by A. J. Thomas
Why the hell had he decided to try this over the phone? He couldn’t see her expression or evaluate her body language, and he couldn’t read her stunned silence at all. “Jesus, Carmen, please don’t be mad at me. I’m serious about this. I don’t know what to feel right now, and I’m probably just being an idiot anyway…. I mean, it’s not like we were serious.” Ray didn’t know what he and Elliot had been. The only thing he was sure about was that walking away from Elliot, as if last night was just sex, hurt.
And now he’d fucked things up with the only person within a thousand miles he might have been able to talk to about it. “I’m sorry….” he whispered, ending the call before she could blow up.
He set the phone on the couch and spared it a single glance when it beeped once more. A text message from Elliot demanding he call had been sent while he was on the phone.
Ray pulled up Elliot’s phone number and almost called him. He silenced his phone instead. Finishing off the last two beers and falling asleep might not help him regain his sanity, but it seemed like a pretty decent option. Ray opened up another beer, pulled a blanket out of the linen closet, and popped Pirates of the Caribbean into Hayes’s DVD player. It was one of those perfect movies Ray never had trouble sitting through again. Halfway through the movie, someone hammered on Hayes’s front door hard enough to rattle the doorframe.
No one knew he was here except the building manager, and if he was knocking on the door, it was probably important.
Ray let the movie run and checked the peephole. His sister, holding a brown grocery bag and looking furious, stood tapping her foot impatiently.
He swung the door open. “How did you get into the building?”
“Please! There’s a party every other floor in this place. I just followed a bunch of drunk kids through the front door. Take this; it’s heavy.” She shoved the bag toward him. Wine and beer bottles clanked inside. She calmly tossed her jacket onto the coat tree and let herself in. “Now, I’d like to know where you get off thinking you can say something like that, on the fucking phone of all things, and then hang up on me? What the hell, Raymond?”
“Come right in. Make yourself at home.”
“Don’t start!” She turned a long, beautifully manicured nail on him. “You hung up on me! What choice did I have? Besides, Mama was there, and I’d never be able to keep my mouth shut after something like that!”
“She’s watching the kids? And you brought beer?”
“I brought you beer. But from the smell, I’m guessing you already thought of that. I brought some wine, too, in case you needed someone to commiserate with. I don’t commiserate over beer.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
The slap across the cheek stung, but it didn’t catch him off guard. “I am absolutely furious.”
“But you’re here.”
“I’m furious that you think so little of me! Jesus, Raymond, did you honestly think I hadn’t wondered why you never found someone to settle down with? If it weren’t for all the women who hate you, I’d have just come out and asked you years ago. How long have you known? How long have you been lying to us all?”
“It hasn’t been a lie. I do like women, so I’m not gay. Bisexual, but not gay.”
“But you like a guy? Come on, spill. I want the whole story.”
Ray knew that when his sister was in this kind of mood, there was no way he’d escape unscathed. “Let me set this down.” He slumped next to her on the couch with a fresh beer and tried to hold out under her silent glare but failed. He told her an edited version of everything, one that might not scandalize his mother too much when it finally got back to her. “I just feel pathetic. Of all the fucked-up times to get weird about sex, this was the worst I could have picked. And the worst part is, Elliot’s called, like, five times tonight. I want to answer the phone, but I don’t know what to say.”
“You haven’t answered your phone?” she asked, looking at him as if he was insane. “Who are you, and what did you do with my big brother?”
He shrugged and checked his cell phone again. He’d missed another call from Elliot, and Hayes had actually called him back.
“He’s the guy in charge of the search, isn’t he? The FBI chick mentioned his name. You can’t ignore his calls, Raymond. What if he’s calling about Sophie?” she asked.
“Uh….”
“Raymond, I’m sorry you’re freaking out, but really, how weird can this be? You’ve had to work with women you’ve slept with, haven’t you? I think you need to put your ego aside and think about the bigger picture here, before I kill you.”
“My ego?” Ray squeezed his eyes shut.
He didn’t think that feeling like his world was spiraling out of control was just a question of being egotistical. But Carmen was right. He couldn’t seem to separate sex from the whole tangle of emotions warring inside him this time around, but that was no excuse for ignoring Elliot’s calls. The man was doing him a huge favor by keeping him informed during this investigation, when he could have done everything from refuse to share information to arresting Ray for obstruction of justice. He was the one who had pushed things too far; he was the one who had made things awkward, and Elliot was still trying to help him. Elliot Belkamp was a better man than he was, there was no question of that.
“You’re right.” He stared at his phone again. “I’ll call him back, see if there’s any news.”
“Might want to wait until morning, Romeo.” She poked him and staggered to her feet. “It’s nearly midnight. I’ve got to get home and come up with some excuse for being out this late.”
“If Mama cared, she’d have called.”
“Oh, she cares.” Carmen sneered. “She’s probably loving this. You know what she’ll do, just like I do. When I get home, she’ll be all quiet smiles. Then she’ll talk about me being out with strange men until the middle of the night the next time she goes to see Aunt Louisa, and within a week the whole family will be calling me a whore behind my back.”
“Yeah. That sounds about right.”
“Call him. If he’s heard anything, let me know.”
“I will.”
Less than ten minutes after Carmen left, there was another knock on the door. Ray wrenched the door open without bothering to look through the peephole. “What did you forget?” he asked.
Instead of his sister, Elliot Belkamp stood in the hallway, his eyes bloodshot and furious. He was holding a cell phone to his ear. Ray glanced at his phone on the couch. He hadn’t called Elliot back, but he hadn’t turned his phone off again, either. “I’ve got him. Thanks again for the help.” Elliot rang off and put his phone away, then moved in a blur. He lifted Ray off his feet and spun him around, throwing him into the doorframe. “Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone!” Elliot shouted.
“Got distracted.” Ray had to close his eyes to try to stop his head from spinning. “Slow down a minute, all right?”
“You’re drunk?” Elliot gaped at him. “The entire fucking world is blowing up, and you’re drunk?”
Ray looked Elliot up and down. He was drunk, but he wasn’t totally out of it. Elliot was technically in a suit, but it was filthy, covered in red dust, mud, black soot, and speckles of what was probably blood. “You’re hurt?” Ray tried to check Elliot for injuries despite being pinned. “Put me down.” The moment his feet touched the floor, he dragged Elliot inside. He shut the door and set the deadbolt fast, then shoved Elliot’s jacket aside to see if he was actually bleeding. “Where are you bleeding?”
“What?” Elliot deflated. “No. Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?”
“I was visiting with my sister. She brought beer. What happened?”
“What hasn’t happened?”
He cupped Elliot’s face in a gesture that was far too intimate for his current state of mind. He dropped his hands fast, as if Elliot’s skin burned him.
“Four men with assault rifles were waiting for us at my house when I got home to
night. Along with your cousin Alejandro.”
Ray felt like his heart stopped. “And you’re not hurt?” He bent down to check the dark stains on Elliot’s shirt and jacket closely.
“Stop that!” Elliot grabbed Ray’s shoulders. “I’m a soldier. I’m still a bit paranoid about walking into an ambush, even after all this time. I’m not sure that ever goes away. Oddly enough, I have your cousin to thank for not getting shot. Your cousin took out three of the others while I was calling for backup. I disarmed the fourth, but Alejandro stood there rambling until my backup showed up. He warned me they were after you, so I called St. Claire because someone was supposed to go to the hotel to check on you. After that, a lot of people went to the hotel to check on you, because it blew the fuck up!”
“What?”
“Dozens of firefighters, the entire bomb squad, and a dozen cops spent the night sifting through burned crap looking for your body! Don’t you care about that? And you couldn’t be bothered to answer your phone!”
“Someone blew up my hotel room?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
“Like, with a bomb?”
Elliot gaped at him.
Ray thought about his own question and shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, stupid question. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what was going on. And I should have answered anyway. But why were they after me?”
“Luca Garcia wasn’t some small-time Garcia brat. He was the son of one of their top enforcers, and your cousin Alejandro shot him in the head because Luca had the audacity to date your cousin’s sister and break into your apartment. I think that’s bullshit, personally. I think he went to confront Garcia about the money, the kid said he handed the laptop over to you and told Alejandro he could get it back, and your cousin shot him when he couldn’t deliver. Somehow, Esteban Garcia has come to the conclusion you’re the one who killed him.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Do you think he cares which one of you killed him?”
Ray shrugged. He grabbed Elliot’s arm to steady himself as the world swayed. “Do you need to call your boss? Let her know you tracked me down? And, while I’m thinking about it, how did you find me? Because if someone went to the trouble of finding you at your house and going after the hotel your boss set up, they could have followed you here. We should move.”
Elliot’s lips turned up at the corner. “The only person who knows either of us is here is your partner, Hayes. I called him to ask if there was some place in the city you’d go if you felt threatened. He said he didn’t know about that, but that the GPS signal from your phone said you’d been in his apartment all day.”
“Oh yeah.” Ray grinned and glanced at his phone. “Still, someone could have tailed you easily enough.”
“Doubt it. I got an SUV from the motor pool, and I’ve been driving around at random for the last hour. And they didn’t need to follow me to find my house or your hotel.”
“They have someone in your office?”
Elliot dropped his hands from Ray’s shoulders and shrugged. “St. Claire is looking into it.”
Ray didn’t want to point out that his new boss was the one likely to have given away his name and address. They were obviously friends, even if Elliot hadn’t been assigned to San Diego for long. “You know, her phone might be compromised, if someone has access to your office.” He let the unspoken suggestion hang there. She might be compromised.
“Gee, thank you for pointing that out.” Elliot rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell phone and turned toward the empty apartment. Ray stared after him, listening as Elliot told his boss that he’d found Ray alive and safe and that they were somewhere secure. He ended the call with a clipped, “Understood.”
Ray took a deep breath, relieved that Elliot hadn’t actually told her where they were. He’d trust most of the people in Homicide, and Elliot for some reason, but the only thing he knew about Penelope St. Claire was that she was fairly new to the Gang Task Force, she could still potentially charge him with assaulting a federal officer, and she could probably kick his ass. As impressive as that list was, it wasn’t enough to persuade Ray to gamble his life.
Elliot rubbed his eyes and groaned. “St. Claire said I should take you home to San Jose for a while.”
“You’re from San Jose?”
“No. And she knows it. There were other agents in the office with her.”
“Smart and violent—I like her. You look horrible, by the way.”
Elliot glared at him.
“Which I realize is partly my fault, I know. I just meant you should sit down, maybe go take a shower. I’ll get you some food and a drink while you do that.”
The glare softened a little. “Is there food? I’m starving.”
Ray touched Elliot’s elbow and pulled him toward the kitchen. He shoved Elliot into a chair at the small kitchen table and pulled out the leftovers he’d been planning on eating tomorrow. “I made salmon.” He arranged a plate of salmon, asparagus, and brown rice and popped it all into the microwave. “It’s never as good the second day, so you’ve got good timing.”
“How is it Hayes’s stuff is still all here? Does he own this place?”
“Yeah, he owns it. This apartment is the first real home he ever had, and he worked his ass off to get it. Six years of overtime, and even then, if the housing market hadn’t tanked, he never would have been able to afford it. Even if he isn’t being an unrealistic sap about this fling with his cowboy, I figure hell will freeze over before the thinks about putting it on the market.”
“An unrealistic sap?”
“I’m feeding you, you can put up with my being a cynic.” When the microwave beeped, Ray set the plate on the table and opened Elliot a beer.
“How much do you think I eat?” Elliot laughed, digging into the pile of brown rice.
“Not enough. If you finish that, I’ll make you something else.”
Elliot glanced out at the large balcony while he ate. “This place has one hell of a view.”
Ray was very familiar with that view. He and Hayes had sat out on the balcony and shared a beer when Ray helped him move in. The apartment’s balcony had clear views of Mission Bay, Coronado, and the downtown skyline glittered in the darkness. That alone was worth the price Hayes paid to hold onto it each month.
Ray grabbed another beer for himself and sat down across from Elliot, wondering what the hell he should say to the man. Before yesterday, conversation had been so easy, so effortless. Now, when he didn’t even want to think the things he wanted to say, Ray wasn’t sure what to do. Through the alcohol haze, he decided to focus on work instead. He glanced up and met Elliot’s smiling expression. “What?”
“Never would have figured you for a quiet drunk.”
Ray spared Elliot’s plate an approving glance. The salmon, vegetables, and the three extra servings of rice were all gone. “I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted.
“I told you it was no big deal.” Elliot shrugged and took a long pull from his bottle of beer. “You were hard up. So was I. It was fun. I don’t see that there’s anything to talk about.”
“You don’t?” Ray almost choked.
“Not really.” Elliot sat back and sighed. “If you want to talk, feel free, but I think we can both be professional about things. I mean, you were the one who suggested we could fuck each other, and things wouldn’t be weird. I thought we were on the same page.”
“What happened to looking for someone special?” Ray asked, unwilling to think about the stab of disappointment he felt. Elliot writing off last night as if it didn’t matter was the best solution he could have hoped for. Ray wasn’t supposed to feel disappointed over it.
“That hasn’t changed,” said Elliot. “But until this case is over, and Luca Garcia’s father gets it through his head that you didn’t kill his little boy, we’re stuck together. And we’re stuck here.”
Ray took another drink, even though the world was starting to sway when he was sitting perfectly sti
ll. He held Elliot’s gaze for a moment, then dropped his eyes. He stared at the mouth of his beer bottle, trying to analyze why Elliot’s green eyes made him feel uncomfortable.
Being so blatantly scrutinized made him squirm, as if Elliot’s gaze was stabbing straight through the jumbled thoughts in his head, ripping away the logic and analysis he used as a shield and laying bare the fact that he just wasn’t good enough. He would never be good enough. When he’d been too confused and too relaxed to think about what he was saying, he’d said things that were too stupid and too insulting to take back. He’d slept with too many people, used too many people, for someone like Elliot to ever consider Ray eligible for a starring role in the fairy tale he was so damn committed to. He couldn’t think of any way to fix it. He didn’t even know why he wanted to fix it.
“What’s wrong?” Elliot asked, his voice quiet, his face unreadable.
Ray kept his eyes on the bottle in his hand. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
Elliot shoved his chair back and rose to his feet. He drained his beer fast and pulled Ray up out of his chair. “Come on, it’s time to tuck you in.”
Ray stumbled as Elliot half carried him back to the apartment’s one bedroom. Elliot lowered him onto the bed and tried to slip away, but Ray snaked his arms around Elliot’s neck, wanting to hold on to him.
“Delgado.” Elliot laughed and tried to escape. “I need a shower. I need sleep. And you’re about to pass out.”
“Please wait.” Ray took a deep breath and forced himself to look up and meet Elliot’s gaze. “Can I ask you something?”
Ray felt the world spin as Elliot nodded.
“Since we’re stuck together anyway, do you think maybe we could just sort of pretend?”
“Pretend?”
“Yeah. Just pretend that you’re not holding out for a fairy tale? And pretend that I can be….”
“Pretend you’re not an asshole?” Elliot suggested, grinning.
Ray shrugged and smiled. “Pretend I’m worth a damn? That I can be what you want? Just until this shit is over?” he asked.
“I still need a shower.” He shifted out of Ray’s grasp, then bent over him again. Elliot brushed his lips against Ray’s gently. “But I think I’m up for that.”