy station area.
“Have a seat.” Phillips indicated one of the chairs at the table.
“Thanks. I don’t intend to step on your toes with the investigation. I had some thoughts I wanted to share with you and figured this would be the best place to do so.”
“By all means. If you know or suspect something, I would appreciate any information you have.”
“The thing is Ethan is currently working on a case. A case my department investigated regarding economic espionage. You know that Ethan is a lawyer in the U.S. Attorney’s Office, correct?” When he saw Phillips nod, he continued, “Our case is as ironclad as one can be. We spent the past year gathering evidence to ensure a conviction. The defendant is an extremely wealthy, extremely intelligent, very well connected and a determined person. Now, I’ve always had suspicions that that there might also be a link to a particular Asian crime syndicate but could never prove it. When Ethan said his attackers were Asian, little warning bells went off in my head. What if this wasn’t a hate crime? What if his attack was a message, a threat to back-off the case disguised as a hate crime?”
“If that were the case why not say that or threaten him. Why the disguise?”
“I’m not sure, but something hasn’t been sitting right about the whole thing. Well, you know what I mean.”
“I do, and I respect your intuitiveness.” Phillips opened the folder sitting on the table. “The man Ethan described has been identified as Huang Ch’en. He is reportedly an enforcer for a certain triad and is most commonly seen with two others of the same level.”
“That’s fantastic when are you picking them up?”
“That’s the not so good news. When we made the identification and received a warrant to search his last know address we found evidence that he’d left. His departure on an Asiana flight into Beijing the day after the attack was confirmed.”
Ryan slammed his hand on the table. “Fuck!”
“I understand your frustration. As you know there is no extradition from China.”
“You understand my frustration? Really? You know how it feels to see your lover laying unconscious in a hospital bed, beaten to a bloody pulp, with a missing spleen and kidney? You know how it feels to hear him cry out in terror because he can’t sleep for remembering the attack? Or watch his once firm muscled body struggle to get his clothes on and off?”
“Ryan, calm down. I may not know what you or Ethan is going through, but I do know the frustration and helplessness you feel when watching a loved one suffer. I’ve also been there for countless families who desperately want answers and justice. I’ve seen the face of evil in ways you could never understand.”
Ryan took a breath and let it out slowly trying to calm his agitation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I truly appreciate the work you’ve put into the case and your willingness to listen to me.” He looked deep into Detective Phillips’ eyes and recognised a man in torment. Some powerful demon had hold of the strong man. He glanced at the desk and saw a picture of a solider in full combat fatigues standing on sand with a snow
dusted mountain in the background. He looked back up at Phillips.
“My foster brother. That was taken during his last tour in Afghanistan.”
“Did he make it home safe?”
“He made it home, but he struggles with PTSD and, now, has a permanent severe hearing loss in both ears from a head trauma.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’s living with me, while trying to acclimate to both civilian life and the injury. You’re not the only one who loves somebody in pain Agent Ashton.”
Ryan once again looked into the depths of Phillips’ stormy grey eyes. Maybe he was reading more than what was there, but he sensed an undercurrent to the words softly spoken. He stood and started to pace the conference room. “Is there any way we can link the men who jumped Ethan to the man he’s prosecuting?”
“I won’t lie to you. If the man is as connected as you say then most likely it won’t happen. However, I will give you the information we have and wish you all the best.”
“Thank you.”
* * * *
Ryan left the station feeling conflicted. Part of him was glad one of Ethan’s attackers had been positively identified and the others all but confirmed. Another part of him was glad that they were out of the country, even though it meant being unable to arrest and charge them with the assault. But then there was the part that was angry and still scared. If the thugs had been hired by Yeung, what was to stop him from trying again, and this time finishing the job?
He thought about this and all the angles he could pursue to prove the connection all the way to Ethan’s office to pick up Ethan’s files.
When the elevator doors opened on the floor to Ethan’s office, the first thing he saw was Tom Wilson, the official U.S. Attorney for the district of Massachusetts. He casually waved to the man and headed towards Ethan’s assistant. He’d called ahead and told her he was going to come by. When she saw him, she stood from behind the desk and rushed over to greet him.
“Hi, Agent Ashton. How’s he doing?”
“Cindy, it’s been nearly three months since Ethan and I started seeing each other. How many times do I have to remind you to call me Ryan?” he asked, smiling.
“I know, I know. Old habits and all that. You’ve been coming around this office for years as Special Agent Ashton, and now, my brain’s supposed to switch and think of you as Ryan?” She grabbed the end of her ponytail and waved it at him. “Don’t you realise us blondes are a little slow?”
He laughed, knowing she was teasing him. Everyone in that office knew just how sharp and efficient Cindy was. Hell, she practically ran the place.
“You are about as slow as a cheetah and just as cunning, young lady. Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.”
“A cheetah, huh? I think, I actually like that. Sleek, fast, predatory and beautifully graceful. Yeah, I’ll take that.”
They stepped into Ethan’s office where she’d complied everything Ryan would need to take home.
“Seriously, though, how is he?”
“Healing. The superficial bruises are just about gone. His ribs will hurt for another few weeks; the wounds from the knife and subsequent surgeries will be about the same. Doctors have said he can start normal activities in another four to five weeks.”
“Well that catalogues his physical condition, but what about…” She tapped her temple.
He wasn’t kidding when he’d told her she was cunning. He knew Cindy and Ethan were friendly, but was this enquiry about a friend or was she on a mission for the department?
“He’s handled that part remarkably well. There are no indications of permanent damage from the blows to the head. He’s in good spirits and eager to continue the work on the case. Which is why—”
“You’ve been sent to act as courier?” She pointed the pile on the desk next to them. “Here’s everything he was working on. I’ve included the research, references, his notes for cross examination, questions for testimony, contact information and outline for final arguments. There’s also a scan of the prototype. I’ve set it up so he can log on to his computer remotely to access anything I’ve forgotten. The instructions and pass codes are all there.”
“I never doubted you, Cindy.”
“You better not, mister. Oh and tell him that all his other active cases have been transferred around. If he wants to know who has what, have him call me. That being said I’ve been instructed to tell you not to let him overexert himself. Wilson wants him in the chair next to him when this goes to trial.”
“The lead attorney specifically said he wants Ethan as co-counsel during the trial?”
“No, he specifically stated that Ethan is the lead attorney on this case. He’s taking second chair. Said Ethan earned it with all the hard work he’s put in.”
That was huge! This was a major case. National level, headline worthy. There was a knock at the door, and Wilson poked his head in.
“Do you have a second, Ryan?” he asked.
“Sure, come on in. I was just thanking Cindy for getting all of Ethan’s work together for me to take home to him.”
She nodded her head to Wilson. “I’ll see you around, Ryan. Remember what I said,” she reminded, walking out and closing the door.
“What can I do for you, Tom?” Ryan asked.
He’d known Tom Wilson for several years. His department had sent several cases to this office. Wilson was overall a nice guy. Nearing sixty, he was as active and dedicated as people half his age. Not bad looking, either. He had that salt and pepper distinguished look going for him, as well as wide shoulders, lean waist and hips and well-trimmed goatee. Ryan never had seen a wedding band on the man’s hand, and Wilson had never spoken of a significant other.
Hmm? I wonder…
“I wanted to check in with you and see if there’s been any progress in identifying Ethan’s assailants.”
“You have good timing. I was at the police station just before I came here. They have positively identified one of them and have strong suspicions on the other two. The problem is they’ve fled to China.”
“This was confirmed?”
“Yep, day after the attack, they’re listed on a manifest to Beijing.”
“Damn, I would have loved to stick it to them.”
Should I tell Wilson my suspicions and enlist his help? It can’t hurt, and I might need every contact I can get my hands on.
“There might be another way−”
“You know something?” Wilson said eagerly.
“I don’t know anything, but I have a hunch.”
He explained his past inquiries into Yeung and his reasoning for the possible connection to Ethan’s attack. “I know it’s a stretch and nearly impossible to tie together but…”
“Count me in. If Yeung had anything to do with Ethan’s attack, I want to nail the bastard. I know I’m Ethan’s boss, but he’s also a good friend. He’s the most promising assistant attorney I have, and I don’t want this to bring him down. I’m sure Cindy told you that I’ve requested Ethan to be lead on this one. I thought he’d earned it with all the hard work, but if this is true, then he also deserves the right to see the S.O.B. put down. If we can’t make the connection for the attack, at least, he’ll have the knowledge that we put Yeung away for treason. It’s kind of like convicting Al Capon of tax evasion, you know?”
Ryan nodded. “I’m sure Ethan would say the same thing, and when I tell him about your request, I know he’ll be thankful. FYI, I haven’t told him about the identification or my suspicions yet. I’ll definitely mention the former but haven’t made up my mind about the latter yet.”
“I would seriously consider telling him, even if nothing comes of it. Ethan is a real stickler for honesty. I know you have all the best intentions, but sometimes, he can think very black and white.” Wilson chuckled. “It’s his only real flaw as a lawyer. Sometimes, we have to work in shades of grey.” He looked to the closed door and back again. “Look, I know you love him, and I know he lov
es you. I swear the moment you two met, the temperature in this office went up several degrees. I don’t want something as inconsequential as a little omission to hurt that.”
Should I ask? Oh hell, go for broke.
“I appreciate the advice, Tom. You know we’ve been colleagues, and I’d like to think friendly acquaintances for several years, would you mind if I asked a personal question?”
Wilson stepped back and crossed his arms. “It depends. I reserve the right to not answer.”
“Fair enough. I know you’ve always been aware of Ethan’s orientation, why doesn’t it bother you?”
There that’s asking but not asking at the same time.
“You’re wondering if there’s another reason why I might support him.” Wilson smiled. “I can understand this. I’ve never spoken of my personal life with you, and I’ve never made it a secret that Ethan’s honesty about his sexuality is accepted without reservation. First, let me say that I’m not gay. I was married for many years, but she left shortly before Ethan came to work for me. However, I did have a brother who was gay.”
“Did?”
“Yes, back before ‘coming out’ was more socially acceptable, he and a group of friends tried to pave the path so to speak. In the early seventies, they began a newspaper. It was a haven for gay rights activists and a literary outlet for the community. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out for them. They were attacked as a group. Every one of them shot and killed coming home from a club. Eyewitnesses said the shooter yelled ‘faggots belong in hell’ before he pulled the trigger.”
“Tell me they got him.”
“They did. He was serving four consecutive life sentences for second degree murder.”
“Was?”
“Died of pancreatic cancer ten years ago.”
Ryan was shocked by Tom’s story. Not that it had actually happened, unfortunately one didn’t live as an openly gay man without experiencing some form of bigotry in one’s life. He’d never known this personal side of the distinguished attorney and wondered if that experience had anything to do with why he’d chosen this profession.