His First Surrender (Stonewall Investigations Miami Book 3)

by Max Walker

  Nick had lost his mind. Somewhere in his past, something had done irreparable damage.

  “I’ve already resigned myself to my fate. Spending an eternity in hell. I accepted that when Angel fucked me. I accepted it. So, tonight, I can do no more wrong.” He pushed Peter’s chair closer to the edge. Peter’s big eyes, full of life and cheer at the fair only hours before, were now blown into two black orbs radiating with the fear he must have felt.

  “Stop! Nick, stop it.” I had to try something. Had to try and talk some reasoning into him. “You’ve got to see where this is wrong. Being gay is nowhere near the equivalence of throwing someone off a building. Please, Nick. Let us go. We can get help, we can sort through everything.”

  “Sort through everything? You think a therapist can ‘sort through everything’ with me? I speak only to God. And he’s been very silent lately.” Another push. Another strangled shout from Peter. “I think I know how to make him talk, though.”

  My wrists came loose at that moment. Nick had no idea. I could launch up and grab them both. I had split seconds to decide what to do, and my decision could very well end up costing our lives.

  But I made the decision anyway, hoping against all hope that I didn’t make the wrong choice.

  28

  Rocky Hudson

  My car’s engine roared like a caged tiger down the Miami streets, no longer crowded from any rush-hour traffic. I took sharp turns and sped around cars, Angel in the passenger seat, his knuckles pale as one hand held on to the door handle and the other held on to his seat belt. He gave a little yelp when we sped over a hill and caught some air, landing on the other side with a rough screech, the bottom of my car scraping across the concrete.

  I didn’t give a flying fuck. My entire paint job could scratch right off and I wouldn’t have cared.

  All I cared about was making it to Sam. I drove toward the giant structure on the horizon, the blinking light on the highest level of the building working as a North Star, guiding me down the streets and toward Sam and Peter.

  They had to be there. They had to be at Heaven’s Gate. And we weren’t the only ones on our way either. We had called the police, and I was sure they were sending officers out there.

  So I was surprised when I pulled up to the gravel parking lot that there were no police cars lined up, blocking our entrance. I thought we’d for sure have cops here. Instead, we pulled right up to the gate, which had been cut open and was now swinging back and forth in the wind.

  We got out of my car, a cloud of dust still in the air.

  “That must be Nick’s car,” I said, pointing at a beat-up Chevy with the passenger door still thrown open.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Angel said, running ahead of me.

  The Heaven’s Gate building, officially named the Diamond Bank building, was mostly finished, with everything but the upper floors enclosed and furnished. We ran through the lobby where paint buckets and ladders still waited to be put away, tarps covering the check-in area and waiting area. The elevator had been installed, but there was no power except for some emergency lighting throughout the room, so I knew we had to take the long way up.

  “The stairs. Over there.” I ran toward the closed door, hoping to God that it wasn’t locked.

  The door swung open, revealing a staircase that still smelled like wet paint and wood chips.

  “Think they’re at the top?” Angel asked, looking up. Some of the scaffolding hadn’t been fully completed in the stairwell, so we could see a long way up.

  “They’ve got to be.” And I started to run, taking two stairs at a time, both hands on the rails. Angel followed close behind me, neither of us wanting to lose another second.

  By the twentieth floor, we were starting to feel it. My legs burned, but I pushed past the pain.

  I’m not losing you, Sam. I’m not.

  That thought alone kept me climbing. As we got higher, the building felt less and less completed, until the concrete stairs were we running up turned into just steel, our shoes making loud echoes off each step. The doors that led out onto the floor from the stairwells were gone, letting us looking into the long and empty halls. Around the fortieth floor, I could see that there were no longer any walls on the exterior of the building. It started to get colder, too, the farther we climbed.

  “Come on, we’re almost there,” I said, encouraging Angel. Neither of us were strangers to physical exertion, but running up forty flights of stairs would wind even the strongest athlete.

  Still, we kept climbing. Every step, every heartbeat, taking us closer and closer to Sam and Peter.

  What if they aren’t here…?

  The thought hit me like a dump truck tearing through a solid brick wall.

  I kept running up the stairs, faster now. I couldn’t entertain those kinds of thoughts. They had to be here. Had to. And they had to be alive, because if they weren’t…

  Faster I ran, Angel right behind me. Finally, I could see where the topmost flight gave way to pure sky, the ceiling not having been built yet. The wind whistled down the steps, penetrating my ears like the cries of dying birds, sharp and shrieking.

  We reached the flat landing on the highest floor. No more stairs to climb. Nothing.

  And I saw them. The three of them. Sam sat on a chair, his back to me, while Nick held Peter’s chair against the edge of the building. The fear on Peter’s face reflected like moonlight. He didn’t see us, no one did. But I saw him, and I saw how close he was to being pushed over, tumbling down to the ground while he was tied to a rickety wooden chair.

  I shouted but could barely hear myself over the wind, which started whipping up even more, causing a big blue tarp to slap outward, the corner coming dangerously close to taking out my eye.

  That’s when it all exploded. I watched as Sam’s wrists came free, the rope that was tying him falling down to the ground. He jumped upward, straight toward Nick and Peter. Nick, caught by total surprise, seemed to freeze in place. Sam reached for both of them, grabbing Nick by the arm and Peter by the chair. For a brief moment, time seemed to have stopped. I thought Sam was going to be carried away by the momentum and all three of them were going to go flying to their end. I started to run, but there’d be no way I could get there in time. Zero way.

  But Sam didn’t fall over. He pulled them back. All three of them came falling backward, away from the edge. Peter’s chair fell and shattered, Sam managing to avoid being splintered by any of the wood. Nick fell hard, off to the side. His head hit an exposed brick, bouncing back up at a scary speed. His body went limp.

  “Sam!” I was at his side, kneeling down, looking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “Sam, baby, are you okay? I’m here. I’ve got you.”

  “Rocky,” he said, looking up at me and managing a smile. “You found us.”

  “And you saved the day.” I kissed him. God, I kissed him. Never had I felt so relieved to press my lips against someone else’s. I kissed him and I kissed him. I held him. I breathed him in.

  Angel was at Peter’s side, helping him up onto his feet.

  “I was so scared, Rocky.”

  “But you did it. You were the hero tonight.”

  Sam’s lip quivered. The shock must have been wearing off. “Come on. Let’s get you both back down on solid—aggh!”

  The pain was severe. A molten hot shot right through my shoulder, radiating outward so that my toes curled inside my shoes and my lungs contracted with the gasp. I twisted, the pain turning lava hot. Nick stood there, blood on his hands, a twisted smile on his face.

  “Fuck you,” I said, and went forward, pushing past the pain that still radiated from my shoulder. I lifted my hand, a balled fist ready to come crashing down on Nick’s face, but the move did something. Whatever was in my shoulder cut into me, slicing something that must have been pretty fucking important, because my entire hand went limp and I fell to the floor.

  Angel took my place. He rushed Nick. With a shout, they both tumbled to the ground. Ang
el landed blow after blow, but Nick rolled them over and somehow grabbed the upper hand. He may have been thin, but he must have found some reservoir of strength. He lifted Angel and pushed, pushed, pushed.

  They went to the edge. I couldn’t move. Sam and Peter were both paralyzed in the way someone is when they watch a fatal car crash happening before their eyes, knowing there was nothing they could do to help.

  Not until the aftermath.

  Nick pushed Angel to the edge. He pushed him again. Angel’s feet couldn’t find purchase. He grabbed onto Nick’s shirt, but the fabric tore, the sound of it competing with the wind. Competing with the desperate shouts, seemingly carried on the wind from a thousand different directions.

  And then Angel was gone.

  Just like that. Nick stood there, no Angel in sight.

  “No!” Peter cried out. He got up, but Nick whipped around and landed a kick to Peter’s already swollen face, sending him falling back to the ground. He stood there, his shirt torn open, his dirty tattoos showing through them.

  I recognized one of those tattoos. The jagged cross on his chest. He had reached out to me on my hookup app, months ago. This monster had cast his shadow on my life, and I was done. Fucking done. He wasn’t going to take anyone else from me.

  No one would.

  With a roar as loud as the wind around me, I stood and ran forward. For Angel. With the shoulder that wasn’t damaged, I pushed forward, ramming into Nick’s chest. I saw his eyes bulge in surprise as he flew backward, back over the ledge, into the empty night sky. His hands flailed around, as if he were a baby bird just learning how to fly.

  And then he dropped, falling through the dark expanse, his cry swallowed whole by the night.

  I fell to my knees, exhausted, pain still flooding through me, but sadness beginning to push it all aside. A profound sadness that left me as empty as the night sky.

  “Help!”

  I thought it was a hallucination. Surely, a trick of the wind. I looked down anyway. There, staring up at me, fingers holding death-tight to an exposed beam, was Angel. The beam shook as Angel tried to get a better hold.

  “He’s here! I need help!” I shouted behind me.

  Peter and Sam were at my side in seconds. The three of us reached down. I helped steady the beam with my good hand. Peter and Sam both grabbed hold of one of Angel’s hands and on the count of… “Three!” they pulled.

  Angel fell onto the floor, Sam and Peter falling back with him. I let go of the beam, which dislodged and went spiraling downward, clattering against other beams as it fell.

  I looked around at the scene, unable to really digest everything that happened. Or even what had happened to me. I craned my neck, trying to see my shoulder for the first time since the searing hot pain sliced through me.

  “Oh Rocky, jeez, don’t move.” Sam was looking at me, sweat on his face, concern on his brow, but reprieve in his eyes. I wanted to kiss him. To kiss him and never let him go, never let him out of my sight. I moved in, feeling a little light-headed, wanting to stabilize myself with my lips on his.

  “You’re losing a lot of blood, Rocky.”

  “What? What is it?” I craned my neck again, unable to see anything.

  “It’s a massive shard of glass,” Sam said. He put a hand on my arm, and it was all I really needed. I took a breath, finding strength in the knowledge that we were all okay.

  “Think you can make it down the stairs?” Peter asked, holding a still-shaking Angel.

  I nodded, standing up on wobbly but working legs. I could feel the blood on my back now.

  “I can do it. Let’s get off this thing.”

  “Are you sure?” Sam asked, still holding my arm. It seemed like he didn’t want to let me out of his sights either. He put another hand on my head, moving aside the hair that matted to my forehead with sweat.

  “There’s only two ways off of this.” I looked toward the edge. “And I’m not planning on taking Nick’s shortcut.”

  The four of us, mangled up, bruised, and bleeding, made it down the fifty-five flights of stairs, making it to the ground floor just as the cops were arriving. From there, I was taken to the hospital, where my shoulder had to be stitched up. Thankfully, no major muscles were damaged in the hit, so the little loss of motion I had would resolve itself with time.

  Through it all, Sam had been there by my side. From the moment I’d been wheeled into the ambulance, to the moment I walked out of the hospital doors, Sam was there, holding my hand, giving me kisses, reassuring me that it was all going to be okay now.

  And it truly was.

  Finally, I could genuinely say that things really did seem brighter than bright.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  SAM CLARK

  The yard had been completely transformed. The rolling hill behind my house served as a backdrop to a white gazebo, gold and navy blue trim set around the banisters and inside delicate flower carvings. In front of the gazebo, a section of golden-backed chairs had been set up with an aisle running down the middle, a trail of navy blue rose petals leading up toward the gazebo. There was music playing and kids laughing, chasing each other around the emerald-green grass, their parents chattering excitedly as they looked for their seats, everyone dressed in sharp-looking shirts and silky dresses. It was a breezy spring in Miami, but still not cold enough to justify wearing a suit or jacket.

  It made the tailored jacket I slipped on feel a little stuffy, but I really didn’t even think twice about it. My brain couldn’t focus on any one particular thing. It kept bouncing around from “holy shit I’m about to get married” to “holy balls I’m about to get hitched” to “holy crap I better not trip down the aisle.”

  There was a lot going on in my head.

  Inside my house, we had the downstairs guest bedroom set up so I could get ready while Rocky got dressed upstairs.

  I grabbed a full flute of champagne and downed it in one breath. Hazel looked at me with an impressed smile.

  “Nervous? Scared?” she asked. She looked spectacular in a dark blue dress that looked like a swirling ocean whenever the light hit her just right. When she turned, golden straps popped against her tan skin, matching the golden Tiffany bracelet and necklace I had bought her for the big day.

  Ever since I was able to cash my first huge streaming check, I made sure to spend most of it spoiling everyone around me. Hazel wasn’t the only beneficiary of my found success. I had also purchased a sprawling home for my parents, moving them out of the dingy apartment building we had called home for years. I bought my grandmother a new sewing machine, and I bought my cousins a ton of video games for their birthdays. It felt good being able to give, and I made sure to give whenever I possibly could.

  “I think I’m a mix of all the things,” I said. Hazel straightened out my navy blue bow tie before realigning the golden pocket square. “Mainly dazed, though. I think that’s the biggest emotion.”

  “I can’t believe the big day is here.” Hazel smiled wide, the sunlight streaming in from the huge window casting a spotlight on her, making her eyes glow as gold as her jewelry.

  “Is everyone ready?” I asked, looking out the window but unable to see the yard. I could hear the music through the cracked open window.

  “I think so. The big question is, are you?”

  “More than ready.” I took a deep breath and made sure my shirt was tucked in nice and my suit sat on me right. “I can’t believe I’m marrying the man of my dreams today.”

  A knock on the door made us both jump. My mom peeked her head into the room. “Five-minute warning,” she said in a bubbly voice. She had been almost as giddy as me since this morning.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Wait, let me get in here. I need to see my son.”

  She came in, looking stunning in a silver dress that shimmered and glittered as she moved.

  “Oh my dear baby Jesus, you look so handsome.”

  She grabbed my face in her hands and kisse
d both cheeks. Hazel rubbed off the leftover lipstick. Both women looked me over with pride and love in their eyes. Behind Hazel, another knock came.

  It was my dad. “Ready, Sammy?”

  “Ready,” I said, straightening my suit and looking once more in the mirror as an unmarried man. In a few minutes, I’d be walking down that aisle toward the man of my dreams, surrounded by family and friends. I couldn’t be any happier. After everything we had been through, this moment felt all the sweeter.

  Hazel and my dad left the room. My mom hooked her arm, and I looped mine through it. We walked through my house, my mom saying some encouraging words but nothing really registering. I was nervous and excited and on the verge of freaking the hell out. As much as I enjoyed the spotlight when I was behind my computer screen, things changed when the attention was turned to me in the real world.

  We crossed through the living room, toward the massive sliding glass doors that were left open. The piano set up outside filled the air with its soft music. I could hear the chatter of all the wedding guests start to lessen as they realized I was about to step out.

  “I love you, Sam. And I love Rocky, too.” My mom whispered it, and then we started to walk, crossing the threshold. Everyone turned in their chairs, but I couldn’t really see any of their faces. The only face I could focus on was straight ahead of me, his bright blue eyes working as dual lighthouses, guiding me toward him.

  We walked down the aisle, every step feeling as if I bounced on a cloud. I managed to look into the crowd, spotting two faces that surprised the living heck out of me.

  I gave a small wave and an excited smile in Icey and Silk’s direction. My two besties from across the country. We had met in person about a year ago, Icey living in Texas and Silk living in Portland. Icey’s real name was Frank, and Silk’s real name was Meredith, although we still called each other by our screennames. They beamed in my direction, Icey holding Silk’s hand as Silk dabbed a tear from her eye.