Long Way Home

LONG WAY HOME

Carolyn Gray

www.loose-id.com

Long Way Home Copyright © October 2011 by Carolyn Gray All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

eISBN 978-1-61118-566-9 Editor: Raven McKnight Cover Artist: April Martinez Published in the United States of America

Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 809 San Francisco CA 94104-0809 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

*** DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

Dedication For my Nick, who always believed in my ability to soar. And also a special and very heartfelt thank-you to my editor, Raven McKnight, for all her hard work and encouragement. I could not have made this book shine without you.

Chapter One “Fifteen minutes!” Marisa barked out as she rushed backstage, clipboard in hand and a harried look on her face. For a split second, everyone paused in their preshow preparations. She stopped cold, turned, and glared. “Get cracking, guys! Now!” Everyone sprang into action— doing exactly what they’d been doing before she interrupted. Lee sat with his bass in the corner and watched. Technicians, their mics squawking in their ears, rushed about seemingly disorganized, though he knew they were anything but. Excitement etched their faces, their movements frantic as props were arranged, lights checked, and techno kits placed in readiness. Tommy’s various guitars were brought in by his assistant; a piano was rolled into its waiting spot for those numbers that would require it. Siobhan, the opening act’s lead singer, jumped up and down on her toes, stretching in preparation to go on. She glanced over at Lee and smiled, lifting her hand and waving. All was nearly ready and would be on time, as it had been for every show so far and would be until the last one went live. Everyone who was a part of Dream—whether lifers like him or new kids like Travis, who’d taken Brandon’s place on guitar after Brandon moved to writing exclusively—knew exactly what they were doing. The preshow madness amused him in a way, but it had never included him, despite his being with Dream longer than anyone other than Nick, the singer himself. All Lee needed was his bass, and he was all set. This was the final week of their first six-month tour since all hell had broken loose the year before. Tonight’s show, then the last city only a plane ride away, and the tour would finally be over. He loved his job—it was his life, really—but he was more than ready to relax and let go of this constant, edgy unease that always seemed to nag at him when they were away from Durango. The routine of life on the road, the music, the adrenaline-packed hum of the audiences, did much to alleviate that worry, as did Nick’s cheerful insistence that all would be fine, they’d been through the worst, and their quota for bad times had been filled. But try as best he could, the need to be careful and keep watch over his friends never left Lee. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, though. Dream’s popularity had skyrocketed over the course of the tour; sellout crowds were now the norm. The intensity had heightened, and with that came the possibility of some crazy fan going too far. He would never let that happen again. Tommy’s return had helped, at least. Everyone’s end-of-tour tiredness had disappeared when their lead guitarist, almost fully recovered from the last of the surgeries he’d had to have after the explosion that had nearly killed him, finally took his proper place onstage. Dream was almost whole again.

2

Carolyn Gray

As Lee fiddled with his bass’s tuning, he watched as Sam and Tommy talked with flailing hands about the crowd outside. Sam darted over to the edge of the stage, behind the curtain, and gestured to Tommy. Sam’s drumsticks stuck out of his back pocket—the one back pocket he still had. The other had been ripped off. That boy needed to go shopping. “Come here,” Sam half shouted to him. “You gotta see this crowd. It’s fucking unreal!” Lee waved him away. When the lights went down, it didn’t matter how big or small the crowd was, just that people came. Tommy joined Sam, but when he did, a surge of excitement burst from the crowd—they’d been spotted. Laughing, the two idiots scampered back. Not surprisingly, Sam stuck his head out again, waving to the audience. “Cut it out,” Lee called out to him. “Want to start a riot?” “For him?” Tommy said. “That’ll be the day. On the other hand—” He stuck his head through the curtains and was immediately rewarded with hoots, clapping, and a ringing chorus of “We love you, Tommy.” Sam yanked the beaming guitarist back. “For me, though? Yeah.” Lee didn’t doubt it. His glee evident, Sam headed toward Lee. “Just getting them warmed up, that’s all,” Sam said. “Nervous as usual, Lee?” Tommy teased. “No,” Lee said, but Tommy was distracted. “Second-to-last stop. Hard to believe. Wish there were more.” His voice was wistful. “Only because you just got your lazy ass back here,” Sam said. “I for one am seriously ready for a break. I’m sick of planes, trains, buses, donkeys…” “You guys rode donkeys?” “Yup.” Lee idly played his fingers over the strings of his bass. “Mules, actually. Buenos Aires.” “Damn, I missed all the fun.” Tommy ran one hand through his hair until it stood on end. Sam ruffled Tommy’s hair—or tried to. Tommy was too quick for him. “Yeah, you did,” Sam said. “That’s what you get for getting yourself blown up.” “Hey, got here as fast as I could.” “Fast as your wife let you, you mean.” Tommy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Um. Yeah.” He laughed. “And I can’t wait to get back.” “Whipped,” Sam said, leaning into Tommy’s ear. “Jealous,” Tommy said, pushing him away. “True,” Sam said. “Life of a lonely bachelor sucks, doesn’t it, Lee?” Lee shrugged. “Not so lonely.” He was used to it, after all. Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “Lee, old man, something you’re trying to tell us? Don’t tell me you and Maya got back together?” “Dude,” Sam said to Tommy. “They’re not—” “It’s all right, Sam. No,” Lee said to Tommy, stomping on that idea. Tommy winced. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to step in that one.”

Long Way Home

3

“No problem.” The subject of Maya was carefully avoided, though he didn’t mind talking about her. They were still friends, after all. More or less. Sam nodded over toward Siobhan. “You and Siobhan, I’ve seen you together when no one was looking.” Lee tensed. He forced himself to relax, then smiled. “Sorry, guys, no woman in my life. Siobhan and I are friends.” Tommy scratched his chin. “Come to think of it, there’s a lot we don’t know about you.” “Not much to tell,” Lee said, trying for nonchalance and thankfully succeeding. Neither looked suspicious. Sam pulled his drumsticks out of his back pocket and tapped out a quick rhythm on a box. “That’s our Lee, man of mystery.” Lee reached out with a foot and shoved at Sam, who yelped as Marisa emerged from the dressing-room hallway, still toting her clipboard. She scowled in their direction, making Sam cringe guiltily. “She didn’t see that was me, did she?” “Marking your name down on her clipboard even as we speak,” Lee said. “You’d best escape while you can.” “You’re not bothered.” “Nope.” Lee fingered some chords. Marisa grabbed a beleaguered-looking technician and shoved her clipboard at him, stabbing it with one finger. Lee admired how quickly he escaped. Everyone feared Marisa when she had that thing with her—except Lee. He and Marisa had come to an understanding long before. They were both there for the guys, in different ways. He watched over them; she ranted at them. Both kept the band going when they were on the road, though it was, technically, Marisa’s job. She’d learned quickly to make him her ally. Marisa headed their way. “Watch out. Here she comes,” Lee said. Sam whipped around, ducked behind Tommy, and peered over the guitarist’s shoulder. “Oh, God, she does look pissed.” “What you do this time?” Tommy said, moving away. “Nothing, I swear! I, uh, better go change. Can’t wear these holey things onstage.” He showed his backside. Plaid showed through where his pocket had been ripped off. Tommy smacked him on the rear. “What’d you do, get too close to a fan?” Sam grimaced. “Actually, yeah.” He shuddered. “Kinda creepy, some strange woman sleeping with my pocket.” “Sam, Lee, I need to talk to you both,” Marisa called out. Sam yelped and bolted between two technicians. “What does it matter? You sit down the whole time anyway,” Tommy yelled after Sam, then followed him with a huff. “I’m the one out in front of everyone…” Someone else stopped Marisa. Could take her another five minutes to get across to him. Lee settled back to watch, searching the faces, the uneasy feeling gone again. There wasn’t a thing wrong except his imagination. Just because things had gone so bad once before for them all didn’t mean it would ever happen again. Lee was glad the tour would end after the coming weekend, so he could get away for a while, sort his head out. He couldn’t help it. Maybe he would never be convinced nothing bad

4

Carolyn Gray

would ever happen again. Twice in his life, he’d lost someone he cared deeply about; only one had ever returned—Nick. Things came in threes. Everyone knew that. And he was headed for the city where he’d lost the other one permanently. That could be it, he realized. The closer they got to Dallas, the more restless he became. Free at last, Marisa hurried over to Lee. “Where’s Sam? I just saw him.” “Went to change. What do you need?” Marisa sighed, dropping the clipboard to her side. “Got any extra sanity? Siobhan goes on in”—she checked her watch—“ten minutes, and I still have so much to do. And now the cops want to talk to us.” The cops? He tensed. “Why? Can’t it wait until after the show?” “Apparently not. Can you fetch Nick? He ignored my banging on his door. I need everyone not on with Siobhan in the greenroom in fifteen minutes.” She checked her watch again. “Five minutes. Please?” “No problem. Nick’s probably talking to Brandon.” She rolled her eyes. “Get him, will you?” Lee left her without a word. It pissed him off that she still persisted in her dislike for Nick’s partner. Without Brandon, Dream would never have found the success they had— wouldn’t have existed at all—and she knew it. He was ready for a break from Marisa’s snide remarks. The cops wanting to talk to them right before a show was a nice little addition to the stack of reasons he was glad this tour was almost done. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he would do with himself once it was over, other than his collaborations with Brandon. Even those would take a backseat for a couple of months, though. Nick would go back to Durango—to Brandon—and wouldn’t want to share his time with anyone else for a while. Mutt and his partner, Greg, Nick’s chef, would follow. Tommy would return to his wife. Sam, more than likely, would head off to visit his parents and take them all the insane gifts he’d bought during the tour. Marisa… Well, he couldn’t give a damn what she did. One thing was for certain—no one waited for him. Lee knocked on the door marked with Nick’s name. The boys had made a giant sparkly star for Nick, which he pretended embarrassed him, though Lee knew he secretly loved it. A gold star for a star. Boy, was he. Nick had totally rocked this tour. Lee loved seeing his friend shine again. He’d always known Nick Kilmain would steal the world’s hearts. And he had, though it’d nearly cost both him and Brandon everything. That was all in the past now. Nick and the others—even Brandon, who’d dealt with so much—all seemed to understand that. Why he himself couldn’t, Lee wasn’t sure. Guilt, probably, Maya had told him while she was packing. If she’d only known how right she was. He knocked on the door again. No answer. He turned the knob and peered in. Empty. Now where had Nick gone off to? He closed the door behind him, then walked down the corridor and peeked into the kitchen—nothing. And the bathroom was wide open. He passed a couple of the light techs; one, Mitch, gave him a nod. “Seen Nick?” Lee asked.

Long Way Home

5

“Yeah, last door down the hall.” The other roadie smacked Mitch on the arm. “You weren’t supposed to tell.” He glared at Mitch, then at Lee. “He told us to tell no one.” Mitch said, “He meant don’t tell Marisa.” Lee’s mouth quirked as he walked past. “Thanks, guys.” The last room at the end of the corridor happened to be his own. He tested the knob. Locked. He rapped on the door. “Busy!” came the muffled reply. “Nick, it’s Lee.” The click of the door lock was followed by a gleeful laugh and the sound of Nick leaping back. Lee turned the knob and walked in. Nick sat on the one chair in the room—a horrendous green-and-pink-striped thing—a cell phone pressed to his ear. He gestured for Lee to close the door. “Lee’s here. I guess it’s almost time.” Nick sighed dramatically, fanning himself with an envelope. He listened to Brandon’s answer as he slit open the envelope and peered inside. “Ballet tickets. What? Sorry, baby, someone sent me ballet tickets.” He made a face. “I don’t want them.” He looked up at Lee and held the envelope out. “Brandon says you should take them.” Lee startled. “Me? Ballet?” He took the envelope and pulled out a ticket. The North Texas Ballet. In Dallas. His stomach roiled, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Haven’t been to a ballet in years,” he said, trying for casual. Nick laughed, snatching the tickets back. “He adores them!” he said into the cell. “He’s actually been to the ballet before.” “I didn’t say I adore ballet, only that I’ve been.” “What?” Nick said into the phone. “He thinks I should go with you,” he said to Lee. “I also didn’t say I was going. You should, though.” Lee nudged him. “All those boys in tights.” Nick’s eyes glittered. He looked at the tickets again. “They’re for Sunday. When’s your plane out of there? Wait. I don’t even know when mine’s out. Brandon, when’s my plane?” He made a face, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. “I don’t know. You look. Don’t you have the schedule? Katie should’ve given you the sched—Yeah. I knew she had. Ha. Monday? Damn. I want to come home Sunday,” he said, on the edge of a pout. “Marisa did it on purpose. I know it. She likes us to suffer, I swear.” He paused. “Fine, fine, okay. I’ll go. If Lee will.” He glanced up at Lee with pleading eyes. Caught now. Lee chuckled. “No problem, Brandon,” he said, hoping Brandon could hear. Nick scowled, slumping down in his chair. “Wish I’d torn up the damn things.” Lee leaned against the door as he waited for Brandon to coax Nick back into a smile. By the time they hung up, Nick’s good humor had returned. “You’re mean,” Nick said as he got up from the chair and pushed the envelope against Lee’s chest. Lee turned it over in his hands. “You sure this was for you?” Lee asked. Nick looked in the mirror, grabbed an eye pencil out of his shirt pocket, and fixed his eye where he’d smudged it slightly. “I assume so.” He made a face at himself. “I am so sick of this

6

Carolyn Gray

stuff,” he said, throwing down the pencil. He looked up at Lee. “The price of fame. Brandon was smart to retire to songwriting. It’s still early. Did Marisa send you to find me? I heard her banging on my door earlier. I swear she always knows when I’m talking to Brandon. So I hid here.” “Yes, she sent me to fetch you. The cops want to talk to us in the greenroom.” “Now?” All silliness disappeared. “Is something wrong?” “I don’t think so.” Lee had never told Nick about his constant state of unease. Nick didn’t need to hear that, would take it to heart that something was really wrong, and that was the last thing Nick needed before getting onstage. “I’m not sure, though. She wants us all in the main room.” Nick took a deep breath and tugged his shirt into place. “Okay, fine. We haven’t received any more of those weird e-mails, have we?” “What e-mails?” Nick waved him away. “Don’t look like that. Just, someone keeps sending me e-mails with pictures of us. Some helpful fan.” He made a face. “Which e-mail?” “Web site one, don’t fret.” “I’m not fretting,” Lee said. At Nick’s look, he shrugged. “All right, sorry. Habit.” Nick slipped his shoes on. “Not a bad habit.” He laid a hand on Lee’s arm. “I know you worry, Lee, but I’m okay.” Lee let out his breath. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” Nick wrapped an arm around Lee’s neck, though he had to reach up to do it. “I like you all protective, but you should enjoy yourself more.” He patted Lee’s cheek. “You’re too serious. You need to have some fun for a change. Ever since Maya—” Lee’s look made Nick stop. “I’ll try, okay?” Lee said. Nick didn’t look convinced. “I will. Starting with that ballet.” Nick released him, then rubbed his hands together, his eyes bright with success. “Awesome. We’ll have fun, I swear. Then maybe we can go do something else.” “Like what?” Lee opened the door, gesturing for Nick to precede him. “Go eat pancakes?” “Living wild in Big D. Sure.” Lee checked the time. Siobhan should be going on any second. They would have forty-five minutes after she started, maybe longer. Audiences usually clamored for more once they heard how good she was. “So, no idea who the tickets came from?” he asked Nick. Nick passed him. “Nope.” Lee closed the door behind them and followed. “It isn’t on the envelope, so I don’t know.” “Odd.” They reached the greenroom. Almost everyone else was inside, lounging on sofas and cushioned chairs. “Yeah, that is weird,” Nick said.

Long Way Home

7

“What’s weird?” Marisa zeroed in on them. “Nothing.” Nick headed toward a folding chair, but Sam popped up, motioning for Nick to take his cushioned seat instead. Nick was their star, after all. “Thanks.” He reached out and squeezed Sam’s shoulder before taking the offered spot. “Some tickets for a ballet in Dallas. Lee’s going with me,” he added to Marisa. Sam joined Lee, leaning against the wall. “You? Ballet?” “I’ve been to a few,” Lee said. “Who gave them to you?” Tommy asked Nick. “Don’t know.” Marisa didn’t look thrilled. “I don’t like the sound of that.” Nick waved her concerns away. “Don’t be silly. I get stuff like this all the time.” He glared at Lee. “I shouldn’t have told Brandon and Lee. They’re making me go.” “Where’s Mutt?” Sam said, looking around. “Here.” The voice came from behind Lee. The bodyguard shouldered his way into the greenroom, Greg following him. Now it was quite packed—Marisa, Tommy and his assistant, Sam, Travis, Mutt, Greg, Lee, and, of course, Nick. One last person came in, then closed the door. Lee didn’t recognize him. The mystery man cleared his throat. Everyone fell silent. He looked at them all, his expression grim. “I’m Detective Pete Durham with the New Orleans PD. Unfortunately, I have some bad news. There’s been a death threat. We have to cancel the show.” Lee stared at the detective in surprise, wondering if his instinct that something was odd had been right. Nick would not like this. As he expected him to, Nick flew out of his chair, yelling, “No way! I am not canceling the show!” The others exploded as well. Lee looked over at Marisa, her face set. He knew then she supported the detective’s decision. He crossed his arms and waited for the second explosion, but he was on edge now, angry that someone would pull a stunt like this for kicks and worried that it could be real. He didn’t take any of their safety for granted. He glanced at Tommy. No one’s. “Everyone, calm down. Let the detective speak,” Marisa said. She placed a hand on Nick’s arm. “Nick, we can’t—” He straightened, pulling his arm from Marisa’s grasp. He looked down at her, his jaw clenched, his blue eyes vibrant with anger. “We are not canceling.” He flung his hand out in the general direction of the waiting crowd. The huge, excited, waiting crowd, already enjoying Siobhan’s performance. “I am not going to disappoint those fans over some stupid death threat.” “No death threat is stupid,” Durham interrupted. The thunderous look on Nick’s face didn’t deter him. Tommy moved over next to Lee, grimacing when their eyes met. “You don’t understand how dangerous this situation is.” “Uh-oh,” Tommy muttered. Lee had to agree. Nick turned to the detective, his gaze hard. “You apparently don’t know this, Detective—I know all too well how dangerous it is. Our entire lives are dangerous. I am keenly aware there is more than one psycho out there, perhaps waiting for his chance to possibly kidnap me again. I live this, every single day. I remember what it was like, every single day, to live without hope, to

8

Carolyn Gray

think I might die any second. And I nearly did.” He looked pointedly at Tommy. “And we nearly lost Tommy too.” Tommy shifted against Lee, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m not afraid to go on.” “Me either,” Sam said. Nick looked pointedly at Lee. “I’m always behind you. You know that,” Lee said despite himself. Marisa huffed. “You guys can’t be ser—” “Marisa, be quiet,” Nick said. She pressed her lips together. Lee knew it was a struggle, as she only wanted everyone to be safe. Nick gestured to the room at large. “We’re going onstage.” “I can’t guarantee your safety. “ Nick snorted. “No one can. The show is continuing.” Frustration flashed across the detective’s face, and Lee couldn’t really blame him. But Nick was stubborn, and there would be no changing his mind. Fortunately the detective saw it too. “Okay. I’ll need more time, though, to get my people here and in line.” “Siobhan has at least twenty-five minutes,” Marisa said. “Is that enough?” “I have an idea,” Sam said, bounding forward. Marisa tried to cut him off, but he wouldn’t be deterred. Sam gestured at Mutt. “I mean, to keep an eye on things. Give Mutt a guitar, and put him out there close to Tommy. No one will notice him, but he can watch over Nick from there.” “Even if my hands don’t move?” Mutt said. Lee liked it. He pushed off from the wall. “I’ll be on his other side, Travis behind him. I’ll watch the crowd. It won’t throw me off.” “I can help out too, in the audience,” Greg said. He was almost as imposing as Mutt. Nick looked triumphantly up at the detective. “The fans went through a metal detector coming in, right?” The detective spread his hands in defeat. “Yes, and nothing dangerous was found. All right, Mr. Kilmain, have your show. Once I get my people into place.” Lee placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Send Tommy out to entertain the crowd a few minutes after Siobhan gets off. That should buy enough time.” Sam clapped Tommy on the shoulder. “Yeah, we can darken the stage; he can explain there’s a slight technical problem with the lights, and if it’s not fixed in ten minutes, we’ll come out anyway and play with flashlights.” The expression on Tommy’s face was priceless. He looked like a kid with a shiny new toy. “Yes! Please, Nick? I’d love to. You never let me have guitar solos anymore.” “Can’t do a solo from a hospital bed, dork,” Nick said. “Okay, go. Charm the crowd; they’ll love seeing you. But we’ll be out there soon as we’re given the go-ahead, okay?” Tommy bounced on his toes, then flew from the room. “Are we sure that boy was nearly blown to bits ten months ago?” Sam said before he trailed after Tommy with the rest following. The detective turned to Nick. “Wait here.”

Long Way Home

9

Nick folded his arms over his chest. “No. I’ll wait backstage. With Lee.” Durham did not looked pleased, but he gave up and left. Nick immediately whirled on Marisa. “You supported this.” Her eyes widened. “Of course I did. After all you’ve been through, I’ll never, ever take a death threat lightly.” She folded her arms over her chest, meeting his glare with one of her own. Nick threw up his hands. “Fine. Okay. I’m sorry—you’re right. I promise I don’t have a death wish. We’ll go out there and prove that we don’t scare easily. Okay? And then,” he added gleefully to Lee, “we’ll talk more about the ballet and what else we can do in Dallas that’s fun.” He took off then, leaving Lee with Marisa. “He’s going to be the death of me,” she said. “I’m glad you’re going with him to this ballet, though. Who sent him the tickets?” “Don’t know.” “Any chance you can talk him out of going?” “No, but I’d be happy to try.” Boy, would he. She smirked at that. “Good luck with that. I wish I could shake this bad feeling, but it simply won’t leave me alone, you know?” “I know. I can’t shake it either.” He followed her out of the greenroom to track down Nick. But despite the supposed death threat, it wasn’t Nick he was worried about. It was himself.

10

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Two The concert went off without a hitch. Lee kept his mind only half on his playing, his gaze constantly sweeping the crowd, looking for a hint, any hint, of who could’ve sent that threat. But the crowd was no different than any other crowd, full of screaming, happy fans, all of whom, he knew, felt a special bond with Dream’s singer. Nick was very good at using that connection, though he never gave a hint he wasn’t genuinely thrilled. And, of course, he was. Lee had hoped, once Tommy rejoined them and the hell of the last year was firmly behind them, life would settle back into its usual routine. That he could permanently forget about the horror of Nick’s captivity and all the memories of Lee’s own past it had evoked. Nick carried many physical scars from his time in that sadist’s hands, but his spirit hadn’t broken—though it’d come close when it was Brandon hurting, not himself. He had endured as only a man could who knew he was deeply loved by his erstwhile partner, his friends, and yes, his fans. Lee envied him. Those fans now were held in rapture as Nick sang one of the quieter songs, a song Lee had helped Brandon write back in days gone by, when he was still touring with them. Lee’d never tried his hand at writing music before then, but the deep tones of the bass absolutely set off Nick’s voice. He’d played the song so long, he could do it automatically, even engrossed with studying the crowd around him. For the first time that evening, he realized how tiring keeping vigilant was. Mutt seemed to be enjoying himself, set back a little behind Nick, a guitar stuck in his hands. No one in the audience knew he couldn’t play a damn note—which was okay, since his guitar wasn’t plugged in. Lee wondered what the reviews would say the next day about the new guy showing up for the concert. Mutt would enjoy that, as well. And Greg would finally have something to razz his partner about. Tommy was enjoying himself too. Putting him out onstage first had been a good precaution, and it’d certainly made Tommy a happy camper. Lee took a deep breath, closing his eyes as Nick’s voice carried over the hushed room. It was nice to enjoy some peace and quiet, as much as anyone could possibly get while on the stage of a concert hall that held twenty-five thousand people. Lee’s fingers ran through the song, never missing a note. One false note could destroy so much. At last the concert was over, and exhausted but jubilant, as nothing bad had happened, they left the packing to the crew and headed for the airport. Everyone except him was excited about going to Dallas, but there was no escape. Unfortunately. While the others boarded the plane, he straggled behind, the last to board. He put his gear away and took his place next to Mutt. After strapping in, he closed his eyes.

Long Way Home

11

“You’re not thinking of ways to escape going to the ballet with me, are you?” No, though he wished he could skip Dallas altogether. Lee opened one eye. Nick sat in his seat, facing Lee. He didn’t like to sit backward, as he called it. It made him sick. “I said I would go.” And Lee regretted that now. Not like he’d had a choice, though—he’d always found it pretty impossible to refuse Nick. Nick tapped his fingers on the armrest. “I looked up where it’s going to be. A theater called the Majestic. It has an interesting history.” Lee debated whether to admit he’d seen it, been in it. Then he thought, why not? “It’s small, but it’s pretty nice. What are they dancing, anyway?” “You know it? The theater, I mean?” “I’ve been to Dallas,” Lee said. Nick shrugged. “I knew that, but that doesn’t mean you’d been to the theater. I should get a tracker device for you. I never know where you go or what you do. Drives me crazy.” Lee said to Siobhan, who sat on his other side, “You’d cut it off for me, right?” She bumped her shoulder against his. “What are friends for?” Nick scowled at her. “I should separate you two,” he muttered. He pulled his iPhone out, and after a few minutes, he whistled. “This is nice. Actually, it’s a program with different kinds of modern dance and classical dance. So we’ll get a nice variety.” He waggled his eyebrows as he scrolled through the Web site. “Nice nice,” he murmured. “Let me guess. The dancers,” Siobhan teased. “Pretties to look at, that’s why you’re excited.” He pointed at her. “And this is why I hired you. Wise beyond your ken.” Siobhan caught Lee’s eye; he was grateful for her easy relationship with Nick. He settled back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining his own reaction to the dancers. He’d always liked the type—the lithe bodies, the strength, the way they moved. Tommy plopped next to Nick and strapped in. “Sam’s already asleep, and we haven’t even left yet. What are you looking at?” He peered at Nick’s iPhone. “Oh. Ballet.” He tapped the iPhone. “Hey now, that boy’s kinda cute. Does Brandon know you’re drooling over ballet dancers?” Nick eyed him. “I’m only looking, you know.” “He does realize you’re going, right?” “Of course he does. He told me I had to.” Greg looked up from his magazine. “Those weren’t for you. They were for Lee.” Lee startled, but Nick’s exclamation covered his reaction. “For Lee? You gave them to me.” Greg laughed. “And you were going into his dressing room, remember? I asked you to give them to him.” “Oh.” “Obviously you were distracted.” “Brandon called, so I forgot.” Nick looked sheepish. “Sorry, Lee. I guess I hijacked your tickets.”

12

Carolyn Gray

Lee pulled the envelope out of his pocket and looked at the tickets again, turning them over in his hand. Still no clues, but now that he knew they’d been sent to him, that vaguely disturbed feeling was back. Which, of course, was ridiculous. It wasn’t completely unheard of for him to get gifts from fans too, even if he wasn’t the heartthrob of the group, not by a long shot. And this was Dallas, so anything having to do with the city put him on edge. “Know anyone that would send them to you?” Siobhan asked. “No,” Lee said. The only people he knew anymore in Dallas were his friend Ruby and Stefan’s family. And they sure as hell wouldn’t send tickets to him. It had to be random. “I would’ve made you go with me anyway,” he said to Nick. Then, hoping he’d have an answer but figuring not, “Greg, who gave them to you?” “Some delivery guy said to give them to you.” Mutt cleared his throat. Greg rolled his eyes at him. “And don’t look at me like that. The guy had on a courier outfit, and it was just an envelope.” “What company name was it?” Mutt said. Greg hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m a chef, not a cop. Is it that big of a deal?” “Probably not,” Mutt said. “But I’ll be going with you two,” he added to Nick and Lee. “I thought you guys were headed to New York after Dallas,” Nick said. “Not until Tuesday morning,” Greg said. “You’d be back Monday, right?” “Yeah,” Mutt said. “Besides, it’ll take more than Lee to handle Nick a couple of extra days.” Nick made a face, and Lee chuckled as he was expected to, but he was relieved. Mutt being there was a good thing for many reasons. Not just for Nick, either. “I’m sure we can get another ticket. Where are the seats, Lee?” The plane began to move then, and they didn’t say anything else until it’d taken off and leveled out. Lee looked at the tickets while their flight attendant asked them what they would like to drink. “They’re in a box,” he said. Nick patted Tommy’s arm. “Hey, we can fit a lot of people in a box. You can go with us too.” Tommy pulled back. “Oh no. No, thanks! I, uh, when is it?” “Sunday.” “Oh, dear, have plans already.” He swiped the air with his hand. “I’ll be flying home to my lovely lady’s waiting arms—and bed—Sunday morning.” He grinned, his face turning a vivid shade of pink. “Uh, I have something to tell you guys, by the way.” Siobhan said, “You’re pregnant?” Tommy’s face fell. “How did you know?” She settled back, smug. “Women know things.” “Your grin’s goofier than usual,” Lee said. Nick wrapped his arm around Tommy and pulled him down. He rubbed the guitarist’s head with his knuckles, making him screech. Sam woke up. “Hey, what the hell is going on?”

Long Way Home

13

Lee said, “Your buddy’s pregnant.” “I’m not,” Tommy said. “Sylvie is!” “Same thing,” Nick said. Sam yawned and closed his eyes again. “Oh. That’s all? Nice.” His eyes shot open, and he sat up. “Tommy’s gonna be a pop?” Tommy preened. “Yup. Sylvie told me this morning. Couldn’t wait until I got home. We’ve been trying, you know.” “And trying and trying and trying…” Sam said sotto voce. “No wonder you didn’t rejoin us until now.” Nick sat back in his seat and slapped his leg. “This is awesome. Another baby to spoil rotten.” He eyed Tommy. “Hope you intend to let us.” “Of course.” Tommy looked mock-thoughtful, then gave Nick a sly look. “You’d better.” The pilot came on and did his usual welcome and review of the flight. Everyone quieted, Sam falling back to sleep almost instantly—a talent Lee envied—Nick returning to his iPhone to play a game, and Tommy beaming happily out the window, watching the clouds. Mutt had settled with his laptop, Greg with his cooking mags, and the others, farther back in the plane, were talking about something, Marisa’s voice punctuating the conversation. All was right and good in Dream’s world. Only Lee still felt different, out of place, out of sync. One last city, one last plane ride, one last concert hall. Dallas. Returning to Texas, the thought of which chilled him like nothing had in years. He was going home.

**** “I hope you enjoyed your stay with us, Mr. Smith,” the bright-faced desk clerk said. She smiled at him, her gaze roving over his features briefly. The appreciation in her eyes made him grit his teeth, though he was careful not to show it. He slid the credit card—not his own, of course—to her, avoiding her touch, and forced his lips to curve politely in return. “Thanks, I did.” “Where are you headed next?” He looked out through the hotel’s front doors. “Dallas, it looks like.” “That’s nice. It must be hard, traveling all the time like you do.” “It’s not so bad.” He checked his cell phone. The bus would leave in an hour. “Get to visit different cities, visit friends and family. They appreciate that.” Not that he had anyone who gave a damn about him anymore. “Still, it must be lonely.” She licked her lips. He turned away, briefly catching the droop of her mouth as he did so. She was cute but not exactly his type. He slid on his sunglasses, grateful for the sunny day. He tried not to make impressions wherever he went, though he’d been at this hotel in New Orleans enough times in the past to be remembered. “Here you go, Mr. Smith.” He turned, signed Robert Smith with a messy flourish, waited for his receipt, and started to leave. “Oh, Mr. Smith?”

14

Carolyn Gray

He closed his eyes briefly, then checked the desk clerk’s name badge. Lulla Belle. Fitting name for New Orleans. He didn’t take off his sunglasses. “Yes?” “Mr. Clarke called while you were out this morning.” He tensed, carefully schooling his reaction. “Did you tell him I was here?” Her expression faltered. “No, he called for reservations. You don’t travel together anymore?” “When is he coming in?” “Tomorrow.” “Did he ask if I’d been through here?” he asked again. The look in her eyes confirmed his worst fears. Fuck. Pocketing the credit card—he would definitely need a new one now—he contemplated what to do. Dammit, he would have mentioned Dallas. A definite mistake. He slipped off his sunglasses and leaned toward her, waiting until he was rewarded with another smile. “Actually, we have separate routes now. I’m glad you said something, though. Forgot I need to head up to Kansas. You saved me a lot of trouble.” Or a lot worse. She beamed. “You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.” A few moments later he was outside, his backpack slung over his shoulder, his roller bag behind him, headed for the bus station. Clarke was getting closer, and it was clear to him now he was being tracked. If Clarke figured out what he was doing, where he was headed, everything would go to hell fast.

Long Way Home

15

Chapter Three Ballet night had inevitably come. Their last concert had gone off brilliantly, without a repeat of the death threat or any drama at all. Only Nick, Mutt, and—as he’d been unable to convince Nick to leave—a very reluctant Lee were still in Dallas, the others gone their own ways until they’d meet again at the end of the month for Brandon’s brother Jonathan’s wedding. Lee kept telling himself he only had to endure a few more hours, and then he could get out of there. Nick had raised an eyebrow at him more than once already, though. He had to be careful not to let his impatience show. The one thing he didn’t want to have to do was explain to Nick why he hated Dallas as intensely as he did. Mutt had contacted Margot Thatcher, the ballet director, and made arrangements to be present as Nick’s bodyguard. She’d asked Nick, Lee, and Mutt to join her for a drink before the ballet—she was, of course, a fan. So now they were at the bar in the hotel where they were staying, Nick and, surprisingly, Mutt engrossed in conversation with Margot, a stunning redhead, tall and lovely and smart as hell. The perfect woman, Nick had joked. “And nothing like Maya,” he’d whispered to Lee. Lee had said nothing. His thoughts drifted to the coming evening, the hours a ballet usually took. Two, maybe? It’d been a while since he’d seen one, much less sat in an audience. The ballet itself held some good memories, at least. He’d played in an orchestra for a few summers while in college, enjoying the novelty of playing music that didn’t leave him half deaf. Like he always did, he’d drifted off again, doing this and that, whatever odd jobs he could find. He’d been through some wild times too, nearly fulfilling his dad’s prediction he’d be dead by thirty. That hadn’t happened, but the fights they’d had hadn’t been pretty, leaving scars on their relationship that would never heal. Then he’d met Nick and Brandon, played with them in their garage band until the great blowup. For some reason, he’d stayed in touch with them, waited for the guys to tell him it was time, they were ready to form a group again, and was he still interested in playing with them? It’d been a long wait. He’d played wherever he could during that time, stayed out of trouble, not sure why or when he’d decided it would be worth it to wait for the guys like he had. A gut feeling, he’d always thought of it, that instinctive realization there was something special about Nick and Brandon and the music they made together and that he ought to play it out and see if he was right. And he had been. Sometimes, he really missed those days, before Brandon had elected to write full time and do all the behind-the-scenes work it took to keep Dream a success. Sometimes, he just plain missed Brandon. At least he had that to look forward to— writing music with Brandon again. Something bumped into his leg. “Hey, you still with us?” Lee looked up at Nick. “Sorry?”

16

Carolyn Gray

Nick patted his knee. “You’re missing our brilliant conversation. Where were you just then, anyway?” He pulled his straw out of his drink. Nick was not a fan of straws. Something about causing premature lines. Lee settled back in his chair. He wrapped one hand around his own drink, then took a sip. “Orchestra days. When I was waiting on you guys to call me, I played bass for the city orchestra.” “You did?” Nick pointed the straw at him. “You’re a man of mystery, Lee Nelson. Why did I never know that?” “Never came up.” “Did you play for a ballet?” “Once or twice—once here—but I was too busy to pay attention to the dancers.” Though he had, of course. Ballet dancers, the most incredible of figures—their compact strength and power was something to behold. Maybe he’d even fantasized a time or two about being with one of them, touching a body like that, feeling the strength and vulnerability rippling beneath his hand. But that was only a fantasy; he had never followed through. A pity, really, but he knew relationships like Nick and Brandon’s weren’t easily won, and watching his friends fight over their love and loss and the years of working so hard to stay together, and all the mistakes they’d made, he wasn’t sure it was worth it. Especially after Maya. Although he realized, as he watched Nick return to his conversation with the ballet director, it was, wasn’t it? Nick and Brandon had had to finally bare themselves to each other totally in the end in order to literally save Brandon’s life. Even two people who loved each other as much as they did had kept truths from each other until it nearly undid them both. He and Maya had been wrong to think they could have that—or, rather, he had been wrong, given his lack of honesty with her—and himself. Trying to hide from himself at the expense of another person had been wrong. She hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that. Nick stood, surprising Lee out of his thoughts, and Margot rose, as well. “Thanks for a lovely time, Nick,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. She towered over him. Lee got to his feet, smiling as she took his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Lee. I hope you both enjoy tonight.” “I’m sure we will. Especially Nick.” Nick pouted at that. “Oh, come on, those ballerinas are gorgeous too—and lots of them are single.” He winked at Lee. “Maybe you could…” Lee raised his hands in defense. “No, that’s okay. I’ve no time for anything right now. I’ve got to—” Some fans who had spied Nick and Lee at the dinner table interrupted. They’d been gracious enough to leave the men alone while they ate, at least, but now the three young girls, with their fan-faces of adoration plastered on, were eyeing them both, books in their hands. “I’m sorry, ladies,” Mutt started to say, but Nick stopped him. “Mutt, it’s okay. They were nice enough not to jump us. Least I can do is sign a few autographs.” The girls squealed at Nick. Lee tried to step back, let Nick have his fun, but the dark-haired girl saw him. “Can I have yours too, Mr. Nelson?”

Long Way Home

17

Caught. “Of course. Thanks.” He took the book, something she’d dug up out of her purse apparently, as it was a vampire novel, not exactly what he would be regularly signing. But no problem. He signed his name, and the other girls shoved their books at him too. Same book. Margot said, “I’ll see you guys at the ballet. I’ve got to get going. Thanks again for the drinks.” As Nick said his good-byes to her and talked with the fans, Mutt came over to talk to Lee. He watched Nick as the conversation continued, and Nick dived into telling the girls some story Lee’d heard more than once. After a moment, Mutt said, “He never gets tired of this, does he?” Lee downed the last of his drink. “No, never. He’s ready to go home, though. That’s part of why he’s hyper.” Mutt eyed him. “He’s always this hyper.” Lee laughed. “True. Better round him up. We need to go too.” “Good idea. We’re already starting to annoy the other patrons a bit.” Lee waited at the door while Mutt convinced Nick to let the fans go. He stepped outside, just breathing in the night air until Nick and Mutt joined him. Dallas at night was much better than during the day. Then, the stark ugliness prevalent in many big cities was more obvious—the homeless wandering the streets; the empty, boarded-up buildings; the noise and smells of rush-hour traffic as office workers and shoppers and tourists hurried from point A to point B. But at night the city calmed, and a certain charm blossomed. More electrifying people came out in droves, meeting friends for clubbing, plays, dinner out. As Lee walked with his friends to the ballet, he was treated to a very interesting cavalcade of kids in line at a club, dressed in what he supposed were clothes but wasn’t exactly sure. Damn, barely thirty and he was feeling old. The line to the Majestic was quite different, however. Though the mix of people ranged from young to old, the attire was more conventional, and though some were dressed to the nines with furs and jewelry and haughty attitudes, the rest were like Nick, Mutt, and Lee—nice jeans, sport jacket, and that was about it. They hadn’t been exactly prepared to go to the ballet on such short notice. They joined the crowd hurrying in the doors, and for a moment, Lee was caught up in the stampede to get inside. He didn’t have much of an opportunity to look around and get an impression of the theater, but as they broke free, Nick between him and Mutt, he finally got his chance. Wherever Dream performed, it was always the old theaters that entranced Lee. The Majestic still lived up to its name. Gold and red, the walls covered in plush red velvet, the carpets beneath their feet a rich tapestry. The aged copper-tile ceiling was burnished dully, adding to the timelessness of the theater. It had that old, musty smell, the smell of history, of thousands of performances and a stage that had hosted everything from the city’s most glamorous to, for years before it was saved, only whatever mice scurried across its bare stage. There’d been many a fight to keep the old theater’s originality intact, and he was glad those fights had been won. “Hey, Lee, check this out,” Nick said, interrupting his thoughts.

18

Carolyn Gray

Lee turned to see what Nick was talking about, his gaze traveling from Nick to the framed poster on the wall. For a moment, he didn’t realize what he was looking at, and then it hit him— the poster for tonight’s performance. There were several dancers on the poster, both female and male. He found himself drawn to one in particular—a male dancer in white tights that revealed about all there was to reveal. A flash of heat caught Lee by surprise at that. But it was the man’s face that intrigued him the most. Not classically handsome, but thin, as all dancers were, expression solemn, short brownish blond hair. Made-up, of course. Lee was grateful he didn’t have to wear makeup onstage. Nick indulged a little, but he was always in the center of the stage, and one never knew when one’s picture was going to be taken. There was something very different about this man that set him apart from the others, and it wasn’t the thin line of beard. Lee studied his face, his body, and racked his brain—he knew this man. Where from, he couldn’t imagine. They encountered thousands of people on their travels, some over and over again. Maybe the dancer was from days gone by, maybe during his orchestra days? He had a flash of those memories, the many faces all purposely forgotten. He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be positive, but he knew that face. “You look as if you recognize him,” Nick said. “Do you?” “I’m not sure, but yes, he looks familiar.” More mystery to add to this whole affair. Nick stared at the names on the poster. “Well, could be any of these. Too hard to figure out. Mark Anders? Steve Rafters? Jason Henry?” “No,” Lee said. None of the names set off alarms in his mind. Mutt placed his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “We need to get to our seats.” “Okay.” He straightened. “Maybe it’ll come to you later. We’ll get a program.” “There aren’t any,” said a woman next to them as they walked in. “Budget cuts, you know. They tried to end the live music as well, but the musicians protested so much and got all the city behind them, and miraculously the orchestra was safe.” She snorted. “Canned music—can you imagine such a horror?” Nick laid a hand on her shoulder, his eyes wide. “No, ma’am, I certainly can’t, not at all. You’re right—horror.” Lee’s mind was still back on the poster. He wanted to see it more closely. See that dancer, whoever he was. They made their way in, Mutt in the lead. He seemed relaxed today—more than usual, really—but given this audience, it wasn’t surprising. No one seemed to realize who they were, which was a relief. Nick usually stood out like a sore thumb, but this was a ballet crowd, not a pop-music crowd. He heard a giggle behind them. On second thought… He turned and saw two young girls, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, watching them, questions in their eyes, and he lifted an eyebrow at them. They squealed, making Nick turn around. He saw them and waved, laughing as they bounced up and down on their toes before their parents whisked them away. Lee figured they wouldn’t be thinking about the ballet at all tonight but rather about how they’d seen the lead singer for Dream. Oh, ecstasy! The trio made their way to their seats, guided by an usher. “Nice seats,” Lee said to Nick. “Yeah, no kidding. Whoever sent these to you must have some bucks on them.” Despite having millions of dollars, Nick would never stop being that kid who’d once lived in a shelter.

Long Way Home

19

Mutt took the folding chair that had been added into the box for him. “You okay, Mutt?” “No worries. Beats standing for hours.” Lee listened to them talking for a few moments but got back to watching the crowd. He spied the little girls talking happily, telling their mom who they’d seen. She looked around— probably a fan too—but didn’t see them. They were seated in a box, a little to the left but with a fantastic view. He settled back in his chair, which was no doubt original to the theater—people were smaller back when the theater had been built. Below, the orchestra was tuning their instruments. He was glad to hear they’d won their fight and were still part of the ballet. He couldn’t imagine otherwise. No, he could imagine. He’d been through many a situation where budgets were tight, and something always had to go. Programs, then orchestra, you name it—anything but the dancers really didn’t matter. Canned music wasn’t so bad, not for modern dance, and he wondered if there would be some tonight anyway. Probably. “Hey, Lee, look,” Nick said, pointing as a bass player entered the orchestra pit. Lee’s mind wasn’t on the pit or anything around him. He was eager now for the ballet to start. He wanted to see that dancer. At last, the crowd began to settle as the lights dimmed. The orchestra’s first notes filled the theater, and Lee took a deep breath. The curtains opened to a dark stage. He didn’t realize he had held that breath until a man in a suit walked out onto the stage. Settling back, Lee watched as the lights came up, blue and soft, and a single female dancer came out on the stage. He felt a bit of disappointment at that. “What’re you smiling about?” Nick asked, and Lee immediately adopted his usual disinterested demeanor. He had to be sure that Nick or Mutt didn’t catch any unexpected reactions on his part. He was glad of the dark, glad he didn’t have to act a certain way—or not really, anyway. The orchestra’s music swelled, and the audience quieted to a still hush, much as they did for Dream when Nick was onstage. Lee relaxed as he watched each number, dancers coming in and out for their parts, but none of them was the one from the poster. Lee wondered what role the man had in tonight’s performance. Piece after piece floated by. When another one began, this time with two men, Lee realized one was the dancer he’d been watching for. He leaned forward a little, then shifted back as he felt Nick’s gaze on him. He pointedly didn’t look at Nick, just settled into his seat and watched nonchalantly, though he felt anything but. It was amazing watching dancers fly. He’d always been fascinated by it, at least since the first time he’d gone to a ballet, and had even gone through a brief period of adoration for dancers like Rudolf Nureyev, Mikhail Baryshnikov, the others who became famous—or notorious—in their own right. The ones that a guy like him, who kept his inner thoughts extremely private and self-contained, could watch and enjoy without notice from anyone else. He’d seen White Nights dozens of times to watch Baryshnikov dance. Didn’t matter to him, and probably not to millions of others, that Baryshnikov was straight.

20

Carolyn Gray

But that was as far as he’d let his fascination go. Tightly in check it was and would remain. He was not the kind of guy to have a partner, male or female, of any kind. His failure with Maya proved that. Any sex he had was quick and anonymous and never more than once with the same person. He was a drifter, a musician, always on the move, with no place to call home, and he liked it that way. He had never needed much, only his bass, his acoustic guitar, clean clothes, and a decent hotel. It was a good life—thanks to being part of Dream and believing in Nick and Brandon, a very good life indeed. He had a hell of a lot in his bank accounts. The dancer he couldn’t place was now leaping into the air, doing a series of leaps that only someone truly gifted could achieve. He wondered why this dancer was stuck in a place like Dallas. His form was exquisite, his control incredible. The heights he reached made the crowd gasp a little. Nick leaned forward, entranced, and Lee had to fight not to do the same Mutt poked Nick. “Easy, boy.” It was dark enough in the theater that Lee couldn’t really see Nick’s face well, but he figured the singer was blushing a little. Lee expected he himself was blushing as he watched the other dancer take his turn. He realized then it was a dance-off they were doing, each besting the other. Nice. Lee watched, a bit mesmerized, as the second dancer showed off his prowess and skill. Not bad, though not as amazing as his own dancer, who made a series of low, impossible leaps, fascinating in their execution, then a series of rapid, dizzying turns that would make Lee sick. Moments later, too soon, it was over. The audience exploded, and the two dancers came to the edge of the stage, holding hands. Nick chuckled at that, and Lee had to admit, it was…refreshing. “Gay boys.” Nick sighed dreamily. “Braaanddoonnn,” Mutt whispered at him. “You’re my bodyguard, not my keeper,” Nick whispered back. “Don’t tell Brandon.” Mutt snorted. “That you were salivating like Pavlov’s prized pooch and I had to drag you from the edge of the balcony?” “You did not! I was not!” “Afraid so, Nick,” Lee said, smiling over the singer’s head at Mutt. He almost missed looking at the dancer again. The man was still onstage and had looked up at their box. The expression on his face… He looked…frightened. And he was looking straight at Lee. “Did you see that?” Nick asked as the dancer tore from the stage with his partner. “Odd. Maybe you scared him. Your hair is a bit spike-crazy tonight,” Mutt said. “Well, whatever. That was weird.” “Maybe he hates pop music,” Mutt said. “Nothing personal.” “That’s personal!” Lee watched where the dancer had disappeared. He stared, actually, his heart thumping wildly, his neck icy-hot like when he had the flu. He felt sick, and it wasn’t until Nick started to turn toward him that he remembered to school his expression. “You see that, Lee?” “Yes, I did.”

Long Way Home

21

“He was the one you thought you recognized. Maybe he recognized you.” Mutt leaned closer to Lee as the next piece was starting. “Do you know who that was?” But Lee couldn’t answer. Not yet. He had to know if the tickets sent to him were because of that dancer. If so, then someone was messing with him, possibly with them both. But why?

22

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Four The show went on, the other two forgetting about the dancer’s odd behavior. Lee couldn’t. The performance was almost over, and Lee was sincerely grateful it was coming to a close. He wanted to get back to his hotel room, alone, to collect his thoughts, which were currently a mixed-up jumble of disbelief and wariness. He knew who the dancer was, all right. Coincidence? He hoped so. To consider that it might not be unnerved him. It was obvious Gevan had had no idea he’d be there tonight and hadn’t been the one to send the tickets. Because that was, unmistakably, Gevan Sinclair, the younger brother of his childhood best friend. His best friend who, when they were thirteen, was taken by a stranger, never to be seen again. Lee had seen it happen. Stefan had long been presumed dead. When he was older, Lee came to understand why it was Stefan who had been taken, not him. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Stefan had been beautiful. He and Lee had been best friends since they were five, and though Stefan had become popular and sought after by everyone, he’d never left Lee behind. Where Stefan went, Lee went. That’s how it was. Lee shouldn’t have been there that day. His mother had been too hungover to take him to his guitar lessons, so he’d decided to ride his bike instead. Never mind the guitar studio had been almost a thirty-minute bike ride away. He hated to miss his lessons. When he’d passed the park and seen Stefan playing with his dog, a little mutt named Sparks, he’d stopped to talk to him. The rest of what had happened was just choppy, fractured images in his mind. He’d tried over the years to piece it all together but no longer honestly knew what was real, what was imagined, what had been put into his head by others. He had continued on but looked back in time to see a man talking to Stefan. The man’s face was a blur to him; he’d been unable to come up with enough detail to get a good description. That had plagued him ever since, his inability to remember. The man had been holding Sparks, then undid his leash and sent him off. The man saw Lee coming back and came after him. His bike was turned the wrong way, and he was carrying his bass guitar, unwieldy while walking, near impossible to carry on a bike. He tripped over his bike when he tried to turn it, but he couldn’t drop his precious bass. He’d had to beg and borrow and, yes, even steal quarters from his mom’s purse to get enough money to buy it. Lee didn’t remember anything else of that night. When he’d woken sometime later, he was in the park, his bicycle and bass gone. Bruised, cut, ribs broken, his left eye nearly swollen shut, he’d pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the street, where he’d collapsed. Next time he woke up, he was in the hospital, alone. The days after he’d finally gone home were a blur. He couldn’t remember much except for the endless questions he hadn’t been able to answer. When it was clear Stefan would not be found, Lee had wanted to die. Without Stefan, life was unbearable.

Long Way Home

23

Lee closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. He’d not gone down that path in many years, but seeing Gev again brought it all back. Or most of it. The pain, the confusion, the overwhelming loss. It tore through him still. “Lee? You okay?” He opened his eyes, realized Nick and Mutt were both looking at him oddly. He took a deep breath and pushed his reactions back into their box in his mind. “Fine. Sorry. Just a little tired.” Nick yawned gracelessly. “Had enough?” “Sure, let’s leave,” he said. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Gev dance again. “I’m hungry.” Nick rubbed his stomach. “Me too. It’s not too late; maybe we can find a McDonald’s or something.” Mutt groaned at that. “Please. I’d rather have a steak, myself.” “I thought you wanted pancakes,” Lee said, not really caring where they went, as long as it was out of there. “Oh hell yeah.” Lee stood, but at that moment an usher walked into their box. “Lee Nelson?” Lee stilled. “I’m Lee Nelson.” The usher waved him out. Mutt and Nick immediately followed. “What is it?” Nick said. She handed Lee an envelope. “This is for you.” It wasn’t anything remarkable, only a regular white envelope. “Open it,” Nick said. He slid it open, his heart beating faster. Briefly he wondered if he should be careful about prints. Too many episodes of Criminal Minds, he supposed. He removed the piece of paper that was inside. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the message somehow didn’t surprise him. “So?” Lee handed it to him. Nick moved under a light so he could see better. “‘Dressing room ten. Gev.’” Nick handed back the note, then repeated, “Gev. That dancer.” Mutt said, “It was you he recognized, then.” The usher interrupted. “If you’ll follow this hallway, there’s a red door at the end. Open it, and tell the guard your name. He’ll know you’re expected.” The usher stopped Nick and Mutt. “Not you.” Lee stiffened. “They’ll come with me.” He hadn’t realized it until that second, but he really wasn’t up to facing Gev alone. Yet he realized, as the usher hesitated, then walked briskly off, that the second he turned to face Nick, there would be questions. Lots of questions. He wasn’t wrong about that. “What’s going on, Lee? How do you know him? Why the shock and surprise? What—” Mutt laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Let the man think. He’s in shock, like you said.” Nick looked at Lee. “Sorry. You know me.” He touched Lee’s arm. “Lee?”

24

Carolyn Gray

Lee tucked the note back into the envelope, folded it, and stuck it in his back pocket. He wasn’t sure how much to tell them nor how long they had. He didn’t want to say anything here, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. The box was secluded, but with all the music and dancing going on—a rousing number, from the sound of it—that wasn’t the place to go. “If you don’t want to say…” Nick said, his words encased by a please-tell-me sigh. “No. It’s all right.” “The dancer, Gev?” At Lee’s nod, Mutt went on. “He obviously had no idea you were coming.” Lee took a few steps toward the other side of the hall. There were a few people around but not many. That was good. “I had no idea he was here, either.” “Well, who is he?” Nick demanded. Lee closed his eyes for a moment, then decided to tell them the easy stuff. Delving deeper was impossible. He opened his eyes, ran a hand through his hair. Hell. He looked at Nick, the singer’s eyes dancing with curiosity. No avoiding it now, but the words—how to find the right words? Make them come out when they’d been trapped for too many years? Articulating the first seemed impossible. Nick looked like he was about to burst. Lee took a deep breath. “His brother was a childhood friend of mine. That’s how I recognized him. He hasn’t changed much.” He took another deep breath, looking at Nick now. Nick stilled, his normally animated face going intentionally bland. Lee looked away. It would make saying what he was about to say easier. “When we were thirteen—I think Gev was ten, maybe eleven—Stefan disappeared.” Nick flinched. “Oh, God, no. That’s horrible. Did he run away? Did they find him?” Lee didn’t say anything for a moment. Couldn’t through the lump in his throat. He shoved it angrily aside. He had no intention of ever admitting the full truth of what Stefan’s disappearance had done to him. Nick’s hand squeezed his arm. He hadn’t realized Nick was touching him. He cleared his throat. “No. He didn’t run away. They never found him.” Nick’s eyes went blank, then darkened in the dim hallway light. “You were there?” “I was. I wasn’t the target, though. I happened on the whole thing accidentally. The man saw me, and…I blacked out. There’s a lot I don’t remember.” “Oh, God, were you okay?” Lee snorted softly. No. Hell no. He hadn’t been okay since. Mutt crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He wanted Stefan.” Lee cleared his throat, relieved when he almost sounded normal. “He played every day in the park, exercising his dog. He was teaching him obedience. I was going to guitar lessons when I saw him. The man had picked up his dog.” “It must’ve been terrible for you,” Nick said, reaching for Lee’s hand and squeezing it. Nick was the only person he’d ever let do that. Guilt stabbed him when he tried to pull away. Nick held tighter. “I’m sorry I never told you, Nick.”

Long Way Home

25

Nick squeezed his hand once more before releasing it. “No. No, I’m not surprised you didn’t. Damn, when I was kidnapped, you must’ve been insane.” Lee smiled. “A little, yes.” “Never caught, I assume,” Mutt said. “No. Never caught. Stefan’s presumed dead.” Mutt stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful. “So, now tickets enticing you to meet with Gev were delivered to you. Not from Gev, who obviously was shocked as hell to see you. Do you keep in touch with authorities? His family?” “No. It’s been too long. His family moved on, I guess.” “What happened to you after, Lee?” Nick asked. “Moved away, poured myself into my music. Got into trouble a lot.” “You?” “Believe it or not, yes. A dreamy look came over Nick’s face. “Yeah. And then you found me and Brandon.” Lee took a deep breath. “Yes. You have no idea how much I needed you guys back then.” Nick punched him in the arm with surprising force. “No, we didn’t! Geesh, man, you could’ve told us. We never knew—” He cringed when Lee rubbed his arm. “Sorry about that.” To Mutt he said, “I can’t believe I did that.” Lee shook his arm out. For a small guy, Nick had a hell of a lot of force. And he’d needed that smack anyway. “No problem. Actually, I might ask you to do that again. It helps clear my head.” At that moment, people started to come out of the theater. “Over,” Nick said, then jerked his head toward the door they’d been told to go through. “Ready for this?” Lee headed for the door. “Ready as I ever will be.” Mutt stopped him. The bodyguard’s casual demeanor from earlier in the evening was gone. “I think it might be a good idea if you tell me all you can about the situation later. This might be nothing—” “Or it could be the start of something bad,” Nick pointed out. Lee gave his name to the guard, who let them pass into the back of the theater. They’d stepped into a different world now, one that was familiar in many ways but surreal in its differences. Dancers rushed around, chattering and hugging each other over a job well done. The theater’s musty smell faded, replaced by the scents of sweat and old flowers and, he swore, french fries. The male dancers had stripped off their tops, their well-toned chests gleaming in the backstage lights. Quite a feast for the eyes, one Lee would’ve enjoyed in different circumstances. “Great job, everyone!” a voice called out. It was the ballet director who had invited them for drinks. Margot. She saw them standing at the fringe and waved, though she looked slightly surprised to see them there. But she turned away when someone distracted her—two female dancers, half-undressed, sharing some private joke. One of them looked their way, smiling shyly. The whole atmosphere of celebration was familiar to Lee, but it was completely different too. The way the dancers moved—glided—along the floor, so subtle and graceful he didn’t have the

26

Carolyn Gray

words really to describe it. But as they took off their shoes, and costumes started to be replaced by street clothes, casualness took over, a loose ease as the atmosphere began to shift. They became normal people once again. It was fascinating, but there was no time to dawdle around backstage and watch. “Room ten?” Mutt asked the group in general. “This way,” one of the dancers said, smiling broadly at Mutt. He looked the bodyguard up and down, eyes dancing appreciatively. He was the one Gev had danced with. Lee wondered if Gev had danced again or if that was the only number he’d been in all evening. “Thanks,” Nick said. The dancer nodded at Lee. “You’re here to see Gev, right?” Lee startled. “How’d you know?” The dancer elbowed him. “You think I didn’t see that look he gave you? Man, you’re so his type.” “Sorry, Lee’s not into boys,” Nick said. His gaze traveled down the dancer. “But I am.” The dancer leaned forward like he was going to kiss Nick, then stopped and pulled back in mock suspicion. “Oh no. I know who you are! You’re taken.” He turned back to Mutt. “What about you, though, big boy?” “He’s taken too,” Nick said with a pout, making the dancer laugh. He strode away, leaving Nick staring appreciatively after him, and Lee still wondering what the hell was happening here. That the dancer had caught Gev’s shock didn’t surprise him. He imagined his own face had looked exactly the same when their eyes had met. A poetic moment that could’ve been, if only, as the dancer had assumed, it had been a glance of desire. More like a mutual glance of terror. Lee was glad for the distraction, but now he wanted nothing more than to get on with whatever the heck was going to happen. Leaving Nick and Mutt to follow, Lee walked down the hallway as indicated, looking for number ten. It was at the end of the hall, the door closed. He waited for the others to catch up, then took a deep breath and knocked. Nothing happened for a moment. Then a terse “Come in” came through the door. Lee opened the door and walked in, Mutt and Nick behind him. Gev sat on the dresser, wearing ratty sweats, chest bare, feet bare, his dark blond hair damp from dancing, Lee supposed. He looked as he had in the poster, same narrow beard, but without the makeup that made him appear older. Costumes were piled here and there, some hanging in colorful array on a hanging bar. The room was tiny, cell-like, but warm and bright. Lights surrounded the mirror, and assorted containers full of makeup were placed out. The room smelled like powder-scented sweat. Gev had his arms crossed over his smooth bare chest and was watching them warily. An open bottle of wine sat next to him. “Why are you here?” was the first thing Gev said, directed to Lee. He picked up the bottle. “I have no idea,” Lee said. “I was sent the tickets anonymously.” He put one hand out. “This is Nick—” “I know who he is. Who’s he?”

Long Way Home

27

“Mutt. Nick’s bodyguard.” With that, Mutt leaned against the door. Gev looked back at Lee. “Anonymously, huh?” He blinked, pressed his lips together. “When I saw you up there, I about shit onstage. Damn good thing I didn’t see you until I was through.” He lifted the bottle and chugged some down, but his wince proved to Lee immediately he wasn’t usually a drinker. Couldn’t be, not with that body. The price would be too damn high. “So you had no idea about this,” Lee said, though it was obvious Gev hadn’t. “How could I?” He set the bottle down, reached for a shirt, and slowly pulled it on, stomach muscles rippling. Lee yanked his gaze away. “I can’t imagine who would send you those tickets. No one knows I know you.” “No one knows I knew you either, Gev.” Gev straightened at that, and for the first time the light was angled correctly and Lee could see Gev’s eyes. They looked scared before he schooled himself. As practiced as me. Lee realized the dancer was taller than he’d thought, only a couple of inches shorter than Lee was. Not bulky but obviously strong. There was no shadow of the pudgy little boy he’d once been. It was amazing how he’d hurled himself into the air with such exquisite height, such incredible control. Almost like magic, the amount of power that took. Lee tore his gaze away guiltily when Gev gestured to Nick, who had somehow refrained from saying anything. “What about them, then? You must’ve told them about my brother and what happened.” “Only what they needed to know.” Gev stared at him. “So, you think we’ve been set up to find each other for some twisted reason?” He turned to Mutt. “You a cop?” “I retired from the force to provide services to Mr. Kilmain.” Gev shifted his attention back to Lee, expression grim. “You had to have done something, said something.” Lee tensed. “No. Maybe you mentioned me to one of your friends.” “Hell no. They know nothing about me. And definitely not about you.” He gestured at Nick and Mutt. “You told them.” “Not until I got your note.” Nick stepped forward. “We’ve known five minutes, tops.” Gev took another swig of wine as Lee bit back his growing anger. “Well, I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone.” Gev leaned toward Lee, his eyes hard. Angry. “I never wanted to see you again.” He turned away. Lee clenched his hands into fists, but words failed him. Why not? he wanted to demand, but hadn’t he been the same? “Then we’re done here.” Gev waved his hand at Lee, dismissing him, and reached for a towel sitting on the table. “That’s right.” Lee realized Gev was shaking. That stopped the retort he’d been about to hurl at Gev. “Okay, guys, enough,” Nick said, spreading his hands, his expression hard as he pushed between them in the tiny room. Lee stepped back, feeling like an idiot. “Calm down, okay? This is puzzling as hell, but why are you so angry at each other?”

28

Carolyn Gray

Lee pressed his palms to his eyes. Hell. He dropped his hands, sighed. “Sorry. You’re right. This is”—he gestured toward Gev—“difficult. I haven’t talked about Stefan to anyone. In years. I don’t understand why this has happened now. All right?” The fire in Gev’s eyes calmed. “You’re right, of course.” He rubbed the towel over his face, the back of his neck, then balled it up and threw it into a basket full of towels. Nick said, “That’s better. You guys were kids when you saw each other last, right?” Lee nodded. “Well, then, you should be happy to see each other. I mean, it’s kinda awesome, right?” He looked from Lee to Gev, back to Lee. Lee knew he was right. But it was Gev who spoke first. “It’s a surprise to see you. A shock, really. You’re looking good, at least.” He smiled briefly. “Figures you’d come out so well. My brother always thought you were amazing.” That skirted an edge that made Lee uncomfortable. “We were good friends.” Gev’s eyes fixed on his. “I know. I know you were. You were always nice to the bratty little brother too.” He cocked his head. “I haven’t changed much, I’m afraid.” Lee wouldn’t argue with that. He found himself smiling. Maybe it would be all right. Not such a disaster, seeing Gev again this one time. Nick rubbed his hands together. “Okay, that’s better. See? Not so hard to be civil.” “Nick,” Lee warned. “Sorry, sorry. What do you ballet types usually do after a performance, Gev? You don’t mind if I call you Gev? You can call me Nick.” “The ones that don’t have anywhere to be, they go out and get drunk if there isn’t a performance the next day. I don’t.” “Don’t drink?” Nick indicated the wine bottle, one eyebrow raised. Gev turned it around— sparkling cider. “Well, how about you join us tonight? We’re tired, so don’t plan to be out late. We have a plane to catch in the morning.” Gev slipped off his sweats. The move was so fast, Lee couldn’t stop himself from looking. Gev had only the barest of briefs on. Lee turned away quickly—to see Nick frowning at him. Lee stuffed his hands in his pockets. Gev was oblivious. Lee figured the dancers were well used to changing in front of each other. Not that he himself was modest, but… Gev’s resemblance to his brother, faint as it was, was something he would have to figure out how to deal with, and soon, if they were going to spend some time together. He was glad his plane left in the morning. One evening would be all he could take. “Sure, if y’all don’t mind. I’ve nothing to do tomorrow except visit my sister.” “Nina?” Lee asked. Gev broke out into a genuine smile, finally truly reminding Lee of the boy he had known. “Oh yeah, Nina’s married, has three whiny brats who are the most awesome kids in the world. They’re almost ten now. Triplets.” “Ouch,” Nick said. “Wait. Ten?” “Stepmom. Her husband’s first wife left him when they were two weeks old, hasn’t been seen since. The kids are great, and I am required to spoil them. I don’t mind. Nina feeds me

Long Way Home

29

enough food in one visit to last a week, though she doesn’t realize that’s practically all I eat. Ballet doesn’t pay much.” “Our treat,” Nick said. “If you don’t mind.” “I don’t mind.” Gev grabbed his jacket, then paused. “My car’s here, though. Bring me back later?” Mutt said, “No problem.” “Thanks. So, Lee, do you think we were pulled together for a reason?” Lee relaxed a little again. It didn’t feel as dire as it had earlier, now they’d actually started talking. “I don’t know, honestly. Mutt thinks there’s a possibility we’re being manipulated.” “But why?” Nick asked. “The… Your brother disappeared years ago.” “Because the bastard who took him and killed him is still out there,” Gev said, yanking open the door. Lee stopped him. “They found him?” Gev paused. “Found—” His eyes widened. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Lee let his breath out in a whoosh. “Far as I know, the case is still open.” Gev adjusted his jacket. “Mom still thinks he’s alive, though she doesn’t say so.” Lee asked the next question before he realized what he was going to say. And immediately regretted it. “How is she?” Gev looked at him, his eyes clear and hard. “Same as always. Let’s get out of here. Got a lot of catching up to do with Lee.” Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. Do you want us not to go, Lee? We can catch something somewhere el—” “I don’t mind,” Gev said quickly. Lee felt a little disappointed, which also made him a little confused, as the last thing he wanted to do was be alone with Gev and talk about the past. “Fine with me. Where should we go?” “IHOP? I’m starving for some pancakes.” Nick threw his hands up in the air. “Pancakes! A man after my own heart. Been craving ordinary drenched-in-syrup pancakes for ages.” He made a face. “Greg always insists on putting in wheat germ or protein powder or whatever supposedly makes them good for you. Completely ruins them.” “Such a travesty,” Mutt said. “Exactly.” Nick bolted out of the room. “Is he always like this?” Mutt grinned, placing a hand on Gev’s shoulder. “Wait until those carbs hit.”

**** Ten minutes later, they were back in the rental, Mutt driving, Nick up front. That’s how they always sat, but with Gev joining them, it was a little awkward for Lee to be next to him. Fortunately, Gev was directing Mutt where to drive. “Up that way and skip the next street because it’s a one-way, but the next one will take you onto I-35 East.” “That’s north, though,” Mutt said.

30

Carolyn Gray

“Yeah,” Gev said. “It’s a bit whacked, but there’s I-35 West and I-35 East—one is through Fort Worth, the other through Dallas. But they go north and south.” “Drunken road planners?” Nick asked. “Possibly. Anyway, get on the highway, and I’ll tell you when to get off. We’re getting on the toll road, so your rental car company will get the bill in a couple of weeks.” “And then happily pass it on to us,” Nick commented. “To Marisa,” Mutt said. “Go through and get off and go back through again. It’ll drive her nuts.” Gev settled back in his seat. “Still the quiet one, I see,” he said to Lee. “He’s impossible to get to talk sometimes,” Nick said, turning around and draping himself over the back of the seat. “The silent, brooding type. Drives girls nuts. You should see him when they start chasing him. Man, can he run.” Gev chuckled. Lee pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nick—” “You’d think he was scared of women or something.” Lee dropped his head back, stared at the rental’s ceiling. “Why me? Why?” “Just saying, buddy!” Lee was glad Gev seemed amused, at least. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing Nick weren’t always so persistent. They needed another line of discussion. “How long have you two known each other?” Nick added. “All my life,” Gev said. “Until Stef disappeared, and Lee—” Lee reached out a hand to stop Gev. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not now, not here, not ever. Nick, oblivious, turned around in his seat. “And Lee what?” Gev hesitated, but Lee answered. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s all right.” But Nick was never easily deterred. “What happened to you, Lee?” Lee curled his hand into a fist, well aware that Gev saw his tenseness. Gev caught his eye, then told Nick, “He was hurt pretty badly. Then after he recovered enough, he left.” Nick looked thoughtfully at Lee. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “It’s okay. I don’t remember much.” Didn’t want to, either. He looked out the window, his thoughts taking a hard right, back to the days after he’d gotten out of the hospital. He hadn’t been able to take it—the looks, the stares, the unspoken accusations. Including from Gev’s parents. Why had he survived? Why hadn’t he been taken too? As if that would have made the loss of their son easier to bear. Why hadn’t he remembered anything that could’ve helped find Stefan? “I transferred to another school after,” Lee said, half to himself. But Nick heard him, turned around again. “Probably was hard on you, being the survivor.” “It was hard on all of us,” Gev said, his voice rough. Lee looked up sharply. “I’m sorry, Gev.” “I lost my brother and you too, you know. I was a stupid little kid, but I missed you.” Lee couldn’t hide his surprise. Really couldn’t. “You missed me? I was only—”

Long Way Home

31

“Hey, you were my brother’s best friend. You guys were nice to me. Not all big brothers are as nice to the pesky kid brother as Stef was.” He stared down at his hands. “I missed everything. All of a sudden, being the only boy—something I had dreamed about a time or two, of course—didn’t appeal anymore. Nina was only a little kid then and no real fun yet. But when she got older,” he said, looking at Lee now, “I made sure I was good to her, like my brother had been to me. Like you had.” “Sorry,” Lee said again, clearing his throat. Gev didn’t react for a moment, but then a smile crept out. “I gotta admit, I’m sitting here feeling grateful to whoever set this up, even if it was a total fluke. It’s good to see you again. And Mutt, next exit’s where we get off. You’ll go right.” To Lee’s relief, he didn’t have to respond to Gev’s admission. He was glad too, he realized. They parked and went into the restaurant, where everyone ordered pancakes, which made Nick happy. Time flew. The talk steered away from the mystery that plagued them all, though Lee couldn’t quite shake it all from his mind. As he ate his last pancake, he realized he was exhausted. Gev must be too, though his animated talk with Nick about boys seemed to belie that assumption. Mutt caught his eye. “Still worried?” “Can’t not be.” “Want me to do any digging?” Gev noticed what they were talking about and looked across the table at them. “I can’t stop thinking about it either. Should we do anything, is the question.” “Or wait and see if anything else happens?” Nick asked. Mutt pushed his plate away. “I’m not sure if that’s the best course. I’d like to know what you can remember, Lee. Who the detective involved was, for instance. At least contact him—” “Her,” Gev corrected. “Remember her, Lee? Detective Consuela Ramirez. She’s actually still around. She comes watch me dance now and then with her friends.” “So it happened around here?” Nick’s surprise wasn’t masked. “Lee, I didn’t know you ever lived in Texas. I just assumed… I don’t know what I assumed. There’s too much I don’t know about you.” “You never asked.” Nick slumped. “You’re right. Man, I’m such a bastard. Always gotta be about me, you know.” Lee shrugged. “Not much to tell. I moved in with my grandmother for a while, then left after high school. She died soon after that. Drifted around until I met you and Brandon. The rest you know.” And until now, he’d had no reason to come back here. His mother had drunk herself to death long ago, and his father… Well, Lee didn’t know where he was—and didn’t care. Nick pushed back in his seat. “You really are a man of mystery. Was he always like that, Gev?” Gev thought for a moment. “Afraid so. My brother was the energetic one, the talkative one, always dragging Lee into doing things. Trouble.” He looked at Lee. “One time too many.” “It wasn’t his fault,” Lee said. “No, of course not. Crazy people are everywhere.” Nick stood and grabbed the bill. “I’ll pay this. Be right back.”

32

Carolyn Gray

Lee started to object, but Mutt laid a hand on his arm. “He’s okay here. We were ignored coming in.” Gev looked from Lee back to Mutt. “You’re seriously his bodyguard, like, all the time, then? Is he still in danger? I thought all that was over with.” Mutt took a sip of his coffee. “It is. That is. But like he said, crazy people are everywhere.” He set his cup down. “Maybe it’s you two I should be keeping an eye on now.”

Long Way Home

33

Chapter Five After dropping Gev off at the theater to retrieve his car, they returned to their hotel. It wasn’t soon enough for Lee. He was tired, achy, and it had been one hell of a night. Very strange too, seeing Gev again after all these years. “You sure you don’t want to talk?” Nick asked as they reached their separate rooms. “No. I’m fine.” Nick didn’t look convinced. “Okay, then. Call if you need anything.” He elbowed Lee. “I gave Gev your cell phone number. Hope that was okay.” “When did you do that?” “When you went to the restroom at the restaurant. Thought he might like to give you a call sometime, maybe when you’re back in town again.” “It’ll be a long time before that happens.” “Anyway, I’m glad we met up with him. He’s a nice kid and very interesting. He traveled a lot with the ballet he was with before this one. He’s only been back here about a year.” “What else did you talk about in the three minutes I was gone?” “Oh, maybe about you a bit,” Nick said. “The elusive portrait of Lee Edward Nelson is finally coming to light.” Lee groaned. “My middle name’s not Edward. That was a joke.” “Oh, I know.” Nick pushed open his door. “It’s really Fleetwood. ’Night, Lee!” Then he escaped. Lee slid the keycard into the slot and entered his room. He immediately knew something was wrong—his suitcase wasn’t where he’d left it; his laptop had been moved; he didn’t see his trainers, which he’d left by the bed. Cursing, he backed out and went down the hall to bang on Mutt’s door. “Mutt, open up.” The bodyguard did so immediately. “Nick—” Nick’s door opened. “What’s wrong?” Lee looked back at his room. “Someone’s been in there.” He was more pissed off than anything. “Housekeeping?” “Why would housekeeping open my luggage and move it? And my shoes are gone.” Mutt had taken off his coat but still wore his gun, though he didn’t take it out—no reason to be that dramatic. He followed Lee back to the room and looked in cautiously. The unit was merely a bathroom and a living/bed area, no possible hiding place, but he checked behind the bed, then behind the curtains.

34

Carolyn Gray

“You sure—” “I’m sure.” Lee came in then and looked inside his suitcase, rummaged around. “Nothing seems to be missing except my workout trainers.” From the doorway, Nick said, “Maybe a fangirl cleaning lady?” “They’d get fired for that. Too much to risk.” Mutt said, “Give me your keycard. I’ll go get it changed out. You want a different room?” Lee ran his hands through his hair. “No. I’m fine. I just want to go to sleep.” Mutt left them but said to Nick on the way out, “Back into your room.” Normally, Nick would’ve protested, but this time he simply acquiesced. “Want me to stay in there with you tonight, Lee? Not that you need babysitting.” “No, I’m fine. Go to bed. The plane leaves early.” Nick yawned. “Too early. Like, we have to get up in less than six hours. It sucks.” “Next time, don’t let Marisa make the flights,” Lee said. “A definite mistake. See you in a few.” Lee closed the door behind him, then kicked off his shoes and moved the suitcase back to where it’d been. He turned on his computer—it was password protected, so no worries there— and, as expected, all was fine. He shut it back down, too tired to mess with e-mails. Not that he got many while on the road. The friends he had traveled with him, after all. As he waited for Mutt to bring the new keycard, he brushed his teeth and considered a shower before bed. He needed one, but he’d rather have one when he woke up. Easier to get through the long flight. Though he supposed flying from Dallas wouldn’t take too long compared to traveling internationally. He was a little reluctant to go back to Durango, even for a little while, but he’d made a promise to himself not to leave Brandon out of his life. He’d done enough harm already by cutting off Nick’s partner when he needed them all the most. Big regret, that. He had no idea what he would do after visiting Durango. Dream would be on hiatus for quite a while, since Nick wanted to write some new music and Brandon’s brother’s wedding would be at the end of the month. Wherever Lee went, he’d have to come back for that. And for when Tommy became a father—something he hardly believed was happening but for which he was incredibly grateful, given the man should be dead. There was a sound of a keycard entering the lock before the door opened and Mutt poked his head in. “All set. I explained what happened, and they’ll question the staff. But there’s no real way to know who it was unless the camera caught someone.” “The shoes are replaceable. I’m not too torn up, long as that’s all it was.” Mutt handed him the keycard. “Okay, then. Good night. But if you need anything, let me know. We’ll talk on the plane tomorrow.” “Thanks, Mutt. Good night.” Lee latched the door lock once the bodyguard left. He turned on the TV and settled back on the bed, looking for late news, but it was too late even for that. His arms folded behind his head, he stared at the ceiling. For the first time he could really remember, he’d been thinking nonstop about the past. About the horrors of that weekend and the consequences not only to Stefan but to his brother, as well.

Long Way Home

35

His own selfishness appalled him. Not once had he considered Gev’s pain. Gevan had been a cute kid, and yeah, he’d tagged along incessantly. But Stefan was the kind of kid who loved everyone, including his little brother. No one was a stranger, which was probably why it’d been so easy for that man to snag him. The guy had seen that Stefan was a friendly boy, loving and sweet. Too sweet, obviously, as he had confided not long before to Lee that he thought he was gay. And Lee had confided to Stefan he might be too. That had started a short but amazing exploration of their sexuality. Together they’d managed to find some gay magazines and hidden in Stefan’s closet with flashlights to look at the pictures. While Stefan squealed happily at the pages—obviously already a long way to being comfortable and at ease with who he was—all Lee could do was bravely hold Stefan’s hand. That had led to the first kiss and the most wonderful night of Lee’s life. Stefan’s parents had long gone to bed, and Gev had too. It was Lee and Stefan in a closet with flashlights, shyly taking their clothes off, even though they’d run around naked together since they were toddlers. He would never forget the first tentative touch of Stefan’s hand on his chest, slowly moving down. He’d stood still, mesmerized and a little scared, not knowing what to do. Although it turned out Stefan didn’t know much either. They’d spent that evening curled up together on the floor of the closet, kissing and touching and relishing every moment. Over the next few months, they’d learned more, with Stefan becoming more confident and Lee doing whatever made Stefan happy. Lee, for his part, had been completely in love with Stefan. Looking back, he knew he’d been too young to really know love, know what he was, but it didn’t matter now. The memories he had of himself and Stefan were treasured and known by no other. No one ever suspected their friendship was anything but, though Lee had thought in later years that if Stefan hadn’t disappeared when he had, maybe he and Stefan would’ve let others know what they were to each other, in time. A bit of a fantasy, that, given the attitudes of Lee’s parents. His father’s open dislike of anything not white, Baptist, straight, and middle-class American were well known. And his mother, well, she’d had no single thought of her own except for her extensive knowledge of vodkas from around the world. Lee pulled the covers up over himself, his thoughts returning to happier times, when Stefan was alive, when Lee practically lived at Stef’s house. Blissful years, when Lee’s mother was only too happy for her child to disappear whenever he wanted to. If he had died, she wouldn’t have cared at all. Would’ve been better. Better for them all.

**** Six a.m. came too early. Lee had finally fallen asleep, his thoughts on Stefan. More or less. He’d kept thinking about Gev too, about how Stefan probably would’ve looked remarkably the same as his brother. Interesting, though maybe Gev was a little taller than Stefan would’ve been, his hair darker. Stef’s eyes had been blue, with pale, almost nonexistent lashes. Gev’s lashes were dark, making his green eyes look bigger. Nice eyes, sharp and observant. There was something about Gev that made Lee think he was more than he appeared. The way he expressed himself, the places he’d been, his devotion to his art. Lee admired that. When

36

Carolyn Gray

Gev had told them about how he and his dancing partner had prepared for the battle dance, his eyes had lit his entire face, his whole body becoming animated in that restaurant booth. Even though Lee hadn’t been sitting close enough to touch Gev, he had felt the power in the dancer’s body rippling through him as he described to Nick in detail how he had first learned to do the various leaps. Nick had been enthralled. So had Lee. He forced the thoughts of Gev out of his mind. He and his companions would soon be on their way to catching their flight, and he wouldn’t see Gevan again. He stared at his luggage waiting by the door and made up his mind. “Morning, Lee,” Mutt said as he joined them at the car a half hour later. Mutt frowned. “Where’s your luggage?” Nick came around the side of the car. “We need to hurry, Lee. Have you not checked out yet?” “No. I’m not going.” He braced himself for the negative reaction, but to his mild annoyance, Nick didn’t look surprised at all. “Told you,” he said to Mutt. “Told him what?” Mutt closed the trunk. “He figured you would want to stay awhile.” Lee looked upward. The rising sun had started to lighten the sky. “Just been a while since I’ve been here. Talking with Gev made me curious to see how things have changed.” Nick walked up and gave him a spontaneous hug. “No problem. Still coming to Durango after you’re done reminiscing?” “Of course,” Lee said, surprised. “Just making sure. Why don’t we take a taxi, then, Mutt? Leave Lee the car?” “Good idea,” Mutt said. “I’ll go take care of getting one. Save us some time too.” Lee took the keys and pocketed them. “Sure it won’t cause a problem?” “Nah,” Nick said, waving the air with one hand. “Marisa will deal with it. She’ll gripe, but that’s okay. Not like we don’t use the same company all the time. Don’t worry. Want her to fix the flights for you?” “Not yet. Guess this one can’t be canceled.” “No big deal. Have fun, and maybe eat some Mexican food for me. Never got to.” He pouted. “I’ll bring back some tacos,” Lee said. Nick brightened. “That would be…soggy, though. Don’t worry about it. Maybe some good salsa. That would be incredible.” “Done.” Mutt emerged from the hotel at a trot. “Taxi’s around the corner. Open the trunk, will you, Lee?” “Oh. Sure.” Lee popped the trunk open, and Mutt took out his and Nick’s luggage, then slammed the lid shut as the taxi arrived. He took their luggage over and helped the driver put the luggage in the back of the car.

Long Way Home

37

“Well,” Nick said, turning back to Lee. “Seriously, have fun, relax. I’ll let everyone know you’ll be back in a few days.” “It might be a little longer,” Lee found himself saying. “No problem. Be sure and be there by the seventeenth. Gotta measure for our tuxes then.” Two weeks. “That’ll be enough. Probably be there before then.” “Good.” Nick stuck out his hand. Bemused, Lee shook it. “What’s up?”“ Nick released his hand. “For everything.” Mutt called out, “Gotta go, Nick.” “In a second.” He turned back to Lee. “For everything, for always being there, for being so helpful in finding me.” Lee appreciated Nick’s earnestness. “I’d do anything for you guys. You know that.” Nick punched him in the chest. “And us for you, you dolt.” Lee felt a small stab of guilt. But only a small one. Mostly he felt relief. It was good, he realized, that he no longer had to hide that part of his life. “I know now that must’ve been hell on you, fucking difficult as hell,” Nick added. “It was. But it was worth it.” “Yeah, definitely. I’m worth it.” Nick ducked away as Lee popped him on the arm. “Hey, I’m fragile!” he said, laughing. Then he sobered. “I mean it. Be careful out there. Going back can be really tough on the memories. If you need anything, call.” He pulled out his BlackBerry. “And call Gev. I’ll send you his number. Might be fun to talk with him without anyone else around.” “I will,” Lee said, though he wasn’t positive that would happen. “You’d better go. Mutt’s looking impatient.” Nick rolled his eyes and headed for the taxi, waving to Lee as he got inside. “Have fun!” “I’ll try.” The taxi driver closed the back door after making sure Nick was comfortable—he clearly knew money when he saw it. Nick would insist on giving the cab driver an outrageous tip regardless, but he always enjoyed the extra touches. They drove off then, and Lee watched until the taxi disappeared around the corner. Only then did he head for the rental, unlock the driver’s side, and slide in. He turned on the car and headed for a parking space, then decided no, it was early yet. He hadn’t eaten, and though the pancake dinner had been late, he was starving. No reason not to head out now and possibly locate a different hotel out of the downtown area and closer to where he had a feeling he’d spend most of his time. Seconds later, he was on the highway. His phone chirped; Nick had texted him Gev’s number. He stared at Gev’s number for a moment, then closed his phone. He’d store it later. Maybe.

38

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Six Gev woke up with a start. It was morning—too damn early, that was for sure. He kicked off his covers with a groan for his aching muscles, startling the cat. Terror Screech jumped off the bed with an affronted yowl. “You do have your own bed, you know.” The cat, responding as she always did to Gev’s snarkiest voice, sidled up and jumped back onto the bed. Chuckling, he waited to see what Screech would do. Sure enough, the cat climbed atop his chest and settled down, purring happily. “You’re warped, you know that?” The cat eyed him with half-slit, golden-green eyes. “You’re holding me captive, aren’t you?” He thumped his hands to his sides, not really minding. Too blasted early to be up, too fucking unbelievable a night. Seeing Lee Nelson had nearly knocked him off the stage. How many times had he dreamed of seeing Lee again in person? Even though years had passed since Gev had seen more than a photo of him, Lee hadn’t changed that much. Older, with the five o’clock shadow that went with it, but he carried himself the same, had the same gestures, the same thoughtful looks. And his eyes… Gev had a thing for eyes, especially dark brown ones fringed by long lashes. He’d been relieved, he had to acknowledge—a life of fame hadn’t destroyed Lee’s looks. He’d discovered only by accident Lee had actually done well for himself, playing bass professionally. A lot of his girlfriends in high school had loved Dream. When he’d realized Lee worked for Nick Kilmain—the Nick Kilmain—and had for years, it’d been a shock. Nice one, though. He never told his friends he knew—had known—Lee. Or about Stefan, though a few knew. His family had moved when he was a sophomore, and while he’d hated it at first, it made pretending things hadn’t happened much easier. He really didn’t like to think about the past much, and being somewhere new, where only an occasional person connected him to Stefan’s case, had made it easier. Whenever someone did make the connection, though, it slammed into him, hard. Made him think of his brother too damn much, and how his disappearance had changed things. Changed his mother. His heart lurched between anger and sadness at the thought of his mom. She never mentioned Lee, never seemed to wonder what had happened to him. Gev had tried to tell her about Lee playing bass for Dream, but she’d looked at him through stark eyes and turned away without a word. Gev pushed the cat off, gently this time, and got out of bed. The cold air brushed against his naked skin—he liked it cool, always missed cold climates when he left them. But the need to be near his family again—Nina’s new family, at least—had finally won over, and he’d quit Joffrey’s traveling company, settling in Dallas, at least for now. No regrets there. Nina hadn’t

Long Way Home

39

had it easy at first, suddenly being a parent to three kids, but his new nieces and nephew were great kids. They didn’t remember their mom, and Nina, being generally awesome as she was, had won them over quickly. As had he. He was their favorite uncle. He still wasn’t sure about Nina’s husband, Mason, though. The guy was flat-out strange, and Gev always felt apologetic around him and resented being made to feel that way. Mason was gone so much, Gev was halfway convinced he had married Nina just so she could take care of his kids. So Gev had moved back, and he helped out where he could. And in return, Nina fed him. At least Mason didn’t mind that. Gev pulled on his sweats as he left his room and padded into the kitchen. He noticed a pair of heavy, black, silver-studded boots on the floor by the door. Great. Chad had picked up a stray again, apparently. That boy was gonna get himself into some serious shit if he wasn’t careful. Gev pulled out a carton of milk from the fridge. Singles, because he liked to drink from the bottle, which disgusted Chad. Not that Chad drank milk, but he complained the cat did, and it wasn’t nice to pollute it for the cat, right? Gev had argued cats shouldn’t have milk, but Chad never listened. Whatever. Gev put the rest of the carton back in the fridge, then bent down and picked up his running shoes. He had apparently left them here for some reason, or Screech had dragged them in. That cat had a worse shoe fetish than Chad did. Gev sat on the kitchen floor to untie the knotted laces and put them on. “Gev? You up, man?” “In here.” Chad entered the kitchen, yawning, wearing only boxer briefs, scratching his crotch, his bleached-blond hair in disarray. “What the hell you doing up already? Didn’t you have a performance last night?” “Yup.” Gev popped up off the floor. He bounced on the tips of his toes a few times, adjusting his feet. They had to be just right, or else he couldn’t be free to not think about how the socks were bunching up in his shoes while he ran. “Break for a few days. Forgot to tell you, I’ll be gone for about a week.” Satisfied, he moved into the living room and sat again to stretch. His calves ached a little. Not enough sleep, he figured. Chad followed. “Why?” “Some of us are going to drive to New Mexico to help out with a dance camp.” “Dance camp? You? Why would you do that?” “It’ll be great.” There was no point trying to convince Chad of that, but Gev was looking forward to the trip. Give a few workshops, perform for the kids, make new connections, and see a few old friends. All the things Chad hated. Chad leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and propping one foot to the side. “Sucks,” he said, as Gev had predicted. “Not really. It’ll be fun.” Gev rolled his head in a circle, stretching his neck. “Francesca and I are going to do a workshop on partnering.” Chad shuddered. “I can’t believe you like that bitch.” Gev smacked him on the leg. “Be nice. She’s fantastic. We’ve been working a lot together. She’s helped me.” “We both know you needed that.”

40

Carolyn Gray

Gev reached over to pinch Chad, but he danced out of the way. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. Good for you, then, I guess. Sounds like a lot of hard work. But good. Great, even. Congratulations. You’ve worked hard for it. This mean you’re moving?” “Why would you ask that?” “Rockies are a hell of a lot prettier than Dallas.” Gev stretched his legs out, pointing his toes, then flexing them again against the postperformance ache. “Not planning on it, no. It’s in Clovis.” He pulled his heels in and grabbed his ankles. “Oh. That sucks. You going running?” “Obviously.” Chad yawned. “Mind if I crash in your bed, then? Mine sucks.” “Why’s that?” “Biker boy is big.” Gev released his ankles and rubbed his calf, shaking his head at his roommate. “Wake him, and tell him to go home.” “Nah.” Chad stretched, then patted his stomach before sliding his hand down to his boxerclad cock. Gev rolled his eyes. “He’s also damn good. Think I might keep this one.” “What’s his name?” “I dunno.” Chad watched him for a moment as Gev finished stretching. “Don’t know how you do it. I’d be falling apart and exploding all over. I’d whine.” “True.” Chad had once been a dancer too, well used to the work, and that was exactly why he’d quit—the work part. Too much time devoted to whining about that which they all endured. He’d quit shortly after Gev joined the company, and Gev had missed him. Of the single gay guys in the company, Chad was the only one who didn’t make him want to screech louder than Screech. Even with the whining. All one had to do was tell Chad to shut up, and he would. Novel idea, that. So when Chad mentioned he needed a roommate, Gev had jumped at the chance. Especially when he found out where it was—in the heart of the gayborhood, within walking distance of good places to eat, a bookstore, a movie theater. Perfect. Too far from the Majestic not to need a car, but that was okay. “Can’t believe you’re running. What time you get in?” “Before you did. Where’d you drag this one from, anyway?” “Zippers.” Chad waved at Gev to follow him. “Want to see him?” “I don’t—” “Oh, come on. Not every day I snag a biker,” he whispered, making Gev hope that said biker was still suitably passed out. Especially when Chad said, “Oh, my God, his thighs, Gev! His thighs!” He exhaled dreamily, making Gev push him. “You’ve got to be kidding.” “Oh no, I’m not. Riding a Harley takes good, strong, powerful muscles, you know. And did he show them to me last night.” Chad rubbed his backside. “Boy, did he.”

Long Way Home

41

Unlike Chad’s, Gev’s taste didn’t run toward the physical, the prize at the end of a wellcrafted hunt. As far as other people knew, Chad was too nice a guy to be called predatory, but Gev knew different. If Chad had set his eyes on biker boy, then said biker boy had no hope. Chad was gorgeous, flamingly so, the stereotypical gay ballet dancer that might as well have had “I’m Gay!” stamped on his forehead. But he was also a bossy bottom. Not Gev’s style, but there was something about him that reminded Gev of Stef, and he’d found he could enjoy Chad’s company unlike anyone else could. For months, their friends had assumed they were partners, even ignoring their denials, until Chad had finally lost his cool over that when it started to cramp his style. No one assumed ever again. Fine with Gev, not that he slept around himself. He’d practically been a monk since arriving in Dallas, though Chad had dragged him out whenever Gev’s protests weren’t clever enough. He was a persistent bastard, proving so now as he motioned Gev closer, then opened his door slightly and pointed toward the bed. Gev looked, else Chad would never shut up about it. His guest for the night was fast asleep, snoring even, on his stomach, his arms and legs stretched out, naked. Gev had to agree— the guy had huge thighs. And a hell of a nice ass. “See?” Chad said. “He’s a pig in bed, though, taking up all the space.” Gev left Chad’s room, heading for the front door. He needed to get his run in. “So push him over.” “That ox? Have you any idea how much thighs like that weigh? Might hurt myself.” Gev yanked on the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. “Damn.” “Oh, sorry, I did that last night, I guess. Or biker boy did.” Gev bent down to peer at the lock. He twisted it back and forth, but the knob wouldn’t budge. Great. “You really don’t know his name.” “Biker boy’s all I need to know. You should see how—” Gev clamped his hand over Chad’s mouth. “No. You’re sick. Sick sick sick.” He dropped his hand. “Yup, and loving every second of it. Go through the window.” “You’re kidding.” “No, I’ll fix it later, after I’ve had a little nap.” Chad unlatched the window and pushed the screen out into the bushes. “See?” he said, waving his hand. “There’s got to be some advantages to having the downstairs part of the house. And this is it.” Gev figured, why not? He would rather not be around when the biker woke up. “Have him gone before I get back.” “Oh, you’re no fun, but okay. Fine. Take your cell, and I’ll call when the coast is clear.” “I don’t like running with it.” “Then how will you know it’s safe?” Rolling his eyes, Gev went back into his room, grabbed his cell, and patted Screech on the head. The cat growled. Gev slid on his light jacket—it was a bit chilly this morning, though the day looked nice enough. Perfect for a run. He pulled a ten out of his wallet and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

42

Carolyn Gray

“I’m not running far today, but I’ll stop for coffee at Manny’s.” Chad’s eyes lit up. “Bring me back a scone? Two?” Gev slid one leg over the window ledge. “As if I wasn’t going to already.” Chad patted him on the head as he bent down to go the rest of the way out. “You’re a good boy, Gev. Beyond me why some handsome, intelligent man hasn’t seen that.” Gev snorted. “Because handsome, intelligent men are handsome and intelligent. Intelligent enough to know you’re far hotter than I am—and easier.” Chad laughed. “True.” “Don’t lock it, in case you fall asleep or something.” “Okay, no problem. I’ll leave it cracked.” “Not much, though. Don’t want Screech to get out.” “Where is she? On your bed?” “Yup. Take her if you want. Except she’s in a pissy mood. Going now.” “She’s always in a pissy mood. Okay, have fun.” Chad pushed the window down, leaving a two-inch crack at the bottom. Gev stuffed his cell in his pocket. Annoying. He walked around the side of the house, past their driveway. A sweet black Harley was parked in front of Chad’s car. He jogged lightly down the sidewalk, which, at this time of morning—not even seven on a Monday—was quiet. There were a couple of people walking out to their cars, but only one looked headed to work—Frank Hodges, who owned a construction company. He waved to Gev. Frank was a nice guy, as was his partner. They had three kids, all in high school, all girls. His neighborhood didn’t cater to the typical Dallas employee—or family, either, for that matter. There were few kids about. The bus didn’t come for another hour, so those houses were probably just waking up. Quiet mornings like this were fine with Gev. That was another reason he ran every morning—not just to keep fit, though he knew that to be a good dancer, with a long career, he had to take care of his body, his stamina especially. Too often he’d seen good dancers become mediocre—like Chad had—from an excess of living. It was a tragedy, really, because he had a great deal of talent. Chad was a natural partner, whereas Gev had to work hard at it. Very hard. For Chad, it was no more strenuous than a yawn. More than one of the girls had tried their best to talk Chad into not quitting, because dancing with him—when he was on—was amazing. But it had been useless to try to talk him into staying with the company. When Chad made up his mind to do something, he did it. They had that in common. Gev broke into a run.

Long Way Home

43

Chapter Seven The coffee shop was up ahead. He was a little tired today, Gev realized as he slowed down to an easy jog. Six hours of sleep—much of it restless—combined with the performance having started a bit late had taken a toll. So instead of his usual route, he’d decided to run around the block once, then head for the coffee shop. It felt good running so early, and it didn’t take him long to reach his destination. His corner of the city was coming to life. The early cafés were starting to open—he passed Maria’s Eats, and Maria herself waved from the window as he jogged by. Pity Lee hadn’t stuck around. Gev would’ve liked to have taken him there. Gev could smell the coffee shop before he saw it. He dropped to a walk, breathing deeply, letting his heart fall into a slower rhythm. He hadn’t broken a sweat yet either, which was good. Manny always made a face whenever he came in all sweaty from an extensive run. Gev held the door open for a couple of women as they were going out, then slipped inside. Manny was busing one of the tables, whistling to himself. “Be right with you,” he said without looking up. “No hurry.” Manny looked up then, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Hey, there,” he said, lips pursing as he gave Gev the once-over. “Mm-mm. Gev, love, you lookin’ good this fine morning.” He plucked at Gev’s shirt. “For once.” “Not dripping with sweat, you mean?” He shook his head hard at Manny, rewarded with a shriek. “Cut that out now, boy.” He glared at Gev, then swiped the table again, making a hmph sound before heading back to the counter. Gev followed him. “Sorry, sorry. Scones done yet?” “Something wrong with that nose of yours?” Manny breathed in, closing his eyes, a blissful expression on his face. Manny’s shop always smelled like scones, but Gev breathed in, the smell making his stomach rumble. “Smells done.” Manny opened his eyes and stuck his hand out, palm up. “Two? Six bucks.” “Six?” Manny wiggled his fingers. “Everything’s gone up. Butter, sugar, me…” Gev rolled his eyes. “You wish. Use lard instead of butter?” He laughed at Manny’s sudden horror. “You’d best be teasing me. Nothing but the best for my customers.” Manny poked him. “Even you.” His gaze shifted past Gev’s shoulder. Gev turned and watched as several men in suits got out of a car across the street.

44

Carolyn Gray

“Oh yeah, look at the pretties. Good, they’re coming in here.” Manny smoothed his hair back. “How do I look?” “Gorgeous, as always.” Gev declined to tell Manny about the streak of flour on his cheek. He pulled his ten out and handed it to Manny. “Three of them, please, and I don’t mean those three guys. I’ll leave them to you. Three scones. One for me; two I’ll take in a bag.” “You’re no fun. You need to drop the celibacy bit. It’s not working too well for you. Drink?” Gev ignored the jab. Manny couldn’t fathom why Gev wasn’t one for the quick hookup, and explaining to him was useless. Lee’s face flashed in his mind. If only. He looked up at the menu board, skipping over the richer coffees. He had one of those only now and then, and only off-season. “Peppermint tea, large, in a to-go cup.” “Living large today?” Manny snatched the ten. “You owe me a dollar. You can pay me back tomorrow.” “Thanks.” He leaned against the counter as Manny made the tea. The door opened, and Manny’s eyes lit up. “Watch this, youngster, and learn,” he said, shoving Gev’s tea to him. Manny moved around the counter and sauntered over to the three suits to take their order. Gev carried his tea to a table, amused at his friend, and was dunking the tea bag when the door opened again. He looked up, happy to see one of his friends walk in. “Trish, hey,” he said. “Hey back at you. Good morning, Manny,” she called back to him. “The usual, love?” Manny said. “You got it.” Manny waved at her and bent back to his task. “How you doing, Gev?” she said, ruffling his hair. “Great.” He stood and hugged her. “When’d you get back? How was the cruise? Where’s your woman?” Trish kissed his cheek as she released him. “It was incredible! We got back late last night. She’s sleeping in, made me come fetch some scones.” “Same here for Chad.” “At least he doesn’t withhold love and affection for not obeying.” “No, no, I’d never willingly put myself at his mercy.” She patted his face. “Smart lad. I’ll call you in a couple of days, after we’ve settled in.” “That’d be great.” “Good.” She turned toward Manny, who had finished with the three slightly bemused men. They huddled together over their coffee, looking more and more uncomfortable. It annoyed Gev—and Trish too. She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes. “Homophobia, alive and well even in the gayborhood.” “Manny will work on them.” “Scones are ready!” Manny called out, banging his oven shut. Gev grabbed his tea and followed Trish up to the counter. “Here you go, Gev. And an extra for taking me to meet those ballet boys of yours.”

Long Way Home

45

“When did I promise that?” Gev said, taking the bag. At Manny’s pout, he darted for the door. “Thanks, Manny. See you both later.” “Call you later,” Trish said. He raised his bag in salute and nodded as Manny turned his attention to Trish. “And how many for you today, oh lovely world traveler…” Gev left them to their discussion over scones and exited the coffee shop. Heading for home, he let his thoughts turn back to Lee and their talk. Not that Lee had talked much; mostly it’d been Nick. The guy was a real chatterbox, especially when Lee had excused himself to go to the bathroom. Then the words had poured out. But it was funny—it didn’t seem like Nick really knew Lee all that well. Where Lee went when they weren’t touring, rehearsing, writing music, was apparently as much a mystery to Nick as it’d been to Gev. It was sad. He crossed the street, taking a cautious sip of his tea. Gev wished he’d had a chance to talk more with Lee. Of course, now that they’d met again, there was no reason why he couldn’t. There was no chance Lee would ignore him now. Gev turned the corner to his street and walked across the grass to his house. He moved toward the door, then grimaced, remembering the jammed lock. Annoyance flittered through him, but he shook it off and started around to the side—then stopped, confused. There was something strange… The door was open slightly. On the welcome mat his sister had bought them—it had a cat that looked like Screech, who never welcomed anybody—was a plastic card about the size of a credit card. He picked it up and turned it over. Just plain and white. Strange. He pushed the door open with his shoulder while taking a sip of his tea. The scones still smelled warm and delicious, and he kind of hoped the biker wasn’t there. He wouldn’t mind scarfing two scones down this morning, he was so hungry. But no, the massive, ugly boots were still there. Chad was an idiot. “Chad, scones,” he called out into the quiet house. Nothing. He started to close the door behind him, but before he could, Screech zoomed past him so fast he nearly stumbled. “What the fuck, cat? Hell.” It always took an hour or so to entice the damn cat back into the house. Great. Chad could find her—the price of Gev fetching his scone for him. “Hey, Chad,” he said as he walked toward his friend’s room. He stared at the mud on the hallway carpet. Damn. That hadn’t been there earli—Gev stilled. Looked up. The door to Chad’s room was open. A stench unlike he’d ever smelled before drifted out, souring his mouth. Smelled like shit, more than that. He grimaced. Why was mud streaked on the carpet? Maybe he hadn’t noticed it earlier, talking to Chad, because the carpet wasn’t exactly pristine beige anymore. When he got closer, he realized something that registered ever so creepily within his conscious mind. Something that changed everything. It was blood. Gev straightened, confused. Blood and… Then he saw it—on the bed, the walls, the… “Oh shit,” he whispered as he stared at the very dead man sprawled on his back on Chad’s bed, a gaping wound in his chest.

46

Carolyn Gray

He dropped the scones and the tea. “Chad!” He tore down the hallway. “Chad, where the hell are you?” He looked at the window; it was still mostly closed, as he’d left it. “Chad?” He stood still, outside his own room. No way. He walked into his room but knew what he would find. Chad. Dead. Blood everywhere. Gev’s hands started to shake. His gut roiled. He gagged. “Fuck, oh fuck, no fucking—” Get the hell out, idiot! Gev backed up, forced himself to turn away. There was no way Chad was still alive. In his bed. Chad’d gone to his bed, to sleep. And now he was dead. In his bed.

**** Gev leaned against the police car he’d been told stay by. He had stopped shaking, at least mostly. But every time he closed his eyes, even for a brief second, he saw the biker, his pale white skin slashed and bloody, guts spilling out. That’d been the smell, of course. No wonder Screech had run. “Here you go, babe.” Manny handed him a cup of coffee. After calling 911, Gev hadn’t known who else to call. “This’ll set you to rights, and don’t go complaining about the calories. You’ve had a fright, and you need a strong cup of joe. Fully leaded.” Gev took a sip. It was harsh, bitter, yet sweet and hot and tasted damn good. Manny also held a bag. Gev’s stomach clenched. “I don’t think I can eat right now.” “Well, when did you eat last? Before your performance? I know how you are.” “No, I actually went to IHOP last night. Had some pancakes.” He and Manny watched the activity together—cop cars blocking the street, some with lights still flashing; yellow crime-scene tape being stretched across the front perimeter of Chad’s house. Or what used to be Chad’s house. Vaguely Gev wondered if he could ever live there again. Probably not. No, definitely not. Manny leaned against him, head down. “This is one wholly fucked-up mess, isn’t it? Burglars, you think?” “Yeah, I guess.” Gev watched as the ambulance, doors open to await the arrival of its latest burden, rumbled on the lawn. The grass would be ruined by the tires, he supposed. At that moment, two paramedics emerged from the house with a gurney. It had taken them forever to get ready, but the way people moved in and out of the house, some in uniform, some not, made Gev figure they were being very careful about everything. Another car pulled up, and a sharply dressed man got out. “Nice suit,” Manny muttered. Gev didn’t say anything as the suit guy headed straight for the cluster of cops, including the one who had told him to “wait by the squad car, and don’t move.” “Ever watch Criminal Minds, CSI, any of them shows?” “No, not really. Why?” Manny gestured to a guy in a blue coverall he’d pulled over street clothes. He had several cameras slung around his neck and carried a suitcase as he entered the house, two cops making way for him. “Crime-scene-photo guy. Taking pictures of everything. Analyze the blood splatter, like Dexter.” He made a wild, flailing motion like he was stabbing someone. The suit guy turned

Long Way Home

47

toward them, his face unreadable as he watched Manny, his gaze skittering past Gev before he resumed talking to one of the cops. Gev closed his eyes, wrapping his arm around himself. “Manny, do you mind?” “What? Oh, sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to make you sick again. Drink more coffee.” Gev took a sip. The suit guy headed toward them. Gev straightened, hoping he didn’t look about to faint. “Mr. Sinclair?” the man called out as he approached. “Can I speak with you a moment?” Manny whispered, “Don’t say anything incriminating, hear? They start jacking you around, tell them you have to talk to your lawyer.” Gev stiffened. “A lawyer? Why?” The suit heard him. “He’s not being accused of murder, Mr.…?” “Manny,” Manny said. “Manny Gutierrez.” He held out his hand. The suit pulled a pad and pen from inside his jacket and wrote Manny’s name down, ignoring the proffered hand. “He’s a friend of yours?” the suit said, gesturing at Manny. “I called him after I called nine-one-one.” He made a note, then looked up at Gev. “I’m Detective Marc Harrison.” He pulled a card out of his inside pocket and handed it to Gev. He took it, unsure what to do with it, then stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll need to ask you a few questions about what happened here today.” “Okay.” The detective’s blue eyes held his. Gev swallowed hard, biting back the apology for interrupting. “Had you spoken to Mr. Gutierrez prior to that phone call?” Gev shifted. The question made him uncomfortable. For the first time, he realized that who else but he would be the prime suspect? Great. “He was in the coffee shop this morning,” Manny said. Gev wished he would leave. “From about eight-thirty until—When did you leave?” Then again, he was glad Manny was still there. “I was there until about nine.” “How far is your coffee shop from here?” “It takes me about fifteen, twenty minutes to walk there.” “You walked?” “Yes,” Gev said. “Well, ran part of it. I talked to several people there.” The detective wrote more. He was writing a lot, quick, sharp strokes of his pen. “I’ll need their names, anyone else you saw on your walk there and back.” Gev took a deep breath. He didn’t want to look nervous, but he sure as hell was. Nervous, shaken up, terrified. But at least alive. “I was running for a while before I went to get us scones.” Harrison looked up. “Walk? Run? Which one?” Gev squeezed his eyes shut. “I went for a run but walked a bit before running.” Hell, he was making no sense.

48

Carolyn Gray

“What time did you leave for your run-walk-run?” The detective’s face was implacable. Fuck, he was messing this up. Gev took a deep breath, trying to remember. He hadn’t run as long as usual, only about thirty minutes or so. Guessing would be a mistake, but he wasn’t sure, either. “Seven-fifteen, I guess.” “Did you see Mr. Hill before you left?” Chad. “Yes, I did, actually. We talked a little while. I didn’t know the other guy. I don’t know his name.” He opted not to mention the “biker boy” part. “Tell me about the vehicles.” “The Focus is mine. Chad’s is—was—” He paused for a moment. “The Mazda was Chad’s.” “The motorcycle?” He ran a hand through his hair. “The—Chad’s friend’s.” “He’s been identified as Curtis Chapman. Had he been here before?” “No. I’ve lived with Chad for about nine months. He—” Gev cleared his throat. Harrison didn’t appear homophobic. If anything, he was terribly cut-and-dried, disturbingly businesslike. Maybe Gev should’ve been reassured by that, but he wasn’t. “Chad picked him up last night.” “Where?” Harrison asked, making a note. “Zippers.” “Is that the only place he went last night?” “I don’t know. He goes lots of different places.” The detective looked up. “I’d appreciate a list.” “I know a couple of them, but I’ll have to ask around. I don’t go clubbing much.” Manny leaned closer. “Shouldn’t he be at the station for these questions?” Harrison glared at Manny. “The sooner we find these people, Mr.—” He looked at his notes, though Gev doubted he’d forgotten Manny’s name. “Gutierrez,” Manny supplied helpfully. The detective pressed his lips together. “Mr. Gutierrez, the sooner I get through these questions, the faster we’ll have information to work with so we can find who did this. Right now—and I think you probably watch television—he’s the one who found the bodies. Therefore, he must be looked at first. He lives here. And he wasn’t here during the murders, so he claims.” “I told you he was at the coffee shop!” “We don’t have the times of death yet, and until that is verified, it doesn’t matter where he was or when. Just that he is accounted for somewhere. Understood?” Manny nodded reluctantly. Gev wished he would shut up, though Gev wasn’t sure he got the detective’s logic. He understood what he meant well enough, though. The detective frowned, staring at his notes. “Lovers?” Gev glared at Manny. “No. Friends.” “All right.” Harrison looked at Gev expectantly. Gev shifted, nervous, forcing himself not to look at Manny. “Is there anyone else that you would like to contact regarding your whereabouts last night and through this morning? Friends, relatives, what have you. That sort of thing.”

Long Way Home

49

Gev grimaced. He really felt uncomfortable now, but he understood only too well how important it was to get all the facts up front, as soon as possible. He’d only been a little kid when his brother had been taken, but he remembered the endless rounds of questions his parents had gone through. They’d even questioned him, made him go down to the police station and talk to a cop there, Consuela Ramirez. He wished she was the detective assigned to this case—she still kept in touch with him, as his brother’s case had never been closed. “Last night I was at a performance.” “What do you do?” “Ballet dancer with the North Texas Ballet.” “Okay, then, I’ll get the names of everyone from the director. What’s the name?” “Margot Walsh.” “Phone number?” Gev gave it to him. “Anyone else?” He gestured with his hand. “Anyone who can verify your whereabouts last night.” Gev hesitated. He really hated to drag Lee and especially Mutt and definitely especially Nick Kilmain into this, but he didn’t really have a choice. “Nick Kilmain, Lee Nelson, and Nick’s bodyguard. I only know his first name—Mutt.” The detective hesitated, clearly thrown off. “Nick Kilmain. The Nick Kilmain, of Dream?” “Yes, he knows them,” Manny said. “Hush, Manny,” Gev said. “Yes, I know them.” “How?” the detective said, his voice interested, his expression suddenly more relaxed. “I’ve known Lee since we were kids. Haven’t seen him for a while, until last night. He plays bass for Nick. Mutt is the bodyguard.” “Fantastic,” the detective said, scrawling more on his notepad. “What did you do with them?” “Uh, we went to eat pancakes.” The detective looked amused. “Pancakes.” “IHOP, the one on Mockingbird. Can I call my parents? And my sister?” “I’d like their numbers too, but yes, of course you can. Have them meet you at the station, though. Unless they aren’t local?” “They’re local.” “May I have their numbers, please? The Dream people too.” “I only have Lee’s.” “That will do.” Gev pulled his cell phone out and gave Harrison the names and numbers. When he reached Lee’s, he felt really awful. The last thing he wanted to do was yank Lee back here to answer some questions about something he had nothing to do with. He gave him Lee’s number anyway. Like he had a choice. Yet the thought of Lee coming back here made his chest squeeze a little. “Where are these gentlemen now?” “They left this morning for Durango, Colorado. They probably aren’t there yet.”

50

Carolyn Gray

The detective continued making his notes. “All right, Mr. Sinclair. That will be all for now. You’ll need to come to the statio—” At that moment another car pulled up. Two people got out, a guy a little older than Gev’s age and a woman. The new guy headed directly for Detective Harrison, a grim look on his face. “Excuse me. I need to take care of this,” Harrison said, his voice wry. Manny elbowed Gev as the detective and the new guy stopped out of earshot. The new guy was growing angrier-looking by the second. Manny nudged Gev. “Didja notice how his tone changed the second you said you were buddies with Nick Kilmain?” Gev started to disagree but changed his mind. “Yeah. I’m not exactly buddies with him. I just met him. You think it matters?” “Sure. Maybe,” Manny said, watching the detective. “Probably. Maybe he realizes you’re not some pretty gay boy dancing at some nightclub for your drug money.” Now Gev was getting worried. “You think that’s what he thought?” “Sure he did, but don’t let that worry you. That’s what they see all the time in these murders, at first. Drug deal gone belly-up, revenge.” He waved his free hand, gesturing wildly. “Da-da-boom, two dead, kitty missing, innocent guy wasn’t there, targeted first. You’re under suspicion, baby. Except I don’t think he seriously thinks you did it.” “You don’t.” He hoped to hell Manny was right about that, but the hot crawl of fear had a field day over his body. “No.” Manny put an arm around his shoulder, squeezing him tight. “Dude thinks you were the target. Lucky you left. You’d be dead now too.” Hell. “You’re so reassuring.” “What I’m here for. Hey, check that out.” Gev pushed aside his rapidly multiplying worries. A heated argument had started between the new guy and Detective Harrison. Manny whistled. “Man, oh, man.” “What?” Manny folded his arms over his chest and bent his head down to Gev. He jerked his chin toward them. “Those two? Lovers.” Gev stared at him. “No way.” He looked back at the detectives. Harrison raised his hand to the new guy’s shoulder, who jerked away and stomped off. “See?” Manny chuckled. “The other dude’s pissing in his Post Toasties. Makes it all worse ’cause it’s Harrison. Former lovers.” “Shut up, Manny.” “Bet he was supposed to have this case. His jurisdiction or something.” “You don’t know that. I don’t think detectives have jurisdictions anyway.” “Just sayin’. Just sayin’. Man, they don’t show this shit on Cops.” “Shut up, Manny.” They watched Harrison watch the new guy get into his car and leave. The detective didn’t move until the car was out of sight; then he turned and headed back toward them. Gev’s stomach lurched. He just wanted this day to be over.

Long Way Home

51

“Is coming with me now a problem, Mr. Sinclair?” Harrison asked as he rejoined them. Gev wanted to say, “Hell yes, it’s a problem.” Instead he said, “I need to find the cat first.” The detective raised his eyebrow. “The cat.” “She ran out when I opened the front door. Which was open when I got home, by the way.” “Open how much?” “An inch or so, barely. Not enough for Screech to get out until I’d opened the door wider.” “Screech. The cat’s name, I take it. Good name for a cat.” “She’s a tortoiseshell.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said that. Manny said, “I’ll find her for you. She loves me.” Gev was too damn tired and overwhelmed to be amused by Manny’s proclamation. Screech far from loved Manny. She was more likely to bite his fingers off if he tried to pick her up. Chad really was the only one Screech loved. Had loved. The cat would have to make do with him now. Thankfully they got along all right. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” “No problem.” The detective said to Manny, “I’ll want to take a statement from you also, and anyone else who might’ve seen Mr. Sinclair at the coffee shop this morning. After you’ve located the cat is fine, but today.” “Today’s good,” Manny said. “I can handle it.” The detective’s gaze bore into Gev’s. Gev wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t move, trapped as surely as a mouse by a starving cat. “I’m sure hoping you didn’t do this, Mr. Sinclair.” “He didn’t,” Manny said. “But that means whoever did this is still out there, and he may have meant to kill him, right?” “Unfortunately, that’s correct, Mr. Gutierrez. If Mr. Sinclair didn’t commit this act himself, we might not have seen the last of the attempts.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off Gev as he spoke, his cool blue stare sending icy chills down Gev’s spine. Whoever had done this was still out there, maybe watching right now, waiting until Gev was alone to finish the job. He was going to puke.

52

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Eight Gev wasn’t sure how long he’d been answering questions. The detective had offered him more coffee, which he turned down in favor of water. He was starting to really feel decidedly sick, nothing solid to eat all day. He’d tossed the scone after a while. He wasn’t sure he could ever eat one again—or even smell one—and not associate it with today. They’d stayed at the house until Chad’s body was gone. Gev had insisted, couldn’t leave Chad there like that. The detective hadn’t minded, had run around talking to people while Gev stayed glued to the car, but eventually, finally, the silent ambulance had left with its lifeless cargo inside. Manny left too, hell-bent on his cat-finding mission, calling out, “Here, kitty kitty. Here, you little bitch. Where you at, Terror Screech? Come to Manny,” as he darted around by the other houses. Gev doubted Manny’s endearments would convince Screech to come to him. Gev hadn’t been allowed into the house, so he had no keys, no money, no identity, all of which one of the cops would bring him later. He hoped they had called his sister for him. He’d asked the cop to call only her, and then she would come and they could tell their parents together. But the questioning had lasted far longer than he’d thought it would. Same questions he’d been asked at the house, and asked again, then one more time for grins. Boring and terrifying all at once. Television crime shows barely touched what a crazy sort of scene this really was. Finally, the detective put down the phone he’d been talking on for a few minutes and motioned for Gev. He unclenched his hands, dreading what Harrison was going to say, even though it had to be okay. Still, he found himself holding his breath. “All right, Mr. Sinclair. Your alibis check out, though we’ve yet to talk to Mr. Kilmain and his bodyguard. They’re still in the air.” Gev let out his breath, but he was confused. “What about Lee?” “Actually, he’s on his way, should be here shortly. You told me he was flying home this morning.” Gev fell silent at that. Lee had stayed? That was odd. But Gev was glad, he realized. He was very glad, and Lee was coming to the station. Nina would be thrilled, though she’d been little more than a baby when Lee left. He wasn’t sure if he wanted his parents to see Lee, especially his mom. Then again, it might do them all good, maybe even Lee. The guy needed to get the past behind him. He might be rich, but the life he was leading didn’t seem like very much fun. Lonely as hell. Gev knew all too well how that felt. He realized Harrison was waiting for him to say something. “Thanks. I thought he was going with them. Sorry.” The detective said, “He changed his mind and was checking into another hotel when we found him in Arlington.”

Long Way Home

53

“He lived there when he was a kid. So did we, but my parents moved to Plano later.” “Also what he told me.” The detective stood. “Your sister is here, and Mr. Nelson will be here shortly. You’ll be notified when you can return to the house, but it will be at least two days. Possibly longer.” “I’m not sure I want to go back there. Do you know if my cat was found?” He felt silly asking, but he was really worried about the little terror. “A neighbor had him, gave him to the coffee man.” Gev relaxed a little at last. “Thanks. Sorry about Manny. He just… He’s nosy.” “No problem. That nosiness is in your favor. He was able to help us a great deal, identifying every customer who came in, except three businessmen.” “We didn’t know them at all.” “Exactly. But we won’t need them; there were at least five people who saw you there during the approximate time of death.” Gev had started to stand but sat again at that. “The time of death. When was it? Can you tell me?” His voice was suddenly raw, and damn, he sounded scared, even to himself. “Between eight thirty and nine. Best that can be determined at this time. A neighbor saw you leaving for your run as he was leaving for work in his car. He had to return to the house to get his lunch, and when he came out, he saw someone in front of the house. He was unable to provide much of a description.” Gev’s insides wanted dearly to revolt. “He saw someone.” He wrapped his arm around his stomach, wishing he had eaten that scone after all. “Five minutes later.” Five minutes, and he would’ve been dead too. Gev stood. He needed out of there. He needed to see his sister. “I could’ve been killed.” “You could’ve. Probably would’ve. Whatever the motive, he didn’t take any chances.” “But they were found apart from each other. Chad was in my bed. Maybe it was random, because of that?” Gev hoped. “One of the many unexplained questions we have. But that also confirms that if you hadn’t woken up and left when you did… Well. In any case, it looks like—barring any new information—you’re no longer a suspect.” Harrison came from around the table and offered his hand, which brought Gev intense relief. He took the proffered hand and shook it. “Thank you, Detective. I appreciate it. This is… If I’d been…” He hesitated. “My parents have been through this before. I’m glad—” The detective dropped his hand and stared at Gev, eyebrows furrowed. “They’ve been through this before? When?” Then Gev remembered the ticket. There was no way this could be a coincidence, could it? “Is there something you know, that you remembered, Mr. Sinclair?” There was no avoiding it. “I told you Lee and I hadn’t seen each other in years? We only met again last night because someone sent him tickets to the ballet. After we met last night, and he realized it wasn’t me who had sent them, we both thought it very deliberate, that someone wanted us to meet again.” The detective returned to the pad on his desk and began to write. He motioned Gev to sit back down.

54

Carolyn Gray

Gev did so, stifling a sigh. “Why would they do that; do you have any idea?” “I don’t know. But my brother, when he and Lee were twelve, he disappeared. Lee was there too.” He took a deep breath. “They never found out who did it. Stefan was gone. So was his dog.” “Mr. Nelson didn’t mention this.” “He was pretty destroyed by it, but it was so long ago. He couldn’t remember anything either. They found him hours later, hurt, and he’d been knocked out.” “A shame. He might’ve been able to help find who took your brother.” Gev’s face hardened. “He was a kid. It wasn’t his fault.” He realized he sounded angry, but he’d grown up listening to his mother go over and over Lee’s inability to help. She’d called it unwillingness, spite, even accused Lee of hating them and withholding what he knew, wanting to punish her for some imagined hurt. His dad always said it wasn’t like that, that Lee was an innocent victim. His mother never would be convinced of that, especially after she found out about Dream. The detective nodded. “Of course it wasn’t.” “He’s lucky to have escaped, but my mom can’t seem to get that.” “He’s lucky, or he might have been let go on purpose.” Gev dropped his gaze. He’d thought that too. Stefan had been really beautiful, the kind of kid that would attract someone’s attention. Lee was good-looking too, in his own way, but Stef outshone him. Stef still outshone everyone, even though he was dead. Gev bit down that resentment. “It might’ve been a coincidence about the tickets. They get presents and gifts and tickets to things all the time. Usually, though, the fan lets them at least know who it was.” “The tickets were anonymous, then?” “Yes. And there were only two. Mutt, Nick’s bodyguard, never leaves his side. Margot saw to it Mutt could attend too.” The detective tapped the notepad with his pen. “It might be nothing. Likely is. How long have you been with the ballet?” “About a year.” “Where were you before?” Many places. “Chicago, Atlanta, wherever.” “Places Dream had been.” It had happened before. “Yeah. I guess so. There’s been a couple of times I knew they were close to where I was, but I never went to see them.” He took a deep breath. “Total coincidence, then.” “More than likely. But given your brother wasn’t found—What was his name again?” “Stefan.” The momentary relief at the thought that it was a coincidence snapped away. “Stefan Sinclair.” Harrison wrote the name down, along with something else. Gev wondered what. “How old were you?” “Almost ten. Lee and my brother let me play with them sometimes.” “I’d like to talk to your parents about your brother.”

Long Way Home

55

Gev grimaced. “My mom isn’t over it. She gets upset still.” “Understandable.” “I guess.” Gev avoided the detective’s eyes. When he met Gev’s mom, he’d understand. “Do you remember who the detective was on the case? I’d like to notify him too.” “Her, actually. Connie Ramirez. Consuelo.” The detective’s eyes lit up. “Of course. I thought this situation sounded vaguely familiar. I’ll talk to her about it tonight, if she hasn’t heard already.” Harrison looked more kindly at him now. Gev wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. He was a mess, his emotions fractured; he couldn’t keep up with how everything the detective said shot him in a different direction. The door opened. A cop came in, carrying a brown bag and a suitcase. One of Chad’s. Gev didn’t care, except he hoped his clothes were in there, not Chad’s. They had quite different tastes. She set the suitcase down and handed the bag to Gev. “Wallet, keys. Suitcase has basic personal items, some clothes.” “Any idea when I can go back myself and get the rest?” “Sorry. Just delivering. Hope I got everything you’ll need.” “Thanks.” He took his wallet and keys out of the bag and pocketed both. After the cop left, Harrison said, “Tell me more about what happened to your brother.” “My parents waited for ransom notes, something, anything, but after Stefan was taken, there was nothing. No other kids were taken, either. Detective Ramirez hasn’t given up. She comes and sees me perform now and then.” “She likes the ballet.” Detective Harrison closed his notebook, not explaining further. Gev thought he must’ve missed something, but when the detective stood again, Gev did too. Was he finally free to go? “All right. That’s all the questions I have for now, but I’ll be in touch. I have all your contact numbers. Where will you be staying?” “With my parents, I guess. Or my sister. One or the other.” “All right. Thank you. You’ve been a great help.” Harrison flashed that disconcerting smile again. “Remember, keep me aware of where you are at all times.” “What? What do you mean?” Dread settled on him again. “I mean, Mr. Sinclair, though you don’t appear to be a suspect, you are, in my eyes at least, still a potential victim.” “I could still be in danger, then, like Manny said.” The detective nodded. “He’s a smart man.”

**** Gev was glad to finally get the heck out of there. As he walked down the hallway toward the waiting room where his sister was, he realized he actually felt incredible relief from telling the detective all he knew about the past. It’d been a pretty damn good release. No one, after all, had really asked him anything about the case after the initial questioning. He was too damn young when Stefan was kidnapped, barely remembered any of it, honestly. Still, he’d known enough. He’d hurt. He’d missed his brother so damn much, it colored everything he did, every day spent without him. He wasn’t meant to be the oldest kid. The only

56

Carolyn Gray

boy. The one to fulfill parental expectations. Though they’d never said, he’d known his parents hadn’t been too happy when he blew off college in favor of a ballet career, even though his mom had danced. And when he’d come out, his mother’s cold anger had chilled him. At least his dad—and Nina, of course—hadn’t cared. As Gev approached the room, he hesitated, hoping Nina was alone and Mason hadn’t come with her. He opened the door and poked his head inside. She was alone. “Nina,” he said in relief. She whirled around, her eyes widening. “Gev. Oh, Gev, you’re really all right.” She rushed to him and hugged him fiercely before pulling back and cradling his head in her hands. She searched his face, her eyes brimming. “Are you okay?” “Yeah. It’s been pretty rough, but I’m okay now.” She hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, a shudder escaping him. He refused to cry, even though, dammit, there was every reason to cry. Chad was dead. He, on the other hand, was lucky as hell. He pulled away. “Can we get out of here?” “Lee’s coming. Don’t you want to wait?” Gev slid his hand down to hers, a jolt running through him at the thought of seeing Lee again. But he didn’t want Nina to detect his reaction. “Yeah. I guess so. I forgot they’d found him. I saw him last night. He’s changed a lot.” She motioned for him to follow her and headed for an unoccupied couch. As she sat, she pulled him down with her and turned sideways so she could see him. “Need anything to drink? They have a little refrigerator in here.” “No, I’m fine. I need something to eat more.” She raised her hand and messed with his bangs. “Sloppy.” He pulled away, though he didn’t mind. “Of course. It’s my style.” Her blue eyes shimmered. “I’m so, so sorry, Gev. I liked Chad. Very much.” Gev turned away from her, dropping his hands to his knees, then hanging them between his legs. He squirmed. The couch pretty much sucked; he could swear a spring was poking him in the back. “I know. I can’t believe—” He looked at her. “If it’d been me, if I hadn’t gone running—” “But you did,” she said, her voice fierce. Two women passing looked down at them. Nina bent her head closer to his. “You did. You’re okay. It’s going to be all right. Understand?” “Yeah. I guess.” “What happened, happened. Until we find out who did this, you don’t go blaming yourself, hear me? Or after. Anytime. People are going to pound this into you, the what-if crap, but don’t let them get to you, okay?” Gev drew in his breath. He hadn’t thought about that, but she was right, of course. The next few months were going to be hell, no matter what. “I’m not looking forward to seeing his parents.” She rubbed his shoulder. “The other guy, did you know him?” “Nope.” Gev sat back, trying to avoid the bad spot on the back of the couch. “I didn’t. Didn’t even meet him. Just saw him sleeping. All I know is, Chad picked him up last night.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Biggest mistake of that guy’s life.”

Long Way Home

57

“We’ll have to find out who he is.” “Yeah. I told Lee about you and the kids.” She patted his knee, then yawned. “Sorry. What did he think?” “He said he admired you. Ready-made triplets, couldn’t imagine it.” “Is he married? Does he have kids?” He really didn’t want to look at his sister when he was talking about Lee. He wasn’t sure why either. Maybe because he couldn’t get Lee out of his mind. Maybe because he’d gone through a period where he’d collected all of Dream’s posters, CDs, anything he could get. Especially the ones that actually had pictures of Lee. Yeah, it had been silly and very queenish behavior, but he was little more than a kid, and his memories of Lee had all been marked by how nice Lee was, always interested in him and what he was doing. Once, he’d even come to Gev’s defense when some kids were picking on him. After Lee had talked with them, they’d stopped. What Lee had done, Gev never knew. And that had been after Stefan disappeared, he realized. That was really the last time he and Lee had talked. “No, not married or any kids. He really didn’t say much. We were with Nick and his bodyguard, so we didn’t get much time to talk. He was going to leave last night. Figured that’d be it.” “He stayed here, though. Think he’d visit the parents? They’ll be excited to hear he’s in town.” Gev wasn’t so sure of that. “Speaking of the ’rents, I need to tell them about this.” She sighed. “I know. I think it’s probably best to go tell them yourself. I’ll go with you, if you’d like.” She looked tired. He hated to put her out of her way. “Thanks.” He hugged her. “Damn. I don’t have my car here.” She looked confused for a moment, then widened her eyes. “Oh yeah.” She bit her lip. “They’ll go over that too, I imagine. Is Screech okay?” “Manny has her. The best witness they have, and it’s a cat.” He groaned at that. “So you’ll know, they thought I was a suspect at first. They had to ask me a lot of questions. I told them about Stefan.” Her shoulders slumped. “It’ll never end, will it? Do they think there’s a connection?” “Maybe. Lee was given tickets to the ballet anonymously. I looked up after my first number, and there he was. I about fell off the stage, seeing him again.” “He must look the same,” she said, smiling gently at him. “Or you still have a crush on him, after all these years.” “I don’t—” He closed his mouth, feeling his face heat. Damn sisters. “How’d you know I had a crush on him?” He wanted to protest, but unfortunately, he knew that would be useless. She slid her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Since you were, oh, about seventeen or so, I guess. The moment you got your first Dream poster, and unlike all the girls, you wanted ones that had all the band members, including Lee. And then you got other pictures and cut out Nick Kilmain and the others. It was pretty obvious you were crushing bad on Lee.” “You were only thirteen!”

58

Carolyn Gray

She tapped her head. “And wise beyond my years. I realized pretty early my baby brother was gay.” “I’m not your baby brother,” he protested, but she’d made him laugh. “And yeah, I figured as much by then too. Impossible to deny anymore.” “It used to make you mad, I remember, when people found out you danced and assumed you were gay.” “That was absolutely beside the point, that’s why. Lots of straight dancers.” “True. Maybe one or two. Maybe we can leave for a little while, get you something to eat. Would you like that? My treat. There must be a Subway nearby.” “That would be fantastic.” He got up, offering her his hand and yanking her up as he had when they were kids, then pulled her into a hug. “Gev,” she said, releasing him except for one hand on his arm. “I’m really glad—so very glad—you’re okay. If anything had happened to you—” “I know, but as you said, nothing did. And I’m fine now.” “But if there’s a connection?” “If there is, they’ll find it. In the meantime, can I stay with you? I’m kind of homeless at the moment.” “Bad news—the girls are sick. They only started antibiotics this morning. We were at the doctor’s when I got the phone call. I had to get their prescription filled before I could get here.” Which explained why she looked so exhausted. “What’s wrong?” She made a face. “Strep again. I swear, I want them to share, but this is ridiculous. I wish they had a vaccine for it. Only Colby is okay, and I’ve sent him to the grandparents’. He’d love it if you stayed there with him.” “All right.” He really didn’t want to stay with his parents, but if the kid was there, at least his mom would stay chilled. Her instant grandkids were the only thing she was happy about anymore. They walked toward the front door. Gev pushed the door open and let Nina go through. “No problem,” he said. “He needs a break from all those women anyway. Poor kid might turn out gay or something, being forced to play dress-up all the time like they make him.” She ruffled his hair, and for a moment, he actually believed everything would be okay.

**** Lee parked the rental outside the police station, still stunned by what he’d been told less than an hour before. He couldn’t believe this had happened, that Gev’s roommate and his friend had been killed. That if not for going running that morning and staying away for a while, Gev would’ve been killed too. The thought made Lee sick. Having to go into a police station after all these years made him sick too. He sat for a while in the car, dreading what was to come next. He knew all too well what they’d do—put him in a room by himself with the head cop or a detective, then grill him about his whereabouts. Never mind he had a solid alibi, at least for part of the morning. He wondered why it was so imperative they see him immediately. He really didn’t want to talk to them, wished he’d left with Nick and Mutt, wished he had never talked Nick into going to the ballet.

Long Way Home

59

And yet, seeing Gev again might’ve been worth it. And he had to admit to himself as he turned off the car and got out, the thought of seeing Gev again was the whole reason he’d stayed behind in the first place. He didn’t want to examine his motives too closely. Gev wasn’t Stefan, and Lee wasn’t stupid enough to make the mistake of thinking otherwise. Gev was very much alive. And very different from his brother. A flash of naked skin rippled through Lee’s mind— Gevan as he pulled on a shirt, Lee’s mind reversing the action and pulling it off. He forced the image away. He had to keep his thoughts from dwelling deeper than that. Schooling his features, he entered the building and headed for the front desk. He walked up to the woman sitting at her computer, one phone tucked beneath her chin, another beside her. She did a double-take, her eyes widening. Great. Another fan. They seemed to be everywhere, which of course they were since the comeback tour had begun. Being in one of the world’s most talkedabout bands had its drawbacks, but usually he could get by unnoticed. “Mr. Nelson?” Lee looked up. A silver-haired man in a suit approached. Lee waited, tense already. “Yes, I’m Lee Nelson.” “I’m Marc Harrison, the detective assigned to the Chad Hill case. Will you come with me?” Lee followed Harrison. He assumed Chad Hill was Gev’s roommate. Dead roommate. They entered a crowded hallway, not speaking. A hundred questions floated through Lee’s mind. For instance, where was Gev? “In here, please,” Harrison said, opening a door to a room full of people. Lee wondered if there’d be any privacy anywhere. This was like on cop shows—desk after desk, computers at each one, along with harried-looking police officers. People dashing about, some laughter, a lot of silly decorations on some desks, none on others. This was where the normal day-to-day life of a cop not out on patrol took place. “That way. We’ll take one of those.” Harrison indicated a series of doors at the end of the room. “Margaret,” he asked an older, faded-blonde woman at the closest desk. “Any of the rooms available?” Unlike most in this room, instead of a uniform she wore a smart gray suit with a bright fuchsia blouse. She greeted Lee warmly, but without the flash of recognition he’d come to dread. “Um, let me see. I’m sure we can help you, Marc.” She slipped on a pair of rimless glasses and shuffled papers around on her desk. “Now, who moved my calend—There it is.” She read through it, then peered through her glasses at the series of closed doors. Her desk smelled like peppermints. Lee wondered if Gev had gone through all this already or if they’d taken him somewhere else. He also wondered if Gev was considered a suspect. Lee didn’t see how he wouldn’t be. “Take room two,” Margaret said, smiling briefly at Lee. “Cheri should be about done.” Harrison motioned for Lee to follow him. He opened a door, presumably to room two. Inside, a young woman dressed casually but with a badge on her jacket sat at a table spread with a scattering of files. She looked up at them, a flustered look on her face. “Time’s up, Cheri,” Harrison said.

60

Carolyn Gray

She sighed and started to gather her things. “I swear, if they don’t fix the damn a/c in our offices soon, I’m going on strike.” She stood, stuffing her things into a black case. “They fixed yours yet?” “No, still set to sauna.” “Because they’re blasting all the cold air into here.” She rolled her eyes, pulled a purse over her shoulder, and yanked the case up. “It’s all yours.” “We shouldn’t be too long, if you want it back.” She ran a hand over her hair, messing up what she might’ve meant to straighten. Her gaze darted to Lee. She blinked, eyes widening briefly, but said nothing. “That’s okay. Think I’ll head for Starbucks, get some iced coffee. Maybe I can get a back corner.” She moved past them, heading out the door. “See you later.” “All right, Mr. Nelson. Come on in here and have a seat. I promise this won’t take long.” Lee followed, hesitating when Harrison closed the door behind them. The woman had been right—it was freezing in the room. Harrison noticed Lee’s hesitance. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask anything incriminating. You won’t need a lawyer.” Lee was not so reassured. “So you say.” Harrison indicated the seat opposite the one he’d taken, then glared up at the air vents. “If they’d replace the damn thing, we wouldn’t be going from tropics to subzero inside of five minutes. Sorry about this.” “It’s all right.” Harrison placed his hands together and studied Lee’s face. Lee steeled himself, making sure he remained relaxed. He had nothing to hide, but he felt like he was about to get interrogated anyway. “We’ve already checked your whereabouts. You were driving up the North Tollway and back during the time the murders were likely committed.” “How—” Then he remembered. “Cameras.” “Handy bastards. Total nuisance, really, though. Revenue has dropped since adding those things, and I can’t tell you how many have been shot out. Anyway, sit, please.” Lee forced himself to relax a little. Harrison was like a myriad of TV detectives—they seemed to come either as scruffy, Columbo-types with OCD or like this guy: neat, orderly, calm, organized. For Gev’s sake, he hoped Detective Harrison was damn good. “Is Gev all right?” he asked. “Gev? Mr. Sinclair? Fine, fine. Shaken up, but understandable.” Harrison’s face was implacable, giving Lee nothing more. The detective took out a notepad. “So that means he’s not under suspicion?” “No, that doesn’t mean he’s not under suspicion.” “Oh.” Lee shifted in his seat, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he was. “What can I help you with, then? Why am I here?” “To tell us about Mr. Sinclair and also about your time together last night. If you saw anyone suspicious, anything strange happen. Did you notice anyone paying undue attention?” “Everyone pays us undue attention,” Lee said wryly.

Long Way Home

61

Harrison raised an eyebrow. “Point taken. Mr. Sinclair informed me about his brother and your involvement. And about how you met again last night. Tell me about that, Mr. Nelson.” Lee took a deep breath. The last time he was in a situation like this, he’d been thirteen and too damn hurt and scared over what had happened and the fact that Stefan’s kidnapper had gotten away. For years, he’d been terrified the man would come back and finish what he had started. Lee was the one person who might identify the abductor, though he’d never been able to. The blows to his head took care of that. “Everything about the whole thing was strange,” he admitted. “In what way?” Lee felt like fidgeting, but he didn’t, instead curling his toes in his shoes, clenching his hands beneath the table, flexing them, trying to relax. “The tickets Nick received—I received. They were unusual.” “Oh, how so? And Nick—” “Nick Kilmain.” “And he is…?” Of all people not to know who Nick Kilmain was? Lee didn’t believe it for a second. “My boss. Lead singer for Dream. I play bass for him.” “For how long?” Harrison asked, scribbling notes on the paper. “About ten years.” “And to answer the doubt in your eyes, I do know Dream. My niece is nuts about Kilmain. Might have to ask for your autograph.” Lee groaned. Silently. “Anyway, Mr. Nelson—or would you rather…” “Lee, please. That’s fine.” “Tell me about the tickets. Why were they unusual?” “Because fans usually, almost always, sign their names at the very least. Fans tend to be— They tend to be insistent on us knowing who they are.” He waved one hand. “My niece is fourteen. I know.” Lee couldn’t help but smile at the way he said that. “But it was our last performance weekend. We had time to kill.” He winced. “So we decided to go. Nick asked me to go with him; we didn’t realize until later the tickets were for me.” Harrison waited. He looked at Lee. “And?” “Nick was headed for me when the tickets came, but he got a phone call that distracted him. The envelope was handed to him, so he assumed they were his.” “Is it unusual for you to get gifts? Not unusual for Kilmain, but what about you?” “Just the bass player, I know,” he conceded. “But there are plenty sent to me, to all of us, especially after last year. Especially to Tommy.” “He was the one who…” “Blew up.” “Why do you think these came when you were headed to Dallas? Mr. Sinclair told me there were times he was performing in the same city, or near to, your concerts. Nothing happened then.”

62

Carolyn Gray

Lee wondered if Gev had ever come to see a concert. The thought of Gev out in the audience, watching him, stirred something in him he wasn’t too sure about. If Gev had, Lee wished he’d known. He would’ve liked to have met him again before now. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know. I wasn’t initially going to come to Dallas.” “But you changed your mind. Why?” Lee stiffened again, then forced himself to relax. The questions were driving him nuts. Nice questions, make nice, get him to relax, then wham! But he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. “It’d been a while since I’ve been here. Since—” “Since Stefan. You left a year after that.” “I went to live with my grandmother. It was too difficult here.” He realized he was clenching his hands into fists. He had no wish to talk about that, just as he hadn’t the night before. Harrison tapped his pen, his expression thoughtful. He looked up at Lee. “It’s tough, being a survivor. I actually know that for a fact. I got into police work because my sister—my niece’s mom—was nearly beaten to death. The cops on the case were brilliant, tracked down the suspect in two days, arrested the bastard, had an airtight case, and he’s still enjoying the fine dining in prison.” Lee was surprised at the edge of anger-fueled passion in the man’s voice, but he could understand it. “You were fortunate—she was—that it was solved. Stefan’s case was never solved, the guy never caught.” Harrison narrowed his eyes shrewdly, and Lee realized he had purposely steered Lee that direction. He began to feel a shade of alarm as the thought of truly encountering the creator of his nightmares surfaced once again, after a long dormancy. It made him sick. “You really do think this is connected.” “It is possible.” “But how? Why?” Harrison sat back. “Anonymous tickets. Gev finds out only when he sees you that you’re in town. Shocked, he too is forced to relive that time, his brother’s disappearance. And now, his roommate and a stranger are killed. Chad Hill was in Gev’s bed when he was killed. He looked remarkably like Gev.” A chill went through Lee. “Shit.” “No shit, Mr. Nelson. “ He pulled a card out of his pocket. “If you think of anything—and I mean any little tiny snit of information—from now, or even before, even from when you were thirteen—” “That was a long time ago,” Lee said almost automatically. He took the card. “Exactly. You’re grown now, lost those little-boy fears. You were only thirteen, had been through a harrowing experience, had no family support. The detective on that case is”—there was a strange quirk to his lips—“let’s say she’s close to me, and I’ve touched base with her to let her know what’s going on. I fully expect her involvement. She remembers you very well. You were haunted, she said, and she figured you probably knew more than you could say back then.” Lee wanted to protest. The guilt slammed him. Damn shitty guilt. “I did the best I could,” he said stiffly.

Long Way Home

63

Harrison spread his hands, sitting back in his chair. Appeasing. But his words stabbed at Lee. “You did. You gave them what you could. You endured a terrible beating.” Lee stiffened at that and looked away. He wished Harrison would stop. “And survived it when it was thought you wouldn’t. You were able to tell the detective in charge a lot more than you realized. You kept on living. That took a lot of guts. You were a very brave kid then. But there might be more now you can tell us, things you’ve thought about over the years. Or you can’t remember if you mentioned or not. Time heals a lot of wounds, but it can steal one’s memory as well. Except,” he said, tapping his skull, “when it sharpens it. Has time sharpened your memory, Lee?” Lee stayed silent. He didn’t know how to answer that question. He couldn’t answer that question. Instead he stood and left the room. Harrison did nothing to stop him.

64

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Nine Walking outside, Lee turned to face the afternoon sun. It felt good after the freezing interrogation room to let the sunshine chase away the chill. The whole day was nearly over, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Going back to the hotel didn’t appeal, and he imagined Gev was long gone. He’d initially been requested to stay in Dallas a few days, which he’d intended to do anyway. He needed to call Nick, though, tell him all that was going on, and he needed—no, he wanted—to find Gev. The desire to see Gev again surprised him. He needed to see, with his own eyes, that Gev really was okay. He pulled out his phone and called Nick but only got his voice mail. “Nick, give me a call when you get this.” He ended the call and shoved the phone into his front pocket as he headed for the rental car. He could always go shopping. Get Jonathan and Amanda a few more presents for their new house. “Lee! Wait!” Lee stopped midstride. His heart nearly exploded as he twirled around and saw Gev running toward him. It was all he could do not to burst out in a melodramatic run and scoop Gev up in his arms as if he were still a ten-year-old needing comfort. The look on Gev’s face as he slowed to a jog stopped Lee. But it made him happy. What the hell am I thinking? “Gev, you okay?” To his shock, Gev threw himself into Lee’s arms and hugged him fiercely. Lee closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Gev, the shock waves of Gev’s hard, warm body chasing away the last of his chill. Lee wasn’t an emotional person, at least on the outside, but it took all his will and determination to keep from showing his reaction. Gev pulled back. “I’m fine.” He didn’t look fine to Lee. He looked ragged and exhausted. “Okay, not so fine, but at least I’m alive.” He looked unbearably sad for a moment but shook it off and looked over his shoulder. “Remember little Nina?” Lee stared at the woman approaching. Gev resembled his brother—there would’ve been no mistaking they were siblings—but this woman? She could’ve been Stefan’s twin. She held out her hand as she reached them. “I don’t really remember you, but I know all about you.” She glanced at her brother as Lee took her hand and shook it, wondering what the hell that look was all about. Especially since Gev wrapped his arms around himself and turned a bit red. “Nina,” Gev warned. “Nice to meet you, Nina. I remember you.” “In diapers,” Gev said. Nina smacked her brother. “I was five, jerk, and not in diapers. Just because you stayed in diapers until four—”

Long Way Home

65

“Nina!” Gev said again, clearly horrified. Lee had to wrench himself from the mire of memories at seeing both of them again. Her eyes were so like his, it gave Lee shivers. She wouldn’t know that; perhaps even Gev didn’t know. But Lee was sure their parents did. “Sorry, Gev. But, Lee, he’s a big fan of Dream.” “Nina—” “He had posters of you guys all over his walls when he was younger.” Gev playfully tackled his sister, whirling her around to shut her up. Lee ached inside as they kissed and fussed for a couple of seconds. He felt the intruder—because, of course, he was. They finally contained themselves and remembered he was there. Nina was the first to speak, and when she did so, her words were serious enough to kill the humor. “I’m sorry you had to walk into something like this. I know it must be hard.” “Did you talk to Detective Harrison too?” Gev asked. “I did. He thinks—” Gev interrupted Lee. “That there might be a connection to Stefan. I know. He told me the same thing.” He and his sister exchanged a look. “We haven’t told the parents yet. Will you come with us?” “Me?” he said in surprise. See the Sinclairs again? He wanted to say no—no way—but then Nina gently grasped his arm with both hands, her grip insistent, as if she were afraid he would run away at the suggestion. Not that he didn’t feel like it, but he found himself reluctant to part from these two. In fact, he didn’t want to leave them at all. As much as he tried to escape the past, he longed for a connection to it too. “Of course you,” Nina said. “They’ll be thrilled to see you.” Lee saw the sharp look Gev gave her. “I’m sorry. I should’ve kept up—” Nina hugged his arm before letting him go. “Nonsense. You had no reason to and certainly no obligation. You were just a kid when you left here.” “Still, I never forgot about you guys.” He looked at Gev when he said that, hoping he would understand. “I’m glad I’m here now, even with all that’s happened. I’m sorry about your roommate. And his friend.” Gev nodded, a haunted look back on his face. Lee knew that look—he sometimes saw it in the mirror himself. It would take Gev a long time to get those images out of his mind. He had seen one of the worst things a person could see. “I can’t believe it was only this morning I walked into that,” Gev said. “We need to get your mind off it,” Nina said, wrapping her arm around Gev’s waist. “Do you think you could eat something now?” “What about the girls?” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll check on them. Mason met me at the house when he heard what happened. They’re probably sleeping, and I think I’d like to be there when you go to the parents, if you don’t mind.” “No! I want you to!” Gev said. The faint stab of envy at what was obviously a very good relationship between the siblings surprised Lee. It had to be a wonderful thing to have a sister like Nina. Though his bandmates and their wives and lovers and siblings were all like family to him, he would never have anything

66

Carolyn Gray

like this. But it made him glad for Gev that he had Nina, especially after losing Stefan like he had. Once again, Lee’s thoughts turned to how hard it must’ve been for Gev. And apparently hard for Gev when Lee had left too. He hadn’t known, couldn’t have known. Yeah, he’d been a kid himself, traumatized and extraordinarily depressed and upset, but… He should’ve known. Nina flipped open her cell and took a few steps away, dipping her head to talk to her husband. Gev folded his arms over his chest again and looked at Lee. The wind toyed with his hair as the afternoon sun brushed across his face, brightening his eyes. The image of Gev flying through the air, propelled only by his own strength, flashed through Lee’s mind. Seeing Gev now, standing there in sweatpants, a ratty old jacket, and a bleached-out shirt, his face covered in light stubble, it should be hard to imagine he could do the things he could. Except, Lee could. He barely kept himself from reaching out and touching Gev, and an ache ripped through him that made him take a step back. Involved in Nina’s animated conversation, Gev missed Lee’s momentary lapse, to Lee’s relief. “Might be a few minutes. Mason’s an attorney, so he’s no doubt pumping her for information on everything.” “Is he in criminal law?” “Not at all. He’s a patent attorney. But he knows all about Stefan and everything.” And me? Lee wondered. “I hope you don’t mind going with us,” Gev said. “No, of course not. I can follow you guys, since your parents moved.” “Can I ride with you? My car’s back at the house.” Nina returned to them before Lee could answer. “Okay, all set. The girls are drugged and passed out. Mason’s doing work he brought home, although I heard the television on and know he’s watching TLC. Want to follow us, Lee? I guess you probably don’t know where the parents live.” “No, we’ll meet you there.” Lee stayed quiet, except for the crazy beating of his heart. The thought of being alone with Gev made him…unsettled. That’s what it was. Unsettled. Nina opened her mouth, eyes wide. “Of course. Fine with me. If I beat you there, I’ll wait.” “Nina likes to drive too fast,” Gev said. “The woman’s a terror on wheels.” She smacked him on the arm. “Just because you drive like a granny. I drive normal for a Dallas driver.” He ducked away from her, behind Lee—behind him close enough that Lee swore the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. Now he really was wondering what the hell was going on with him that he would be affected by this guy he’d just met…or, okay, re-met. But then he thought of those leaps and the body that had made them. Plus, Gev was gay and—according to his sister and, worse, not denied by Gev—had long had a crush on him. Lee wondered if he would be able to stand up to that. And then wondered why he should.

****

Long Way Home

67

“This is a nice car for a rental,” Gev said, running his hand appreciatively over the leather seat. “Only time I had a rental, I could only afford a Focus.” “Only the best for Nick Kilmain.” Gev settled back into the seat. “Ahh, yes. He’s something else. You must like working for him, though.” “Been with him and Brandon since the beginning, when they first got started, actually. His brother—” Lee cleared his throat. “Brandon’s brother Adam started the band but quit along with everyone else when they found out Brandon and Nick were lovers.” “But not you.” “No.” “Why didn’t you quit too?” Lee took himself back to that moment, sitting there in that chair, watching his two closest friends in the world embrace, kiss, Nick’s eyes bright with excitement as they realized that though one door had shut, a new, bigger, better one had opened for them both. He’d been a part of something amazing and yet outside it too—for Brandon and Nick, there wasn’t room for anyone else. The envy Lee had experienced at that moment fluttered in him now, teasing him. Perhaps even mocking him. Usually he pushed it aside, knowing it was not for the likes of him. Sometimes, though, his heart pushed back, insisting, Why not? “Because,” he said softly, “I knew greatness when I saw it, and I saw it in Brandon and Nick. They were magic together, and I wanted to be a part of what that meant.” Lee knew he sounded a bit overly passionate, but he was where those two were concerned. And after what they’d gone through, he wanted it clear to the world he would never let either of them down again. “Yeah, so the gay didn’t bother you.” Lee wondered what Gev was getting at. “No. Their sexuality doesn’t bother me at all. Actually, it’s kinda cute. Those two together are amazing. They have the most meaningful, beautiful relationship between two people I’ve ever seen.” Only when he’d spoken the last words did he realize how wistful he sounded. But if Gev noticed, he didn’t let on. To Lee’s relief. “Wish I could meet Brandon too someday.” “He’d like you. What are you doing last weekend of the month?” Shit. Lee gritted his teeth, wondered what the hell he was thinking. Or if he was thinking at all. “Last weekend? Why?” Gev’s eyes lit up. There was no way Lee could back down now. “Brandon’s brother is getting married.” “I thought—” “Oldest brother. Jonathan and Amanda.” “Oh. Well, I actually don’t have any plans. We get a little bit of a break before getting ready for the holiday season.” He pointed. “Turn there; it’s a shortcut.” He looked behind them. “Nina’s still following us. She hates this way.” “Why?” Lee said as they headed down a very nice street. “These houses are nice.” “I know! I would love to live in something like that. These houses were built in the 1930s, but most have been renovated now.”

68

Carolyn Gray

The houses were amazing, true. But he’d been in houses like these dozens of times— bigger ones, more glamorous, more breathtaking, more history-rich. To him, they were all bricks or stone or wood. Houses were not for him. He liked Nick and Brandon’s house in Durango a lot, though—wide open, in the mountains, not too big or ornate, just beautifully crafted. He’d never truly had a home of his own. Sure hadn’t grown up in a home. The house he’d inhabited—that was all he could call it—had long since been demolished. He’d seen to that himself, something he’d never told anyone. Another something he’d never told anyone. But the thought of having a home someday, maybe, appealed. He didn’t see the point now, not since, when he wasn’t with the band, he was alone. A hotel was better, just a couple of rooms, staff to worry about things, no responsibilities. No warmth, no love. An empty shell, like him. “Lee?” He startled. “What?” Gev tapped his arm. “Lost you a minute. You were supposed to turn back there.” “What? Sorry.” “Turn there. It’ll take you back around.” “Bet your sister’s wondering what the hell I’m doing.” “She probably thinks I had you do that to annoy her. What were you thinking about that made you look so…I don’t know, pissed off or something?” He wasn’t prepared for the question. And once again, he found himself not wanting to lie to Gev. Why, he wasn’t sure—maybe because he was Stefan’s brother, and Lee and Stefan never lied to each other about anything. And he was plain sick and tired of hiding every little thing about himself. After he left, he’d never see Gev again anyway. “Was thinking about the house I grew up in,” he said, his voice soft. Gev didn’t say anything for a minute. “You know it was torn down? There’s a new house there.” He shifted in his seat. “The cool thing? The house was rebuilt by Houses of Hope. The family that lives there now, the mom is a single mom with six kids, works at the hospital as a nurse. Two of the kids are disabled. It was in all the papers when she was given the house. You didn’t know about that?” “I knew. I backed the project financially.” Gev’s expression warmed Lee despite himself. “That? Is awesome. Good for you.” Gev ran his hand through his hair. “Shit, that was fucking great as hell to do.” Lee wasn’t used to that kind of reaction directed at him. The few he’d had to tell—the lawyers and bank—had thought he was crazy to do what he did, giving some random woman and her family a new home. “You’re filthy-mouthed, aren’t you? I thought ballet dancers were all pure and ethereal in thought and movement and all that.” Gev burst out laughing. “No fucking way. We all have our vices. Better cussing than some of the other things my friends do. Chad has a bad habit—” He stopped himself. “Shit,” he murmured. “Sorry, Gev.” “I’m going to miss him so damn much.” Lee hesitated, then said, “You guys were just friends?”

Long Way Home

69

“Yes,” Gev said. “Good friends. Lots of good times.” He propped his elbow on the door, chin in hand, and stared out the window. Lee regretted asking him. Upsetting him. “I’m sorry.” “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m not going to live there again. It was his place anyhow.” “You don’t have to think about it now. Not about that.” Gev dropped his gaze. He toyed absently with a hole in his sweatpants, his expression far away and lost. Lee found it difficult not to keep looking at him; he wasn’t sure if it was a dancer thing, but Gev’s facial expressions were the most animated and telling he’d ever seen on a person. He tried to remember if Gev had been like that as a kid; he thought so. Going back to those days wasn’t something Lee liked to do, but now that he was with Gev, he found it impossible not to think back to when they were both kids, when Stefan was alive. Before all hell had taken over and their lives had fallen apart. Gev looked up, slapping himself on the thigh, obviously pushing away whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him to. “We’re almost at the parents’. Two blocks after that stoplight, turn right. It’s the last house on the right.” He determinedly chased away the pall that had fallen over them both. “I will be at my most pristine when we’re there, I promise you.” He looked at Lee sternly, but his eyes danced in amusement. “And you better be too, Mr. Nelson. My mom still keeps bars of soap handy, you know. You don’t mess with the Russian. Everyone knows that.” He doubted seriously Gev’s mom would be likely to come at him with a bar of soap— more like a broom handle. He drove down the street toward the light. Gev’s mom really wasn’t a hard case, but he remembered more than once when she was irritated with something, the Russian really would fly. She hadn’t taught her kids her native language, which bothered Stefan when they were older, so he’d started to teach himself. He’d even tried to teach some to Lee, but he didn’t have Stef’s knack. At least, not for Russian. “So you and your mom get along all right?” “I guess. She’s not really been the same since Stefan. Dad’s okay, though.” Lee wondered what Gev wasn’t saying. “What happened when you came out?” he asked. He stopped at the stoplight, grateful for the chance to look at Gev’s face. He stared over the dashboard, not saying anything for a moment. He drummed his fingers on the door where he leaned against it. Finally he spoke as the light turned green. “They both took it hard. Dad came round first. Nina claims she always knew. If it weren’t for her, things would suck really bad around here. I wouldn’t be here; that’s for sure.” He fell silent, the faraway look back. Which in itself told Lee a lot. He remembered well how much Mrs. Sinclair had loved Stefan. Lee wondered what their parents would’ve thought to know Stefan too was gay. Gev seemed to play it straight around others. Stefan would’ve found it difficult, had he made it past thirteen. Lee looked in the mirror; Nina still followed. He waved, and she threw both hands up in exasperation. They’d annoyed her, but now he was glad of the extra time. Glad to understand Gev—and his parents—a little better. It was nice to tell someone about the house too. Gev’s reaction made him glad he had. “Here,” Gev said. Lee pulled the rental to a stop in front of the last house on the right.

70

Carolyn Gray

Ruby had been his mother’s nurse at the hospital when she died, had been kind to his mother in the end. His mother’s doctor had told Lee about the friendship the two women had struck up. He’d often wanted to ask Ruby if his mother had ever said anything about him, if she was proud of him, if she had the capability. He’d never had the courage. He liked to think, though, as nice as Ruby was to him the few times they’d met, that his mother hadn’t hated him, at least. The decision to give Ruby and her kids a house had been an easy one. He knew deep down that guilt had fueled the decision in part, but that kind of guilt he could live with. After so many years of hating his mother, he’d come to accept she’d been a very sick woman, and his father had kept her that way. It was his father he hated, never wanted to see again. He looked at his cell phone. Then again, there was a reason he had his dad’s number in there. Since he was staying a few extra days, he could drop by his dad’s house—once he found out where the man lived. He snorted to himself and wondered if his dad even knew about Dream. Somehow, he doubted it. “Uh, Lee, dude. Getting out?” Gev put his hand on Lee’s arm. Nina appeared at the door. “What? Sorry. I guess—” “This is hard. I know.” Lee hesitated. “I haven’t seen them really since my dad and I ran into them at the police station, the day—” “Why didn’t you come around afterwards?” Lee stared straight ahead. “My father wouldn’t let me. I didn’t know what to say anyway. I couldn’t—” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. Damn. He wasn’t the kind of guy to crumple like this. Steeling himself, he swallowed again, opened the car door, and got out. Gev stared at the empty seat next to him. Damn. He sat for a moment, his hand on the door handle, trying to make sense of all that had happened. The whole ride had been weird—and revealing as hell. That was different for Lee. He knew that. Nick had told him Lee didn’t tell anyone anything. Yet in the twenty-minute ride from the police station, he’d learned more about Lee than his closest friends ever knew. And had shared with Lee, sort of, the biggest hurt in his own life. He could guess what it must’ve been like, even though Lee was straight, to deal with Brandon and Nick’s decision to be open about their relationship. It could’ve killed Dream, but instead, the group had skyrocketed, hit after hit. Lee had stuck with them through it all. Gev wanted to hear more about that story someday. What the heck had motivated Lee to buy that particular woman—a struggling, black, single mom in her forties with six kids, who had lived in her parents’ rundown old home with three bedrooms—a practical mansion? He’d seen pictures. The house was gorgeous, two full stories, with rooms for four of the kids on the second floor, the mom and the two disabled kids on the bottom. State of the art, really. Even had an elevator, he’d read. Hell, Lee’d helped the entire street look better, not stopping with that house. For all Gev knew, Lee had paid off everyone’s house on that block.

Long Way Home

71

He guessed Lee had that kind of money. Nick Kilmain was rich, and he and Brandon adored Lee, and he’d been there since the beginning, and Lee apparently didn’t own anything… Which meant Lee had to be a fucking millionaire himself. The man was an enigma. Gev got out. Lee was talking to Nina, acting all normal. To hell with that. There was nothing about Lee Nelson that was normal. He really was as mysterious as his friends said. As much of a mystery as who had killed Chad and his friend. He felt terrible for Curtis’s and Chad’s families. Chad hadn’t had the best relationship with his parents, but his kid sister would be devastated. Had it all really happened only today? His mind whirled with the day’s events, though the puzzle that was Lee stayed in the forefront. “Talking about me, huh?” he said as he joined Lee and his sister. Nina glared at him, but her eyes said otherwise. “You told him to go the long way.” “Scenic route,” Gev said. “I asked him to. A lot I haven’t seen in a while. It’s changed.” “Not necessarily for the better, either. But it’s home.” Nina looked from one to the other. “Okay, guys, might as well get this over with.” The front door opened. “Mom’s got the ears of an elephant,” she said, dropping her voice. Gev saw his mom standing on the front porch, her expression stiff. He wished he could turn around and leave, but then she gave a tentative wave. His nephew appeared in the doorway holding a giant cookie. “Just in time. We made cookies,” his mother called out. “Better hurry before he eats them all.” “Okay, come on,” Gev said to the others as he approached. “Cookies? Awesome! Hey, brought you a surprise. Look who I found at the performance last night?” His mother’s eyes widened as she focused on Lee. Her hand flew to her chest, and she said a few words beneath her breath, no doubt in Russian. “Lee.” Then louder, “Lee Nelson.” She looked faint for a moment, then recovered before Gev could ask what the hell was wrong with her. She took a few steps toward Lee. Gev stood back, looking at Lee as he approached, his hands in his pockets. Gev studied Lee’s reaction, watched the expression on his face. The openness was gone, replaced by what Gev was starting to think of as the guard-dog look. He realized he should’ve asked what Lee thought of his parents. He could only guess. “Hello, Mrs. Sinclair.” She blinked, looking distinctly uncomfortable, then recovered and smiled nervously. “You don’t have to call me that, Lee. Irini is fine.” Lee took a deep breath, shot a quick glance at Gev. Gev instantly knew that his mother hadn’t missed Lee’s hesitation, the flash of trepidation, even wariness, that momentarily crossed Lee’s face. Nor had Lee missed hers. This was going great. “You’re looking well.” Her words were light, forced, her face tight.

72

Carolyn Gray

The kid saved the day. “Hey, Mom, we made cookies!” Colby bounded down the steps, cookie in hand. Nina hurried past them. “How many has he eaten?” she said with a groan. “Only a few. He said you never make cookies.” “More like his sisters hog them all. And his dad.” Colby bounced up and down on his toes. “Uncle Gev, are you on a diet still?” Gev adored the kid when his question caused Lee to smile. “No, not today, I guess. I want ten of those, at least.” “Ten! No way. You’ll, uh, get cavities!” “How many have you had already?” Colby screwed up his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Only six!” “Six of the biggest, I bet,” Nina said, eyeing him. “Okay, that’s the last one, then. Inside, kiddo.” She scooted her stepson back inside, ending the momentary chaos. “How long are you in town, Lee?” Gev’s mom said. “Staying a few days, just to visit.” “That’s nice. Come on inside.” She looked up at the sky, which was starting to cloud a little. Gev followed after her. “Mom, I need to talk to you and Dad.” “Your father’s out in the work shed. I can call him inside. “No. This is something that can’t be discussed in front of Colby.” Gev swallowed, realizing his throat had tightened. They walked into the living room; he could hear Nina and Colby talking in the kitchen. Lee stood behind him. The living area was stiflingly small and hot to Gev. Without another word, his mom pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and quickly texted his dad. If the situation hadn’t been so grave, if he hadn’t been so wound up, the fact that his mother texted his dad from inside the house would’ve amused him. She slid the phone back into her pocket. “I told him we’re coming to talk to him there.” She turned to Lee. “He’ll be glad to see you, Lee.” Then she headed for the sliding glass door, her steps clipped, hurried. If Lee felt anything about the exchange, he didn’t show it. Gev wanted nothing more than to walk out of there. He hated talking about Stefan, much less bringing up anything that would remind his parents of it all. And now this. Lee leaned into him. “You okay?” Gev took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting against the fucking swelling of his throat. He dropped his hand, stared up at the ceiling. His heart raced, and his palms were sweaty. “Not sure. Fucking delayed reaction.” “Probably is. I’d react the same, after all you saw.” Lee laid a hand on his shoulder, surprising him. He looked up at Lee. The vague realization of how dark Lee’s eyes were, how long his lashes were, flickered through his mind. The touch was reassuring. Gev scrambled for something to say. “I collapse at the slightest thing,” he finally said.

Long Way Home

73

Lee’s eyes flashed. “This wasn’t the slightest thing. Your roommate got murdered. That could’ve been you, man. That would’ve been tragic as hell. I just got here.” A weird sensation of…of… What? He didn’t know. He could only look at Lee, confused as hell, but comforted too by what Lee had said. Lee really had stuck around for him, then. Maybe for all of them; Gev couldn’t guess. Maybe Lee wanted to make peace with everything. Gev hoped it took a while. He didn’t want Lee to leave. Gev took a deep breath, drawing strength from Lee’s presence, those dark eyes with the kind of lashes he knew plenty of women would kill for. “We’d better go on out there. They’ll wonder what’s taking us so long.” “They can wait. Take a minute.” “Yeah.” Gev took a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his head. Lee watched him, waiting patiently. Gev’s heart flip-flopped. This is insane! The guy was straight; he knew that. But he couldn’t stop the disappointment. “Okay. I think I’m okay.” “Come on, then,” Lee said, gently turning him. “Let’s go get this over with.” “Okay,” was all Gev could get out.

74

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Ten As they followed Irini, Lee had to admire what Gev’s parents had done with their backyard. The branches of giant oaks spread above the thick grass, bordered by flower gardens that were obviously tended with care. A baseball and a couple of gloves sat on a lawn chair, and a waterfall splashed into a pool thick with lily pads. A gray cat watched them from its perch on a table strewn with gardening supplies. A large red barn, its windows and doors open, took up the back of the yard. He could hear a movie playing, its sonorous soundtrack oddly fitting to the moment. He was glad the Sinclairs didn’t live in their old house anymore; he questioned whether he could have handled seeing all the reminders of back then. Irini headed for the barn, but Gev paused. Lee found himself putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Gev turned his head, his eyes surprised. Lee wasn’t sure why he had done that—a moment of brotherly affection? Or guilt and the realization that he truly had not thought of Gev’s needs either? Nina had been a baby, her needs easily met by parents. But who had Gev had? Or what. His dance, he’d said. Escaping into dance. Like Lee had escaped into his music. “Nice addition,” Lee said. “My dad’s getaway.” Everyone had one, it appeared. “A barn?” Lee said as they walked through the grass, still thick and green. “Yeah, he wanted a workshop; Mom wanted a new den. So they got both. It’s pretty nice, actually.” Gev headed toward the barn, Lee following. He was absurdly grateful that the family had moved, that nothing was familiar to him here. He thought about what Gev had said in the car. It shouldn’t surprise him, really, that there had been such tension between Gev and his parents. The way they had lost Stefan, maybe they hadn’t remembered that their middle child, though only ten, was smart and old enough to understand some of what had happened, and that he too had lost terribly. Lee hadn’t seen it himself. “Dad’s aged a lot,” Gev whispered. Lee wasn’t sure of the reason for the warning, but when they entered the workshop and he saw a stooped, bald man with sad, baggy eyes standing next to Irini, his expression grim, Lee was shocked. Gev hadn’t been kidding. His dad had always been fit, strong. Lee remembered how he and Stef had wrestled with him when they were still small enough to be tossed over his shoulder. “Sir,” he said, extending his hand as Gev’s mom stood to the side. He wasn’t sure what to expect. But when Gev’s father first looked shocked—despite the text message from his wife—and then his whole face brightened, Lee felt a slam into his chest that he hadn’t expected. Gev’s dad had aged, and dramatically, but it was still Mr. Sinclair. “Lee.” He grabbed Lee’s hand, looking him up and down and all over.

Long Way Home

75

Lee had definitely not expected to find himself enveloped in a huge hug. “Hey, Mr. Sinclair,” he said as best he could while engulfed. Mr. Sinclair thumped his back. “Frank. We’re all adults here now.” He pulled back, beaming, and grabbed Lee by the upper arms. “Lee Nelson, it’s so good to see you. Where the hell you been?” Lee’s throat clenched, and he had to fight down the spike of anger, remembering how unwanted he’d been by the Sinclairs after Stefan’s disappearance. But Mr. Sinclair seemed genuine, which admittedly confused him. All Lee could do was hug the old man and release him. Gev caught his eye and looked away again, puzzling Lee. “He’s been everywhere, Dad. You know that.” Lee thought he must’ve imagined the flash of pain crossing Gev’s face. “I’ve been traveling, like Gev says.” “You should’ve come by sooner, son.” Frank clasped Lee’s face between his hands as Nina came in, sans her kid. “I’ve been following your music for years.” “You have?” Gev said, clearly shocked. Lee felt a little uncomfortable, given Gev’s reaction. He wondered how Gev felt about this, especially after all he’d told Lee. “Of course I have. I’m proud of you,” Frank said to Lee. “I didn’t know you two were in touch.” “We weren’t until yesterday,” Lee said. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Frank pulled him close, hugging him tight again. The old man felt as frail as he looked. Lee’s heart hammered like crazy as he looked over Frank’s shoulder into Gev’s eyes. Lee tried to express through his own that he understood if there was any upset on Gev’s part. He would have to talk to Gev about this later. “Okay, Dad, let him go before you choke him,” Nina said. Irini made an impatient sound. “Enough of this nonsense, Franklin. This isn’t a long-lost reunion. Gev came to tell us something.” Frank released Lee. “He did?” Nina said, “Why don’t we sit down on the couch?” She steered her mom and dad to the couch, then sat on the arm. Gev grabbed a stool and scooted it to Lee. He sat, but Gev stayed standing. “Go on, son,” Frank said. Lee watched his face, saw the concern, the return of the look of a man bracing himself for something horrible. Thank God they had waited until they were here before telling Gev’s parents. Now Lee understood why Gev wanted to do it in person, tell them they’d nearly lost another one of their children. “Okay, well, Lee and I only met again last night. He came to my performance.” “I was given tickets,” Lee said. “I didn’t know Gev was dancing.” “Yeah, and I about fell off the stage when I saw him up there, watching.” “And I about fell out of the box seat.” “You covered well.” “I’m good at faking,” Lee said, his mouth quirking.

76

Carolyn Gray

Gev hesitated. “I…yeah. I finished the performance and sent a note asking him to come meet me backstage. I was pissed off and angry”—he flashed Lee an apologetic look—“and startled and freaked out. They came back—” “They?” Irini said. Lee shifted on the stool. “Nick Kilmain and our bodyguard. They came with me.” “It didn’t take long for us to realize that it was possible, even likely, that we were set up to meet each other.” Silence settled. Finally, Frank said, “Set up? What do you mean?” “We believe whoever sent the tickets wanted us to meet, for a reason.” Gev raised his chin. “It’s possible it’s connected to Stefan.” Irini blanched. She brought a hand to her mouth but didn’t say anything. Frank put an arm around his wife. “Hang on, let the boy finish.” His expression grew even grimmer. “I have a bad feeling about this.” Gev sighed as he ran his hands through his hair again. “We’re not sure if it’s connected to the past, to Stefan, but—” Lee watched Irini; she looked away when their gazes met. “But, yeah, there’s more.” Gev began to pace. He was nervous. Lee sure as hell understood. Nothing like telling your parents, who had already been through hell once, that they might be living it again. “Okay. All was fine after the performance. I went out with the guys and had pancakes. Went back and got my car, went home. My roommate, Chad, wasn’t home yet, so I went to sleep. Woke up the next morning.” He stopped pacing, looking off as if into the distance, probably remembering what he’d been through that morning. Lee couldn’t believe it was only yesterday that they’d met up again; it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. Gev continued. “I woke up, got some milk out of the fridge. Chad came in, and we talked awhile.” He paused, his face taking on a light pink shade. “Chad had brought a friend home. He was still asleep.” Lee watched the parents’ reactions. Both of their faces stilled, but Gev’s dad nodded, encouraging his son. Gev continued, “I decided to go for a jog, but the front door was jammed. So I went out the window. Saw a few people on the street. Ran to the coffee shop so I could pick up some scones for all of us. Saw a few people there.” Those people had cleared Gev. Lee was beyond grateful they had been out there and seen him. “Anyway, I went back home and saw that the door was open a crack.” His voice grew hushed. He wouldn’t look at his parents. “Screech zoomed out, which wasn’t good, but I went in the door.” He stopped, his distress clearly growing. Lee could guess too well what he must’ve seen, the horrific sight he’d witnessed. “I went to Chad’s room with the scones, and…Chad’s friend was dead.” “Oh, my God, no,” his mom said. Lee felt hot and dry, parched. His throat begged for something to chase the horror away. A beer, something. Anything. Hearing Gev retell it was much harder than listening to the cold relay of information the detective had given him. Pain and horror filled Gev’s voice, and Lee wished he could take some of it on himself. But he was helpless.

Long Way Home

77

Gev pushed on, his voice expressionless now. “I went to my room, and Chad was there.” His face crumpled briefly, but he pulled himself up sharply, his shoulders stiff. “He was dead.” “No,” Frank said. Gev couldn’t talk anymore. And to Lee’s relief and surprise and gratification and a thousand other emotions, Frank went to his son and gathered him close. Lee looked over at Irini. She didn’t move to go to Gev. She stayed where she was, fists clutched in her lap, saying something over and over again in Russian, her eyes wide. Nina crouched down beside her. “Mom? Mom?” Lee wished he was anywhere but there. He shouldn’t have come. This had nothing to do with him. He stood. Irini blinked, then looked from Nina up to Lee. The look she gave him—black with cold fury—struck him to the core. He’d thought he could handle this. “This is all your fault! He’s back, and it’s your fault!” she said, her words rising to a shout. Lee stepped back, hitting the stool and knocking it over. Frank whirled around. “Irini! What are you talking about?” Irini stood and took a step toward Lee. “It’s his fault. If he’d stayed away—” Then she crumpled back onto the couch, covering her face with her hands. Lee couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Frank looked at Lee. “She doesn’t mean that. Irini! How can you say such—” “Stefan, my Stefan, damn him! Damn him!” She glared at Lee, fury reddening her face. “Get out. Get out!” Lee said nothing. He stared at them, Nina and her father crouched around Irini, Gev confused and upset, and he felt like nothing but pure hell, as if a thousand rods of hatred heated in the pit of hell’s biggest fire had stabbed him through the heart. This was what he had known. This was what he had feared, what had kept him away from this family, these people, all these years. He knew—he’d always known—that they blamed him for what had happened to Stefan. But to hear it from Irini now, of all times, sickened him like nothing ever had. Gev was frozen in disbelief and horror, his face still red from unshed tears. “I’m leaving now, Gev. I’m sorry.” He turned away and walked out of the workshop. “Wait, don’t go! She didn’t mean that. It’s not your fault.” Lee didn’t stop walking. He didn’t want to go through the house, instead going around, pulling his keys out of his pocket. An icy calm had descended over him now that the truth had been exposed at last. He reached his car and opened the door. Gev had followed him, stood on the lawn. Too close, too close. “It’s the truth, Gev,” Lee said, his voice amazingly calm. “It is my fault. I’ve always known it’s my fault. I’ve always known that they wished with all their hearts it had been me who had been killed and not Stefan.” “Lee,” Gev said. “Don’t. It’s not Dad. Mom just—” “They’re right. It should’ve been me, not Stefan,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “It would’ve been a whole lot better for everyone if it had been me. He had a family who loved him. I didn’t—I don’t. He had a fantastic future ahead of him. All I had was a beat-up guitar and not

78

Carolyn Gray

much talent. I still don’t fucking know—” He shook his head at Gev’s sound of protest. Automatic protest, Lee knew. The kid had worshiped him all these years. Sweet but misguided. Gev raised one hand, palm up. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you to go. Please.” “I’m sorry.” Lee was trying hard not to explode, for Gev’s sake. He couldn’t look Gev in the eye. If he did, he’d lose it for certain, give in to the black maw of anger and depression threatening to consume him. “I’m not going back in there. Please give your dad my regrets. It was good to see him again. And Nina. I—I’m glad you have her. I really felt good about coming here for a minute.” “And you should,” Gev insisted. “I want you here. Fuck!” He ran his hands through his hair and then gripped it tight, a gesture Lee had never seen Stefan use. It was uniquely Gev’s. “It’s not enough. I don’t belong here. It was a mistake. I’ve got to go now.” He slid into the car and started to pull the door closed, but Gev had somehow zoomed around the car and was blocking the door. “But you can’t go.” Lee looked up at Gev, and his expression, the beauty of his face with the afternoon light shining over it, the sparkle to his eyes—it hurt to look at him. “Let me go, Gev.” “This never fails to happen,” Gev said, the sudden harshness to his voice surprising Lee. “Every time something good happens in my life, it always gets twisted back to my fucking brother. He’s dead! He’s dead and gone and—” He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, his breath coming harsh, fast. It took everything Lee had not to get out of the car. But Gev wasn’t done yet. “Every time, everything I do, no matter what it is, she twists it back to Stefan. She’s as bad now as she was back then. It’s always been about Stefan, always will be. You have no idea what it’s like, Lee. You have no fucking idea.” Lee could imagine, though, having seen Irini’s reaction. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah, well. Nothing you can do about it,” Gev said, his voice bitter. Awkward silence fell over them. Lee didn’t have the words to make Gev feel better. He was empty, a hollow husk. Gev thought he was something good, but Lee knew better. He was as bad as Gev’s mother, in his own way. He too couldn’t let Stefan go. “I need to leave.” Gev finally let Lee close the door. Lee started the engine and pulled away, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Gev still standing on the lawn. There wasn’t anything else he could do now but leave Dallas. Never come back. Without another look at Gev or his family’s home, Lee headed down the street and left their lives forever. He only wished he could leave the rest of his past so easily. Gev watched as Lee drove away—and with him, any hope that things could be somewhat normal again. He couldn’t believe this had happened. Clapping his hands to his head, he stared at the asphalt beneath his feet, seething and sick as hell that it had all ended like this. He’d had no fucking idea his mother would go crazy like that. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” he said, dropping his hands to his side. “Uncle Gev? What’s wrong?”

Long Way Home

79

Fuck! He turned to see his nephew standing on the front porch and thought about lying, but being as the kid was almost the exact same age Gev had been when Stefan died, he wasn’t about to perpetuate the dishonesty that plagued his family. “Lee left, kiddo. Grandma got upset.” Colby appraised him for a moment. “About Uncle Stefan?” Gev joined his nephew and placed an arm around the kid’s shoulder. “Yeah, afraid so. We had to bring her some news she didn’t really want to hear.” They walked back inside the house together. Gev was grateful Colby’s intervention had forestalled the course of action he really wanted to take—confronting his mother in a screaming match, hitting a few walls. He still intended to. At least the confronting part. “Mom told me about Uncle Stefan. How he probably died. That Mr. Nelson was there too, and they were only kids.” “That’s right—they were only kids. Just kids.” Colby hesitated as they reached the door. “Are you leaving too?” Gev paused. “I don’t think so. I’ve got nowhere else to go tonight.” “What about your house? Is Chad sick too?” Gev sighed, wishing Nina had told him this too. “That’s what I needed to tell Grandma. Chad’s gone.” “Dead?” Colby looked up at him, and Gev hoped Nina wouldn’t wring his neck for telling the kid. But he was staying here while his sisters were sick and deserved not to be kept in the dark, at least not completely. “Yeah. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Like Gev’s bed. Colby nodded. “Oh. That’s sad. Are they investigating? Like on Dexter?” “Yup, they sure are. Just got back from the police station, gave an interview and everything.” There was no sign of the others. He hoped they’d stay out awhile longer. He didn’t want to see his mother yet. He didn’t trust himself to keep cool, though his temperature was coming down. A bit. “Cool! Did they fingerprint you? Take your picture? Did you see the prison?” Gev steered him toward the kitchen. He was damn hungry. Maybe there were cookies left. “No, to all of those. I’m not a suspect, you know.” “That’s good. So Grandma should be happy.” “Yeah, she should, kid. She should. It’s just that—” “It reminds her of Uncle Stefan.” Gev ruffled his nephew’s hair. “You are wise, Obi-Wan.” “What’s that from?” He stared at Colby. “Maybe not so wise.” But Colby burst into a betraying grin. “Smarty.” “Mom calls me worse.” “Wait until you’re older.” “She says I’m too old already.” “Know something, kid?”

80

Carolyn Gray

“What?” “You’re one amazingly wise kid. A little wise man.” Colby wrinkled his face. “You’re weird, Uncle Gev.” “Yeah, I know.” He pulled open the refrigerator and took out some deli ham and mustard. White bread would have to do; right now, he didn’t care. “Want a sandwich?” “Nah, I ate already.” “Cookie sandwich?” Colby wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting. Mustard and chocolate? Sick.” Gev started building his sandwich. Colby had some cars on the table, which he began to run up and down, as far as his arm would reach. “Grandma will get you for that.” Colby smiled, impishness at its best. “But she’s not in here.” Gev felt like hugging the kid. “True,” he said as he completed his sandwich. He pulled out a chair at the end of the table and took a bite. To his surprise, it didn’t taste like sawdust. Gev watched Colby play for a moment, then finished his sandwich, got up, and put everything back in place. The others still hadn’t come inside, so now that he was calm enough, he decided he might as well go back out there and see what the hell was going on. “Okay, kid, I’m going to go talk to your mom.” Colby rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, ‘stay put; don’t leave the house; don’t come out there,’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.” Definitely too damn smart. Gev ruffled the kid’s hair and left him to his cars. Walking out the back door, he felt, unfortunately, a return to the anger he’d had when Lee walked out, but it lacked the edge it had had then. He reached the workroom door as Nina, grimfaced, came out. “Might want to wait to go in there,” she said. “Why—” His dad’s voice called out. “No, Gev, come in.” He looked down at Nina. “Kid’s in the kitchen.” “You okay?” “No. Not at all. Lee’s left.” She huffed, casting an angry look back inside. “I’m really sorry. For once—” He touched her shoulder, then bent and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Sis. You know that?” She sank a little, then hugged him. “I know. Just… Tell me what happens.” “I will.” He waited until she was gone before looking inside the workroom. His mother sat on the couch, her face tearstained, hands clasped together. She looked so small, so old, yet she had such power to hurt him. Always had. “Lee left?” his dad asked. “Of course he did,” Gev bit out. “She made it clear that he was unwelcome.”

Long Way Home

81

His father glared at him. Gev knew he should be more respectful, but he was long past that. “I’m tired. Tired and scared half to death. It’s been a fucking long day. You can’t imagine what I’ve seen, how it felt to look into my room and see Chad dead and think maybe that should’ve been me.” His mother tensed. Gev looked at her. “But you would’ve been fine with that, wouldn’t you?” She jerked her head up. His father said, “Gevan! Of course not!” He looked at his dad. “I know you wouldn’t. I know you love me. But I want Mom to answer.” He turned back to her. “I want to know the truth—like Lee wanted, and yet dreaded, the truth. You can’t fucking imagine what he felt like, how you made him feel. So do you wish it had been me too?” He fought the urge to scream, fought for calm. “Do you hate me for still being alive as much as you hate Lee?” She stared at him. “I—I don’t hate you. Why do you think I hate you?” He clenched his fists. “Because you haven’t touched me, hugged me, kissed me, said a damn thing except to tell me how disappointed you are in me, since I was ten years old. Since the day Stefan died. I was ten, Mom. Ten years old! And Lee was only thirteen! Why do you blame him? Why?” He wanted to punch the wall, walk off. But he also wanted to watch her squirm, watch the misery fight with the disbelief, like she hadn’t known what she was doing to him. To them both. He wanted her to be sorry. He wanted his mom back. “Gev,” she wrenched out. “I am alive. I’m flesh and blood and breathing. I take care of myself. I have a great education. I’m talented. I turned down a chance to become principal in Florida to come back here. Did you know that? Of course not. Dad does. He’s seen me dance. So have Nina and her family. But not you.” She looked as if she’d been punched. “What a show you put on for anyone who will listen, but you’re lousy on the follow-through. Why do you ignore me?” “Gev,” his dad said softly. “I want her to answer.” His mother looked up at his dad pleadingly. He looked every bit as old as his wife, which Gev hated, hated so damn much. He didn’t want his dad to get old. “Gevan’s right, Irini.” “But you always said—” Gev cut in. “Dad and I made our peace two years ago. This is about you and me. Why aren’t you proud of me?” The next words wrenched out. “Why do you hate me for being alive?” Her eyes bright with tears, she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” She looked at him. “I don’t know. I know it’s wrong. It’s horrible and selfish, and I don’t know why I said those horrid things to Lee. It hurts. It hurts every day. Every time I look at you, I think of what he could’ve been.” “I know. I feel it every single time you do it.” She closed her eyes, wincing. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard. It seems like it just happened. And that man… Knowing that he’s come back, and now Chad is dead, and it could’ve been…” He wanted to hear it. She had to say it, or he would walk out right now and be done with her. He was tired of trying to please her, to be someone he wasn’t. To be Stefan. He would go back to Florida, or go to New York, somewhere, anywhere, see what else he could do. The

82

Carolyn Gray

competition was fierce, but he would work hard. He knew he was talented—gifted, even. He didn’t need this. Say it, Mom. “I—I couldn’t have withstood it if you had died.” Her words came woodenly. Obediently. And that almost freaked him out more than had she said nothing at all. He closed his eyes, his throat tightening as he struggled for control. Finally he opened his eyes. His mother stared at her hands. He couldn’t say anything, he hurt so bad inside. He’d always hurt so bad. “Y-your father, he wants me to go to counseling. I’ve told him I would. I told him I would apologize to Lee, if he’ll give me the chance.” Gev wasn’t sure what to say. Anger roiled together with disbelief. He didn’t trust her, he realized. “I don’t know if he’ll listen. I am not even sure how I feel about all this.” He turned away. He couldn’t look at her anymore. He needed to get out of that room. Neither of them stopped him. Around the side of the house, he stood for a long moment, staring down the street, the way Lee had gone. He didn’t know where Lee was staying or if he would even talk to Gev. He pulled his cell phone out and scrolled through it to find Lee’s number. He stared at it for a long moment, clutching the phone tight in his hand. He felt like hurling it across the street. He should never have brought Lee here. He should’ve gone in by himself, told them what was going on by himse— “Gev?” Gev turned to find his sister behind him, watching him. “Hey.” “You okay?” He looked down the street again, as if he could possibly will that long-gone car to turn around and come back. It’d been a hell of a day. He wanted to get drunk and sleep for a week. “I don’t know.” He sensed her come up behind him. She leaned her chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. You really like him, don’t you?” The hard truth punched Gev in the stomach. “He’s straight, Nina.” She chuckled, then turned him around and hugged him. She released him after a moment. “I’m not too sure about that.” Gev stared at her, confused. Denial followed the quick flip of his heart; there was no way Lee wasn’t straight. Was there? “Why do you say that?” Then she too looked down the street before turning back to him. “I don’t know. Just this weird feeling. Or maybe he is straight. But that doesn’t matter—he’s attracted to you.” Gev was incredulous. “No way. Why would he be?” “You really don’t realize how hot you are, do you?” His face heated. “Cut it out. I’m serious. The guy’s not going to be—” He stopped at her curious expression. “What?” “Did you know our dear, departed brother was gay too? Exactly like you.” “But—How do you know that?” “How? By looking at pictures of him, reading his journal.”

Long Way Home

83

“What journal?” Stef had had a journal? “How do you know he had one?” “I’m snoopy; that’s how. It’s in Mom’s dresser, bottom drawer. I found it one day when they were on vacation.” Gev headed for the porch steps and sat. He didn’t want to go inside. He reached up and pulled Nina down to join him. “That’s… What did it say?” “I didn’t get to read much of it, but it seemed it was mostly kid stuff, really, at first. Lots about Lee and the things they did. There was a lot in there about one of his teachers he liked a lot. Did you know a Mr. Karsonov in school?” “No, Stef went to a different school, remember?” “Oh yeah. It was a long time ago anyway. I read the last part, though. I often wondered what Mom must’ve thought, reading those parts.” His imagination went flying into areas and thoughts and even hopes that he dared not voice. He waited, his breath tight, his hands curled into fists. He couldn’t look at her. “What do you mean?” “Our big brother liked to write,” she said, her voice lowered. “He was pretty descriptive, especially about when he and Lee were… Well, let’s just say, they liked to mess around in Stefan’s closet.” It took him a moment, even given his mind had already torn right to where she was headed with this. “You mean they—” “Yeah. Stefan was quite enamored of Lee. And I think it was mutual.” Gev stared at the sidewalk, a myriad of thoughts racing through him. “They were only thirteen,” he said. “And how old were you when you knew you were gay?” He barked out a laugh. “I always knew. Since I was nine? Ten? I don’t know. I just—” He hesitated. “I was too afraid to say anything. And I didn’t have anyone to tell.” “I knew.” “You were just a kid!” She flicked her hand. “Whatever. You figured it out when Stefan was still alive?” He hesitated, confused for a moment. Had he? “I—I don’t know, really. And it wasn’t anything I understood what to do with. I didn’t know they were, though. There was no way to tell.” He ran his hands through his hair, gripping it hard, welcoming the pain. “Fuck, I just knew how much I loved being with them.” “With Lee.” He was miserable. “This is seriously fucked up. There’s no reason to believe he’s gay, even if he experimented with Stefan. Why would he keep it hidden? He works for the gayest man in the entertainment industry.” “I know. That’s what I can’t figure out. It was an experimental stage he went through, probably. Maybe.” “Maybe,” he said with a grimace. He slapped his hands to his thighs. “Like it matters now. He’s gone.” “You should call him. I saw you snarling at your phone.” “I wasn’t—”

84

Carolyn Gray

“Yeah, you were. You have his number, right?” “He would probably rather not hear from me,” he said. “I doubt that,” she said, bumping him with her shoulder. “At least you can call and make sure he’s okay. Then you can tell me everything that Mom said. She told me that she wants to apologize to Lee.” “Do you believe that?” She appraised him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to.” “Me too,” he admitted. “There’s something else interesting in there.” “What?” He wanted to see this journal for himself now. “Stefan was mad at her a lot. I don’t think he got along with her as well as we all think.” That surprised him. “What does it say?” “I don’t know, not anything specific. Just… You should see it yourself.” “Yeah. I’d like that.” “I’ll get it for you.” She stood. “Call Lee, baby brother, and then come inside and get some sleep. You need it.” “I’m not your baby brother.” Though she had always seemed older than him, he had to admit. “Not technically. But I love you, you know. I gotta watch out for you.” Then she turned and left. Gev took his phone back out and stared at it. He was still torn, very torn. Maybe she was right and he should call, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle hearing Lee’s voice right then. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. He had it bad, really bad, he realized. And for a straight man. Or a probably straight man. Maybe he was bi? That made sense to Gev. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He would give it a little while, then call. At least let the man make it back to his hotel room first. He only hoped Lee would answer.

**** “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t figure out where you’d gone to, did you, Robert?” Panic clutched at him, but too many years of desperate practice kept him from saying what he wanted to. “I didn’t hide it from you.” “No,” the older man said, his boots scraping across the wooden floor until he stood next to the man calling himself Robert. “But you didn’t tell me, either.” He picked up a pencil and twirled it in his fingers. Robert tried for nonchalance, tried to figure out if making a mad dash through the store to his rental would work. Clarke was in his late fifties now, but he was still in good shape. He would catch him. “Why are you here, kid?” Clarke drew closer, his eyes narrowed. “Thought you’d pay a visit to the old town without me?” “I don’t—No. What did you do?”

Long Way Home

85

Clarke dipped his head down and whispered, “You didn’t answer my question. Not that I need you to tell me.” He pulled out a piece of paper, showing it to Robert. “Tickets?” Ice plunged through him as he looked at the paper, sick over what he had done. He should never have come here. “What did you do?” he asked again, the slow build of horror curling in his stomach. Clarke bared even white teeth. He wrapped one arm around the younger man. “Don’t worry, son. I took care of your little bit of fun.” “What did you do?” Robert ground out, pulling back. Clarke shoved him against the counter. “What I always said I would do.” A man and woman looked at them, their expressions concerned. “Hey, now, not in here,” the man said. Clarke snorted but let him go, then strolled casually over to a bin of rubber balls and toyed with one. “You all right?” the woman said to Robert. He looked at Clarke and back to the lady. “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.” He was anything but. When he looked back again, Clarke was gone. He rushed toward the front of the store, turning around, looking frantically for a newspaper. Surely they had them here. They had everything else a person didn’t need. He went up one aisle and down another, nearly running into some of the patrons. A portly man with a red apron and cowboy hat stopped him. “Whoa, there. Can I help you?” “Yes.” He looked out at the street. Where had Clarke gone? What had he done? “Do you have a newspaper?” “Fort Worth?” “No, Dallas,” he said, following the shopkeeper as he waddled slowly back behind the counter. “Sure, son. Here you go.” The son made him pause, but he took the paper and shoved five bucks across the counter. He scanned the front page, but there was nothing. He tore through the rest, ignoring the man’s stare, searching for their names, begging silently he wouldn’t find them. Then he stopped. “You all right? Look like you’ve seen something mighty bad.” The paper dropped from his fingers.

86

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Eleven Rarely did Lee not have a plan, an idea what to do, a schedule to follow, or at least a vague notion of where he would like to go next. He led a nomad’s life, true, but it was an organized one, with decisions usually made well in advance as to what he would be doing any given week, any given day. After his decision not to leave with Nick and Mutt, he’d mentally blocked out the next two weeks as time to explore Dallas, drive over to Fort Worth, maybe even hit I-35 and drive to Austin, stopping at any of the dozen or so (it seemed) Starbucks that emphatically urged travelers to drive in and refuel, even though the previous Starbucks had been only a few miles back. The first time he and the others had gone to Germany—the first foreign country he’d ever been in—he’d been amused by Nick’s horror that the opportunity to zoom off the motorway, grab a fresh latte, and zoom back on was nonexistent. Had to plan ahead—which, of course, Lee had done, saving them all by producing thermoses to assuage Nick’s never-ending need for caffeine while they were on the road. Those were the good days. Good memories. A different life. As he drove aimlessly along the highway in Dallas, heading for he didn’t know where, because he didn’t have a plan, he tried his best to think of other thoughts, planning thoughts, trying to force his mind away from the hellish scene he’d left and figure out what the hell he was going to do now. It wasn’t working. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, how Gev’s mom had looked, so angry and bewildered as she stormed at him. He’d always known they blamed him for Stefan’s disappearance, always wished it had been him who disappeared, was never found. But hearing it, seeing it in her eyes… He took a random exit—why not?—and kept an eye out for someplace to get coffee. It didn’t take long; another Starbucks sign rose above its tree-shrouded brethren on the horizon. It was getting dark on the longest day he’d had in a while. His mind was numb, his fingers itching to grab his phone, call Gev, tell him… Tell him what? Lee grimaced. There wasn’t anything left to say, yet there was everything to say. The urge to apologize to Gev wouldn’t leave, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. The hollowness that unsurety left confused the hell out of him. His cell phone rang. Grabbing it as he flicked his turn signal, he looked at the display. The number was unfamiliar. He flipped the phone open. “Lee Nelson.” Silence for a moment, then in a rush he couldn’t break through: “Lee? Hey! It’s Nick! About time you answered your phone. I’ve been trying to call you all day long. How’s it going?” Lee tensed. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, not even Nick. “What phone are you calling from?” “Tommy’s. Got a new one. You okay?” “Fine.”

Long Way Home

87

Lee heard a huff. “Right. You don’t sound it. That detective called up here tonight, asked me and Brandon a lot of questions about you.” The twist in Lee’s gut, the heat at the back of his neck, annoyed him. He wasn’t normally so easily bothered by things. “What did he say?” He heard a muffled voice. “I’m not going to!” More mumbling. “I know what he said, but this is Lee! You think I’m not gonna—” “Nick,” Lee said, pulling into the Starbucks parking lot. He threw the car into Park and sat back. “If the detective told you not to say anything, then don’t.” “But he asked about your shoes! Why would he ask about those?” Lee hesitated. “My shoes were taken from my hotel room, remember?” What the hell was going on? “Did he say why he was asking you about them?” “He wouldn’t tell me. I told him they were stolen and that we reported it to the hotel. He said okay, thanks, and hung up.” The shoes that had been taken weren’t anything remarkable. He didn’t like this, but he wasn’t going to wait and see what happened, either. “You okay?” Nick asked. “I think you should come home.” “Surely you aren’t missing having a third wheel in the house.” Nick snorted. “The fourth and fifth are here anyway. Let me get Marisa to buy a ticket for you. Or charter a plane. Come home tomorrow.” The idea was tempting. He knew that as much as he wanted to leave, he shouldn’t. Maybe even couldn’t. He didn’t tell Nick that, though. The disappearance of his shoes, the detective wanting to know about them—Lee couldn’t remember if he’d even mentioned the theft to the detective. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. That made him uncomfortable. “All right. Fine. Thanks.” “Good. How’s Gev?” Lee pulled the phone away for a moment, then tucked it under his neck. “Call him yourself.” He immediately regretted that when Nick took an audible breath. “He’s fine, but I’m not…” He couldn’t deal with this right now. “I’ve got to go, Nick. Talk to you later.” He snapped the phone shut and turned it off before Nick could get started with twenty more questions. Knowing Nick, though, he was calling Gev right now, on the pretext that Lee had told him to. Which was the last thing Lee wanted him to do. He didn’t care. He really didn’t. Then why did it hurt so damn much? Lee shoved the phone back into his pocket.

**** There’d been no answer. No doubt Lee had turned his cell off. Later, as he sat with his nephew, watching some television show after his sister had left to take care of the other two kidlets, he had a hard time focusing on the storyline. He kept thinking about Lee. “What is this crap, anyway?” Gev asked Colby. Said kid looked at him sideways. “It’s Family Guy.” Gev kept from grinning, barely. “She lets you watch that?” “Sure! She watches it all the time too. She loves Stewie.”

88

Carolyn Gray

“Does she.” It wasn’t really a question. Gev raised one eyebrow at Colby. Colby held his gaze but could only do so for a second before his shoulders sagged. “No.” Gev reached out and messed up Colby’s hair. “You almost had me. But you forget, I know your mom, and I know for a fact she’s no fun.” Colby’s eyes brightened. “You’ll let me watch, then?” Gev opened his mouth to say yes, but the thought of Nina coming down on him made him wary. “Tell the truth? I’m scared of your mom. She’d kill me.” “I’m scared too,” his nephew said with such solemnity that Gev had to laugh. “Come here, kid.” Colby bolted from the floor, jumped onto the couch, and snuggled against him. “How about Avatar instead? Still fun and less likely to tempt you to make loud farts in your mom’s presence.” “Or the girls’.” “It’s tough, huh? Surrounded by women.” Colby looked up at him. “You have no idea.” He grinned. “That’s why it would be so funny.” “Don’t go getting any ideas.” “I won’t. I don’t want Mom to kill you.” He wrapped his thin arms around Gev. “I don’t want anyone to, Uncle Gev.” Innocent words with the power to flatten him. He rubbed Colby’s shoulder, hating that the little guy had such fears. “I won’t let anyone, buddy. I promise.” Colby fell silent then except for one small sniffle. Shit. Knowing he would regret it, Gev changed the channel back to the one the kid had wanted. “If you tell your mom, I’ll tell her you want to take tuba lessons.” “I won’t,” Colby replied, his voice soft. As the show came on, Gev let his head fall back, his eyes glaze over. Even dancing two shows on the same day of travel didn’t exhaust him as much as he was now. His mom peered into the room; he granted her a small smile, but she pulled away again. Fuck, he hated this. This entire horrid day. And yet, he was the one still alive, wasn’t he? Chad, dead. Curtis, dead. He’d seen Lee again, been with him—something he’d always wanted to happen, never thought would—and now, he was gone too. Alive, but dead to Gev. Despite what Nina had told him, there was no doubt in his mind that Lee had no intention of seeing Gev and especially his family ever again. Fuck. He closed his eyes, willing the tension in his body to leave. It was nearly ten o’clock, and Colby yawned, but a quick look showed he was watching the inane nonsense on the screen in complete rapture, giggling at the funny stuff. Gev tried to watch too, but it was impossible. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, lulled by the little boy’s warmth—why were kids always such little ovens? He needed to call Lee. But it didn’t look like it would happen tonight. Maybe just as well. Gev gave up. Maybe he’d try tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, after the nightmarish day had settled back a little. He worried briefly he wouldn’t be able to sleep, that the image of

Long Way Home

89

Chad in the bed, dead, would be plastered on the backs of his eyelids, but it was too much, had just been too much. His last thought was for his brother and the journal Nina had told him about. Stefan and Lee. Just kids, too young to really love someone, everyone would say, but that wasn’t true. He knew—he’d been in love with Lee since he was ten.

90

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Twelve Things didn’t look better to Lee the next day. As he got ready to leave Dallas for what he was determined would be the last time ever—though he knew convincing Nick not to return to Dallas would be impossible—Lee felt a pang of regret. He couldn’t get Gev’s expression out of his mind, hard as he tried. He slammed his suitcase shut, then grabbed his phone. He paused, focused on it for a moment, his thumb caressing the top. Perhaps he should call Gev, see if he was all right. Tell him— Tell him what? Nothing he could tell Gev would reassure him, because those were words he simply didn’t have in him. Stefan was dead; everyone blamed him. Two cold, implacable facts that were indisputable. Gev’s roommate and his unlucky lover were dead too. Gev could’ve been, and the story would be over. The story was over now, and Lee knew it would be best for everyone if he left Dallas, went back to Colorado, got back to his friends, where no one expected him to say much. As he grabbed the suitcase handle, he checked his cell. A voice mail. Hadn’t heard the phone ring. He flipped the phone open as he left the room, not really surprised it was from Nick. The corner of his mouth dared to quirk as he traversed the orange and brown carpet to the elevator. He snapped the phone shut midmessage. Nick had already begged him to come home, and that was exactly what he was doing. He slid the phone into his pocket and punched the Down button for the elevator—which popped open immediately. He took a step back in surprise as a woman he hadn’t seen in years stepped off. “Lee Nelson. Trying to make a quick getaway?” Lee gulped. “Sergeant Ramirez.” “That’s Detective Ramirez.” He schooled his expression fast, but his heart raced as she poked him in the chest, her dark eyes narrowed. He’d forgotten what Nick had told him about the phone call until the moment she’d shown up. He took a deep breath. He was shaky, and she obviously saw it. She cocked an eyebrow at him before releasing his gaze. “You’re tense, Nelson. Still make you nervous?” He decided the truth would be in order—and she didn’t, he realized, look ready to slam cuffs around his wrists. He let his breath out. “I’m still a thirteen-year-old boy around you. I’ll always be afraid of you.” She touched his arm. “Good. Have that room key still? I want to talk to you.” “I do, but my plane—”

Long Way Home

91

“Sorry. This will only take a few minutes. I don’t want you to leave at all, frankly.” Her voice was soft, urgent. She tugged on him. “Hotel room.” “Down there, room five-fifty-two.” She set off before him down the hallway. After a second, he grabbed his suitcase handle and followed after her. The momentary panic had dissipated—it was ridiculous to fear she was here to haul him to jail because of Stefan’s disappearance. She stopped at the door, turned, and waited expectantly. He dared a quick smile as he pulled the keycard out of his pocket. She snatched it from his fingers. “This is about Gev, isn’t it?” She looked around the room, the keycard still in her hand. Her dark eyes surveyed the bed, the wall, everything—she was taking her time. She hadn’t changed that way. Really, she hadn’t changed much at all. Older, of course, her dark brown hair pulled into a smooth ponytail. Her gray skirt and jacket were sensible, like a detective would be expected to wear, though her bright fuchsia-green-and-white-striped blouse seemed at odds with the serviceable gray. Her nononsense expression as she at last turned to face him kept his damn heart racing. He wanted to ask, “What’s wrong?” but he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he still felt thirteen around her. “It’s about you, Lee. To be more specific, your shoes.” “My shoes?” An explanation was on the tip of his tongue. But he waited. Never volunteer anything to cops. He’d learned that much from Starsky & Hutch. She grabbed one of the chairs, pointing to the other. “Relax. I’m really not here to throw you under the bus over a pair of shoes. Sit.” He sat, then forced himself to acknowledge she was, of course, correct. He wasn’t a child; she was alone; there weren’t any cuffs dangling from her hand—though he could see she was carrying. Of course. “What’s going on?” he finally asked. “Why do I have to stay?” And in the style he immediately remembered, she didn’t answer his question right away. “Detective Harrison and I spoke at length last night. He caught me up on everything happening. I have to tell you, hearing your name mentioned took me back quite a few years. Are you still blank about what happened to you?” He reminded himself he wasn’t that scared kid anymore, that it was okay for him to answer as he was about to. “I’ve never remembered anything else, no.” She sat back in her chair. “I thought not. Surely you would’ve contacted me if you had remembered something, no matter how small or insignificant.” If only he could tell her something, but his mind truly was a blank void. “I’m sorry, but no.” “I wish you could. I wish, somehow, something had triggered an impression, a moment, something you hadn’t told us before.” How many times had he heard this same thing? He didn’t remember. He would never remember. Frustrated, he stood, walked over to the minifridge, and opened it. “Would you like something to drink? Water?” He grabbed one, his trembling fingers twisting the top off so hard, he nearly dropped the bottle. Fuck. He took a long drink, then looked at the detective, saw her watching him intently. “I’d like something, yes. Sure you don’t mind?”

92

Carolyn Gray

“It’ll only cost ten bucks. I don’t mind.” He handed her a bottle. “Sit down.” He did so, bracing himself for whatever was to come. She took a long sip of her water, then capped the bottle and looked at him. “We’ve found your missing shoes.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Nick said something to that effect. Where?” “Can you tell me again what happened?” He took a deep breath, sought his patience. It wanted very badly to flit away and leave him. He wanted the detective to get on with it, tell him why she was there. But he understood. He remembered well enough, from when this nightmare first started, how she operated. And now that he was older, he could appreciate her methods. Far better than the other detective and his brash pushiness. “It was the night of the ballet.” “Where you saw Gev for the first time in…how long?” Lee remembered that instant of recognition between them, the shock that visibly passed through Gev. And, of course, himself. “Years,” he said, his voice soft. “I hadn’t seen him since…before Stefan disappeared.” “You haven’t been back there since?” “Not until last night. Gev asked me to go with him to tell his parents about Chad and his friend.” The detective pulled out a pen and pad and wrote something. He wanted to ask what but kept quiet. “Okay. I’ll ask about that later.” “Why?” he asked. “I know Gev’s parents. His mother. It had to have been difficult seeing them again.” He took a drink of his water. “It was.” “How was it you and Gev decided to talk? “He sent a note to me to come meet him backstage.” “Nick and his bodyguard went with you.” “They were with me the entire time.” “The entire evening?” “Yes,” he said. “After we talked, we went to IHOP.” “How late did you say?” Lee grimaced. “I already answered these questions twice.” She leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Lee, I understand, and I know what you said. I want to work through in my mind what’s happening here.” “Are you assigned to the case now?” “Detective Harrison has included me in the investigation because of the connection to Stefan’s disappearance. I’ll be your primary connection. So you returned to your hotel. How long before you noticed things had been disturbed?” He took a deep breath. Damn, he was tired. He ran a hand over his forehead, not stalling, just…so much to remember, so much he hadn’t thought he’d need to remember. The hotel room was cold; he was tired; he wanted to go to sleep, get to tomorrow, get back to Durango where he

Long Way Home

93

could forget about everything again. Where no one would ask him questions he didn’t want to answer. But he respected Detective Ramirez. He liked that she had gone to see Gev perform, that she cared enough about Gev to do so. “I noticed within the first few seconds. My suitcase was on the bed. I called for Mutt immediately.” “And that’s when you noticed your shoes were missing?” “Yes. You said they’d been found.” “They were found close to Gev’s house. In the neighbor’s bushes.” It took him a moment to understand what she was saying. “What?” He was incredulous, not wanting to believe what she was saying. “You’ve got to be kidding.” “I’m afraid not.” He stood, overcome with a wave of heat, a sick punch to his gut, that horrible unnamed feeling that comes over a person when frightened. And he realized he was. He didn’t like that one bit. “What the fuck?” He began to pace, running one hand over his face before he turned to the detective. “What the hell is going on here?” “We don’t know. That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” He sat back down, still dumbfounded. He racked his mind, trying to comprehend what could be happening. “I wasn’t there. My shoes—” “Were taken and planted there. Very obviously,” she said. “A poor attempt at setting you up. Lee, don’t worry. We know that you weren’t there, that you weren’t the one who did this.” He snorted, sitting back in his chair. “You seem pretty confident. How do you know? Do you have proof of my innocence?” “You watch too many cop shows. Besides, the hotel clerks and several other witnesses at the hotel where you were staying that night identified you easily. You’ve got fans.” He tried to relax. “I don’t know what to think.” “Someone wants to either connect you or make sure you’re involved.” “Could it be the same person who sent me the tickets?” “Maybe. It is one possibility. And probably the best.” She stood. “I hate to ask you this, but I’d like you to stay under our thumb awhile longer.” “I gathered as much. Why?” “Detective Harrison and I believe Gev is in danger.” “Can’t you assign a bodyguard to him?” “I wish I could, but unfortunately, no. A ballet dancer doesn’t warrant that much attention.” Not like a rock star. Lee sat back. Gev, still in danger. He rubbed his chin. Gev. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Gev being hurt. “I’ll pay for it.” “It may come to that, but Detective Harrison and I agree it would be better if you were around him.”

94

Carolyn Gray

That didn’t make much sense to him, but on the other hand, his betraying heart leaped at the thought of spending more time with Gev. He clamped down on his reaction. “Does Gev know about this?” “Not yet. I understand you want to leave Dallas. It must be painful for you here.” “Everywhere I turn, I see something that reminds me of Stefan. I don’t want to stay here.” “Would you be willing to stay for Gev’s sake?” He hesitated. “I’m not sure he would want to see me again. His family certainly wouldn’t.” The detective stood. “So, you’ll do it?” “Do I have a choice?” “Do you want Gev to stay safe?” He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “Of course I do. But he needs a bodyguard, not a bass player.” “You’re well used to keeping an eye on someone.” “I’m not Nick’s bodyguard.” “Not officially, but I know after what he and his partner went through—” She was right, of course. Despite Mutt’s presence, he never truly stopped watching out for Nick. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Think about it, won’t you?” He stared at his hands, then looked up at her. “When do I have to decide?” “We have a patrol car watching his parents’ house for the night, but I’d rather know now.” He hesitated. “I think Stefan would like seeing you two spend time together, don’t you?” He stared at her, mentally backtracking. Does she know? But no, she couldn’t. That wasn’t what she meant. He fought to recover, find his feet again. “That’s not fair.” “Neither was Chad getting killed, or his friend. I know you miss him. But Gev does too, and except for his sister, he’s pretty much alone here. And now he’s lost Chad.” He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He made for the door, hoping she would follow. “Guess I better see if this room’s available for another night.” “It is. I’ve also already alerted hotel security to monitor this hallway continuously. If someone even comes near this door, security will know.” “Thanks. I guess.” She pulled a small leather case out of her purse, opened it, and handed him a card. “Call me.” He pocketed the card. “What about talking to Gev?” She stepped out of the room, one hand on the door. “I’ll see him in the morning. He needs some sleep. Sorry about the flight.” “No worries. Marisa will have my head again, but I’m used to that. I can call them, right? Tell the boss what’s going on?” “Of course, but we’d rather Nick not come here and try to help.”

Long Way Home

95

So would Lee. “You have him figured out,” he said, holding the door so she could release it. She reached out and squeezed his other hand. “Take care, Lee.” “I'll try. Good night, Detective.” He closed and locked the door, put the flip-lock on, then leaned against the wood, eyes closed. Dallas’s grip was closing firmer around him, squeezing him so tight he felt choked. He wanted out of here. He wanted to get away from this city, the people, the death. The memories, both good and bad. He texted Mutt, asking him to call in the morning. Then he ripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, shucked his jeans, and fell onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling, wanting to clear his mind of everything, but it was impossible. Gev. Stefan. Murder. The tickets, the ballet. Watching Gev dance. If he stayed, he’d get to do so again, he realized. A rush of warmth rippled through him. That would be the one good thing about it, seeing Gev dance again. Stefan would’ve been proud of his little brother, glad that Lee got to see him fulfilling his dreams. As the warmth of the covers, the exhaustion he no longer needed to keep at bay, crept over his body, pulling him down into sleep, Stef’s face twirled in his mind, a hazy blend of blond hair and blue eyes fading away as time often steals away the clarity of memories, so other ones can take their place—that of another, of one alive, very much alive.

**** “Uncle Gev, you gonna get up now? It’s almost lunchtime.” Gev opened one eye to see the face a bare inch from his own. He groaned as his sleepy mind slowly caught up with where he was and—he remembered with a jolt—why. “Fuck.” Colby collapsed into giggles on top of him. “Mom’s gonna yell at you!” Gev growled, pushing thoughts of the previous day from his mind, and grabbed his nephew, making him shriek. “You’re not gonna tell her!” “Yes, I am!” Gev hugged the shrieking boy, nuzzling his neck. Colby was wiry and stronger than he looked. It didn’t take much for him to wiggle free and run shrieking down the hallway, yelling, “Mom, Uncle Gev said a bad word!” at the top of his lungs. Gev held his breath, waiting for his sister to come bop him. It didn’t take long for her to poke her head in. Colby bounced back in and crushed Gev, giggling. She pointed at Gev. “You are going to be the death of me.” Then she pointed at her son. “And you? Get off your uncle and get in the shower. School for you. Your dad will be here in half an hour.” Colby groaned. “Oh, come on, Mom. Do I have to?” Gev growled at him and pushed him out of the way. “You heard your mom. Get going, kid.” Colby slid off the bed. “Will you be here tonight?” Gev ruffled his hair. “Probably. Unless your mom kicks me out.” “Go get into the shower, Colby.” “I want to stay home with Uncle Gev!”

96

Carolyn Gray

“I’ve got to go to work, squirt,” he said, exchanging a look with Nina. “I’ll be here when you get back, though. I promise.” Colby pouted but slunk off. Nina turned her head to make sure, Gev assumed, that Colby wasn’t hanging around for one last try at charming his way out of school. She slid into the room and closed the door behind her. Gev scooted up to lean against the headboard, pulling the covers over himself with one hand as he grabbed his cell phone with the other. “He’s a good kid.” “Yeah, he is,” Nina said, sitting beside him. The bed was old, and her weight made him lean toward her. He scrolled through his messages, a little surprised to see who all had called or texted him about Chad. Word got around fast. Good thing he’d left it on silent. He’d never have slept. He groaned when he saw one from Margot: Got call from cops about Chad. Call me when you can. “What’s wrong?” He quickly texted a message to Margot, letting her know he’d come in later and that he was all right. “The cops called Margot,” he said, guilt flashing through him. “You okay?” “Yeah.” He tried to ignore her doubtful look. “I am.” He set his phone down, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “Thanks, though. How you holding up?” She looked tired—circles under her eyes, hair hurriedly pulled back into a ponytail. “I’m fine too.” She looked at him. “About as fine as you are.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. He touched it with his finger. “Liar.” “Seems to run in families, huh?” She bit her lip, then said, “So, now what?” “Wait, I guess.” “You’ve no idea how long before you can go back home?” He hesitated as images of bloodstained carpet tore through his mind, images of Chad’s body sprawled against the white sheets soaked with blood on Gev’s bed. “I don’t know.” “I’m sorry, baby brother.” “Me too. Chad didn’t deserve that.” “Or the other guy. I hope they find them soon. Mom and Dad are gone, by the way.” “Safe for me to come out?” “Yeah.” “Are there any cops out there still?” “One drove by when the parents left.” “Bet Mom loved that.” “Brings it home to her, I think. Dad told me she’s going to get help. I’m glad.” He got out of the bed, picked up his T-shirt, and pulled it on. “I hope she does. I’ll believe it when I see it, though. Right now, I need to get to work.” “You sure you want to?” He rubbed his bristly chin. “Need to keep my mind off stuff. We’re going on a short tour soon, so I can’t afford to miss. We’ll be gone about a week.” He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like crap, but at least he was alive.

Long Way Home

97

She leaned against the doorjamb, folding her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you leave your keys with me?” He turned on the water, held his fingers in the stream. Didn’t have anything to shave with, he realized, and turned it off. “You don’t need to go in there.” “I’ll be fine. I can pull out your clothes and stuff for you. So you don’t have to go back there at all. Unless you want to.” He leaned in to look at himself in the mirror more closely. “Honestly, I never want to set foot in that house again. But I better take care of it myself.” “If you change your mind, or you freak out, call, okay?” “I will.” She dropped her hands. “Take your shower. I’ll have some coffee ready for you when you get out.” “Thanks. I’d like—” The doorbell rang. They looked at each other. “I’ll get it. Take your shower.” Gev closed the door after her, then stripped off his clothes and stuck his hand under the shower spray. His reflection caught his eye. Dropping his hand, letting the water slide onto the floor (and mentally hearing his mother yelling at him for making a mess), he looked at himself in the mirror. He’d never been a vain person—at least, compared to most of the dancers he knew. He ran one hand down his stomach, down to his cock. He closed his eyes, breathing deep as he grasped himself, stroked his quickly responding shaft. His thoughts immediately went to who they always did whenever he jerked off—Lee. He turned his back to the mirror and leaned against the counter, made his fingers play over his cock and balls, imagining it wasn’t his own hand. What would Lee’s hands feel like? Calloused, strong. Hot. He stroked himself again, his cock hardening, weeping. He bit his lip, tipped his head back, sped up now, Lee’s image bouncing around in his mind, bending Gev over, pounding him from behind. His knees nearly gave out as he came. He bit back a groan as he released, his cock pulsing, onto the bathroom floor. Chest heaving, he reached for a towel, his free hand rubbing his shaft as the aftershocks subsided. He tossed the towel onto the floor and got into the shower. The water cascaded over his heated body. He turned it on hotter, flexing his muscles, arching his back, and turning slowly around so the needlelike jets could pound away his tiredness, his frustration, the horrible images in his head. He stood there until the water started to cool, finally turning it off when he heard someone pounding on the door. What the hell? “Uncle Gev! Mom says get out!” “I’m coming. Tell her to chill.” Colby giggled. “Okay. Oh, Mom says somebody’s here to see you.” He jolted. Lee? “Okay.” “It’s a cop!” “Shit.” “Mom! Uncle Gev said a bad word again!”

98

Carolyn Gray

Gev finished drying off, then pulled on his T-shirt, jeans, and boxers. He’d have to go shopping. Rubbing his hair with a fresh towel, he opened the door, then remembered to clean up his mess. His mom wouldn’t get the chance to yell at him this time. After cleaning up and tossing both towels in the hamper, he ran his fingers through his hair, then headed, reluctantly, down the hall. Entering the living room, he exhaled in relief to see a familiar woman standing at the window, looking outside. “Detective Ramirez, sorry about that.” She turned, smiling at him. “Gev.” She held her hands out. “Sorry to see you under these circumstances.” He took her hands and pulled her into a hug, then released her. “Would you like some coffee?” His sister poked her head in. “All ready.” Colby pushed himself between his mom and the doorjamb. She ruffled his hair. “I’ll take him out of here, let you guys talk.” She looked pointedly at Gev. “Call me after rehearsal?” “Yup. Thanks, Sis.” “Come on, tiger. Let’s go.” “Can we get McDonald’s?” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room. “Sure, why not?” “Yay!” Gev headed for the kitchen, waving the detective to follow him. He grabbed two coffee mugs, filled them, then pulled the half-and-half out of the fridge. “You take sugar, right?” He gestured to one of the stools. “Have a seat.” She did so, taking her mug. He offered her a spoon and sat on the other stool. They were both silent for a moment as they fixed their coffee. He stirred in his cream, trying to relax. She didn’t seem upset. “Anything new? Or did you just want to see me?” She gave him an amused look. “I always like seeing you, Gev. Yes, there is something new.” At his surprise, she said, “No, we don’t know who did it. Chad’s parents are on the way here. They’ll arrive tonight.” He grimaced at that. “I should see them.” “I’ll let you know where they’re staying. Do you have any reason to believe Lee Nelson would want to harm you?” He nearly splurted his coffee out over that. “What? No way. I just saw him for the first time since I was a kid. Why would you think he’d want to kill me?” She laid a hand on his arm. “Easy. I wanted to make sure you don’t have any concerns I should be aware of.” “No. No way.” He ran his hand over his mouth. “You guys don’t think he did, do you?” What the hell? “We found his shoes near the crime scene.” Shocked disbelief raced through him. “No way. Someone put them there. There is no fucking way—” “Easy, Gev!” She leaned closer. “We know. Kilmain’s bodyguard reported them missing to the hotel where they were staying as soon as it was discovered.”

Long Way Home

99

Relief flooded him. “Does Lee know?” “Yes. I’ve talked to him. He’s still in town. I convinced him to stay.” Gev nearly succeeded in schooling his expression. “Oh. Really?” His heart beat wildly. He felt his cheeks heating, hoped the detective didn’t notice. She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, looking at him over the rim, and he knew he was caught. He huffed at her. “Stop that.” She set her cup down and leaned toward him. “Seriously, is there something between y—” “No! No, of course not. He’s not—” He wanted to sink into the floor. “No. In fact, we didn’t part on very good terms.” “What happened?” “I don’t know.” He sat back. “Yes, I do.” He met her eyes. “Mom basically told him that she wished he’d been the one to die.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s unforgivable.” “What I said.” “I always suspected she felt like that.” Gev stood. “Yeah, well, now Lee has no doubt how she feels.” He rubbed one hand over his chin, catching the time on the wall clock. He’d be late if he didn’t hurry. Then he remembered. “Do you know when I can get my car?” She stood. “I’m sure I can get it for you today. Do you have time, or would you prefer a ride to the theater?” “I’d like to get my car. You don’t mind, do you?” “No. I’d like you to come to the station for a minute and look at the videotape.” He frowned. “Videotape?” “We have fairly good footage from the hotel of whoever it was who took Lee’s shoes.” He was surprised at that. “Do you know who it is?” She looked at him, looked away, then turned back before he could question her reaction. “No, just someone in a hoodie. Couldn’t see his face.” “Strange,” he said. Not only the shoes being taken but that look she’d given him. Was it one of his and Chad’s friends? Another dancer she’d seen? He hadn’t thought of that. But why? Was someone jealous he knew Lee and had decided to…what, kill Chad? No way. Nothing made any sense. He rubbed his forehead. “I know.” “You have an idea, don’t you?” he asked. “Maybe, but nothing I can say yet.” “It isn’t one of my friends, is it?” “Probably not, but it could be—” She broke off, stilling her expression. “I want you to take a look at this person in case you see him around.” Smart idea. “Okay, thanks. What else should I do?” “You need to concentrate on living your life and having some fun. We’ll worry about all this mess.” “Does this mean the original case is back open again?” She touched his arm. “Sweetheart, I never closed it.”

100

Carolyn Gray

He let out his breath in a whoosh, grabbing her hand and holding tight. “Thank you.” “I’ll do what I can.” She squeezed his fingers and released him. “I want nothing more than to solve your brother’s case, and now Chad and Curtis’s.” “I know. Thank you.” He took a deep breath, feeling halfway decent for the first time since the nightmare had begun. They left the house together, and he locked the door behind them. Not that locks did much good. He’d never feel safe in any house again.

Long Way Home

101

Chapter Thirteen Gev climbed the stairs to the second-floor practice rooms, his bag slung over his shoulder. He was late but hoped Francesca wouldn’t scold him too badly, all things considered. It’d taken all his courage to ask the principal dancer to work one-on-one with him. She was near retirement now, the oldest of the dancers, and had been with the troupe the longest. Her husband was the lead violinist in the orchestra, and though they’d never had kids of their own, they’d all but adopted more than one dancer over the years. He hadn’t been one of them; he didn’t make it a habit to share the tragic part of his past, though everyone knew anyway. Maybe that was why it’d been hard for him to ask Francesca for help. She’d readily agreed to it, luckily. Had almost acted as if she’d expected him to ask. He hated to think what she would’ve thought had he never done so. Loser him. It had been worth it. Already, after a few short months, he’d come to understand the nuances of partnering in a way he’d long thought beyond his grasp. He pushed open the door. Francesca turned to face him, hands on hips. “You’re late.” He winced. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She glided toward him as he set his bag down on the scarred wooden floor. Sunshine poured into the room through the windows, glowing behind her. He stood, back against the wall; she had such an ethereal presence about her, he could easily cower under a single flashing glare. But the expression on her face was far the opposite of a glare. She raised her hands up to cradle his face as she reached him. Only up close could one tell Francesca was nearing forty. He sagged with relief, and she laughed, the sound light and amused. “Gev, I’m not going to beat you.” Then she surprised him by folding him into a hug. He froze, then wrapped his arms around her, her kindness chasing away the last of his admittedly silly schoolboy worry. He breathed in her scent—earthy, chalky, soapy ballet dancer. Her hold on him tightened, and he found himself returning the intensity, squeezing his eyes shut. All the tension in his body melted as she rubbed his back, and he buried his face in her neck. “Hey,” she said. “You okay? We don’t have to practice today.” He took a shuddering breath as he pulled back. He didn’t release her. Now he was afraid to, afraid she would send him away. “I need to dance.” She touched his face. “I’m so sorry about Chad.” “Me too,” he whispered, his throat tight. She kissed him on the cheek, slid her hands down his arms and to his hands, and squeezed. “Let’s get warmed up, then.”

102

Carolyn Gray

She’d understood, of course. Dance was his sanity, his foundation. He needed both right now while the rest of the world went crazy. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in movement, music, and the union of the dance with Francesca. She released him and busied herself with the music selection. He wiped his eyes, sat on the wooden floor, and pulled on his shoes. Music filled the room—Francesca did love her U2. He was glad she wasn’t a Dream fan. For the next few minutes, they stretched side by side. She’d nearly blasted the music, and he was grateful to give himself up to it. She was starting out differently with him than usual, and he appreciated that. He forced himself to stop thinking about anything but now. He began to break into a series of pirouettes, letting the music move him faster and faster. Francesca joined him as the music drove them both into a wild frenzy. He reached for her. With a mad grin, she grabbed his hands, and they careened into one of the dance numbers they’d been practicing. All thoughts were driven from his head as he let his body take over and the next song began, a slower song. He lost himself completely, moves once so difficult and seemingly out of his reach coming to him easily as he and Francesca moved in tandem to the music. Peace began to flow through him as he lifted Francesca up, the connection between them merging them into one. A thrill soared through him as her eyes sparkled in recognition of that connection. She knew, though he’d never told her, how hard this was for him, that he was not a natural at partnering; he had to work hard at what came easily to so many. To Chad. But whether it was the tiredness, the sorrow rippling through him, or maybe just his finally understanding the secrets of being a great partner, whenever Francesca’s hands reached for his, he found them; when she moved, his body instinctively moved with her. For the first time, he felt that elusive, yet vital, connection just happen. A thrill raced through him. He sensed her trust soar as she folded herself into his arms, her back to his chest, her head against his shoulder, and they danced to the music together as they hadn’t ever before. The music ended; the room fell silent except for the sound of their rapid breaths. He looked down into her eyes as she turned in his arms. She was smiling at him. “Beautiful,” she said. “Perfect, in fact.” She touched his nose. “I should get depressed more often,” he said. “That was amazing.” She pulled away from him. “No, just remember it, pull from deep inside, and use it.” She pushed her fist against her chest. “From in here. You have it in you.” She touched his face, smiling sadly. “Chad was an amazing dancer. He was a brilliant partner. But you’re good, very good. You’ve got something he didn’t have too.” “What’s that?” She placed her hand on his chest. “Heart. Let’s get to work now, all right?”

**** Lee had fully intended to leave. How many times had he attempted to do so now? Three? Four? As he drove aimlessly through the streets of North Dallas, sipping his coffee, he realized he was apparently failing to leave once again. It was almost as if some spirit force was keeping him there, thwarting him at every attempt to go. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. He didn’t want to think too closely as to why—didn’t want to consider it was anything but guilt that kept him, yet again, from heading for the airport. Lee reread the address he’d scribbled down. The fact that he’d already looked up the location of the dance studio was pretty pitiful—and pretty telling, he supposed.

Long Way Home

103

He wanted to see Gev again. He intended to stop for a minute. He had a three o’clock flight to catch. He’d been an ass to Gev. He would apologize and promise to look him up whenever he was in town again. Or tell Gev to do the same whenever he was in Colorado—He jerked his head up. Damn. He’d invited Gev to come to Jonathan’s wedding. Well, that wasn’t going to happen now. Should be around here somewhere… He turned down one street, then another. Not really streets, more like alleyways. Most of the buildings didn’t have signs on them, and of those that did, half were faded, dingy, old. This was a depressed area of the city—aka, cheap. Finally he found the right street and turned up it, going to the very end before he saw the right numbers. He parked the car and got out, looking up at the ballet company’s building. There was a smattering of cars in the parking lot, his Lexus a stark reminder of the world he came from, a world different from the dancers’ except for the lucky few who actually made good money. One of the cars caught his eye—an old Volkswagen Beetle, orange. He’d had a lime green one in high school. He’d loved that car, bought for him by his grandmother. Broken bits of asphalt kicked up beneath his feet; smashed cans and even broken glass littered the uneven ground. The lot needed a new surface, the building itself a paint job. For a moment, he remembered some of the places he, Brandon, and Nick had first played—old garages, basements in a friend’s bar, sometimes on back porches, anywhere they could set up their equipment and work undisturbed for a few hours. It hadn’t mattered to them where they practiced. All that mattered was the music. He hoped it was the same for the dancers who worked here. A kid about sixteen, maybe seventeen, with the unmistakable litheness of a dancer, pushed open the door and trotted lightly down the stairs. Lee stopped him. “I’m looking for Gevan Sinclair.” The boy’s eyes lit up, an a-ha look on his face. “He’s in there, one of the rehearsal rooms. Last one down the hallway.” “Thanks.” ”No problem. See ya,” he said and went on his way. Lee climbed the stairs, looking back at the parking lot as the kid got into the orange Beetle and drove off. Lee closed the door, glad to put a barrier between himself and the outside again. Whoever was behind the murders could be anywhere. Nick had all but threatened to send Mutt down to watch over them and had barely calmed down enough not to make Mutt pack right that second. Lee still figured on Mutt showing up sometime or other. Frankly, it wouldn’t disturb him if he did. His booted feet rang through the empty hallway. Formless music drifted from somewhere. He paused, looking about at the dingy, industrial brown walls, the scuffed-up linoleum that, though clean, was cracked and peeling. Inside the building wasn’t much of an improvement to the outside. Dusty pictures and ballet posters, faded except for the most recent, lined the wall, brightening the place a little, but a flickering light overhead suddenly spluttered and went out. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. He wondered how much it would cost to fix the studio up. Farther down the hallway, he reached an intersection, realizing the music he’d heard had taken on more solid form. It was coming through an open door to his left. The last one, as the kid had said.

104

Carolyn Gray

As he approached, Lee slowed down so his boots wouldn’t make too much noise. A wall lined with a mirror appeared in his vision, and he realized that a couple danced to the music. He stopped where he was, hoping he was out of their line of sight. It was Gev, dressed in tight black pants and a chest-hugging red shirt, with one of the female dancers he thought he recognized from backstage after the performance. She also wore black and red, as if they’d purposely coordinated their outfits. They were locked in a pose, not moving, every muscle straining, the music building in an almost overpowering crescendo led by violins and clarinet. Lee held his breath as they suddenly burst into movement. Fascination mingled with an unexpected desire as the couple turned into a blur of black and red. He couldn’t stop watching, but he pulled back so he wouldn’t be seen. They whirled in and out of his vision via the mirror, the concentration on Gev’s face as he pushed himself through the steps softening into a beautiful smile as his partner whooped at him after a complicated move. They seemed to be having fun. Envy stabbed through Lee as Gev and his partner slowed their movements, Gev pulling her to him, their bodies swaying together for a moment. He murmured something in her ear, and they exchanged a look of intimacy that made Lee’s heart race. A moment later, they had moved on, but the thought wouldn’t leave Lee that she was important to Gev. He hadn’t been wrong about Gev being gay; he knew that. But still, doubt crept in, and then he pulled himself up short. What the fuck? Why do you care? But he did. Fucking hell, he did. He couldn’t take his eyes off Gev, the flurry of arms and legs, bodies pressed tightly together as they moved around the floor. For a moment, he fancied himself dancing with Gev like that, melding against him, feeling the heat and the power beneath his hands. Lee cleared his throat. Gev released his partner and spun into a series of small leaps, which grew into bigger leaps. The woman had stopped dancing and stood watching him, her hands clasped to her chest as she caught her breath. Lee was trying to catch his own. Hunger ripped through him as Gev danced alone. The music swelled and Gev’s movements along with it, his grace and power, so tangible, mere feet from where Lee hid like a schoolboy spying on the girls’ locker room. Fuck, his jeans were tight, his cock hard and aching. An almost unstoppable desire to tear into the room and slam Gev against the wall, take him hard and fast, ripped through him, leaving him reeling. He closed his eyes briefly and took a step back, forcing himself to calm. Or at least tried. But he couldn’t stop watching. Nor, he realized, could he stop wanting. He wanted Gev. This is why you stayed. He’s why you stayed. The music had changed, and Gev slowed, his movements gentle but no less dynamic. The woman had moved over to the wall, hands behind her, one foot braced against it as she watched Gev dance. She looked up and saw Lee. His instinct was to jerk back, but he couldn’t move. She turned her attention back to Gev, ignoring Lee. He hoped she didn’t know who he was. Gev owned the dance floor now, his body moving effortlessly to the music, a creature of perfection as the music filled the room, filled him. Light from the windows played over his body; his skin glistened. This room, at least, wasn’t faded and gray. It was positively dazzling. He was one with the music in a way Lee could only barely understand. Yes, he knew a similar kind of connection, but he was a maker of music, not a transformer of it into a form that

Long Way Home

105

called to him so deeply, a physical language that he as a mere mortal could never hope to achieve. This was who Gevan Sinclair was. Who he had become. He was, as far as Lee could tell, a genius. Raw, untapped, but a genius nonetheless. He was beautiful. Lee’s eyes caught the female dancer’s again. She dipped her head once, acknowledging the recognition of what Lee saw in Gev. As the music came to an end, Lee felt like an interloper, presence accepted or not, and backed away from the room. He would talk to Gev, but later. He clearly had some thinking to do. Finally, when every muscle in Gev’s body hummed with satiation, that delicious ache that came after being well used, Francesca called their practice to a halt. She tossed a towel at him. “You did well,” she said as he ran the towel over his face and hair. “Thank you,” he said, feeling somewhat shy. Which was ridiculous. “Have you ever thought about leaving Dallas? Trying out for another company?” Francesca asked as she started to pack her things. Sitting on the floor beside her, he paused while taking off his dance shoes, then pulled them off and stuffed them into his bag. A better company, he knew she meant. “Sometimes.” All the time. “There are a lot of dancers, though. I’m not sure where I’d want to go, anyway.” “You’re the best dancer here, Gev.” She touched his foot lightly, then hopped to her feet. “This is a small, underfinanced company. You’re not challenged here, not like you should be.” Gev hesitated. “I can’t leave here, not yet.” “Because of your family?” “My sister.” He grabbed his towel and rubbed it over his head. “I promised myself I’d look after her.” Fran eyed him quizzically. “Doesn’t she have a husband to do that?” Mason. He rubbed the towel over his face. “She needs me here,” he said stubbornly. “Does she know you’re sticking around for her?” He wanted to get up and walk out, but his desire not to be rude to Francesca—of all people, never her—kept him put. She cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. “No,” he finally admitted. Francesca’s lips quirked. “You’re very protective of her. That’s understandable. But from what you’ve told me, her husband and the kids sound pretty terrific.” She poked him gently. “Right?” “Okay, I know you’re right. It’s just, without them, I—” He had nothing. He’d been happy here. He really had. But now… “I don’t know what to do.” She leaned forward, her delicate face lit with amusement. “You know what you want to do, I think.”

106

Carolyn Gray

Lee shot to his mind, along with a fierce, almost overpowering need to have the life he’d never thought he would—studying dance with the greatest, building a life with Lee. He didn’t know what to say. “Come home with me for dinner. Jared’s making fish tacos.” He made a face. “There’s something inherently wrong with fish tacos.” “They’re wonderful. He’d love to have someone else to eat his food.” “Okay. I’d like that. I guess.” “Oh, by the way, while you were dancing, some guy—” She stopped as the door opened. “Visitors.” Gev turned, and his heart slammed. Margot, with Chad’s father. “Oh fuck,” he whispered as he stood, dread filling him. “Who is it?” Fran asked. “Chad’s dad.” Margot said something to the silver-haired man next to her, then looked up at Gev as he approached. Guilt slammed through him, coupling with dread at the look on Chad’s father’s face. He faltered. “Francesca, would you excuse us, please?” Margot said. Francesca glided past Gev. “Later, Gev,” she said, her voice unsure. “Six o’clock, okay?” “Thanks.” Margot closed the door behind her. “Gev, this is—” “Hello, Mr. Hill.” Gev put his hand out, but the man didn’t take it. Awkward. He dropped his hand. “I’m so, so—” “I’d like to talk to Gev alone,” Mr. Hill interrupted. Margot’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Of course. Would you like my office?” “No. This is fine. I won’t be long.” Once Margot was gone, Mr. Hill turned back to Gev. The indifferent look fell from his face, hatred and disgust marring his features. Alarm ripped through Gev; instinct kicked in, but not fast enough. The fist came hard and fast toward his face. He tried to duck, but the blow connected well enough. Pain exploded in his head, and he tripped back, shouts and Francesca’s scream barely penetrating the agony as he fell backward, smacking his skull hard on the wooden floor.

**** Not for the first time in his life, Lee wished there was someone he could really talk to. His mind was a jumble; he didn’t know what to think. Not anymore. All his life, he’d carefully hidden who he was so no one could get hurt again because of him. He should leave Dallas behind, get on the next plane and out of here. Gev was better off without him. Gev. Fuck. He checked his watch. If he left right now, he might make it to Love Field, pick up the three o’clock flight, and be back in Durango at a reasonable hour. He could be at Nick and Brandon’s tonight, eating steak, talking about anything but Gevan Sinclair.

Long Way Home

107

But, of course, he didn’t head for the airport. He realized the continual argument he was having with himself about staying or leaving was pretty ridiculous anyway. Instead he found himself aimlessly driving around with no clear destination. His brain finally caught up to where his subconscious was taking him—the one person in the city who he knew could help him sort things out, whether he wanted to do so or not. She would also likely ream him out for not coming by before, but he would take it. She would be right, of course. He needed to talk to someone who wasn’t law enforcement and who didn’t have reason to judge him for his past. And who wasn’t Gev. As he parked the rental car outside Ruby’s house, he tried to push Gev’s image out of his mind. This really wasn’t about Gev or…anything. He wasn’t sure what he would tell Ruby. Could tell her. He wasn’t sure himself what was going on in his head, though he knew his fascination with Gev was growing. “Dammit,” he muttered as thoughts he didn’t want to entertain filtered through his mind. Stefan. Gev. Their parents—Irini’s conviction he knew something he couldn’t remember. Or refused to remember. And Chad and his friend, dead. Hell. The front door to the house opened, and there was Ruby, standing on the porch, waving at him to come inside. She was blocking the entrance, but a furry head poked around her legs—a husky. She’d finally bought one. He was glad to see that; she’d always wanted one. She pushed the dog back, waving at Lee again to come inside. She disappeared inside the house, and he got out of his car and headed dutifully up the sidewalk. He pushed the door open and was greeted by the husky, the biggest one he’d ever seen. The dog whined at him, wagging his tail. Lee rubbed his head, scratching behind his ears. The dog licked his hand and jumped up slightly, but Lee pushed him down with a laugh. “Hey, big fella. Stay down.” The dog trotted off, tail waving. All was quiet except for the clicking of his nails and the sound of a television playing somewhere deep in the recesses of the house. “Close the door, son, before you let out Qannik,” Ruby’s voice called out from…somewhere. “Yes, ma’am.” He did as instructed. “Where are you?” he asked as he walked into the main living area. He looked around; this was the first time he’d been in the new house, and a sense of wonder filled him. It was beautiful, even more beautiful than the pictures he’d seen. Now there was more than dark wooden floors, camel-colored leather furniture, a massive stone fireplace, and wide passageways for Ruby’s sons’ wheelchairs. Now it was a home. The sharp pang of envy smacked him. Everything he’d longed for was here, because of him, but he was as outside of things, as he’d always been. And always would be. Flowers and books and photographs of the family were scattered around. He stepped up to the fireplace and looked at a picture of Derek and Samuel, the oldest boys. Both were smiling, embraced by their mother, who stood behind them. The other photographs were of the girls. There was also one he didn’t expect, the only white face on the mantel. His own. “I cut that out of a magazine,” she said softly. His throat tightened. “It was the only one I could find of you smiling.” He turned, his gaze clouding. He clenched his jaw, forcing the momentary emotion away. “I could’ve sent one to you.” Though he couldn’t think of any offhand that would be better than what she’d found.

108

Carolyn Gray

She came up beside him. “Now why would I want that? This one, this was caught in the moment. It’s you.” “I didn’t know they were taking a picture.” Or he would’ve gone for his usual serious look. She raised one eyebrow at him. “This will do fine.” She touched his face, then pulled him into a hug. He returned it with a fierceness he hadn’t meant to show. After a moment, she pulled back. “What brought you here?” “Can’t I drop by and visit when I’m in town? Just to see you?” She eyed him, then motioned for him to follow her. “You’re never in town, Lee,” she said over her shoulder. “And you weren’t planning on coming by.” He hesitated, grimacing. She was right, and he suddenly felt rotten about it. He should’ve come before. He followed her reluctantly. She was already in the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee. “I know.” “You’re here now, and that’s what matters. I think you’ve a compelling reason too.” She pointed to a stool. “Sit.” He did so. The dog stretched out on the kitchen floor. “Nice husky. You finally got a dog.” “He’s half husky, half malamute. My sons got him for me last Christmas.” She looked at him pointedly. “If you’d been here, you would’ve seen him.” “I…” She always invited him for Christmas. He always found an excuse not to come. He knew she understood—they’d talked about it once, how he didn’t do Christmas. But really, it would’ve been nice. “You’re a man of few words, and I understand that. But tell me what’s wrong, son.” He tensed, then relaxed, reached for a sugar packet, and studied the label without really seeing it. This was what he’d come for, after all, right? “I saw Gev’s parents yesterday.” She’d been about to pour the coffee but stopped. “You did?” She continued what she was doing, but he saw the concern in her eyes. “And how did that go?” “Not very well.” He told her what all had happened, accepting a mug of coffee as he did so. She settled on the stool opposite him and waited patiently, asking no questions. He told her about the ticket, going to the ballet, seeing Gev onstage and recognizing him, meeting him backstage, and what happened to his roommate the next day. About seeing Gev’s parents. And their reaction. She grimaced. “The woman’s been harboring that for a long time. Was this the first time you’ve seen them in…how long?” “Years,” he said. A long time. He glanced at his watch. It was three o’clock. “I missed my flight.” “On purpose,” Ruby said, peering over her mug. It had huskies on it. “If you’re looking for a reason to talk to Gev, to see him…” He put his mug down and pulled back, avoiding her gaze. “I tried.” “Oh?” His face heated as he remembered his reaction, all too positively, to watching Gev dance. “I went by where the ballet company practices before I came here.” She studied his face, her dark eyes suddenly dancing, her mouth twitching. “And?” “I… He was practicing with another dancer.”

Long Way Home

109

She leaned forward. “And you didn’t want to interrupt.” “Uh, something like that.” “Why not? Or wait until he was done dancing?” He felt embarrassment having a field day on his face. Because he was in no state to? He’d forgotten completely what he was there for? He’d been hit by a ton of bricks marked GEV IS HOT, YOU IDIOT and was in full-on freak-out mode? Yeah. “Is he a good dancer?” she asked after a moment. “Incredible. He’s just—” Lee didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t betray the powerful effect Gev had had on him. “I can’t believe how amazing he is. It’s inhuman how high he can leap. And it isn’t just that,” he said, staring unseeingly at his coffee. “The way he moves, so incredibly gifted. I’ve worked with ballet companies before, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Gev’s amazing. Even better than he was the other day in the performance. I wish I’d realized how talented he is.” He brought himself back to Ruby and pressed his lips together. “I don’t understand what he’s doing here. There’re far better places than this.” He took a sip from his mug. “I don’t see how he could be better than he is right now, but if he doesn’t go somewhere where he can study under someone really good, well… I’d hate to see talent like that wasted.” He caught her narrowed gaze and mentally backtracked his enthusiasm. “It would be a shame,” he added lamely. She touched his hand. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so animated.” He looked at her, confused. “What?” “Think about it, all you just said. And how you said it.” Lee fell silent, blanking his mind. Or trying to. Closing his eyes didn’t work either—he saw Gev when he did. Very alive, very real Gev. Gev he wanted. He sat back and looked at his friend, then away again. He felt like a teenager. His face heated—hell, his whole body did. “Uh, yeah.” She laughed. “Does he know you’re gay?” He stared at his almost empty mug. “You know you’re the only one who does.” “But you like him—” “No,” he said, pushing his mug aside and standing. He couldn’t. It was wrong. “I can’t.” “And why not? Tell me. Why not?” He opened his mouth to protest but shut it again. “I need to go.” “This is why you came.” He stared at her. “What do you mean?” “Stef’s gone, honey.” “But Gev’s his brother. That’s—” She came around to him. “That’s life. He doesn’t know you’re still here in Dallas. Am I right? And he didn’t want you to go? That’s what you said.” Lee felt wretched. He didn’t want her to be right—or did he? Stef was dead, Gev alive. The thought of leaving how they’d parted as the last he would ever see of Gev tore him apart. Gev

110

Carolyn Gray

had been so upset, almost begging him to stay. It was just a crush he had on me. Wasn’t it? “No. He didn’t want me to go.” “Isn’t it time you stopped hiding from yourself? You deserve happiness. With someone who loves you.” “Gev is just infatuated.” “Maybe. And what’s wrong with that? Besides, from what you told me, I think he needs you. Whoever killed those poor boys might try again.” “I know.” He feared the same thing. It terrified him, actually. What if something did happen to Gev now, and he hadn’t been there to stop it? “Detective Ramirez asked me to stay.” “So you should. And you’ll bring him for dinner, when you’re ready. The kids would love to see you.” A car alarm went off outside. They looked at each other. “Is that yours?” He pulled out his key fob and hit the alarm button. The beeping stopped. “Guess so. Stupid rental. Where are the kids, anyway?” Not that they were kids anymore. “At school, work.” She looked at the clock. “In fact, I need to go pick up Samuel. You can catch up with them later. Now, get going, you hear? And bring Gev when you want to.” “Ruby—” “I’m just saying, he’s welcome here.” His face was surely bright red. But warmth had settled into his chest. Maybe she was right, that this was what he’d come for. To face himself. He opened the front door, making sure the dog wasn’t anywhere near. He had no wish to chase a husky today. “Thanks, Ruby.” Movement caught his eye. A runner in a hoodie paused at the end of the street, looked at him, panic crossing his face, then bolted around the corner. Ruby followed Lee out onto the porch and stopped. “Did you see that?” Lee asked her. “Maybe he set the alarm off.” Lee stared at the spot where the man had been, then shook off his imaginings and stepped off the curb and around to the driver’s side of the car. “Lee,” Ruby called out. He punched the button to unlock the doors. “Yes?” “Where will you find him?” He opened the door. “I don’t know. I’ll try the dance studio again first, I guess. He might still be there. I have his cell number too.” At her look, he snorted softly. “Yeah. I know. I should’ve talked to him already.” But he hadn’t been ready yet. He was now. At least to tell Gev that he was staying and wanted to be there for him. A lot had changed for him in the past three hours, he realized. “Be careful. I don’t want to be reading about you in the papers next. Not like that.” He didn’t want that either. “I’ll be careful.” “Wait. What’s that?”

Long Way Home

111

Halting his slide into the seat, he straightened and looked over the windshield. Tucked beneath one of the wipers was a piece of folded yellow paper. Dread rocketed through him. Trouble. He didn’t know why, but that was exactly what he thought. He reached around, pulled the paper out, and opened it. The words made his mouth dry. Something bad’s going to happen at the studio. Get him out of there. Please. The please was underlined with thick lines. “What is it?” He yanked out his wallet, raced around the car to Ruby, and stuffed Ramirez’s card into her hand. “Call Detective Ramirez. Tell her something’s going to happen at the dance studio.” He bolted back to the car. “Lee! What are you going to do?” He slammed the door shut and started the car, then took off. He flipped his cell open and scrolled for Gev’s number, cursing the fact that he didn’t have it on speed dial. But why would he? As he tore down the street back toward the dance studio, he tried over and over again to reach Gev. He didn’t answer.

112

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Fourteen Gev tried to blink, but his right eye wouldn’t cooperate. Blood pounded in his face; he’d have one hell of a pretty shiner tomorrow, he imagined. Finally he forced his left eye open. Someone had propped an ice bag against his face, but it had slid down. He put it back, wondering how much time had passed since Chad’s father had tried to bash his head in. The door opened, and Margot’s admin, Doris, walked in, closed the door behind her, and bent down to peer at him. He looked at her with one eye. The good one. “How’s your head feeling, Gev?” “Like it’s been through a rock crusher. How bad is it?” “Can I turn on a light?” “Sure.” He shifted on the couch so he wouldn’t have to look at the light directly. His whole body ached. How could his whole body ache? He pulled the ice bag off and looked up at her. She made a face; clearly he didn’t need to answer her question. “It looks that bad?” “Looks like shit.” Someone else opened the door. Margot. Her eyes crinkled with uncharacteristic worry as she sat on the chair next to the couch, a glass of water in one hand, two Tylenol capsules in the other. “Take these. They’ll help a little.” Gev winced as he sat up. Nausea punched him, and he closed his eyes and lay back again. “Fuck,” he said. “I feel like I might throw up.” “Could he have a concussion?” Doris said. “Maybe.” He heard the rustle of keys. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” “He should’ve gone an hour ago.” “I’m fine,” he protested. He dropped the ice bag and sat up again, more slowly this time. Last thing he wanted was to go to the hospital. “Where’s Fran?” “She left after she was sure you were okay.” “Is Nina on her way?” Doris put the ice bag back on his head. “I still can’t get hold of her. Want me to call your parents?” “No.” No way. “Well, who do you want me to call?” “No one. I’ll sit here awhile longer. I’ll be fine.” He dropped the ice bag again. “What happened to Chad’s dad?” Margot got up, went behind her desk, and shook her computer mouse. “Well, after Jim and Anthony hauled him out of there and pushed him into a closet, I had Doris call Earl. Fortunately, he was down the street hanging out at the coffee shop. Bastard’s sitting in jail by now, I hope.”

Long Way Home

113

“He was upset, Margot. I don’t exactly blame him.” She glared at him. “You realize what he’s done, don’t you? You won’t be up to helping at the dance camp.” “I’ll be fine.” She gave him That Look. “No, you won’t.” She thumped her desk. “Dammit, now I’ll have to—” She glared at him. “Dammit.” “I didn’t get in front of his fist on purpose,” Gev said. Margot sighed. “I know. I might as well tell you. A friend of mine from Miami City Ballet is going to be in Clovis too. I told her about you.” “Told her—” He lifted his head. “Why?” “I want you to audition for her.” Gev’s face pounded. “I can’t leave here, Margot.” She came around and leaned against her desk, arms folded. “I know you say that. And I understand about your family and wanting to be here for them. Are you happy here?” Gev’s whole head pounded now. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “Yes. No.” He thought of Chad’s body. “No.” “You’ll never dance your best here. You’re gifted—very gifted. I don’t believe your family would want to hold you back if they knew you had a chance to achieve greatness.” Greatness? Him? He turned his head to look up at Margot, expecting her usual cynical smirk. But the look on her face was one he’d seen only a few times. He had to admit a thrill ran through him—even with his head pounding, face smarting, heart breaking. “I’m fine.” “Stand up.” “What?” “I said, stand up.” “He needs to go to the hospital,” Doris insisted. “I’m fine.” He started to stand, taking care not to fall over. But a second later, he was slammed back into the couch. Someone shrieked as the building rocked with the force of who knew what. The lights flickered on and off, and his head screamed, but he pushed himself off the couch. No way. No fucking way. The lights went out. “Gev?” “Right here, Doris.” He reached for where’d he last seen her, fumbling for her hand. She grabbed his fingers tight. “Margot?” “At the door.” A light switched on. Flashlight. “What the hell happened?” “I don’t know.” Pulling Doris with him, he followed Margot out of the office. Other dancers had made their way to the hallway too. “Everyone okay?” he asked, hoping he was the only one hurt. His face throbbed; he’d left the ice bag behind. “We’re fine,” Theo, one of the other dancers, said. Several people moved down the hall, clutching each other. “What was that? Any idea?” “I don’t know, but we’d better get out of here.”

114

Carolyn Gray

Fighting dizziness, Gev trailed the others. What the hell was happening? They all moved outside, Margot on the phone, talking to someone he assumed was the police. Doris still had hold of his hand. He pulled his keys from his pocket with his other hand as he let her go. “Where are you going?” she said. “Out of here,” he said. “But you’re hur—” That’s when it happened. The explosion before was nothing next to this one. He felt it first beneath his feet, up through his legs, a vibration that quickly reached its climax. With a deafening roar and a ball of flame, the back of the building exploded. Gev was knocked off his feet, slammed against a car. The parking lot filled with screams. A rain of dust and fiery debris started to fall. Hell had found them. “Run!” someone yelled. A hand grasped his and yanked him forward. He stumbled, losing the person’s grip, but kept moving, ducking as rubble fell from the sky and grit rained over him. A few feet from him, he saw one of the other dancers crying, hysterical. He grabbed her. “I’ve got you!” She sobbed against him, frozen to the spot; he picked her up, dizziness be damned, and moved the hell out of there. Another explosion, smaller than the first, nearly knocked him off his feet again. He followed two others around behind a building. Hands pulled the woman from his arms. “I’ve got her, Gev.” People were shouting. Margot was yelling into her phone. Calls of “Over here!” and “Get out of there!” filled the air. And the crying… Gev stared around him, dazed. There’d been about twenty dancers and staff in the building when he’d gone in to work with Francesca. There weren’t twenty here. He took a step back, looking from dirty, tearstained face to face, horror filling him as the inescapable conclusion about what had happened filled him. This was his fault. His fault. “I’ve got to go,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Anthony had taken off his shirt and turned it inside out to wrap it tightly around Elizabeth’s arm where blood poured down. Gev took a step back. This was his fault. “I’m sorry,” he said, edging away. He couldn’t look at them. His face ached, but the pain in his heart was far, far worse. He knew deep down, whoever had killed Chad had done this too. “Gev? Where are you going?” He escaped around the building, staring at what was left of the dance studio. It was destroyed, the back half caved in. Rubble had cascaded over all the cars, breaking windshields, denting hoods, and worse. Angry black smoke roiled into the sky. A fire engine—no, two— roared past him, along with police cars, ambulance… He turned around and began to walk down the street, his stomach churning, dizziness playing havoc with the placement of his feet. He moved as fast as he could, putting distance between himself and the hell behind him.

Long Way Home

115

“Dammit, Gev, answer your phone.” Lee slammed his cell down on the seat next to him. Where the hell was Gev? Lee ran a hand over his head, furious with himself for not being there. What a chickenshit he’d been, running off like a little kid to his mommy because he was scared. And scared of what? Gev, of course. Lee checked himself in the mirror. He looked like crap. Exhausted, anxious, depressed as hell. Worried to death. “I care, all right, dammit? Happy?” he said to his reflection. He grabbed the cell again, hit redial, and waited. Nothing but endless ringing. This time he waited for the voice mail. Gev’s voice filled his ear. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let his thoughts go there. Gev would be okay. He turned the car around a corner as the beep sounded. He nearly screeched to a stop right there in the middle of the street as he stared, dumbfounded, at the column of smoke choking the sky. The note—the person who’d written it—was right. They had known this was going to happen. Known the building was going to blow up, known he would be too late to stop— Then he saw a figure walking down the side of the road toward him, cars zooming past too damn close. “Gev, why the hell are you walking down the street?” he said into the phone and snapped it shut. He drove up to Gev and stopped the car. Gev looked up, wavered when he saw it was Lee, put a hand out to steady himself, and started to stumble. Realization kicked in—fucking hell, he’d been hurt—and Lee bolted out of the car and grabbed him. Gev clutched his arms, fingernails digging into him, but Lee didn’t care. Gev was alive. He took Gev’s face between his hands, brushing his hair back. “Gev, Gev,” he said over and over as he took in the black eye, the dust on his clothes, the fear rippling through him. Gev started to pull away, but something in Lee’s voice made him stop. “Lee?” “You’re really okay,” Lee said, and then a rush of relief ripped through him. Their gazes locked, Gev’s eyes widened, and Lee bent down and kissed him. It was instinct. There was no other reasonable course to take. He didn’t give a damn that they were standing on a busy street, in broad daylight, or that this area of Dallas wasn’t exactly the gayborhood. Their lips met, and a whimper—of relief or what, Lee didn’t know or care—escaped from Gev. Lee broke away, then pulled Gev against him. Gev held on tight, fingers digging into Lee’s back—a welcome pain, nothing compared to what Gev was dealing with. He didn’t sob, didn’t cry—Gev wasn’t the type—but he held on, clutching Lee like he was his lifeline. “I’m so sorry,” Lee said, stroking his back. Gev melted into him, his body shaking. Lee’s was too. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been there for you.” He breathed in Gev’s scent—sweat and dust—ignoring the cars whisking by, yet grateful no one honked, no one jeered. Or worse. “Gev.” Their bodies fit perfectly together. “It’s not your fault.” Lee pulled back. “I could’ve stopped it.” “I always knew you were Superman.” “I try. Sometimes I don’t do so good of a job.” “We’d better get out of here,” Gev said. He pulled away, wavering unsteadily. Lee didn’t want to let him go but knew Gev was right. “Easy. Sit down.”

116

Carolyn Gray

“I’m all right,” Gev protested but didn’t fight as Lee eased him down onto the curb. “Like hell you are.” Lee reached out and pushed Gev’s head up, examining his face. “I need to get you to a hospital.” Gev closed his eyes. At that moment, the wail of a siren sounded. They turned to look in the direction Gev had come. A fire truck tore around the corner, followed by an ambulance. “Oh, God,” Gev whispered. Lee crouched down in front of him. “It’s all my fault.” “What happened?” Gev laughed softly. “Someone blew up the building. Can you believe that? Just like the fucking movies. I don’t know if anyone’s hurt. Or dead.” He pressed his lips together. “No, I know they’re hurt. I saw them. Elizabeth’s arm. Doris… Oh, God.” “Let’s get you out of here. You can tell me what happened.” “Someone wants me dead. Why the fuck do they want me dead? What the hell did I do?” “I don’t know that you did anything.” Lee pulled Gev to his feet. “Can you walk to the car?” “Going to carry me?” “If I have to.” “No. I can make it that far, I think.” Lee walked beside him anyway. He pulled the note out of his pocket and handed it to Gev as he opened the car door. Gev sat down. “What is this?” he said, looking up at Lee. “Hold on.” Lee shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. Once the doors were locked, he said, “Some guy in a gray hoodie left it on my car.” Gev stared at him, incredulous. “A hoodie. Crap.” “I know.” “Same guy?” Lee hesitated. “Not sure. I don’t know.” “What are we going to do?” “Take it to Detective Ramirez. I was at Ruby’s. No one knows about Ruby. I thought. They set off the car alarm; we went outside and saw a guy at the end of the street. He’d been running. He stopped and turned and looked at me before he took off.” “Did you recognize him?” A small punch in Lee’s stomach made him hesitate. “No, I don’t think so.” Gev winced and touched his eye. “Fuck, this hurts.” Lee reached out and turned Gev’s face to see the damage better. He looked like hell. “Did a rock hit you?” “A fist, actually.” “Whose?” “Would you believe Chad’s dad? I think it made him feel better. Knocked me out for a while.” “Is that why I couldn’t get hold of you?”

Long Way Home

117

Gev closed his eyes and leaned into Lee’s touch. A thrill shot through Lee, straight to his groin. He let his hand fall to Gev’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. Gev’s eyes opened, dark with fear. “This is shit, Lee. I’m not sure I can take much more of this.” Lee moved his hand to the steering wheel, glanced in the mirror, then whipped the car around. “That’s why I’m getting you out of here.” “You kissed me.” Lee moistened his lips. “Yeah. I did. Close your eyes. Try to relax.” When Gev didn’t protest, Lee knew to be worried. Gev leaned back against the seat. Then his eyes flew open. “I don’t want your friend to get hurt.” “If that guy with the hoodie is behind this, he already knows where Ruby is.” “Who is she?” “She’s—” Lee hesitated, then sighed. “A good friend of my mother’s. A very good friend of mine.” Gev stared at him. “The house.” “Yes.” Gev looked out the window for a long minute, then finally back at Lee. “Thanks. For coming back. You didn’t have to do that.” Lee took a deep breath. Calmness had stolen over him. Now that he knew what he had to do, now that Gev was safe and there were steps to be taken, he was okay, he realized. What would happen, would happen. “I know I didn’t. I wanted to.” “Because I’m Stef’s little brother,” Gev said ruefully. Lee was never gladder to hit a red light. He hesitated, but only because he knew his next words could—would—change things for them both. “No,” he said, then leaned over and kissed Gev again. This time, the kiss went deeper; Gev opened his mouth, and their tongues danced. Gev arched against Lee, then pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed. Lee touched his face again and said, “I came back because of you.” Gev stared at him, but traffic was hairy on this road, so Lee could only give him a quick look as the light turned green. Gev said nothing, just leaned back and closed his eyes again. But Lee could see the tension had eased a little, his shoulders relaxing. That showed Lee all he needed to know. “I’m not going to let anything else happen to you. I promise,” he said softly before turning his attention back to the road. The motion of the car left Gev queasy—or maybe he was permanently queasy these days. Maybe it was the fact that Lee had come back and found him and kissed him. He couldn’t believe it, relief and happiness warring with the very real fear of not knowing what the hell was going on. But Lee had kissed him. Now that he was in a calm place, safe, the panic was starting to subside at last. He kept his eyes closed, replaying Lee’s words over and over in his mind. Lee’d come back for him. He wanted to cheer and just…be happy for once, but he couldn’t. How could he?

118

Carolyn Gray

He couldn’t believe this was happening. The building had blown up—nearly with him in there, and possibly with some of the other dancers still inside. God, he hoped not. It was bad enough seeing his friends hurt, crying, freaked out, their dance studio in a shambles. He opened his eyes, the note Lee had found on his windshield sitting between them. He reached out and picked it up by the corner. Lee raised one shoulder. “Watch a lot of cop shows too, huh?” “You never know.” He looked closely at the paper, pretty much through one eye. The other was able to do little more than squint. The writing was small and cramped and in black ink; he could barely read it. The paper itself was plain yellow notepad paper. “Not much to go by.” “The fact that hoodie guy probably put it there is more important, I think.” Lee toyed with his cell phone, twirling it in his fingers as he drove. Gev stole a peek at Lee’s profile. He really hadn’t had much of a chance to look at him since they’d met again. Now he didn’t want to stop. He was older, of course, and looked really tired. Slight tan, probably from wherever they’d been last, considering it was October. Dark eyes fringed with dark lashes. He’d always loved Lee’s eyes. His hair was unkempt, though trim, and a shadow of a beard graced his jaw. Gev wondered, as his eyes lingered on Lee’s lips, what it would be like to kiss him again. That, though, made him think of the journal his brother had kept and what he’d written in it. Stefan pushed his way between them then, as surely as if he’d been there. Gev set the note back where it’d been. It would be best if he forgot about Lee, about anything except finding out who the hell wanted him dead and why. No one else would get hurt, he thought fiercely, clenching his hands as he glared out the side window. And the best way to make sure he kept that promise would be to leave Dallas, he realized. As soon as he could. The thought pained him, but better he ostracize himself than risk his family, his friends. Or Lee. Why had Lee gone and kissed him? It would be so much easier if he hadn’t. “What were you thinking about just then?” Gev looked at Lee, guilt no doubt on his face. “What? Nothing.” Lee looked skeptical. Then, fortunately, he got distracted by having to get onto the highway and didn’t say anything until he’d eased over a couple of lanes. Once he was in the right lane, Lee arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m supposed to believe that?” Shit. “Yes?” Lee looked at him for a moment but then fell silent. Gev pulled down the visor to see if there was a mirror. There was. He winced at his face. “Damn. I look pretty.” “It could be worse.” Gev snapped the visor back into place. “I know.” “I should take you to Ruby’s, have her look at your head.” Lee tapped the note. “But I think we need to take this in right away. Besides, I imagine they’re probably wondering where the hell you are.” “I—I’m sure someone saw me walk away.” “And you don’t think that didn’t freak out Detective Ramirez when she got there?”

Long Way Home

119

“She was there?” “Probably. I’d call her, but—” He fished for his phone. “Hold on.” He hit a number, then waited. “Ruby? Yeah. I got him okay. He’s safe. She did? Would you mind calling her back, let her know I’m bringing him in? Thanks.” Lee listened for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. You too.” He snapped his phone shut. “What’d she say?” “Shouldn’t be surprised. Detective Ramirez headed over there. Someone saw me pick you up but didn’t know it was me, so of course…” “No way.” “Yeah, apparently I kidnapped you. When she heard about it, she figured it was me and called off the hunt. She’s headed for the station and wants us to go straight there. Ruby was about to call me.” They both fell silent again. Lee headed off the highway, back through streets that Gev realized he was really tired of. He perched his chin on his palm and watched the buildings go by, the people trudging along in their ragged clothing. “I really hate this place,” he murmured. “You do? I thought you liked it here.” “Do you?” Lee snorted. “No. Every minute here is a minute too long. This—” He waved a hand as he slowed to a stop for a red light. “This place is…too many bad memories. I can’t imagine after I leave here that I’ll be back. There’s nothing for me here.” Gev tensed at that but shook it off. Maybe he’d been wrong about what Lee’d meant earlier. But then the expression on Lee’s face puzzled him. “You look kind of sad,” he said before he could check himself. “I am.” Lee looked down at his hands on the steering wheel. “You know, when I heard we were coming to Dallas, I dreaded it, but I was kind of excited too. I guess I’ll never stop wishing things had been different. Never stop wishing I’d known my mom like Ruby did.” “What about your dad?” The light turned green. “He never had any interest in me.” “Maybe he’s changed? People do.” “Did your mom change?” Gev had nothing to say to that. He thought of the journal again. He wondered if he shouldn’t tell Lee about it, but it wasn’t like he’d seen it himself. Maybe Nina could sneak it out of the house. Or maybe he would do it himself, and if his mom had a fit over it, too damn bad. He had a strong feeling—which was growing stronger and stronger in the face of all the hell that had gone down the past two days—that there was something they’d missed all those years ago by not having had access to that journal. Maybe Stefan had been trying to tell them something then of what he was facing, what he was dealing with. Gev still couldn’t believe his mom never showed it to the cops. And he wasn’t going to, either. Not until he’d looked at it himself. They pulled into the lot at the police station and parked in the front row. Lee got out, then looked back in when Gev hesitated. “You coming?”

120

Carolyn Gray

Gev sighed and grabbed the note by the corner again. “Yeah.” He pushed open the door and got out, squinting into the warm fall sun. He really wished he were on a couch somewhere with an ice pack on his head. He wavered a bit, his stomach queasy. Lee waited for him at the front of the car and took him by the arm to help him up the curb. “Thanks,” Gev said. “You’re unsteady on your feet.” “Yeah, didn’t you know? I nearly got blown up.” Lee eyed him, then guided him into the building. Gev couldn’t help himself. It felt good, Lee’s hand on his back, Lee right behind him, Lee warm and comforting. Protective. For now. Fuck, his life sucked. They walked down the hallway to the receptionist. Gev sat in a chair, cradling his throbbing forehead in one hand, the note dangling between his knees. It was Tuesday, right? Had all this started only yesterday? He winced as he heard a couple of teenage girls pass by, whispering, “You know who that was, don’t you?” and “Wonder why he’s here?” followed by “Didn’t you hear about…” And then the voices trailed off. He watched the girls’ retreating backs. One of them turned as Lee finished with the receptionist. Lee returned to him and caught the girl’s expression but ignored her. She and her friend burst into giggles and ran off. “They recognized you,” Gev said. “It happens more now since this last tour.” “Since you were in the news all the time with Dream, you mean?” “I’d rather they ignored me,” Lee said. “Better than the look I got. Do we have to wait?” “Ramirez is almost here. Said we could go to her office if we wanted to.” Lee scrutinized Gev’s face and grimaced. “He really gave you a good one, didn’t he?” “He had a lot of reason to do a good job.” “Pressing charges?” Lee asked as they headed down the hallway. “No. Of course not. I don’t blame him. I really don’t.” “Lee, Gev!” Ramirez swooped past them. “Follow me.” She turned to a uniformed officer and said, “Ask Alice to come see me with her kit, please.” The cop took off, presumably in search of Alice. “Come on, you two.” She strode down the hall, into an office, and past a secretary who looked up at them curiously. “Marjie, can you please let Detective Harrison know I’m back?” “Of course.” The woman picked up the phone without taking her eyes off Lee, who looked relieved when the detective pulled them into her office. “Lie down, Gev,” she directed, pointing him to the couch. Gev didn’t argue. Exhaustion pulled at him. He needed to get some rest. She dragged a chair over to sit next to the couch, motioning for Lee to do the same. A young woman about Gev’s age came in then, a bag over her shoulder. “Got a patient for me?” “This one,” the detective said. The woman sat down in the chair. “Hey, there. Let’s take a look at that.”

Long Way Home

121

Gev suffered in silence the next few minutes as his eye was looked at, as well as some cuts on his hands, arms, and neck that he hadn’t even noticed. While he dealt with that, he listened to Lee and the detective talk about the paper Lee had found on his car, the guy in the hoodie, and finding Gev walking down the street. The ministrations to his face over, Alice gave him two painkillers and left. He closed his eyes, letting himself relax at last. Lee’s voice next to him soothed him, made him feel warm and safe, and he didn’t care if he didn’t move from this spot for the next eight hours. But then, he would have to go. “Is he asleep?” Ramirez asked. “Yeah, looks like he’s out.” Gev was stretched out on the couch, tucked under a blanket, blood seeping through the bandage on his face. It was a wonder he didn’t need stitches. His breathing was even, his mouth slightly open. Lee ached to reach out and touch him, the thrill of kissing him lingering still. It’d been easier than he’d thought to take that step, and despite everything they were dealing with, he felt freer than he had in years. He moved his chair around to watch Gev sleep, wishing he would stay like that for a few hours, at least. “Good. I want to ask you something.” Lee turned his attention away from Gev, kind of dreading whatever she had to say. He knew it shouldn’t be like that, but no matter what, Detective Ramirez always put him on edge. “Yeah?” “I want you to tell me who you think that man was.” He hesitated. The brief glimpse, the scared look on the man’s face—he honestly didn’t know and said so. “I don’t know who it was, but I don’t think he means Gev any harm.” “I don’t think he does, either. I think his warning to you to find Gev was sincere.” “So he’s helping us for some reason? But what about the shoes?” She sat back in her chair, folding her hands over her stomach. Lee noticed then for the first time that the detective was slightly more rounded there. He lifted an eyebrow. She stared at him, her eyes dark and serious. “I know. That doesn’t exactly fit with the theory.” “And the tickets.” She opened a folder on her desk. It was thick, about two, two and a half inches. She shuffled through some papers, looking for something specific, he assumed. “Someone’s been in this folder, messing with it,” she muttered. “Who?” “Detective Harrison.” “What happened to him, anyway? I thought he was on this case. Chased off?” She smiled at him, a Cheshire-cat grin. “I told him if he didn’t want to sleep on the couch, he’d put me back in charge—and, well, let’s say he made the wiser choice.” Lee did laugh at that. “He left the case to you?” “Actually, no. I haven’t been able to solve this on my own all these years. I brought him into the case a couple years ago, and that”—she patted her belly—“is what brought us to this.” “I’m glad something good’s come out of everything.”

122

Carolyn Gray

“It has. I wish I could promise you this will all end well, that we’ll finally be able to figure out who took Stef and why, and why all this has come back up and blown up in our faces again after so long. But I’m not sure that will happen. Something’s going on right now, though.” “I wish I could understand why.” He gripped his thigh, digging his fingers into it until it hurt. Everything he’d kept bottled up inside for so damn long, all the secrets he’d kept all these years, the things he’d hidden about himself—things were coming to a head, hard and fast. He stood on the edge of a precipice with several different avenues of escape, none of which would be easy, none of which would keep him from scraping himself to shreds. Gev stirred. Lee studied Gev’s face. Even in sleep, he twitched and moved, his forehead alternately creasing with worry and smoothing out again. He’d been through a lot the last two days. A hell of a lot. Lee wished he could change things for Gev, make it all go away. “He’ll be okay, Lee.” He wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t convinced. “I hope you’re right. I wish I knew how to make it better.” “Get him out of here. Away from everything for a while.” “Run?” Lee grimaced at that. “I’m sick of running.” He could see the logic in it, of course, but it didn’t fit right with him, the thought of running this time. He looked at her again. “No. I don’t think that’s the right choice.” “You might want to ask Gev what he thinks when he wakes up.” “When can he go back to his house?” “Tomorrow. Go with him. The first time in there will be hard.” “I will.” He intended to keep his promise to Gev. No more harm would come to him. She pulled something out of her folder and slid it to him. “This is the digitally enhanced version of the capture at the hotel.” He eyed it for a moment, hesitating. His fingers refused to cooperate, to take the paper in his hand. “Were you able to identify him?” “Look at him. Tell me what you see.” He took the picture, his gaze on Ramirez. Sympathy deepened the expression on her face. Something, somehow, told him what he was about to see. He forced himself to look at the face. Despite the enhancement, it was still difficult to see it clearly. It was the same hoodie—so definitely the person he and Ruby had seen outside her house. Heat prickled his neck; the room felt too warm, too stifling. He knew that face. He couldn’t move. The words he wanted to say clawed to escape his throat, demanding release. His eyes burned. “Fucking hell. Fucking hell. No.” He looked up at the detective in disbelief. “It can’t be.” “His body was never found, Lee.” “He’s dead!” His gaze shot to the couch, but Gev hadn’t moved. She silently pushed another paper toward him. “This is another digitally enhanced photo, but this time it started out with a photo we had of Stefan when he was thirteen.”

Long Way Home

123

Lee took that photo more easily than the first. The precipice had grown, towered high over a gaping chasm, the bottom of which was fathomless. There was only one way down, and it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Damn it, it couldn’t. The two pictures, side by side, were of the same person. Or close enough. “How positive are you?” he choked out. No. “Not one hundred percent. We can’t be sure.” Stef. Alive. The thought of what it would mean—did mean—made his heart race. The possibility seemed inconceivable. All these years—where would he have been? Why did he stay away, if he was alive? And why would he appear now? The guy who had left the note on the car, warning him to get to Gev, could be Stef. It made an absurd, impossible sense. He looked at Gev again, the kiss wavering between them, as did the realization that Stef was alive. “How?” he said, his voice straining over the single word. His skin burned. His stomach roiled. All these years, and he’d been alive. All these years, blaming himself for a death that had never happened. “I don’t know.” He blinked, trying to clear his eyes. It took him a moment to grasp on to something solid, but he finally said, “Why would he not come forward, if it’s Stefan?” “No way to know.” Ramirez’s voice gentled as she spoke. “Cases of kidnapped children coming forward when they’re adults do happen. Sometimes they choose not to.” “But why not?” Though he knew the answer to that. She hesitated, picking up a pencil, which she worried in her fingers. “Fear, guilt. The longer they stay away, the more convinced they might become that the family would see them as tainted, unwanted. Or they convince themselves that because they weren’t found, the family didn’t care anymore or was better off without them. Also, sexual abuse, threats against the family. A lot of reasons.” Lee stilled. “Sexual abuse.” He closed his eyes, pain lancing through him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered that. Hell, his nightmares were damn vivid about it. The thought of Stefan, enduring—“Fucking hell.” “I know. He was young too. We don’t know who took him, but whoever it was could’ve persuaded Stefan he was better off with him.” Gev was still oblivious to the world, thank God. It wasn’t fair to him. And now, just after they’d kissed, when Lee had finally manned up and made something good happen between them… There was no choice, the way he saw it. “We have to tell him.” “No. Not yet.” He stared at her in surprise. “Why not? He deserves to know. I can’t keep this from him.” “I know it will be difficult, but I’m asking you to. Just for a little while, until we can be sure.” “So you want me to hide this from him. Now.” Now, when he’d finally realized what all those twisted emotions were, what the root of them came from whenever he looked at Gev. Now that he’d kissed him, let him know he wanted him. And he did. This didn’t change that fact, Lee realized. He wanted Gev even more, but now, dammit, he could lose him with just a handful of words. “Yes,” she answered.

124

Carolyn Gray

“Fucking hell.” “I know.” To keep something like this from Gev could damage their relationship permanently. Maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but it wasn’t a feeling he could shake. He stood. “I need to think.” He wanted to get the hell out of there. “No, I have to go. Stay here. Promise me something.” She stood, pulled her purse out of a drawer, and slung it over her shoulder. “What?” “You said you’d do anything to keep him safe. If you tell him it might be Stefan who’s warning him, that his brother might be alive but we don’t know for absolute certain, what do you think it would do to him?” She walked around her desk and looked down at Gev, her expression sad, her voice hushed. “I’ve watched over him for years now. Watched him grow up, checking on him whenever I could.” She took a deep breath, adjusting her bag. The look she gave Lee surprised him with its fierceness. “I would do anything for him too, you know. Keeping him safe has been my priority for a long time. I never fully believed whoever took Stefan would let his little brother go, but I wasn’t sure.” Lee leaned against the door. “Gev was in danger?” “You too, possibly. Especially you. But,” she said, gesturing helplessly, “nothing ever happened. Until now.” His flight response had tempered a little, but he still didn’t like it. He crossed his arms over his chest. The couch was to the left of the door. Gev moved in his sleep, a soft moan escaping his lips. One hand moved down, cradling his crotch and rubbing it. Ramirez rolled her eyes and opened the door. “All right. I’ll wait.” Even though Gev would likely hate him for it. He looked down at Gev, longing to reach over and touch his face. Lee’s hands practically itched to touch Gev now that he’d given himself permission to do so. But maybe now he had every reason not to. Hell. He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “You hungry? It’s almost dinnertime.” He realized then that he was. “Yeah, guess so.” “Join me in the cafeteria? It’s actually pretty good. We’ll let Sleeping Beauty here sleep awhile. You can catch me up on everything you’ve been doing the last year or so.” She raised one hand, index finger tapping toward him. “Not about the case. Not there.” He grimaced, opening the door. “I’ll be glad not to talk about the case for a while. I’m guessing this means it’s open again.” “It never closed.” Lee stole one last look at Gev. He moved again, curling up and facing the back of the couch. An ache, steady and firm, pulsed through Lee. Right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up behind Gev, arms wrapped around him tight to keep him from falling off into the gaping chasm far below. Ramirez was right. He would do anything to keep Gev safe. Even if it meant lying to him.

Long Way Home

125

Chapter Fifteen This time when he woke up, Gev did so cautiously. While the room was as dark as the last time he’d passed out somewhere on someone’s couch, there seemed no imminent threat of doom. So they’d left him to sleep. He blinked, cautiously sitting up, his eyes scanning the office as he huffed to himself and ran a hand over his hair. His face still thrummed and was swollen to his ginger touch. Exhaustion pulled hard at him, and the stale taste in his mouth made him grimace. A clock ticked quietly on the detective’s wall—close to six a.m., then. He was stiff and sore, and shit, this had been one hell of a horrible week. He needed to take a piss. Pushing aside the blanket someone (Lee? the detective?) had covered him with, he stood, wincing a little at the wave of nausea and dizziness that accompanied his movements. He pulled out his phone and checked his messages—a couple from his friends, asking where he was, if he was okay. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, then opened the door and peered down the hallway. A couple of cops stood at the far end, and from the end closest to where he stood, he heard someone talking on the phone. The restrooms were across the hall. He wondered if Lee was in there. Or maybe he had left. No, he wouldn’t have. They’d kissed. Lee had kissed him. He played it over in his mind again, the moment he’d realized Lee meant to do that. In all his imaginings, he’d never thought it would happen at all, much less on a street in Dallas. Damn. Hoping no one would stop him, in his socked feet he dashed across the hall and into the bathroom. After taking care of his needs with considerable relief, he washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. His eye was turning vivid colors, though at least the swelling had gone down. The dark circles under even his undamaged eye proved he’d had little sleep the last few days, and it wasn’t likely to get any better. He wondered what the hell he was going to do now. He couldn’t go back home, and the dance studio had blown sky-high. Returning to his parents’ was out of the question, and he didn’t have that much money saved, though his paycheck was due at the end of the week. He wasn’t even sure if his car was drivable anymore. With his luck, a corner of the building had landed on it. He splashed his face with water, then dried off and returned to the detective’s office. A creaking chair startled him. Turned around and leaning back in the detective’s chair, feet up on another chair and a blanket covering him, Lee slept, his head tilted to the side. Gev twisted the blinds a little so slatted shadows fell across Lee’s face. He leaned against the wall and looked at Lee, listening to his even breathing and wondering what the hell was

126

Carolyn Gray

really going on here, not only with whoever was trying, obviously, to kill him, but what was happening between him and Lee. He still couldn’t believe Lee had come back and kissed him, had driven around that corner, a knight in shining armor practically, to save him. Why, though? Was it out of obligation to Stefan, or because, as he’d said, he’d come back for Gev? Gev wanted so damn badly to put an end to the ridiculous parrying back and forth, but it would have to wait. He had to leave, now. Maybe if all this ended, once and for all, he could look up Lee again, and maybe by then Lee would realize what was right in front of his face. Stef was dead. He was not. It was as simple as that. If something happened to Lee because of him, he didn’t know how he’d stand it. An image of Chad’s body, covered in blood, his clothes so drenched Gev wouldn’t be able to swear to their color, shifted in Gev’s mind, became Lee. The image startled him so much, he jerked back, his foot hitting the chair. Lee woke with a start. “What?” He looked around, then up at Gev, who had frozen guiltily. “Gev?” “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Shit. So much for sneaking out now. Lee sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s okay. What time is it?” “Just after six.” Lee looked over at the lamp. Gev reached over and turned it on, wincing a little at the bright light. “What woke you?” Lee pulled his feet off the other chair. “Oh shit, that was a mistake,” he said, rubbing his legs as he stretched them out. “I needed to take a piss.” Lee yawned. “Good idea. Be right back.” As Lee ran across the hall, Gev located his shoes, then stood looking around the office, unsure what to do next. Sneaking out now wouldn’t work. Resolving to put his plan in action anyway, the second Lee returned and closed the door behind him, Gev said, “I’m leaving.” Lee’s eyebrows shot up. “The detective asked us to stay here.” “No,” he said, his conviction returning. “I can’t sit around and wait for something else bad to happen. I’m leaving, going somewhere no one else can get hurt because of me.” He didn’t wait for a response, just opened the door and started walking. “Shit. Gev, wait.” Lee caught up with him as Gev reached the desk. The cop at the desk put down the magazine she’d been reading. “What can I do for you?” “Would you mind calling me a cab?” “Sure, honey, no problem.” “Thanks.” “This isn’t going to help,” Lee said. Gev moved over by the glass doors so he could see outside. “I don’t know that,” he said, hardening his expression. If Lee argued with him too much, he’d give in. He stared at the man he wanted more than anything, already weakening. Dammit. The thought of Lee getting hurt and it being Gev’s fault… He pushed open the door and went outside to the curb.

Long Way Home

127

Lee followed him. “Stop being a fool.” Gev turned on him. “Are you calling me stupid? For not wanting anyone else hurt? Or killed?” He sliced the air with his hand. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t care what anyone else says, that Detective Ramirez wants me to stay here, holed up, hiding away from whoever is doing this to me. I can’t sit here and do nothing. Can’t you see that? People keep getting hurt around me. Killed.” He swallowed, finding it suddenly hard to keep his composure. “I can’t let that happen again. Especially…especially not to you.” There. He’d said it. The expression on Lee’s face made him ache, want to fall into Lee’s arms and tell him he was sorry, sorry for everything, for bringing this all on him. His body throbbed with it, but he didn’t move. “I figure it’d be best if I go somewhere, lay low for a while. I’ll let the detective know where when I get there.” He looked away. Lee caught his arm. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” “How do you know that, though?” Gev demanded, pulling away. He rubbed his face in frustration, forgetting about his hurt eye. Fuck, he was falling apart so fast, whoever was after him could probably just wait a little while until he was a heap of bones and sinew, totally defenseless. “The killer could be out there right now, waiting, watching, ready to finally do what so far he’s been unable to.” “I know that, but I’m not leaving you.” Gev stared at him, searching madly for the words that would send Lee away, that would protect him from all this. “Why won’t you listen to me?” He winced at how it came out in a whine. Lee raised an eyebrow. “Because you need someone to watch out for you, and it might as well be me.” Gev wanted to scream at him, shove him away and out of there, but the set expression on Lee’s face deflated him. “You’re a stubborn bastard,” he muttered. “So I’ve been told.” Lee pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out some gum. He took out a piece, then offered the pack to Gev. “Any ideas where you want to go?” “I don’t know. I want to go by my house and get some things.” Gev hesitated. One last stab—“You should go back to Colorado.” Lee snorted. “Like hell.” He leaned into Gev’s space, his dark eyes flashing. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again, so stop trying to push me away. Got it?” Gev stared at him, a hot shiver dancing down his spine. He believed Lee; he really did. But he’d dealt too long with his brother’s ghost, was too used to believing he would never have what he wanted, because of Stef. So the doubt remained, though the hope grew. Cautiously. “Okay. Thank you,” he said. Lee’s lips curved crookedly. Gev loved that. Lee stood so close, it would be so easy to melt against him, let those arms wrap around him and put a wall between him and the evils of the world. The sky was beginning to lighten, and no one was around. “Hey,” Lee said. Gev looked at him; their eyes locked, making Gev’s stomach lurch, his cock stir. Shit. Glare from a parking-lot light moved across Lee’s face, making his eyes glisten. Gev fought not to look away. “We’re in this together, you know. Till the bitter end and all that.” “Just like in the movies?” Lee laughed softly at that. “No Thelma-and-Louise-like grand gestures, though, okay?”

128

Carolyn Gray

Gev looked away at last. Lee’s intensity had shaken him. “Thank you,” he said again. Lee’s fingers touched his cheek, turning him so Lee could brush firm lips across Gev’s. The moment it happened, the second he felt Lee’s mouth against his, the warmth of Lee’s hand cradling his face, the other hand snaking around his waist and pulling him tight against Lee’s body, Gev knew he was lost. The first time Lee had kissed him, he’d been so overwhelmed, in shock still, he almost hadn’t dared to believe there would be another. Lee wanted him$. All the walls he’d built over the years between himself and the impossibility of ever having who he wanted began to crumble. A small groan escaped him as he answered Lee’s kiss, more desperate than hungry. Big chunks fell off the wall when he realized Lee wasn’t going to pull back. He grabbed hold of Lee, afraid his knees would buckle. He felt Lee too—fucking hell, he felt him completely, Lee’s arousal hard and thick against his own. A betraying whimper escaped, making Lee smile against his lips before pulling Gev against him harder, more desperately, breaths hot and panting for more, more… Why the hell weren’t they still in the detective’s office? The rest of the wall crashed to the ground. Lee broke the kiss but didn’t let him go. “I thought—” Gev caught his breath. I thought you didn’t like me@. “I thought you weren’t into guys.” Lee pulled back. They stood looking at each other, the shock of what happened coupled with the shock of having to move apart leaving Gev, at least, feeling dizzy with excitement and confusion. He braced himself, ready for Lee’s denial, his excuses for what had happened. Instead, the corner of Lee’s mouth lifted, and he passed his hand over the bulging front of his jeans. “Yeah, well. Obviously I’m into you.” “Since when?” Gev demanded, though his voice held need rather than fire. Sadness wavered in Lee’s eyes. “I don’t know. Since Saturday night?” “Shit,” Gev said. His body quivered with bemusement and fear and full-on arguing that Lee didn’t mean it, that he was saying that to make Gev feel better. Stefan loomed between them even now. Lee’s gaze locked with Gev’s again, his eyebrows furrowed. He brought both hands up to Gev’s face. “Hey, it’s okay. This sucks, but you aren’t alone.” Gev closed his eyes, letting stand Lee’s misunderstanding of what was freaking him out. “Shit, I’m falling apart.” Lee rubbed Gev’s shoulder almost absently as he looked down the street for the cab. “Kinda understandable. We’ll get your things, then go somewhere. Anywhere, I don’t care. You need decent food and sleep before we can figure out what to do.” “Detective Ramirez is going to be pissed.” “Probably.” The cab finally arrived. Gev opened the door and slid inside, then scooted over so Lee could get in. “Where to?” “Twenty-three oh two Douglas Street.” Gev turned to Lee. “What about your rental?” “Oh shit. Wait.” Lee darted out of the cab, returned a moment later with a laptop backpack and a bag, and tossed them in the trunk once the cabbie popped the lid. “I’ll leave it there for

Long Way Home

129

now,” Lee said as he slid back onto the seat. “Been seen driving it. I’ll have to get the keys to them later.” “You guys ready now?” the cabbie said. “Yes, thanks,” Lee said. The streets were starting to get busy. Gev was intensely aware of Lee next to him; he swore he could feel the heat they’d been generating. Lee pressed his leg against Gev’s—which did nothing to calm his cock down—then put his hand on Gev’s thigh for a brief, stunning moment. Gev melted into the seat, sucking in his breath. Fuck. Gev eyed the cab driver, who seemed oblivious to them, but caution won out. He caught Lee’s eye, pleading with him. Lee raised one eyebrow, then looked forward again, the corner of his mouth twitching. Damn. The bastard knew Gev was in dire straits. They turned onto Lemmon, drawing closer to his home. His blood-soaked home. He instantly deflated, but Lee’s touch to his leg was reassuring, understanding. For a second there, he wondered if Lee had been distracting him on purpose. Probably. They turned onto Gev’s street. The little reddish brown house looked forlorn with the yellow crime-scene tape flapping in the breeze. “This right?” the cabbie said as they pulled to a stop. “Yeah. This is right.” “What happened?” The guy looked like nice enough, but Gev wasn’t feeling too gracious all of a sudden. And he sure didn’t feel like explaining anything. “Just a party,” Lee said, to Gev’s relief. To Gev he said, “I’ll pay for it.” Grateful Lee understood, Gev opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, barely aware of Lee coming up behind him, bag and backpack in hand. The cab drove off. Crime-scene tape was still wrapped around the pillars and sealing the door. Tire marks from the emergency vehicles marred the lawn, and the bushes looked as if they’d been slightly whacked. Other than that, there was no real evidence that anything remotely like a vicious murder had occurred here. A shudder ran through Gev, and Lee placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can go in if you want me to.” Lee’s voice was warm, reassuring, and Gev wanted nothing more than to let him do that. The memory of Lee’s lips on his, his body pressed against him… That’s where he’d rather be. Anywhere but here. “No. No, I’ll be okay.” He smiled a little at Lee’s protectiveness. He knew Lee had lots of practice at playing this role, what with all that had happened to Nick as well as Brandon Ashwood, but he felt no less special for it. Now his plan to ditch Lee and go it on his own seemed very unappetizing. Okay, then. He headed for the front door but paused on the stoop. Lee followed suit. “This really sucks.” “Yes, it does,” Lee said, setting his bags down out of the way. Taking a deep breath, Gev slid his key into the lock, turned it, and pushed against the door. He opened it all the way and stood there looking inside. The hallway had mud streaked across it… Or was that the blood? He didn’t want to look too closely to find out. Everything else seemed the same—the too-loud hum of the refrigerator,

130

Carolyn Gray

the coffee cup he’d left on the table in front of the TV, the ticking of the mantel clock that had been Chad’s mom’s. She’d put it there herself. It hurt that he’d brought Chad’s mom so much grief, so much sorrow. He didn’t blame Chad’s dad at all for taking it out on him. He deserved no less. Chad should be alive, not him. Conscious of Lee behind him, waiting, he braced himself and took a step in, then looked over his shoulder. Lee was there with him, and no one was inside. Whoever had killed Chad and Curtis was long gone, mission not completely accomplished but havoc well wreaked. He needed to check with Manny about the cat. He wanted Screech; she was his now. “Gev.” Gev looked up. He’d stopped at the end of the tile, at the edge of the living room. To the left was the kitchen, dirty dishes still in the sink, and his room. To the right, Chad’s room. He needed a suitcase, so he grabbed a duffel bag—one of Chad’s—from the hall closet. The bag was the most hideous orange—so ugly, Chad claimed, that no one ever wanted to steal it. The memory of that made Gev sad. Damn, he missed Chad. With a viselike grip on the duffel, he headed for his room. Steeling himself, he opened the door. The first thing to greet him was the stench. Nausea burned the back of his throat. Worse, far worse, was the mattress, the floor, black and drenched and foul. “Fucking hell.” Covering his face, he backed out and slammed the door shut, then bolted outside to the porch and bent over, gasping, sucking in the clean air. It took a minute before he could straighten, eyes watering and head thrown back. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Lee closed and locked the door, then grabbed Gev gently by the arm and pulled him into the yard. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Gev. Breathe deep.” Gev dug his fingers into Lee’s arms. He knew he was hurting Lee, but the horror was too vivid in his mind. “I can’t… I can’t ever go back there.” The thought of it made him want to puke. “My stuff, I have things in there, all ruined—” “Not everything will be. Is there someplace we can go and sit? I should’ve had the cab wait.” Gev loosened his grip, feeling his nausea ebb. “Man, that was worse than I thought. I thought I could handle it.” Lee snorted. “I don’t see how anyone could.” Gev stared at the house. His house, his former home. He could never go back in there, ever again. Everything was different now. Had it really only been two days since Chad was killed? “What about those dudes who clean up after crimes?” “When we call the detective, I’ll ask her who to call. We’ll get someone in there to clean up the place, get what stuff you want.” Gev looked down at his dance clothes, which had last seen the washer that weekend. He pulled at his shirt. He’d be close to reeking soon. “Fuck, this is all I have. What I have on, a couple of things at my mom’s.” “Guess we’ll have to go shopping later. I need a few things myself.” Gev winced. He didn’t have the money to go out and spend like that. Especially now. Then he remembered—“I’ve got some stuff in the dryer.”

Long Way Home

131

“You don’t have to go in. I will.” “No, it’s okay. The laundry is in the garage.” A wave of exhaustion pulled at him. “Everything’s changed. There’s no going back.” Panic bit at him. “I don’t know what to do.” He raised a hand toward the house, then dropped it again. “I don’t know what to do.” He didn’t want Lee to answer, didn’t expect him to. He had to figure things out for himself. He had to think. But he couldn’t here. Not here, with that nightmare inside. Lee grabbed the duffel. “I’ll go get your stuff.” As Lee headed around back to the garage, Gev sat on the curb. He propped his forehead on his hands and stared down at the sidewalk, watching an ant crawl across it with relative purpose. The ant knew what to do; Gev wished he did. He tried to blank out his mind, but it wasn’t working. All he could see was his bed, blackened with blood. Chad’s blood. It only took a few minutes before Lee reappeared, clutching the now full duffel bag. Gev pushed to his feet, then took the duffel from Lee and slung it over his shoulder. Lee returned to the front porch, grabbed his own bags, and rejoined him. “Better?” Lee asked. “I guess. Thanks.” Gev kissed him—a brush across the lips, really, but Lee’s easy response reassured him. Lee reassured him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.” “Glad I am.” Lee reached for his phone. “I’ll call us a cab.” “No, wait.” Gev put his hand on Lee’s. “I just—” He paused, looking around the neighborhood, his neighborhood. The tightness in his chest had eased a little. “Not yet? I just—” He gestured down the street, then looked back at Lee. “Not yet.” “Sure. No problem.” He searched Lee’s eyes, glad of the understanding he saw there. Adjusting the duffel, he headed down the sidewalk. He wanted to get somewhere normal to him, somewhere familiar that wouldn’t remind him of dead bodies and blood on floors and blown-up buildings and getting sucker-punched in the face, and of whoever the hell wanted to kill him, wanted him to die some horrible, gruesome, horrendous death. He was glad Lee understood. Robert—Stef—pulled back behind the side of the neighbor’s house as he watched his brother and Lee head down the street. Gev had kissed Lee. Stef closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as the image of that brief but very real kiss seared through him. He had hoped this would happen, hoped they would find each other, but it hurt even now. Taking a deep breath, he straightened and looked across the street at Gev’s house once more. All in all, he’d failed his little brother. He hadn’t meant for things to get so bad, had been stupid to believe he would get away with sending those tickets. And now two people—two innocent people—were dead. If he didn’t figure out what to do, and soon, everything would get even worse. He followed after Gev and Lee, making sure they couldn’t see him, though it took all his willpower not to run straight to them both.

132

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Sixteen Lee watched Gev as he walked away, head bent down. The guy was clearly in shock. Lee was too, to be honest; he’d only had a glimpse of that bed, but damn, Chad’s death must have been brutal. He stayed a few paces behind, giving Gev time to clear his mind. All in all, though, he thought Gev was holding up better than most would. Lee remembered his own reaction when he’d learned Nick had been kidnapped. He’d been furious, wanted to punch someone, his anger so intense, so violent, he’d scared himself. The helplessness had been worse, though, the long days and nights of worrying over what Nick was going through, what it would do to him—and, he thought with a grimace, what it would do to Brandon, once Lee had cared enough to consider his feelings. He’d been such a rank bastard to Brandon. Wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for that. That time, the not knowing what had happened to Nick, had been horrible. It was as if his entire life was affected by events outside himself but in which he had an intrinsic role. A role he couldn’t change. First Stefan, then Nick. And now Gev was involved in something just as dangerous, just as terrifying. At the corner, Gev waited for the light to change, then stepped into the street. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw the flash of a car that should’ve been rolling to a stop but instead kept on coming. Gev jerked when someone shouted, “Watch out!” and Lee yelled “Gev!” He dropped his bags as he leaped toward Gev, then grabbed him and yanked him backward. They tumbled to the sidewalk, Gev on top of Lee, both of them on top of the duffel. He didn’t let Gev go and barely avoided smacking his own head on the concrete. The car fishtailed as it rounded the corner and sped off. “Are you guys all right?” Two women rushed across the street and hauled them to their feet. “That car didn’t stop. I can’t believe they didn’t see you.” “What? It tried to mow him down. You okay, Gev?” “Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay.” Lee let him go only then—Gev obviously knew them—and stared after where the car had disappeared. What the fuck? “Are you sure? Your eye looks terrible.” “I’m fine. I already had that,” Gev was saying behind him. “Oh, my God, Gev. I can’t believe it, all this—” “Let’s get them away from here before you lose it,” the other woman said, then hauled Gev after her. Chest still heaving, Lee grabbed their bags and followed. They didn’t stop until they reached a closed parking lot across the street. Once safe from any marauding cars, the two

Long Way Home

133

women started peppering Gev with questions—was he really okay, had he hit his head, and on and on. Lee stood back and watched, almost finding humor in the situation. Almost. “I’m okay,” Gev said once again, smiling now at their fussing. Both women wore running clothes; both had blonde hair tied back into ponytails. In fact, except for the fact that they looked nothing alike, everything about them was alike. Gev looked at Lee, his expression haunted. “That car—it wanted to hit me.” “I know,” Lee said. “I can’t believe this.” Gev ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to lock myself in a closet or something. This is ridiculous.” He looked at his elbow—it was rubbed raw. “Fucking hell.” He looked at Lee. “Thanks. You okay?” He’d be sore tomorrow, but he was okay. “I’m fine.” Lee brushed off his jeans, noticing only then that gravel had embedded itself in the palm of his hand. He picked it out, wincing at the little beads of blood. Great. “Who’s your friend, Gev?” one of the women asked. She cocked her head to the side, eyeing Lee. “Have we met?” He started to say no, but she held a hand up. “No, wait. Don’t tell me.” Gev rolled his eyes. “You don’t know him.” The other woman grabbed her friend’s arm. “Your favorite band poster? Hello, Miss YesI-still-had-that-poster-on-the-wall-until-I-was-twenty-five.” She stared at Lee. Gev was smiling, so Lee let go of the tension that usually found him in this scenario. Better than Gev freaking out about that car. “No shit. You’re—” She turned to her friend, blue eyes wide. Then she stared at Lee again, squealed, and threw her hands in the air. “Oh, my God! I love you!” She grabbed him in a big hug, and he couldn’t contain a pained huffing sound. She stiffened, then let him go, horror on her face. “I’m so sorry.” A movement from Gev drew her attention. “Gev! I am so sorry, so, so sorry,” she said, gathering Gev in a hug. The other woman smiled lopsidedly at Lee and rolled her brown eyes. “And to think she’s one of Dallas’s leading consumer-rights attorneys.” “You’re mocking me,” the attorney said. “Oh, you love it.” “Maybe.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the brown-eyed one teased. Lee wanted to know more about who they were, but this wasn’t the best place to talk. He looked around. The menace had passed, the street back to ordinary, but he didn’t trust anything anymore. “I think we’d better get out of here.” “Oh! You’re right,” the attorney said. “I’m Drew, by the way.” “And I’m Trish. And you’re Lee Nelson. And why, Gev Sinclair, did you never say you knew him?” “I—” Gev winced. “Sorry.” “Did you see what happened?” Lee asked. “Did it look like that car sped up?” Trish pressed her lips into a thin line as she looked down the street. “I don’t know. I wish that guy hadn’t taken off. He was closer to it.”

134

Carolyn Gray

“What guy?” “Some guy jogging along the street. He yelled at Gev to watch out. Didn’t you hear him?” “Yeah, I did,” Gev said. Lee stilled. “Did he have on a hoodie? A gray one?” Stef. Fuck. “Yeah, he did,” Drew said. “If he hadn’t shouted when he did, Gev probably wouldn’t have pulled up in time.” Gev’s eyes widened. “Shit.” He locked eyes with Lee. “I didn’t hear—I thought that was you.” “I did yell, but you’d already started to pull back.” Drew looked at Trish, then Gev. “Where were you headed?” “Manny’s.” Drew grabbed him by the chin. “Hey, I heard about the dance studio. Is that how you got hurt?” His eye was purpled-up nicely. Lee would’ve been amused at the two women, but Gev’s misery was too clear. “No, Chad’s dad punched me.” “Someone out there’s got it in for you, don’t they?” Drew murmured. She released Gev and touched Trish’s shoulder. “Our house?” “Yup.” “No, I can’t put you guys in danger.” Drew slid her arm through Gev’s. “You look like hell. You’ve been through it, surely— and where else are you going to go? No, you’re coming home with us, at least for now.” “We’ll call everyone, let them know to keep an eye out for the hoodie guy and that car,” Trish said. “And on the house.” “Good idea.” “I know. It was, wasn’t it?” Gev looked as lost as Lee felt. Once again, Lee followed after Gev, but this time Gev had his friends on either side of him, keeping an eye on their surroundings. He seemed to be more at ease in their company. More than he is in yours. Lee couldn’t help the thought. For a moment, he wondered if he should just leave Gev with these two—this was his neighborhood, after all. Of course, this was also where his friend had been killed and he’d nearly been mown over. With a sigh and feeling a bit awkward now, Lee shifted his laptop strap on his shoulder, then grabbed his and Gev’s bags. He snorted to himself; pack-mule duty was something he was used to. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to reach the house. The other three hadn’t stopped talking as they walked ahead of him. At least Gev seemed better now. Lee headed after them up the stairs as Drew opened the door and waved in Gev and Trish. When she looked at Lee, her eyes widened as she took in his burden. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,” Drew said. Trish yelled from somewhere inside, “Where’s your wallet?”

Long Way Home

135

“Kitchen table, I think,” Drew called back. She reached for the duffel bag. “Let me take that.” “Don’t worry about it,” Lee said, tired enough that it was a challenge to keep the peevish tone from his voice. Drew dipped her head in apology, then disappeared into the house. Gev returned a moment later, a sheepish look on his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” “No, it’s not. That was rude of me,” he said softly as he took his duffel. “I don’t want you to wish you were anywhere but here.” “It’s all right, really.” “You should’ve said something. I want you to be—” But whatever Gev was about to say was lost when Drew emerged from the kitchen, wallet in hand. “Off to get doughnuts. Got a preference?” Gev put a hand on his stomach, but his gaze was still on Lee. Drew eyed him. “I know, I know—you don’t eat doughnuts. But you do today. What kind?” Lee gave him a “might as well” look. “Cinnamon roll?” Gev said, shoulders slumping in mock defeat. “Good. What about you, Lee?” Lee wasn’t in the mood, but he figured Gev wouldn’t eat alone. “Plain’s fine.” Drew pressed her lips together. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? This is not your typical doughnut place. They make the best cinnamon rolls ever. Gev’s succumbed, so you have to too.” She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “They have them with pecans.” Lee couldn’t fight the grin on Gev’s face. He wondered if this was the start of a lifetime of doing what made Gev happy. He wondered why the hell the thought made him happy. “Fine. I’ll have one.” “With nuts? You like nuts, don’t you?” What the fuck? His face heated. “Uh, yeah.” He wouldn’t look at Gev, but he could sense his amusement. Marvelous. And he didn’t mind, not really. “Thought so. I’ll be right back. Trish is going to make some coffee, so make yourselves at home.” She looked down at their things. “Uh…share a room? Or one of you can sleep on the couch.” Gev flushed. “We’ll figure it out later. Go. I’m starving.” He put down his duffel and started to reach for his wallet, but Drew waved him off. “I’ve got this.” She headed out. Lee set his things down next to Gev’s in the hallway. “We don’t have to stay here,” Gev said. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I kinda want to, at least one night…if that’s okay with you.” Lee heard Trish moving around in the kitchen. A door opened, followed by the clatter of paws. Curious, Lee looked toward the sound. He liked dogs, wondered if Gev did too. “We’ll

136

Carolyn Gray

stay here. I don’t think whoever tried to mow you down saw us leave with them, so it’s as good a place as any. We’ll let Detective Ramirez know where we are. We’ll be okay.” They stood awkwardly in the hallway, Gev looking far from reassured. Lee wasn’t sure what the best thing to do was, so he went for his instinctive reaction—he pulled Gev into his arms. When Gev grabbed hold of him and buried his face in Lee’s shoulder, a slight shudder rippling through him, Lee realized then how exhausted, how tired and scared Gev was. He ran his hand up and down Gev’s back, bent down as Gev raised his head. Their lips grazed. Gev’s hold tightened, and Lee kissed him for real this time, closing his eyes, wishing they were alone, as he dared not release his grip on his body’s reaction—and dammit, he was going to explode right there in the hallway if he wasn’t careful. The muscles beneath his hands relaxed, rippling a thrill through Lee. He wanted nothing more than to slide his hands all over Gev’s body, explore the softness of his skin, every dip and curve. Just everything. That he would do so, and soon, nearly undid him on the spot. The rushing sound of paws on a wooden floor broke the spell. Gev pulled back, laughing as an Australian shepherd, tail stump wiggling, snuffled at them. As Gev reached down to pet the dog, his other arm remained wrapped around Lee, and he met Lee’s gaze, his own full of promise. Damn. Trish joined them, grinning as she noticed their flushed faces and the lingering evidence of their embrace. Lee was damn glad he had a coat on. “So, I was right. That’s what I thought.” She cocked her head to the side. “That’s what I hoped.” “Hoped what?” Gev said, still petting the dog. “That you two were doing each other.” “Trish!” “She found us out,” Lee said, clearly not upset. “She did?” Gev said, his voice hoarse. “Can’t keep any secrets from her, it looks like.” Gev laughed. Lee loved hearing it. “Yeah, I guess not.” “You guys are adorable.” To the dog she said, “Come on, you mongrel. Want some cookies?” The dog immediately lost interest in Lee and Gev. “This is Khyra, by the way. You guys need anything else? Other than some privacy?” “Showers?” “Sure. We have two—one upstairs, one down—unless one will be enough.” She raised her eyebrows. “That coffee made yet?” Gev asked. She waved a hand at them. “Fine, fine. But clean up after yourselves, okay?” When she and the dog had returned to the kitchen, Gev said, “She’s enjoying this too much, I think.” He started to move away, but Lee stopped him, pulled him closer again, and kissed him again. This wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be, and the way Gev felt against him, the way he looked up into Lee’s eyes… It felt good. Damn good. And right, in a way being with Maya had never been. The long list of things he owed her an apology for just kept getting longer.

Long Way Home

137

Maybe this was what he’d really been waiting for all these years—not so much to deny himself, punishment for Stefan, but to wait for the chance to get Gev back into his life. No. He’d been punishing himself. A worried look edged into Gev’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” Lee said. Gev looked away. “Nothing.” He moved out of reach and grabbed the duffel. “I’ll take the downstairs bathroom.” “Okay.” Lee picked up his bags and headed for the stairs, a little disappointed. He found the bathroom and locked the door behind himself. Despite that “nothing,” something was clearly bothering Gev, and the only thing Lee could think of was Stefan. Staring at himself in the mirror, Lee didn’t like the guilt that outlined his face. Hell yes, Stefan was between them, hovering over them. If Ramirez was right and Stef was alive, Lee couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually threatening Gev. Why would he want to hurt his brother, though? Why would he want to stay hidden? Then again, he’d warned Gev twice now. It had been someone else behind that wheel. The possibilities weighed heavily on Lee’s mind. That wasn’t the Stefan he had known. Stef had been a loving, caring kid, protective of his little brother. The only person Stefan had ever argued with was his mother, and that wasn’t anything abnormal. At least, not to Lee. Too many puzzle pieces didn’t fit. What if he did see Stefan again? What would he do? There was no going back; he knew that. He’d taken this step with Gev while knowing Stef could be out there, and Gev… Gev was pretty damn awesome. Lee knew the memory of him dancing would never fade, nor would the memory of how Lee had been slammed while watching him. The desire to take him, possess him, had rocked Lee hard, but he wasn’t fool enough to deny himself what was being offered. Even knowing Gev wanted him—and had for a long time—wouldn’t make him treat this whole thing lightly, though. If Stef was alive, that would be the most incredible thing in the world. But the time they’d had together was in the past. Lee turned on the bathroom faucet and waited for the water to heat so he could shave. Nick had always insisted they stay clean-shaven on tour. The fans wanted to be able to see their expressions, and it made them look younger. Long as they didn’t look too close. Lee peered at his reflection—there were definite lines creeping onto his face, and no way would he use Botox, no matter how Nick swore by it. Like he needed it. He was barely thirty. As Lee shaved, his mind played over what was going on. He almost couldn’t believe he and Gev were, it looked like, becoming a couple. Becoming like Nick and Brandon, something he’d never thought he’d have. Mostly because he’d held on to Stefan for so long. Gev’s face flashed into his mind. Too long. He hadn’t known how to let go—and hadn’t tried, because there hadn’t been anyone he’d wanted to get serious with. Someone he cared for enough to end his years-long charade of being the straight man to Nick and Brandon. Not that he’d given anyone a chance to get that close. Not even Maya. He was seriously fucked up. That needed to end, whether or not things worked out with Gev. Lee splashed his face, wiped it off with his hand, and set the razor down.

138

Carolyn Gray

He hoped the house had a good water heater, what with them both taking a shower at the same time. Wishing he’d been bold enough to say “one shower” to Trish, he turned on the shower and stuck his hand in the spray, waiting until it warmed before he stepped in. As the hot water sluiced over him, taking away the aches and roughness of the previous hours, he admitted there really was no question of what he would do. He wanted Gev. And despite all the painful things in both their pasts, Gev wanted him too. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was sure it would be worth it. He’d reached for the shampoo when his cell phone went off. A text message. He hesitated, but curiosity got the better of him. Few people other than Sam texted him, though Marisa had been known to now and then. Nick just called if he wanted to talk. But it was too early for any of them. He stepped onto the bath mat, steam billowing around him. The cool air of the bathroom prickled his skin. He pulled his cell out of his jeans. Gev? He opened the message. For a moment, he was confused about what he was looking at. Then an incredulous laugh burst from him. It was a picture, kind of blurry, but what the fuck—it was Gev. Naked, almost—close enough—a white towel draped low around his hips. Very low. The little bastard. Lee’s mouth went decidedly dry, despite the steam. That flat stomach, carved and perfect, dipping down and cutting off right above Gev’s cock… “Fucking hell,” he ground out, his own cock throbbing. He stroked himself, his breath coming in quick gasps. Shit. He caught a glimpse of the mirror. Steam had started to cloud it, encroaching on his reflection. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but what the hell. He thumbed the camera button, holding his cock with his free hand, and took a picture, the steam doing little to hide the subject. Feeling light-headed and ridiculously giddy, he hit Send. Shivers ran through him, the cooling of his body a sharp contrast to the hot heaviness of his cock in his hand. What the hell had gone through Gev’s head to make him send that picture? What the hell was he thinking, sending one back? Lee set his phone down when there was no response and had started to step back into the shower—intent on finding release to the image of Gev’s body burned into his mind—when there was a knock on the door. His heart leaped. Feeling weirdly disembodied, he reached over to unlock the door, then stared at the knob, mesmerized, willing it to turn, his heart racing, acutely aware that he stood naked and dripping on a bath mat with his cock at full-mast, and he didn’t give a damn. Gev pushed the door open and looked in, his face flushed and his green eyes widening as his heated gaze fell on Lee. He slid in, bare except for a towel around his waist, locked the knob behind him, and leaned against the door. Lee couldn’t breathe as he drank in Gev, flushed and anxious, the towel around his hips tenting. They stared at each other, both frozen. Mentally shaking himself, not taking his gaze from Gev, he took the two steps forward that put them within inches of each other. Gev licked his lips, and his green eyes shone dark as a soft “Oh hell yes” escaped him. Lee reached out and slowly pulled the towel away from his hips. Gev let it drop to the floor. In a flash, he all but leaped for Lee. Lee wrapped his arms around Gev, pushing him against the door, which rattled with their weight, then yanking him against the sturdier wall, their mouths meeting with ravenous hunger. Skin against skin—Lee’s damp and Gev’s getting that

Long Way Home

139

way fast—their cocks trapped between their bodies, Lee held Gev captive against the wall, his knee spreading Gev’s legs, his mouth and tongue exploring Gev’s mouth, kissing him, the roughness of Gev’s early-morning beard scraping across Lee’s lips, his own freshly shaven face. Gev kissed him back like he was drowning. Low, panting moans escaped Gev, moans that made Lee growl deep in his throat. Near mindless with the fiery need to consume Gev, he tasted him, sucked on his neck, nipped at him in short, sharp bites that made Gev cry out, the sound shooting straight to Lee’s groin. Gev’s hand flailed, smacking against the door. A laugh escaped him, and Lee paused long enough to join him, then snaked one hand up his back and cupped his scalp. His scent—musky, woodsy somehow—was all Gev, and Lee was grateful he hadn’t yet stepped into the shower, hadn’t yet rinsed away his singular taste. Lee’s cock swelled impossibly huge. The sizzle of Gev’s hands on his body wasn’t enough. He had to have more, wanted inside Gev, needed to feel his tight heat as Lee slammed into him. But fucking hell, not here, not now. He didn’t have a single condom on him. “I want to fuck you,” Lee said, his voice rough with hunger. “Dammit.” Pressing his forehead to Gev’s, he took several deep breaths. “Tonight.” “Yes,” Gev said hoarsely as Lee reached between them and grabbed both their cocks in his hand. Gev was uncut, Lee realized heatedly, his own cock pulsing furiously. He liked an uncut guy. The clash of their cocks, hot and dripping, nearly knocked him over. He pressed them together, stroking, playing with Gev’s foreskin, making him whimper. Lee liked that. Did it again. “Fuck,” Gev whispered. Lee rubbed their cockheads with his thumb, and Gev shuddered. “Cruel bastard.” “Maybe a little.” Lee caught Gev’s lips again with his own, silencing him. He tasted good, faintly of the gum they’d had earlier. Delicious. Lee reached behind Gev and grabbed his ass, fingers scraping across the cheek. Gev broke away from Lee’s mouth and buried his head in the crook of Lee’s shoulder, his hand joining Lee’s on his cock. Their breathing came hard and noisy, the shower drowning out the sound, though Lee wasn’t sure he gave a damn. He had to fight to keep the rhythm, keep standing, holding Gev up as his legs all but gave way. “Move your hand,” Lee ordered, and Gev did so, his body taut and humming like the strings of Lee’s guitar. Lee stroked him. He wanted to get Gev off, their faces and bodies pressed so close like this, thighs straining, Gev’s beautiful body his, at least for this moment, this brief, furious moment. “Oh, God, Lee. Fuck!” Gev screwed his eyes shut and twisted his head to the side as Lee sped up, varying the firmness of his grip, his thumb playing over Gev’s cock slit. He was relentless, not giving Gev a second to deal with what he was doing. He couldn’t take his eyes off Gev’s face, drinking in and relishing how deeply Gev exposed himself, shameless and eager. Possessed. Gev’s body tensed, his eyes shot open, and he came hard in Lee’s hand, hips thrusting, each burst pumping Lee up further. Gev gasped, moving his head from side to side, his entire body shaking. His eyes locked with Lee’s, not moving away even as the aftershocks of his orgasm rippled through him. He showed it all to Lee, sharing it with him. It was the most beautiful sight Lee had ever seen.

140

Carolyn Gray

“Your turn,” Gev said breathlessly and pushed off the wall, then yanked Lee around so he was the one against the wall. And then Gev dropped to his knees. “Fuck,” Lee ground out as Gev held Lee’s hips still and took him into his mouth. Lee stared down in fascination, but all sense of control fled as Gev sucked and licked and pulled at his cock, one hand toying with his balls, teasing him, playing with him in a way Lee had never experienced in his life. He smacked his hands against the wall, then reached out to sink his fingers into Gev’s hair, gripping his head, unable to keep quiet. Fucking hell, he hoped Trish was still in the kitchen. But he didn’t give a damn about that—about anything besides the hot mouth on his cock, the hand squeezing his balls, the other hand snaking around to play with his ass. Gev knew what the hell he was doing. There was no holding it back then, and with a groan, gripping Gev’s head lest he get some crazy idea of pulling away, Lee came hard, shoving into Gev’s mouth. He took it, moaning around Lee’s cock, riding it out until it was over. Lee was a wrung-out wreck. He reached down and pulled Gev up, not saying anything. He didn’t want to say anything, dammit. Calmer now, he pulled Gev with him into the shower and kissed him gently as the still-warm water flowed over their heated bodies. Gev wrapped his arms around Lee, and Lee did the same, holding him now, rocking him a little. It felt so good, so damn good. And so damn right. Gev was his. His. Ever since he’d first seen Gev on that stage—that was only a few days ago?—he’d wanted him. It freaked out Lee a little, the thought of what would’ve happened if he’d walked away then. Would all the rest of the week’s horrors have happened still? He pushed the thought aside; he wouldn’t think of that now. He slid one hand up Gev’s chest, up his neck, and cradled his face. Gev pulled back, a worried look in his eyes, but Lee bent and kissed his bruised eye, then his mouth. “Wash your hair?” “Yeah,” Gev said. The water was starting to cool. Lee poured shampoo in his hand and gestured for Gev to do the same. “We better hurry, then.” Gev laughed. Lee liked that sound, the flash of happiness across his face. They both got down to business, washing their hair, taking turns rinsing off. It made Lee think of a wellchoreographed dance, and he guessed it was, in a way. They moved through their motions smoothly, as if they’d been showering together for years. Lee grabbed the soap and started to lather his body, but Gev stole the bar from him and ran it all over Lee’s body, his free hand wiping the soap off. When he reached between Lee’s legs, Lee felt himself responding. Damn cock. Gev ignored Lee’s hissing as he lathered him up and rinsed him off. Finally done tormenting him, Gev turned off the rapidly cooling water. Lee pushed open the door, grabbed the towel Gev had worn, and tossed it at him. “Did Trish see you run up the stairs?” Gev started to dry himself, a guilty look on his face. “I think so. She probably called Drew to tell her all about it.” “They a couple?”

Long Way Home

141

“Yup. Couldn’t you tell?” Warmth and—did he dare think it?—happiness rippled through Lee. “Drew’s probably already back.” “We were that long?” Gev asked as he rubbed the towel over his head. Lee paused to watch, really taking in Gev’s body now. His hands itched; he wanted to explore that body completely, every bit of it. He wanted Gev on his back, his legs pushed up, vulnerable, wanted to take him as hard as he could, watch his face as he felt every inch of Lee’s cock push into him. He wanted to render that beautiful, controlled, perfect body perfectly helpless, completely out of control. Shaking the thought out of his mind—for now—he finished drying off, then looked over at Gev, whose hair was standing up in all directions. Lee stepped closer and pulled Gev against him, still warm but dry now. Gev came to him willingly, sighing with what sounded like wonder, joy, and relief all mixed together. Slightly shorter, Gev fit so well against him. Lee looked at them in the mirror; Gev did the same. “Look good together,” Gev said. Lee frowned, smacking his stomach. He didn’t have the hard body that Gev did, but he wasn’t too bad, he thought. “I better start working out.” “No. I like you like this.” “Fat?” “Uh, cuddly?” Lee rolled his eyes. “We’d better get dressed. Our coffee’s probably cold by now.” “And all the doughnuts gone.” Gev released him. “Shit. My stuff is still downstairs.” Lee opened his bag and dug out a clean T-shirt, boxers, and jeans. “I’ll go get your stuff.” He pulled on his clothes as he watched Gev. “What?” Gev said, then cringed. “I know. I can’t believe I did that either.” “I’m glad you did,” Lee said, meaning it. “You are?” Lee closed the distance between them and cradled Gev’s face between his hands. “I’m glad for everything—for coming here, for whoever sent that damn ticket so I could see you onstage, so amazing, so incredible.” Green eyes searched Lee’s, a proud smile playing across Gev’s lips. “You liked that, huh? You should see me dance solo.” I have. “I’d like that.” “I’ll dance for you when all this madness is over.” Lee dropped his hands but kissed Gev on his unhurt cheek. “It will be over. Soon.” “I hope so,” Gev said, the albatross back between them. “Lee, are you really here?” Lee knew what he meant—Are you really here with me? A pang of sadness that he’d been right about Gev’s worries stabbed him, but he understood it too. “Yeah. I am. I meant it when I said I’m not leaving you, that I’m here for you. No matter what you do or where you go.” Gev looked so unsure of himself. “I’m not sure where I’ll go. I don’t think I can stay here, though.”

142

Carolyn Gray

“What about a different ballet company?” Gev’s lips quirked. “Margot wanted me to audition for the Miami City Ballet. Kind of messed that up.” Even Lee knew the move would be a good one for Gev. Florida—why not? “Surely under the circumstances…?” “Probably. But what about your wor—” Lee stopped him. “No. We’ll worry about the future and everything later. We’ll figure it out.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a comb. “I’ll be right back. Unless you want to come on downstairs with me…” “No,” Gev said. “I’ll wait. I’ve given Trish enough to lord over me already.” They both had, and Lee didn’t regret a second of it. He trotted down the stairs, glad Trish wasn’t nearby to see him. He gathered Gev’s things, then headed back upstairs as she was coming inside with Drew. They were talking about something, and Drew caught his eye. “There you are. Done? Doughnuts and coffee are here.” “Be right back.” He continued upstairs to the bathroom. “They see you?” “Yeah, Drew did.” “You should stay in here till I get dressed,” Gev said. “Why?” He put his duffel on the counter and unzipped it. “She’ll hit you with a thousand questions if you go down there now.” “That’s all right. I can handle it. Maybe she can help.” He reached out and rubbed Gev’s cheek. “You can use my razor.” “You don’t like me rough?” Gev asked, such an innocent expression on his face, for a second Lee thought he was referring to something else. Lee raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen rough yet.” He gave Gev a quick kiss. “I’ll go on down.” “Don’t eat my cinnamon roll.” Lee closed the door behind himself and headed downstairs, slower this time, unable to believe how lucky he was. When he walked into the kitchen, Drew eyed him. “Where’s Gev?” “Shaving. He’ll be down in a minute.” She had that predatory smile only lawyers seemed to know how to use. “Fantastic. I can ask you some questions, then. If you don’t mind.” He took a cup of coffee. “Don’t mind at all. We were hoping you could help us.” “Good. So, I was thinking—have you considered that this hoodie guy you keep seeing might not be trying to hurt Gev but trying to warn him?”

Long Way Home

143

Chapter Seventeen Gev really, really didn’t know what had possessed him to send that picture, but he was damn glad he had. As Lee went back downstairs, Gev used Lee’s razor. It was stainless steel and quite nice, not your standard throwaway. He was enough of a romantic to entertain the thought of having a home with Lee, sharing a bathroom, a razor—but two toothbrushes, of course. He found his phone where Lee had tucked it in the duffel bag. He opened the picture that Lee had sent of himself, then saved it. That was one game he would start again, someday. He checked for missed calls—one, from Nina. Calling back, he got her voice mail and left a message: “Hey, it’s me. I’m okay. We’re at Drew and Trish’s. Call me back later.” He started to hang up, but an idea punched into his mind. “See if you can get Stefan’s journal without Mom knowing, okay? I want to see it. Love you, and everything’s okay. Very okay,” he added, then hit End. Nina would jump on that last part. He dressed quickly and finger-combed his hair into its usual messy disarray. He looked seriously relaxed; sex with Lee had been amazing. He was still tired and hungry, but for a little while, the pervasive fear slamming him had gone away. Lee’s promise to fuck him later was definitely going to make the day drag. Lee topping him? He’d fantasized that scenario over the years often enough, but damn, he’d never thought… Bracing himself on the counter, he stared at his reflection. His upper cheekbone and around his eye were a lovely shade of purplish green. After a quick cleanup, Gev grabbed his duffel and set it outside the bathroom, then headed down the stairs. Voices wafted up to him. Lee was sitting on the edge of the couch, a doughnut and a mug of coffee on the table in front of him, as he talked animatedly to Drew, who had curled up into one of the chairs along with the dog. “…even China a couple of times, but Nick always hates going there.” “Oh, why?” Drew said, one hand absently petting the dog, who was the only one who’d noticed Gev stood at the bottom of the stairs. “I think it would be fascinating to experience a culture so diverse from our own.” “It is to me, though I’m hungry the entire time.” Trish walked in then, but her attention was on their conversation. She set down some napkins. “Why, no McDonald’s there?” “Doesn’t taste like ours. Fortunately, Nick always brings his own chef with us, so we never really starve. He had a hard time filling his ingredients list in South Korea, though.” Drew looked up. “There he is.” Lee turned and saw him. Their gazes locked for a moment, and a hot thrill sizzled through Gev. He gathered himself and entered the den.

144

Carolyn Gray

“So, Gev,” Trish said as she started to sit next to Lee. Drew made a sound, and Trish moved to the other chair. She plopped down in it and curled up much like her girlfriend had. “Have a good shower?” “Sounded like he did,” Drew said, unsuccessfully hiding her grin behind her coffee cup. Gev felt his face heating as he looked at Lee, who’d sat back on the couch, doughnut in hand. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” “Hope you guys left some hot water.” “Oh shit,” Gev said. Lee’s amused gaze caught his. Drew smirked at him. “Oh, don’t look so mortified. It’ll heat back up. Sit down.” Lee said, “Trish tells me this house has lousy soundproofing.” “Great.” Gev sank onto the couch next to Lee. Drew watched him, her gaze questioning. “So, what are you guys talking about?” “Touring,” Trish said, popping back up. “Let me get you some coffee.” She darted into the kitchen, then called, “You like yours black, right?” “I’ll take some milk if you have it.” “Sure.” Khyra hopped off the chair she’d been sharing with Drew. The dog scooted between Lee and the coffee table, hopped up on the other side of Gev, and looked at him expectantly as Trish returned, the box of doughnuts in her hand. She set it on the table. “That cinnamon roll is yours,” Drew said. “I got it special for you, you know.” “Thank you. I’ll get it in a second.” He took the mug Trish offered him, sipped, and relished the warmth pouring down his throat. The dog eyed him—or, rather, his cinnamon roll. He pulled it away. “Get your own, dog.” Drew picked up a doughnut, then tossed the dog a piece on the floor. “Leave him alone, Khyra. Sorry. She’s such a moocher.” “That’s why she’s so fat,” Trish said. “I told you we should put her on a diet.” “You’re the one who feeds her crap like doughnuts!” Drew pouted. “But she loves them. Don’t you, baby?” she said to the dog as she pinched off another bit of doughnut and tossed it. Khyra snapped the doughnut out of midair and swallowed it so fast, there was no way she could’ve tasted it. She whipped her head from Drew to Gev to Lee and whined. “Horrible manners,” Trish said, pulling Khyra away. “Go on, to the kitchen. We don’t need the likes of you around here.” “Meanie,” Drew muttered, but she set down the rest of the doughnut and picked up a pen and notepad that Gev hadn’t noticed. Her expression grew serious as she looked from him to Lee. Much as her dog had. He caught Lee’s eye and dropped his gaze to his coffee as he took another sip. “Okay, so,” Drew said, settling back with the notepad on her thigh. “Start telling me everything you can remember, Gev. I’ve already got Lee’s take on a few things. I want to see what you have.” “You told her everything? From the start?”

Long Way Home

145

“I told her about the—” Drew rapped her pen against the pad. “No, don’t help him.” “Did you call the detective?” Gev asked Lee. “She’s glad to know we’re somewhere safe. She’ll call later.” “Was she pissed at us for leaving?” Lee put his hand out and teetered it back and forth. “A little.” “She yelled at him,” Trish said. Great. “She’s been with the case from the beginning, ever since Stefan disappeared.” “Has the case been active all this time?” asked Drew. “No, actually it hasn’t. After Stef disappeared, nothing else happened, and then Lee lef—” Lee remained expressionless. Gev wondered if Lee had told Drew about that. “The case went into limbo, but she didn’t close it. She kept in touch with my parents for a while, but as usual…” He looked at Trish then. She’d met his mother several times. “As usual, my mom went nuts and told Detective Ramirez to leave us alone.” “She didn’t, though, did she?” Trish said. Drew looked like she was going to thump Trish, but a look from Trish quelled her. “No. She came to me one day at school, told me she hadn’t given up.” He hesitated, not really wanting to say what she had told him. This thing with Lee was still too new, too raw and fragile, despite Lee’s conviction that they would work things out. Gev cleared his throat. “She told me she didn’t think Stef was dead.” Drew looked up from her notepad. “Really?” Beside him, Lee stiffened but didn’t say anything. Gev couldn’t look at him, didn’t dare to. “Yeah. Because they never found a body.” “So he was never pronounced dead in absentia?” “No. Mom wouldn’t let them.” “So tell me about when Lee showed up, after all this started. Everything you can think of.” “Detective Ramirez knows all this, you know,” Gev said. Drew waved her pen. “I know, and I’m a consumer-rights attorney. But”—she pointed at him with the pen—“you are not that much different from my usual client. You’re a good citizen pulled into a mess not of your own making, and you’re suffering for it. You never know—fresh eyes might help out. Besides,” she said, her gaze softening, the fierce persona he thought of as her lawyer face pushed aside for a moment, “I care about you. And you too, Lee, because he cares about you. This is the strangest mess I’ve ever come across, even back when I was in criminal law.” “I didn’t know you were ever in criminal law,” Trish said, clearly surprised. Drew reached for Trish’s hand and squeezed. “I know. I never told you, because it didn’t last long.” She grimaced. “I lasted six months. Thank the stars Jason’s dad’s firm had an opening.” “You hate guns,” Trish pointed out.

146

Carolyn Gray

“Yeah. I think I just forget about that time. It was scary as hell. I always was so scared one of the criminals we were representing would decide he didn’t like how we were doing things and would get his buddies to off us or something.” Gev startled when Lee shifted to drape his arm along the back of the couch, creating a comforting weight against Gev’s shoulders. He shifted slightly, leaning more into Lee. “So,” Drew said, “what else can you tell me?” Gev picked up his coffee and drained it. Trish nodded questioningly at the mug in his hand, and he gave her a smile of thanks as she took it and went to get him more. He was damn grateful they’d run into Trish and Drew, of all the people he knew in the gayborhood. He settled back, Lee’s hand draping over his shoulder, and dredged up everything he could think of while the others listened. There was one thing, though, that he didn’t mention—Stefan’s journal, how he suspected his mom never told the police about it. He would tell Lee about it later, after he’d had a chance to look at it himself. After a while, he ran out of things to say. Drew tapped the notepad. “Any ideas?” Gev asked. “Other than you guys are in one fucked-up, bizarre mess? Not yet.” She gave Lee a piercing look that made Gev wonder if something had come up when Lee talked to her alone, while he was shaving. But he was too tired to figure out what it could be. Despite the coffee—of which he’d had at least three cups—he could feel himself sinking deeper into exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Lee and sleep for twelve hours straight. It wasn’t even noon yet. He yawned, the conversation having been taken back over by Lee as they returned to the subject of foreign countries and touring with a band—which was very different from what it was like to tour with a ballet company. Gev’s eyes closed, and he let them. He felt Lee rubbing his arm as his head lolled toward Lee’s chest. “Gev, you should go upstairs, take a nap.” “No, I’d rather stay here,” he mumbled, brushing his hair from his face and then letting his hand fall. He was so tired, he barely registered that it fell onto Lee’s leg. “I’ll get him a pillow and blanket,” Trish said. “How much sleep have you had since Sunday, Gev?” He opened his eyes. “I don’t know, six hours? Seven?” He closed his eyes again, heard Drew get up. Lee pushed Gev’s head onto his shoulder. The rise and fall of Lee’s chest felt so damn good. Gev had started to doze when a blanket fell over him. “You sure you want to sit there with him?” Trish said, her voice hushed. “For a little while. Yeah.” Gev liked the rumble of Lee’s voice, deep in his chest. “We’re having friends over tonight, so we’re going to run to the store,” she said. Keys jingled. Drew’s voice. “The dog will alert you if there’s anyone but us around. We’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?” “Thanks,” Lee said. “We’ll be fine.”

Long Way Home

147

Something pushed against the back of the couch. Gev twitched as hair tickled his face, and he felt Trish’s kiss. She was always doing that; Drew never did. He opened his eyes briefly, and she patted his cheek. “Take care of him, Lee,” she said. “I will.” “You’d better,” Drew said. “Trish is all rainbows and fluffy clouds, but she’ll tear apart anyone who hurts Gev, if she can.” Lee chuckled at that, but Gev knew she was serious. That was what he loved about his friends. Then they were gone, locking the door behind them. Once they were alone, Gev yawned. “I probably should go upstairs,” he mumbled against Lee’s chest. Lee ran his hand over Gev’s head. “If you’re sure.” Gev sat up reluctantly. “Yeah. If I don’t get some real sleep soon, I’m not going to be of any use to anyone.” “Go. I’ll be down here.” “You sure you don’t mind?” “No. I’ve got some phone calls to make anyway. Then I might take a nap myself.” “Down here?” “Yeah, my snoring might bother you.” Gev looked at him suspiciously. “You are kidding about the snoring, I hope.” “Honestly? Yeah.” Smacking his shoulder playfully, Gev left him and headed upstairs. He grabbed his duffel and went to the spare room, which was at the opposite end of the hallway from Trish and Drew’s. He pushed open the door and dropped the bag. He’d always liked this room, with its giant pineapple-carved four-poster, the hand-quilted yellow blanket spread over the top of a thick mattress, and too many pillows, most of which he tossed onto the small couch in the corner. The room also held Drew’s bookshelves, filled to overcapacity with law books as well as research books on all kinds of subjects from fishing to ballet, several of which he’d given her. He’d whiled away many an hour here whenever she and Trish needed a dog-sitter. Someday, he intended to have a collection like this, he thought as he ran his fingertips over the spines of some of the books. Someday, when he had a home again. With Lee? God, he hoped so. Drew owned every book that must exist about Shakespeare, along with an amazing collection of Russian biographies, nonfiction, and poetry; she also spoke the language fluently. He envied her that. She’d suggested he just take up Russian himself. “Should come easily to you. It’s in your blood, after all.” Spanish hadn’t, but then, that wasn’t in his blood, so who knew? After yanking off his jeans and shirt, he closed the door, then the curtains, making the room as dark as possible. He drew the covers back and slid between the cool, soft sheets. He pulled them up and let himself sink into the pillows as he closed his eyes. Sleep didn’t come immediately, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between him and Lee. He was like a lovestruck teenager all over again. It amazed him how at ease he was with Lee all

148

Carolyn Gray

of a sudden. It felt good. He almost—almost—believed it would last beyond this mess. His track record wasn’t that good with relationships, but then again, that was because he had always compared every guy he met to Lee. Turning on his side, Gev willed his mind to blank. For right now, at least, everything was okay. He was safe, Lee was downstairs, and no one knew where he was. He hoped.

**** Lee yawned as he tucked his cell back in his pocket and stretched out on the couch. It’d been good to talk to Brandon for a while, let him know what was going on. Lee still had a hell of a lot of regret for how he’d treated him, though Brandon had forgiven him. Still, it’d been Nick he’d hoped to get hold of, but he’d been out. He’d also called Margot. She’d left a message for him, wondering if he’d heard from Gev, worried because he wasn’t answering his phone. The last call Lee had made was to Detective Ramirez. He’d wanted to wait until he was alone to talk to her and see if they’d managed to figure out anything else. The answer had been no. He hated hiding things from Gev, and he suspected Drew knew he was doing so. He plumped the pillow under his head. He’d rather have been upstairs, but Gev needed undisturbed sleep and lots of it. Lee wasn’t sure he’d give that to Gev if he joined him. Better to stay down here. Khyra jumped on the couch at his feet, forcing him to curl up a bit. He didn’t mind. He should get a dog, maybe. Gev had a cat… He knew his tired thoughts were getting ahead of things, but for the first time in a while, he kind of thought a real home, not some hotel room, would be nice to have. This house was nice; the brief glimpse of Gev’s had impressed him too. He didn’t have a lot, but he had more than Lee did. Lee wasn’t sure how long he’d dozed before the dog woofed quietly at his feet, then jumped off the couch. Seconds later, the back door opened, and Trish came in, carrying some bags. He got up and went into the kitchen, feeling kind of awkward again. “Need help?” “Please. Drew needed to run into the office for a few hours and left me to get everything ready.” “I’ll help.” “She was counting on it,” Trish said. “If you’ll empty the car, I’ll start putting stuff away.” Lee did as she asked. It felt good to do something useful. And there were a lot of groceries. “You said you were having a party tonight?” He put the last bag down as he closed the door. “What’s the occasion?” “It’s a just-because party, started out to invite a few friends over. Gev.” She hesitated. “Chad. Manny, some of Drew’s coworkers we like. We went on an Alaskan cruise, and Drew wants to force them to see all the pictures she took.” Trish pulled several boxes of party crackers out of a bag. “If you’ll empty that into the fridge?” she said, pointing to a bag full of vegetables. “Or if you want, you can make the vegetable plate.” “Been a while since I’ve done one of those. But sure.” “Fantastic.” She moved quickly, pulling out a knife, cutting board, and tray, then motioning him to the island. “Sit on a stool there, and see what you can do with these.” Lee looked inside the bag—lettuce, little tomatoes, radishes, celery, carrots, cauliflower, sugar snap peas. He pulled them out and started to work. The dog wandered into the kitchen and

Long Way Home

149

sat at his feet as Trish turned on some music. She made them both iced tea and tossed some biscuits to the dog. Lee found himself relaxing, enjoying the mindlessness of cutting up vegetables while Trish talked about the people coming that night, where she and Drew had been, about Khyra, anything. Anything but what he and Gev were dealing with, which he appreciated. “You’re a teacher?” he asked at one point. “Was. I quit this year. I’m a kept woman, and I like it.” He didn’t doubt that. “You don’t miss teaching?” “Sometimes, but not as much as I thought I might. It’s really quite a full-time job, taking care of Drew.” “How so?” he asked, arranging celery neatly in rows. “She’s diabetic and tends not to take care of herself as well as she should. She’s a workaholic, driven, like Gev.” She’d made some chocolate-chip cookie dough and started to plunk blobs on a cookie sheet. “Catch!” She tossed him some dough. He hesitated. “Go on. Eat it.” He did as she said, and it was absolutely fantastic. “I never think about eating it like this.” “You’ve never eaten cookie dough?” she said, incredulous. “Once or twice, at St—” He stopped himself, hating the slip. “Gev’s mom used to make cookies every once in a while, but she wouldn’t let us eat the dough.” Trish watched him for a moment. “Drew might not let on, but she’s ecstatic that you’re here. She’s a huge Dream fan.” She gave him a sly look. “Any chance your friend Nick is coming back to Dallas?” “Possible, actually. I called a while ago to let him know what’s going on, but he wasn’t home. He’ll call back.” Her eyes lit up. “Would he talk to Drew, do you think?” “Of course. He loves talking to people. He’s a great guy. Both he and Brandon are.” “I always preferred Brandon myself.” “Don’t tell Nick that.” “Are you kidding? I don’t even dare tell Drew that. I know how to keep a relationship happy. When Nick disappeared, Drew was beside herself. You would’ve thought she was thirteen again, she was so devastated.” “She wasn’t alone in that,” he said softly. “It must’ve been hard for you.” He looked straight into her eyes. “It was the worst time, for all of us.” Lee set the knife down and took a deep breath. He liked Trish, was comfortable with her, glad they’d ended up here. “I thought I’d never have to live through anything like that again, but here it is. Again. Someone I care about is in danger, and we don’t know why. The only difference is, Gev is safe.” “He is safe here. I promise that. Drew was on the phone the entire time we were out shopping, calling everyone. The neighbors know to look for anything suspicious. We got hold of Manny—he owns the coffee shop and is one of Gev’s best friends here—and oh yeah, by the way,” she said, eyeing him, “seems someone donated money to cover funeral expenses for Chad’s friend. No one knows who it was, Manny said, but the family was grateful. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

150

Carolyn Gray

“Is this enough carrots, do you think?” She watched him silently, then said, “Half these people are vegan. More.” She reached across the island countertop to touch his hand. “You’re a good man, Lee Nelson.” “Not really. Not as good as I could be.” “We all could be better. Do you mind if I ask you something?” He hesitated. “Sure.” “When you were talking to Drew earlier, I was watching your face. There’s something you didn’t tell us, isn’t there? Something you don’t want Gev to know about.” Lee nearly dropped the knife. “I don’t know what you mean.” She leaned forward, eyeing him with such intensity, he found himself leaning back. “I taught ninth-graders for thirteen years. I learned early that when a kid says, ‘I don’t know what you mean’—or rather, ‘what you talkin’ ’bout?’—something is up.” Lee cursed mentally. He’d escaped the lawyer, but now the teacher had him pegged. It felt like days since he’d had to pull a poker face, but he did so now. “No, there’s nothing.” Her gaze didn’t waver, but she tilted her head to the side a bit and raised one eyebrow. She knew he was lying. “Nothing I can say right now, at least,” he admitted with quite a bit of reluctance. But it was killing him not to tell Gev about what he and Detective Ramirez had talked about. She sat back, folding her arms. “And why not?” He took a deep breath, hating this, hating that she’d nailed him for it. He was glad Gev was upstairs, fast asleep. “I’ve been asked not to,” he said evenly. “By the cops?” “Yeah.” She dropped her arms and scowled, then reached over and grabbed one of the carrot sticks. “Why did they tell you in the first place, then?” “I don’t know,” he said, lowering his voice. Not that Gev could hear—he would be out for hours yet. “I wish she hadn’t said a damn thing to me, but she wanted me to be aware.” He grimaced. “Not that that helped keep him from nearly getting hit.” She tapped the countertop with the carrot stick. “Maybe she told you to see your reaction, to see if you knew what was going on.” He hadn’t thought of that. “To see if I was hiding anything from her?” “Sure. That’s how they work. What did you tell her?” “The truth. That I didn’t know what she was talking about.” More specifically, that he had no idea if the guy in the hoodie was Stefan. Had she thought he might? Thought he knew if Stef was alive? “Fucking hell,” he said. “I think you’re right. She was testing me.” She bit into the carrot stick. “Yup, sounds like it.” “Damn.” Now he didn’t know what to do. She pressed her lips into a line. “I hope whatever it is that you’re hiding from him amounts to nothing. If it does turn out to be important, and he learns you didn’t tell him, it could damage his trust in you.” He picked up the knife, grabbed another carrot, and sliced it in two. There wasn’t much he could say to that.

Long Way Home

151

Chapter Eighteen The chirp of a text message woke Gev. He blinked, reluctantly lifted his head from the pillows, and tried to discern his surroundings in the dark, confused as to where he was, though his memory quickly slotted into place. He thumped his head back into the pillows and sighed. With a yawn, he reached for his cell to check who’d texted him. He wasn’t one who used his phone a lot. He didn’t even carry it all the time, and his friends, most of whom were dancers themselves, knew he kept it turned off a lot of the time. They all did—rehearsals and practice were no places for cell phones. And since normally they were always doing one or the other, or sleeping, or were together anyway, he simply didn’t use it much. It was Nina, texting in response to his voice mail. Her message made him smile: Got it. You can call me Kissing Kate. He texted her back to call him in the morning. It was, to his surprise, almost seven p.m. He’d been passed out for hours, and from the sound of the voices and music wafting into the room, there were people here having a good time. With Lee. He liked the idea of that. He wondered what Lee thought of his ordinary life, his ordinary friends. Okay, maybe not so ordinary life right now. There was no reason to lie there any longer. He threw the covers aside and stood, but with his mother’s voice in his mind, he made the bed back neat again. He pulled on his shirt and jeans, opened the door, and padded down the hallway to peek downstairs. Not too many people, maybe ten or twelve, but he knew them all. Manny walked out from the kitchen, two drinks in hand. He looked up and saw Gev. “There’s the man!” “Gev, come on down,” Georgie, who owned the bookstore across from Manny’s place, called out. “In a sec.” He didn’t see Lee. He hadn’t left, had he? Silly thought, but Gev wouldn’t blame him, tossed into this mess as he’d been. Gev went into the bathroom to take a piss, fix his hair, brush his teeth, and then headed down the stairs. “Hey.” Georgie greeted him with a big hug. “Have a seat,” said Gary, his partner, patting the couch. “Uh, hold on a second,” Gev said, then said hello to some of the others, accepting the hugs offered and assuring all he was fine, he was okay, yeah. Thankfully, only one or two said something about Chad, though he knew they’d likely already talked about him. Manny appeared magically at his elbow and handed him a drink as he leaned close to mutter in Gev’s ear, “Your man’s out back.” The relief must’ve shown on Gev’s face. “Boy, he’s got you smitten, don’t he?” “Shut up,” Gev said, unable to keep from beaming. He sipped his drink and made a face. “What is this?”

152

Carolyn Gray

Manny peered into the glass. “Oh, sorry. That’s mine.” He held out the other drink. “Want this one?” “Nah, I’ll make one.” Gev moved into the kitchen, where Trish was getting snacks ready. The whole island was covered with food, including a huge vegetable plate. He grabbed a carrot. Trish turned from what she was doing and saw him. “Hey, there. Sleep well?” Gev ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I think I barely moved.” Gev looked out the window. “Good. Yes, he’s out there somewhere,” she added, motioning toward the back door. “What’s he doing out there?” “Talking on the phone to his friends, I think. Drew got to talk to Nick.” “Really? I bet she loved that.” “She went to the store to get more ice, but I think she likely flew there.” She peered into his drink. “You want something different?” “Yeah, this is horrid.” She smirked. “Manny made it. There’s water, juice. Coke if you want it.” “I’ll take a coke,” he said, reaching for the fridge. He pulled one out, opened it, and took a long gulp. “Damn, that’s good.” He wiped his mouth. “I’d forgotten how good.” “What, you never drink cokes? At all?” “No, water.” “Purist.” He looked through the window again. “Guilty.” “Oh, go on out there with him. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” Gev felt a little sheepish. “Thanks. I don’t know how to thank—” “Oh, stop.” She came around and hugged him, then held him back to study his face. “Are you sure about this? You and Lee?” “How do you mean?” he said, confused. “Nothing, really. It seems kind of funny that he was gone all these years, and then suddenly he’s sticking to you like glue.” “I tried to get rid of him,” he admitted. “Told him he should leave, but he refused.” “Stefan the reason he stayed away all these years?” she asked. He leaned against the counter. “My mom made sure he knew he wasn’t welcome, both back then and when we went over to tell them about Chad.” “Why isn’t he welcome there? He was a kid when that happened. It wasn’t his fault.” He grimaced and took another sip of the coke. It fizzled in his stomach, and he knew he would regret this, but it really was good. “Tell her that. She was always weird about Lee.” “Maybe she suspected something was going on between them.” “You scare me sometimes.” “I’ve seen parents do stupid things, unbelievable things, to their kids. If your mom found out things were going on—and they were, right?” He hesitated, then nodded. “She’ll probably always resent, if not all-out hate, Lee. She could make life miserable for you, you know.”

Long Way Home

153

“I know,” he said softly. But he wouldn’t stand for it. He needed to read that journal and then confront her. If that didn’t resolve things, he was done with her. “Well, go on out there.” She pointed at his feet. “It’s starting to get chilly out. Don’t you want your shoes?” He pulled her into a hug. “I’m okay. I am so glad you’re around to look out for me,” he said and gave her a kiss. The door opened, and Drew came in, carrying a bag of ice. “Hey. Whoa, there. That’s my woman, dude.” “Sorry, sorry.” Gev let Trish go, took the ice from Drew, and set it in the sink. Then he grabbed her and kissed her too, making her squeal and bat at him. “Assault! Assault! I am gay! Boy cooties! Stop!” As she tried to smack him, he darted away, grabbed his coke, and escaped outside. Behind him, he heard Trish forbid Drew to follow, and then they closed the door. Standing on the back stoop, he scanned the backyard. Trish and Drew were lucky; they had a pretty sizeable lot, with lots of trees and bushes. At first, all he saw was Khyra darting in and out of shadows. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, as the only light into the treeshaded yard was coming from the kitchen window. “Lee?” he called out. “Back here.” Gev crossed the October grass, cool beneath his bare feet. Lee wasn’t on the phone—he was at the back of the yard, almost hidden in the shadows, sitting on top of a picnic table and apparently throwing a ball for the dog. He had the ball in his hand but threw it when he saw Gev. Khyra took off running. Gev joined him, climbing up on the picnic table. “Sleep good?” “I think I passed out the second I lay down. You okay?” “Yeah.” Khyra ran up and plunked her feet on the bench, chomping on the ball in her mouth, begging Lee to throw it again. He reached for it, and she pulled back, then let him take it. “Ready?” Khyra bounced down and whirled around in a circle. Lee threw the ball again. Silence fell between them. Gev realized he was nervous. “Lee—” he started, but at that second, Lee turned to him, cupped Gev’s face, and kissed him. Relief flooded through him. He sank into the kiss, clutching at Lee until he pulled back. “Come here,” Lee said, tugging Gev off the picnic table. Gev was confused, then realized what Lee wanted. A shiver ran through him as he slid between the bench and table, between Lee’s thighs, and rested his hands on them, his cock pushing against the edge of the table. He wished Lee would scoot forward. And then he did, pressing into Gev’s crotch, sending Gev into raging hunger as he felt Lee’s cock twitch against his own despite the layers of clothing. Hot, hot, hot. Damn. He was going to hyperventilate if Lee didn’t kiss him again. Lee slid one hand around Gev’s head and drew him closer. For a long moment, he just looked at Gev, the near darkness shielding them, though the light from the house was enough for Gev to see his glittering dark eyes. Lee’s silence made him squirm. His breath quickened; his cock throbbed, trapped in his jeans. Lee looked at him, his breath even, his gaze caressing Gev’s face with steady thoroughness, as if he were studying and memorizing every inch. Lee’s thumb moved over Gev’s lips; he opened his mouth, capturing Lee’s thumb, sucked it, tasted it, the roughness of it. Claimed it.

154

Carolyn Gray

Fucking hell, he was turned on, losing himself, closing his eyes as he sucked on Lee’s thumb, his face heating as he knew that that intense gaze hadn’t wavered. Lee pulled his thumb out, making Gev’s eyes fly open. Lee grinned almost ferally. Gev dropped his head. Lee tipped up his chin and held him again, and Gev was trapped, caught between Lee’s hand and his steady gaze. Words were definitely not necessary now as Lee’s mouth captured his, devoured him, lips soft yet demanding, forcing Gev to give in to whatever Lee wanted. A thrill raced through him, a surge of happiness and excitement—he loved how Lee took command, feeding his basic desire to be dominated like this. Oh hell yes. Lee’s free hand reached behind Gev, lifted his shirt, and slid into his jeans, cupping Gev’s backside. Gev rutted against him, desperate to be free of his clothes. Lee dug his fingers into Gev’s backside. Damn, he liked doing that. Lee paused with a laugh of surprise. “What?” Gev said, then saw Khyra was back, ball in mouth. She jumped up on the bench and pushed it at Lee’s arm. Gev took it, not wanting Lee to move his hand, and threw it. “Pest.” “Me or the dog?” Lee said, tightening his grip and making Gev fall against him. “Both, definitely,” Gev said hoarsely. Lee touched his forehead against Gev’s. “You don’t mind.” “Nope.” Lee removed his hand. For a heartbeat, Gev was disappointed, but then Lee moved his fingers around to the front of Gev’s jeans and unzipped them, making Gev drop his head to Lee’s shoulder in shock. “Lee,” he gasped out as Lee pushed aside Gev’s boxers and found him, stiff and weeping. “Fuck.” He groaned as Lee rubbed his thumb over Gev’s cockhead, toying with his foreskin. Lee turned his head and nipped Gev’s neck. Gev’s legs turned to Jell-O, totally melting as Lee’s hand, hot and slightly rough, rubbed up and down his shaft, capturing the moisture leaking from the tip. He pushed into Lee’s hand, half scared someone would catch them but not really giving a damn, either. Khyra came back, but Lee’s “Go on” sent her away. Gev loved obedient dogs. He sank his fingers into Lee’s shoulders, losing himself to what Lee was doing. Thank God no one but Trish and Drew knew they were out there. All thoughts fled as Lee pulled Gev’s jeans down around his hips, then turned him around so he was leaning back against Lee, his arms wrapped around Lee’s legs. He gasped as Lee pulled his shirt up, one hand moving to tweak Gev’s nipple while the other hand stroked Gev’s shaft freely, firmly, thumb skating over the tip. It was wicked and wanton and the hottest thing Gev had ever done. His balls crawled up into him from the chill, and almost as if Lee knew, his hand slid down to hold them, testing their weight. His fingers, hot and rough, felt incredible. A breeze chilled the air, and the cold grass beneath his bare feet tickled, but Gev didn’t care. He tilted his head toward Lee, and Lee met his mouth, let Gev kiss him almost desperately as his hands continued to play. He released the one nipple and caressed Gev’s stomach, fingers playing over his muscles as they explored the lines of his body, then slid up to his other nipple to pinch it so hard that a loud groan escaped him.

Long Way Home

155

Lee quickened the pace as he pulled on Gev, and Gev lost all awareness then; it was only him, cradled and helpless against Lee’s chest, Lee stroking him faster and more firmly, demanding his release. “Come for me,” Lee whispered hotly into his neck. It should’ve sounded silly, but all Gev wanted to do was obey. Lee varied his strokes, teasing him, the unexpected rhythm messing with Gev’s mind as he tried vainly to handle what Lee was doing to him. But it was useless to try. With a cry that Lee muffled with his own mouth, Gev pumped hard into Lee’s hand, wanting this to last, dammit, but he couldn’t hold on any longer. He reached the point of explosion and came hard, his cum shooting out into the grass and over Lee’s hand, which kept milking him until he felt as if he would explode again. He collapsed back against Lee, his breath coming in loud gasps. “Fucking hell, fucking hell,” he mumbled, his gaze drawn down to his cock and the hand wrapped around it. He trembled as Lee continued to stroke him, more gently now, as the shudders ripping through him steadied, calmed. Still holding him firmly in hand, Lee turned Gev to face him. Gev started to pull away, but Lee held on, not letting him go. Draping his arms over Lee’s shoulders to brace himself, Gev fought to stand still, his mind whirling, wondering what Lee wanted from him. A groan escaped, and he fisted his hands in Lee’s shirt as Lee ran his fingers over the hypersensitive skin of Gev’s cock, making him squirm. The relentless touching continued until Gev’s legs started to tremble and borderline discomfort had moved to bolts of pleasure-pain rippling straight through his cock. “What the fuck?” he said as Lee finally stopped. Lee wiped his hand using Gev’s boxers, then tucked Gev back in and pulled his jeans up. “Liked that?” “Yes,” Gev whispered. He pulled back and looked at Lee. “I can’t believe I didn’t think you were gay.” The corner of Lee’s mouth lifted. “I tend to keep things under wraps.” “Does anyone know? I mean, besides me. And now Drew and Trish.” Lee’s eyes hooded, and he looked away, then back again. “No.” “Why not? You do work with one of the gayest men in the world.” “I know. I—” He rubbed his hand—the hand that had brought Gev to the best explosion of his life—over his chin. “I have a lot of regrets, and that’s one of them now.” Gev slid his hand down Lee’s thigh. “Don’t you want me to—” “No.” “Why not?” Lee captured him with that gaze again. “I’ll wait until I can take you.” Gev groaned. “Did I mention Chad was always prepared for a good time? I found some lube and condoms in that bag.” “No, you hadn’t mentioned that.”

156

Carolyn Gray

Gev sucked in his breath, let it out in whoosh. “Don’t suppose we can sneak upstairs, do you?” He motioned toward the house. The look that came over Lee’s face stilled him. “Oh, you have to be kidding. Just walk past—” “What would they do? Your friends?” Gev felt his face heat, but damn, what would they do? “Uh, cheer?” Lee slid off the table. “Want to find out?” “You’re joking, right?” Lee pulled Gev up to him. “I want to lose myself in you, forget about everything for a while. I’m tired of being around people.” He kissed Gev. “I want to be with you.” “Okay.” Gev’s knees felt weak. “Maybe if we ran real fast…” Lee kissed him again, lips firm and warm against Gev’s. “No, I plan to walk through that room, proudly dragging you behind me.” Gev gulped at that, his body heating. “Fucking hell.” “You got it.” Lee grabbed his hand and headed for the house. “So much for keeping things under wraps,” Gev muttered. He knew he would never live this one down, though he didn’t much give a damn, even as they entered the house and went through the kitchen with him trailing Lee, who had his hand in a firm grasp. His face had to be bright cherry red. Drew stared after them, then grabbed Trish’s arm, making her turn around and look. They both clapped their hands together in approval. Shut up, he mouthed. Fortunately, no one stopped them; Lee must have had quite the look in his eye. Gev felt the gazes on them. Manny whistled behind them as they started up the stairs, and Gev stopped and made a face at him before Lee yanked on Gev to keep him moving. The second the door shut behind them, Lee’s mouth was on Gev’s, and Gev was pulling at their clothes. He drew back and yanked Lee’s shirt over his head. His own followed suit, and he and Lee raced to strip out of their jeans. In seconds, they were both naked, Lee’s cock hard and thick, a thrill moving through Gev at the thought of riding that thing. “Condom,” Lee demanded. His own cock responding—how could it not?—Gev reached for the duffel, bending over to do so. He nearly fell over as Lee came up behind him, one hand grasping his hip, the other feeling between his legs. “Shit, Lee,” he ground out, bent over and frozen as Lee’s fingers explored him. “Lube.” His hands shaking—hell, he was shaking all over—he unzipped the pouch and pulled out the lube and a condom, then handed both to Lee. “The good stuff,” he said, straightening, but Lee just bent him over again and turned him to brace himself against the bed. Gev stared down at the coverlet, his hands and legs spread. A groan escaped him as Lee’s fingers, the lube coating them now, began to play with his hole. He closed his eyes, tensing, then took a deep breath and called on all his training to force his muscles to relax and open. His cock throbbed; his knees trembled. Fucking hell, having Lee for a boyfriend was going to push him to his limits. The thought made him shudder, made his cock ache for the feel of Lee’s hand again. But Lee’s fingers were busy, lubing him, stretching him—not that Gev needed much. He was an easy bottom, always had been.

Long Way Home

157

He’d never been topped by someone like Lee, though. “You ready?” “Yes. Fuck yes.” Lee reached over and yanked the covers out of the way, then pushed him onto the bed, guiding him so Gev was on all fours. His breathing heavy, he braced himself with one hand on Gev’s back and guided the tip of his cock into Gev, toying with him. Gev concentrated on relaxing, hoping Lee would realize he didn’t have to be easy on him. Lee pushed into him slowly, inch by inch, making Gev groan so loudly, he was damn glad there was music downstairs, even more so as Lee pulled out, then pushed in again, his pace quickening. Then Lee took him, fucking him first on his knees, then pushing him down onto his stomach, cock huge and full in Gev’s ass, never stopping his rhythm as he pulled out, moved Gev around, finally onto his back with his legs held up as Lee pushed into him. Gev watched Lee’s face, almost stoic as he rocked into Gev; it was the hottest thing Gev had ever seen. He pumped his own cock, every plunge Lee took making him cry out a little, feel as if Lee was ripping him apart, and yet he didn’t want it to stop. It was over too quickly for Gev. They both came, and Lee fell heavily on top of him, their breathing calming in tandem. Lee pulled Gev into his arms, curling around him, their heated bodies radiating warmth against the coolness of the room. Gev could feel Lee’s heartbeat against his back. After a few minutes, Lee rolled over and got up, leaving Gev feeling bereft. Lee soon slid back into the bed, a gym towel in his hand. He pushed Gev onto his back and, his dark eyes glittering hungrily, cleaned Gev off, then did the same to himself before tossing the towel back onto their things. On his knees, he moved over Gev, hands on either side of Gev’s shoulders. His gaze was immediately drawn to Lee’s cock, relaxing now. He longed to touch it, hold it. He flicked his gaze at Lee, then reached to do just that, relishing the feel of Lee in his hand. “You’re huge,” Gev said. Lee leaned down to kiss him. “Not disappointed?” “Hell no.” Gev considered his own cock. “You?” “No.” For a second, Gev thought he was going to say something else, but he just held Gev’s gaze again as he had outside. Then, with a quirk of his lips, he fell to the side, reached down, and pulled the covers up their legs. Gev started to turn onto his side, but Lee stopped him, began to stroke his body, fingers trailing up his side, across his chest, straight down the middle, to where Lee flattened his hand on Gev’s stomach. He shivered, twitching beneath Lee’s touch. “You have the most incredible body.” “That’s what you get for having a dancer in your bed.” “I like it.” Gev turned onto his side; this time Lee didn’t stop him, just moved his hand down to Gev’s backside, fingers brushing lightly over the fine hairs, then down around his hip to run one finger up his shaft, which was still refusing to calm down completely. Lee moved closer so their cocks almost touched. “You’re bigger than me,” Gev said. “You’re perfect.”

158

Carolyn Gray

Gev gasped as Lee took him in hand and tugged. “You’re going to keep me worn out, aren’t you?” “I’ll do my best.” “Lee?” “Yes?” “We’re going to figure this out, aren’t we? Somehow, all this is going to get solved, and then we can do whatever we want.” Lee sighed, releasing him, then pulled him close so Gev rested his head on Lee’s chest, their legs entwined. Gev pulled the blanket up the rest of the way, settling into Lee’s bigger frame. “We will. I promise.” Lee yawned. “Sleep now.” “Okay.” They fell silent, Lee’s breathing evening out almost immediately, but sleep came slower to Gev. He had slept through the afternoon, after all. It was a long time before all the fears and worries their short conversation had brought back to the fore dissipated. Finally, long after the music had stopped downstairs and Lee had relaxed his hold, Gev pulled out of Lee’s arms and fell asleep, tucked against his warm body.

Long Way Home

159

Chapter Nineteen The sleep of the dead. That was, Lee decided as he dragged himself up and out of the warmth of the bed, the best way to describe how hard he’d slept. Gev hadn’t moved beyond the twitch of a foot when Lee had peeled himself out of his arms. He sat studying Gev’s face, his naked body. This was the first time he’d ever slept with someone in the real sense of the word. He liked it. He brushed Gev’s hair from his eyes. No, he loved it. He doubted himself now, his decision to spend all of his adult life alone. No home, owning nothing but his clothes, suitcase, guitars, and computer. Brandon had insisted he view their home as his when they weren’t on tour, and he did sleep there, but it was different. It wasn’t his. If he didn’t fuck everything up, maybe he and Gev could get domestic and buy a house somewhere. But not here. Nick would flip. Glancing at his cell, Lee realized there was a voice mail. Detective Ramirez’s number. He grabbed the phone, along with his clothes and toiletries, and headed for the shower. He made a quick job of things, then dialed Ramirez as he finished up. “Detective, you called?” “I need you to come by the station today.” “Sure,” he said, running a comb through his hair. “Is there anything new?” “Maybe. We’re not quite sure. Can you come in alone?” He grimaced. “I guess. If you want me to.” He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell Gev. “I’ll figure something out. I need to take care of the car anyway.” After he hung up, he straightened the bathroom and headed downstairs. Khyra looked up from the couch, wagging her tail. Definitely getting a dog. Drew was in the kitchen, cleaning. He walked in, Khyra on his heels. “She likes you,” Drew said. “Need help?” “Absolutely. We could get used to you being around. Are you always so helpful?” “I try to be.” She finished emptying the dishwasher, then poured him a cup of coffee. “Trish got called in to substitute, so she’s already gone. What are you guys going to do today?” “Not sure, really. We’re kind of in limbo. I need to take care of the rental I left at the police station.” “I can drop you off there, if you like.” “Thanks. That would be good.”

160

Carolyn Gray

“So,” she said, sitting across from him as Trish had the day before, with a similar expression. “What are you and Gev going to do?” “I don’t know, honestly.” “You going to take him away from here? He’s worked hard at the ballet. I’d hate to see him give that up.” “I would never make him do that.” “Good. I didn’t think so. You’re a musician. You know how important it is to him, then.” Lee remembered watching Gev dance. “He’s good. I hope we get all this solved so he can get back to dancing.” Footsteps ran down the stairs, and Gev padded into the kitchen, yawning. “Hey,” he said. “Any more coffee?” “Sure. Help yourself.” Gev did so—took it black, Lee noted. “Damn, that’s good.” “How you feeling?” Drew asked. “Good.” He stretched his neck, then set his mug down. “I’m kinda stiff, though. Really need to work out.” He looked at Lee. “My sister’s coming by this morning. Think I’m going to convince her to take me to the kids’ studio and work out for a while.” And just like that, the solution was handed to Lee. “Probably do you good. I can go back to the police station and get the car taken care of.” If Lee didn’t know better, he would have thought Gev looked relieved. He hoped Gev didn’t have regrets about the night before. Lee sure didn’t. He stood, walked around to Gev, and bent down to kiss him. Gev’s return kiss reassured him like nothing else could’ve. Drew put her cup into the sink. “I’ll be ready in a minute, Lee. I’m going to drop him off at the station,” she added to Gev. “Oh, good,” Gev said. “We’ll meet back here later, then.” As soon as Drew had gone upstairs, Lee snaked his arm around Gev and pulled him close. “You good?” Lee murmured. “Yeah.” Gev dropped his gaze, smiling shyly. “A little sore, maybe,” he whispered, rubbing his backside and making Lee laugh. “When is Nina going to be here?” “I’m about to call her. Want a shower first.” He breathed in Lee’s scent. “You already did. You should’ve woken me.” “Sorry. I was hoping you would sleep longer.” Gev rolled his shoulders, moving his neck around. “I feel as if I’ve had too much now. You going to talk to Ramirez?” Lee covered his hesitation. “Yeah. I’ll try and get some ideas about cleaning your place, who to call.” “Good.” Gev ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’ll pay for it. I bet they charge a lot.” “I’ll take care of it.” “No, you don’t—”

Long Way Home

161

Lee had expected this talk to come eventually. He fully intended to pay for it so Gev didn’t have to worry about it. It would be expensive; Gev was right about that. “I know. We need to talk about this.” “This? What do you mean?” “Money.” Gev stiffened. “I’m wealthy. I know you know that.” “Yeah,” Gev said warily. Then he caught himself, his shoulders sagging. “Okay. Yeah. I know. Filthy rich. It isn’t a big deal.” He looked up at Lee. “I know you can pay for everything. Heck, you could buy half this block of houses if you wanted to.” “All of them, actually.” Gev rubbed the back of his neck. “Just how much are you worth, anyway? You have one of those portfolio things, don’t you?” “Yes. I’ll show you all that later.” “You don’t have to—” “Yes, I do,” Lee said, taking Gev’s face in his hands. “I want you to be part of my life. I want you to be my life. And that means what is mine is yours.” “You’re crazy. We only just met.” “I’ve known you a lifetime.” Lee dropped his hands. “Maybe a little crazy too. But I know what works.” Gev remained silent for a few moments, then looked up at Lee. “Nick and Brandon.” “Yes.” “What’s Brandon like?” “Quiet, easygoing,” Lee said. “He’s good. I think you’ll like him.” “Better than Nick?” “Nick’s pretty hard not to love.” Drew walked in then. “Nick Kilmain? I love him,” she said, beaming happily. “You ready?” “Yeah.” Lee placed a hand on Gev’s cheek. “You be careful. If you see anything, especially that hoodie guy—” “I know. Call you. Call nine-one-one.” “Even better.” “If you see anything—” Gev began. Lee kissed him. “Don’t worry about me.” Drew cleared her throat. “Would you guys hurry up with the kissy-face, please?” Gev shot her a mock-annoyed look. “Okay. Guess you better go.” Lee bent down and kissed him, meaning for it to be brief. But Gev clutched him fiercely. Lee answered back with a heartfelt kiss, not caring that Drew was standing right there watching. It wasn’t so bad, this being out thing. “Ahem!”

162

Carolyn Gray

They broke apart, Gev smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, Drew. See you guys in a while.” Lee touched Gev’s arm, then followed Drew out to the car. Once they were in, she turned to him. “I’m glad he has you. He does, doesn’t he?” He assumed she’d talked to Trish. “Yes, he does. No matter what happens, he does.”

**** Gev was happy to discover some of his workout clothes in the duffel. Once he was sure Lee had gone—and damned relieved that an excuse to get away from Lee for a little while had manufactured itself—Gev showered, got dressed, and was sitting in the middle of the living room doing stretches with the dog’s help when the doorbell rang. He got up, stretching his arms back, wincing a little—only a couple days off routine and he was already tightening up. He opened the door for Nina, who was looking over her shoulder. She whirled around to face him, her eyes wide. “Oh, Gev!” She threw herself into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Your eye! What the hell is going on?” He pulled her into a hug, pushing the door closed behind her. “I’m okay.” He released her. “Chad’s dad gave me that. Don’t worry.” “Oh. Good.” He snorted. “Good? He packs a mean punch.” She brushed his hair back and examined his eye. “I am so sorry for him, but he didn’t have to hit you. Did you hear about the ballet studio?” she said, walking into the living room. She sat on the couch, and Khyra jumped up with her. “Yeah, I was there.” She stared at him. “Dammit, Gev—” “I know, I know. I’m okay.” “The news said it was a gas leak, but no one was seriously hurt.” That was a relief. “Want something to drink?” She dug into her purse and pulled out a small, battered-looking blue book with gold etching. “Yes, do you have any soda? Where’s Lee?” Gev fetched a coke for Nina and water for himself. No more indulging. Even two days was already causing a problem. “He’ll be gone for a while. Went to take care of the rental.” She took the coke as she passed him the little book. “Well, here you go.” Gev hefted it in his hands. It was a typical journal, the type any kid gets from his or her grandparents for Christmas. Most kids probably never actually broke theirs open, but this one had obviously been well used. “How’d you get it? “Waited down the street in Mason’s new car until she left on an errand, then snuck in, of course.” “Maybe you should reconsider professions.” “Yeah, if I could have a job like Neal Caffrey’s? I’d love it.” “White Collar?” asked Gev. “Yup.” “I didn’t know you liked that show.”

Long Way Home

163

“Two words: Matt Bomer.” “Oh yeah,” Gev said in approval. He uncapped his water and then opened the journal. “Did you look at it?” “Not yet, but that’s not all.” She took two bound booklets out of her bag. “I went up to Mason’s work last night after I got it, and made copies.” She handed him one. “Fantastic.” “That way I can put the journal back today, and she’ll never know we read it.” Gev set the journal on the coffee table. “She’ll know.” He looked at his sister. “I intend to tell her.” “Oh. You’re serious.” He sat back on the couch, opening the copy. “She should’ve turned this in to the cops ages ago,” he said, starting to flip through it. “They might’ve found something in here to help find Stefan.” “You seriously think Mom knows something she’s not telling, don’t you?” “Yeah, I do.” She hesitated, a troubled look on her face. “It makes me really sad to think she’d do that. But why would she? She was as desperate to find Stefan as anyone. More so. She loved him.” “I know.” He thumped the booklet. “It doesn’t make any sense at all, but this is the one thing we have that could provide something.” “Guess we better get reading.” She handed him a yellow highlighter. He took it silently and began to read. He hoped Lee would be gone for a while. The booklet wasn’t that thick, printed out like this, but it would still take a couple of hours to go through. He figured it took about a half hour to get to the station, and almost thirty minutes had already passed. Hell. “I think we should go somewhere else.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah. I think Lee will be back before we can go through it all.” “Didn’t you tell him you were going to work out? We can head over that way and get some coffee instead.” “Sounds good. I’ll leave a note.” A few minutes later, note written and journal safely back in Nina’s purse, he followed his sister out to the car, a black Lexus SUV. “Mason’s new one?” he asked, sliding in. “Yeah, and don’t say it. I tried to talk him into red, but he is such a conformist.” Boring, he wanted to say, but he didn’t fancy Nina’s justified smacking him. “Good ol’ Mason.” Nina pushed his shoulder. “Be nice. At least I get to drive it for a while.” As they took off, Gev scanned the street, looking for the hoodie guy. No one seemed to be out. “Clean getaway,” he said softly to himself. “What?” “Nothing.” He didn’t want to tell her about the guy. At least, not yet. He opened his copy of the journal. “Messy handwriting.”

164

Carolyn Gray

“Typical boy.” “My handwriting is nice.” “Only because you’re gay.” “So was he.” “Good point. Read, and tell me if you find anything.” Gev began to read. At first, it was a little hard to understand what Stefan had written, but mostly it was typical journal stuff one would expect any kid to write. He had to smile at that. Stefan wrote about his dog, his classes at school, what he wanted to be when he grew up—a conductor, apparently—his pesky little brother… Gev was glad to see that Stefan really had liked him. He’d written about Gev more than he would have expected. Gev was kind of surprised at the affection that came through. “He liked me,” he said, his throat oddly tight. “Yeah. I know. I wish I’d known him better.” He reached out for her hand, and she grabbed it and squeezed. “I’m sorry you didn’t.” “Sucks being the youngest.” “Is that why you liked that Mason has triplets? So none of them would be the youngest?” She released his hand and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, right.” She cocked her head to the side. “Actually? That’s a great point.” They arrived at the coffee shop on Inwood, ordered, found two empty chairs, and began reading again. They kept apace then, not really finding anything. Eventually Lee’s name came up more and more often. Finally, Nina said, “What page are you on?” Gev checked. “Thirty-two.” “This is about where he and Lee…you know.” “I feel like a voyeur.” She set her copy down. “Keep reading. I’ll be right back. Want anything else?” “Water would be good.” “Okay.” She left him alone—him and his brother and Lee. He did feel like a voyeur—or worse, an intruder. But he knew he had to read this. With a deep breath, he started reading again, rather taken by his brother’s writing skills. He was quite good at description; Gev found himself completely drawn into his world. Quiet and reserved, the younger Lee had been nothing like the Lee that Gev had discovered the night before, commanding and sure of what he was doing. Stef and Lee had really been too young to know what they were doing, but his brother had clearly led. He and Lee had almost, not quite, had an intimate relationship. Stef had loved him—and he, Stef—as much as two kids could at that age. That part didn’t last long, but there had been other times he’d written about Lee. They’d spent every moment they could together. Lee had always been there, and though Gev had been a few years younger, he’d usually been allowed to tag along. There was a time or two, he remembered now, when he’d been shut out by Stef, told to go away. A memory surfaced of Lee standing behind Stef, his dark eyes glittering, as Stef, his hand

Long Way Home

165

on the door, told Gev to go away and leave them alone. He remembered Lee’s apologetic expression. He remembered being hurt too, rejected. It was around then, he realized, when Stef had started to get more and more secretive. He wrote about arguing with their mom, fights that left him angry, his writing dark, heavy lines. Gev had had no idea there’d ever been any real fights between them. He was kind of shocked. As he read on, he realized it wasn’t, as he’d thought, because Stef’s relationship with Lee had started to deepen, but something else entirely. Or, rather, someone else. A new name started to appear in the journal at that point, a name he didn’t recognize. Mr. K. Where Lee’s name had once been prominent, now it was Mr. K—who, Gev surmised, had been a teacher at the school Lee and Stef attended. Nina returned with their fresh drinks. “Find anything?” “Look at this,” he said, scooting forward on the chair. “He fought a lot with Mom. Did you know that?” “I saw that, but I didn’t get past it. Was it because of Lee?” “No. Did you read this part about a Mr. K?” Nina sat on the chair arm, bracing herself so she could peer over his shoulder. “Karsonov, remember? That’s who I asked you about, but you didn’t know any of Stef’s teachers.” “Oh yeah. I remember.” He flipped through a couple of pages. “You were right. He does talk about him a lot.” Reading Stef’s words made Gev uncomfortable, he realized. “Think it means something?” “Maybe. Look. At first it was a few mentions, but now look. Here”—he pointed to a passage—“and here.” “What is he saying?” “Stuff a kid normally wouldn’t say about a teacher.” Nina stiffened next to him. “Not unless there was something going on. Oh, Stefan…” Nina picked up her copy, flipped to that part, and read some of it while he watched her. “Do you think this is why Mom hid the journal? But why?” She thumped the paper. “This guy should’ve had his ass hauled in first thing.” “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. The cops should’ve seen this,” Gev agreed. “But she didn’t show it to them.” The dismay and confusion on Nina’s face mirrored his own feelings. “We have to tell Detective Ramirez. There’s no choice.” Gev sat back. “I know. It might be nothing, but read on a bit.” She did so. “He idolized the man.” “He gave Stefan presents. Books and a watch. I think I remember that watch.” She slid back onto her chair, clutching the journal to her chest. “Gev,” she said, her eyes shining, “something was going on between them.” Gev kept on reading, but then suddenly he’d reached the end. By the last few pages, all mentions of Lee had dropped out, and it was all about Mr. K and the things they’d talked about. Until the very end. On the page dated a week before he’d disappeared, Stefan had written, I’m getting out of here. She fucking lied to me.

166

Carolyn Gray

There wasn’t any question in Lee’s mind who “she” was.

**** Lee dropped out of the new rental, a ridiculously high-up black Ford F-150, and shut the door. It’d been a while since he’d driven anything like it, but he’d wanted something big and formidable. Only Texans would drive trucks like this one, much less rent them. It was one of the most common trucks around, which he hoped would help them blend in, if needed. Detective Ramirez had had to go out on a call by the time he got to the police station, so he’d opted to take care of the rental car and head back to Drew and Trish’s, then start looking for a different place for Gev and him to stay. He knew they couldn’t stay with the women much longer. It was too much of an inconvenience, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever had been stalking Gev would find them there soon. If they hadn’t already. Lee knocked on the front door. The dog barked, but that was all he heard. Drew had given him a key to the back door, but… He looked around and realized he didn’t see any strange cars that could be Nina’s. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, but he fought down the sudden stab of worry. He quickly sent Gev a text, relieved when he got an answer: Sbux on Inwood and Lemmon. Back in a bit. He texted, want me to come, and grinned at what instantly came back: not without me you won’t. Lee hesitated for a minute, then got back in the behemoth, put “Starbucks Lemmon Ave” into the GPS, and headed off. He had to know if the hoodie guy was around. He had to know Gev was safe. Lee was on Lemmon when he saw him. The guy with the hoodie was across the street, holding a cell phone. Lee drew the truck closer to the guy, hoping he wouldn’t turn around—the sight of a giant black truck closing in might scare him off, common vehicle or not. Lee turned in to a parking space not twenty feet away. The guy put his cell back in his pocket, then turned and faced the coffee shop. Ice rushed through Lee’s veins as he stared in disbelief—the way the guy stood completely echoed how Gev stood. He was considerably thinner than Gev, lacking the muscles Gev had, and his curly blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but all except the smallest lingering doubt fled from Lee’s mind. It had to be Stefan. And if it was, whatever life he’d been living had been hard on him. Lee took a picture of the guy with his cell phone, hesitated a second, then sent it to Ramirez, adding, it’s him, isn’t it? before sliding out of the truck. It blocked himself from Stef, should he turn around. Stef was alive. All these years, he’d been alive. He’d sent the tickets, left the warning note about the dance studio, shouted at Gev when someone was about to mow him over—but who the hell was doing all the other crap? There was one way to find out. Lee stepped around the truck. Stefan turned at the movement, a look of despair crossing his face when he recognized Lee—and then he took off running. What the hell? “Stefan! Stop!” Dammit. Lee took off after him. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw Nina walking out of the coffee shop, but there wasn’t time to worry about it.

Long Way Home

167

Stefan darted between two cars and disappeared around a corner. A car drove in front of Lee, forcing him to skid to a stop, then run around the back of it. Adrenaline gave him the energy he needed to speed up. He had to catch Stefan now, or the chances were good he never would. He ran around the corner he’d seen Stefan turn. It led to a dead-end alley filled with cars. There was no way he could’ve gotten out without Lee seeing him. Lee stopped, catching his breath. This was crazy. “I know you’re here,” he called out, walking toward the back fence. It was too high for anyone to climb, he hoped, or else he was talking to himself. “I know you’re following Gev,” he said loudly. “I know you don’t want to hurt him. Just come out; talk to me. Tell me what the hell is going on.” He sucked in his breath, running both hands through his hair. “Dammit, just talk to me.” Then he decided, what the hell, go for broke here. “Stefan, I know it’s you.” Back in the corner, he heard a rustle, a can kicked over. He ran toward it and found Stefan about to slip through a narrow gap in the fence. A gap Lee wouldn’t be able to get through. “Stop,” Lee said. “Please.” He did stop and slowly turned around. Someone came running around the corner and saw them. Lee flicked his gaze over, knowing it was Gev. He froze, looking from Lee back to the hoodie guy. Nina came up behind Gev, but he held her back. Had they recognized Stef? Lee didn’t think so. “I’m sorry,” Stefan said, then slipped through. Lee lunged for him, grabbing the hoodie as he was about to slip off for good. He curled his fingers around the hoodie and yanked, making Stefan stumble. “Wait, dammit.” “Let me go. I can’t. Lee—” The guy’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. Don’t tell them it’s me. Please.” Lee didn’t know what to do except let Stef go. He took a step back, staring dumbly at the now empty space where Stefan had gone. It really was him, alive. Lee turned and walked back toward where Gev and Nina waited. “He got away.” “Did you see who it was?” Gev asked. “No, he slipped through the fence too fast,” Lee said, hating himself for lying. He put his arm around Gev and started walking back toward the Starbucks. “You guys okay?” “We didn’t see anyone else,” Nina said, falling into step beside Lee. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to go. Kids will be out of school soon.” They’d reached the parking lot. “Where’s your car?” Lee said. “Over there. The black Lexus SUV.” Lee headed for it, then walked around it when he reached it. Nothing looked strange, out of place. Tires were untouched. “I watched it from the window,” Nina said. “I doubt anyone was able to do anything to it without my knowing.” Lee looked down the street, then back the other way. “He’s not the one I’m worried about.” “What did Ramirez say?” asked Gev. “I didn’t even get to see her. She was out on a call.” “Good. I want to see her. And we need to tell her about that guy.” Yeah, he sure did. He knew the second she looked at that picture he’d sent, she too would know for sure it was Stefan. “I got a new rental.”

168

Carolyn Gray

Nina opened her car door. “Where?” Lee hoped they didn’t notice that he was trying to get them out of there. He needed time to think. He hit a button on his key fob, and the massive truck, parked a few spaces away, flashed its lights. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Gev said, disbelief on his face as he looked from the truck to Lee. “You thought you’d got all the Texan out of you.” “I’m not a Texan,” Lee insisted. “Yeah, right.” Nina slid into her seat. “Keep on believing that.” Gev walked around to her car door and leaned in to say something to her that Lee couldn’t hear. He looked around them again, making sure no one lurked, that the car that had tried to mow Gev down was nowhere in sight. “See you guys later.” “I’ll call you.” Gev closed Nina’s door. He had a booklet of some sort in his hand, which he rolled up as she backed out with a wave. He rejoined Lee, and they walked over to the truck. Lee went around to his side and hauled himself in; Gev did the same. “Where to now?” Lee asked. “Home, I guess. Such as it is.” Lee pulled his cell out of his jacket pocket, then laid it next to him on the seat and started up the truck. Gev leaned back, the curled-up booklet clutched in his hand, and stared out the window. “Maybe that guy is stalking me.” “What do you mean?” “I don’t know. It’s happened before, I’m sur—” Gev stopped. “Of course it has. Nick was stalked by that guy before he kidnapped him, right?” Lee turned the corner. “Yeah. For quite a while.” Gev thumped the paper on his thigh. “I really am getting tired of this. I haven’t worked out in two days. I’m going to lose my flexibility soon if I don’t.” “What about at the ballet school? Didn’t you go?” Lee turned onto their street and parked in front of the house. “They’re going to hate this truck on sight,” Gev said. “And no. Nina had something to show me. And now I have to show it to you.” “What?” Lee said, turning off the engine. But Gev had opened the door and jumped out already. Lee paused, then did the same. He slid his phone into his jacket pocket and headed after Gev, checking up and down the street, as always. Gev rang the doorbell, watching Lee as he scanned the streets. “Becoming habit, isn’t it?” Lee grimaced as he joined Gev. “It has been for a long time.” Even when Mutt was around, Lee couldn’t put being vigilant on hold. Gev knocked on the door. “Dammit, I don’t think anyone’s here.” “Drew gave me the back-door key,” Lee said, pulling it out of his pocket. Gev plucked it from his fingers. “Give me a sec.”

Long Way Home

169

Lee watched as Gev ran around the corner of the house. It didn’t take long for him to open the front door. Lee shut the door behind him and locked it, then followed Gev into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” Gev asked. “Sure.” “Water or coke?” “Water’s fine.” Lee took off his jacket and draped it over the couch. Khyra looked up from her bed in the corner and yawned at him, then lay back down. Lee was trying to shake the feeling that something was up with Gev, but it wouldn’t leave. “Be right back.” He headed up the stairs and into the bathroom, then splashed his face with water. This was not going well. He couldn’t do it anymore, he realized. Ramirez wanted him to keep quiet until they knew for sure it was Stefan who had been trailing Gev. Well, now he knew for sure. He’d told Stef he wouldn’t tell, either, but he knew he had no choice—Gev was more important. After taking a piss and washing his hands again, he eyed himself in the mirror. It was the right thing to do. Gev deserved to know, and Ramirez could stuff it. He opened the door and headed down the steps. Gev was standing next to the couch, holding Lee’s cell phone in his hand. Lee slowed, reaching the last step. Gev looked up, his eyes flashing, his expression tight. “Ramirez texted you back.” Lee’s mouth went dry. Shit. But what came out of his mouth was not what he should’ve said. “Why’d you look at my phone?” “I thought it might be important.” Gev shoved the phone into his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Lee felt disembodied as he read Ramirez’s message: It’s Stefan. No doubt now. “I couldn’t,” Lee said, his heart pounding. This couldn’t be happening. “Why the hell not?” Gev threw his arms out wide. “When were you going to tell me? Were you going to?” “Of course I was. Ramirez asked me not to say anything until she was sure.” Lee took a step toward Gev, reaching for him, but Gev pulled back. Lee’s hand clutched air; he let it drop to his side, defeated by the look on Gev’s face. Fear shot through him. “No.” “Gev—” “No, don’t,” Gev said, his eyes glassy. “Fuck.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “You lied to me. Oh, sure, you didn’t directly, but you lied to me.” His accusation stabbed Lee in the chest. “Why? You want him—Fuck. My brother. Shit.” The haunted look on his face tore at Lee. He couldn’t move. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Gev think he was glad Stef was back because— But then it was too late. Gev blinked, his expression hardening. “Guess you’ve got what you wanted now.” “What do you mean by that?” “Stef, that’s what. It’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s why you weren’t going to tell me. You’ve known it could be Stef behind all this for how long?” “It’s not like that.” “How long have you known.”

170

Carolyn Gray

Dammit. “Only since night before last,” Lee said, feeling sick. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell y—” “So why didn’t you?” Gev made a face. “How did you react? When you learned Stef might be alive? You can have him back now. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” “No,” Lee said, wrenching the word out. “That’s not what I want. I want you. I’m glad he’s alive. I don’t understand it, but—” “Why did you let him go? You stopped him, behind that store. You let him go.” A crushing weight sat on his chest. “He begged me to. Asked me not to tell you it was him.” “And his feelings are more important than mine. And Nina’s. Dammit.” Gev clenched his hair in his fingers, his expression tormented. “You knew, Lee. You knew and didn’t tell me.” The look Gev gave him was the worst thing he’d ever seen directed his way. He hadn’t meant to hurt Gev, but he had. And he didn’t know what to say, because Gev was right—he hadn’t told him, because a part of him had hoped Stef was alive. Gev saw it on his face. “I have to get out of here.” Gev tried to push past, but Lee grabbed him by the shoulders. He wasn’t sure he was stronger than Gev, but he was bigger. Gev stiffened under his hands. “Wait, dammit. Yes, I wish I had told you. I was about to.” Gev laughed bitterly. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked up at Lee. “Maybe you were. I don’t know. But this isn’t something I can—” He closed his eyes, his body suddenly drooping in Lee’s grip. “Please, let me go,” he said softly. Lee knew he had no choice. He took a step back, releasing Gev. “What are you going to do?” Gev turned his head away. “I don’t know. Just…leave, okay? I don’t want you here right now.” Nothing Gev could’ve said would have hurt more. Everything inside Lee blackened. It was over; there was nothing he could say in his defense. Gev moved toward the staircase. “I was going to give you that booklet. Take it.” “What is it?” Gev looked at him then, his eyes red, his expression lost. “Take it and go, Lee.” And then he went up the stairs. Lee stared after him, numb. Trish had been so right. Exactly what she’d warned him would happen just had. He grabbed the booklet, then went out the front door and locked the doorknob lock behind him. It wasn’t until he’d reached the truck that he realized all his things were inside. Fucking hell. He’d have to wait until Drew or Trish got home. No way would Gev open the door for him now. As he got into the truck, he realized he was shaking. Gev was wrong. Lee had no intention of trying to get Stefan back. The person whose face he’d looked into in that alley was Stefan, no doubt about that, but he wasn’t his Stefan. That person was long gone, lost to him and maybe to everyone else. He had to think that was why Stefan had stayed away all this time. He’d looked so exhausted and sad. Lee laid his head back, closed his eyes. Images formed in his mind, memories of when he’d been a kid, Stefan and him playing together first with trucks and water balloons and then

Long Way Home

171

playing on a baseball team together. Stef had been horrible, but everyone liked him so much that they stuck him in outfield while Lee’d played first base. Then images of later, hiding in the closet and kissing for the first time. And then the first explorations into what would’ve been more, if all hell hadn’t broken loose, if Stef hadn’t been taken. If Lee hadn’t been left unconscious and useless. Those memories had torn him apart for years, but now they were just memories, nothing more. He’d been such a fool all these years, holding on to the past like that. He should never have hidden the truth from his friends either. Especially not Nick. But the past was in the past, where it belonged. Stefan was alive. And he’d found, loved, and lost Gev. It slammed into him then, the cold, devastating awareness that he’d fallen in love with Gev. With a deep sigh, he picked up the papers that Gev had told him to take. His surprise was genuine when he realized it was a copy of a journal. Stefan’s journal? He started to flip through it, confused as to where it had come from. The first pages were what any kid might write in a journal. It was kind of funny that Stefan had had one, but Lee really wanted to know where it had been all this time. He continued to read, his stomach knotting as he read about himself, realizing Gev had seen all this. Stefan hadn’t held back in describing their times together. Nina, he assumed, must’ve read this too. Where had they found it? Lee looked out the windshield. How had things gotten so fucked up? He reached for his cell and called Ramirez. He got her voice mail. “It’s Lee. I have a question to ask. Did anyone ever show you—” He’d kept flipping through the journal as he talked, but everything suddenly grayed around him as his eyes zeroed in on a name. Mr. K. He dropped the phone, everything else forgotten as he read more. And as he read, his memories, so long cloaked where that time had become a total blank in his mind, suddenly ripped apart. “Oh, my God.” Mr. K. Karsonov, their math teacher. He’d been the one to take Stefan. Lee picked up his phone and ended the call to Ramirez. He’d already failed Gev once; he wasn’t about to do it again. He would tell Gev first and then tell Ramirez. He punched in Gev’s number, begging him to pick it up. If he didn’t, Lee would kick that front door down. “Come on, Gev. Dammit, answer me.” Gev flushed the toilet, wiping his mouth with his arm. Still hunched over, he turned to the sink, splashed his face, then halfheartedly brushed his teeth. The sour taste was gone, but his stomach still clenched and roiled, his eyes were red, and his face hurt like hell again. He pulled a towel off the rack and turned to brace himself against the sink, the towel to his face. For a second, he wondered if he could smother himself, but he wasn’t the kind. He dropped the towel and stared at the shower—the shower where he and Lee had finally pushed aside everything and come together. He’d been such a fool to believe that Lee had meant it. He had been playing Gev for a fool from the moment he’d insisted on not leaving Gev alone. He hadn’t wanted to leave town, because he knew Stefan was there.

172

Carolyn Gray

Gev’s throat clenched painfully. His chest hurt so damn bad. He wanted to curl up in a ball on the bathroom floor. He sank down on the bath mat, his back braced by the sink cabinet, an agonized sob escaping despite himself. He gritted his teeth, grasping for the anger he needed to hate Lee, but no matter how hard he tried to find that spark, he couldn’t keep hold of it long enough for it to burst into flames. Lee’s face, his agonized expression, kept searing itself into Gev’s mind. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, closing his eyes, forehead to knees. This was the worst week of his life. He should never have sent for Lee to come back to the theater dressing room. Then none of this would have happened. He would never have given himself to Lee like that, damn his stupid subby ways. Lee was everything he’d ever longed for in a sex partner, but now it was all crap. It’d been so awesome, so damn hot. He’d felt no shame, then. But now? Humiliated, that’s what he was. He tried to hold on to that, but like the anger, it flitted away, the persistent truth taunting him. Being with Lee had been real. The look in Lee’s eyes—that had been real. Misery tore at him; his stomach refused to unknot. He reached for some toilet paper and blew his nose. He was sniveling like a stupid little kid whose favorite toy had been taken away. And given to your older brother. And Stef… Stef was alive. Gev was elated, yet he couldn’t help wishing Stef had never come back. Gev knew the second his parents found out—especially his mother—life would never be the same. He’d lost everything—his home, his best friend, the one man he’d always wanted, and now his mother wouldn’t care about anyone but Stef. He heard the doorbell ring; someone was leaning on it. Drew had given Lee her key, so maybe it was her. He pushed himself to his feet and looked outside, but a tree and the angle blocked the street from his view. He pulled off his shirt—he’d gotten sick on it, brilliant—and went downstairs. When he was halfway down, whoever was out there started to bang on the door. Gev jerked back, fear stabbing through him. He ran back upstairs, cursing his foolishness. He should never have sent Lee away. Then he realized something that chilled him as nothing else could—the back door was still unlocked. If the murderer went around back, Gev was toast. Khyra had gotten up from her pillow, a low growl deep in her throat. The banging started again. “Gev, open up, dammit.” Gev stumbled down a couple of the steps, relief ripping through him. He’d almost run to the door when he realized it was Lee banging on the door, but he pulled up short. “I know you’re in there. Shit. Let me in. Please.” Lee pounded on the door a couple more times. “The journal, Gev. I read it. I know what happened. Can’t you hear me? I know what happened.” Gev licked his lips, then reached for the front door, his hand trembling as he unlocked it. Silence on the other side. Gev stood back, ready to bolt if Lee suddenly turned into the killer. Which was ridiculous. But he watched, shaking and clutching the banister, as the doorknob turned. Then the door pushed open, and Lee stepped inside, the booklet clutched in his hand. Khyra ran up to him. He petted her absently as his head swiveled toward Gev, cowering like an idiot on the stairs. He forced himself to let go of the railing and not to shiver as Lee frowned when his gaze raked over Gev’s bare chest.

Long Way Home

173

“What do you remember?” he forced out, hoping to hell Lee didn’t realize he’d spent the last twenty minutes throwing up his coffee. Lee didn’t move from where he stood. When he spoke, his voice was soft, urgent, pleading. Melting Gev’s hardened resolve. Destroying his accusations. “Mr. K. He was our math teacher. Mr. Karsonov. Gev, he’s who took Stefan.” Gev’s throat still clenched, making it hard to force the words out. “Why do you think it was him?” Lee looked up at him. “Please, come down the stairs. I won’t—I won’t do anything.” Gev hesitated, then nodded. He went down the last few steps. “What do you remember?” Lee looked wild-eyed, tormented. Gev’s heart clutched, the traitor. But his whole body was betraying him, and he trembled with the effort to keep his distance while his heart and hurt battled it out. “We were in the park. Stef was with his dog. I was going to my music lesson on my bike.” “You’d remembered that much already,” Gev said. “Yeah, but then, reading that journal, I remembered the man’s face. I saw his face, and it was Karsonov.” Agony rippled over Lee’s features. “Stef went with him willingly. I remember shouting at him, pleading with him not to go, but Karsonov told him to get into the van. Stef looked at me, said something like he wrote in his journal—that he couldn’t stay there anymore, that everyone had lied to him.” “She had lied to him,” Gev said. “Who did he mean?” “My mom, I think. I don’t know.” But he did know or at least suspect. “What else do you remember?” Stef had gone willingly. “All these years, I knew there was no way I wouldn’t have seen who took Stef. I was right there, looked straight into his eyes. Stef got into the van, and then Karsonov attacked me.” Gev startled. He was a foot from Lee still, aching to hurl himself at Lee and tell him he was sorry, but that stopped him. “What do you mean, attacked you?” Lee looked at him funny. “He nearly killed me. I thought you knew that. I was in the hospital for…a while afterward.” “No, I didn’t know. I mean, I knew you’d been knocked out, but I didn’t know it was that bad. Mom never said anything about you.” Horror and anger joined the hurt and heartache. So much had been kept from him. “Is that why you weren’t at the funeral?” “I probably wouldn’t have been allowed to go anyway. Your mom would’ve kept me away.” “Karsonov,” Gev said. “Russian.” “Yeah? Is that important? I remember he had a pretty heavy accent.” Gev sat down on the bottom step, rubbing his forehead. His head hurt. “I don’t know if it means anything that Mom’s Russian, and he is, and she never showed the journal to the police.” “What?” Gev jerked his head up. “Yeah. I was going to show you that, and then I wanted to show it to Detective Ramirez.”

174

Carolyn Gray

Lee leaned back against the door, his expression hardening. He looked up at the ceiling. Gev couldn’t take his eyes off him, the stabbing pain back now, the ache sharp and needling. Lee was working through something; he could see that. He waited, watching Lee, aching as the so fresh memories of Lee kissing him, making him come out in the garden, in the bathroom, upstairs in the bedroom, assaulted the barrier he’d thrown up between them. Finally, Lee spoke, but it wasn’t what Gev had expected him to say. He pushed away from the door. “You need to take this to Ramirez. If you can’t get her, call Detective Harrison.” Lee started to open the door. “Wait, where are you going?” Lee hesitated, his gaze softening, sad. “I’ve got to find Stefan. I let him go in the alley, and that was a mistake. He’s the one person who can put an end to all this.” Devastation raced through Gev. Lee was going to find Stefan. “Okay.” There wasn’t much else he could say. Lee looked at him once more, his eyes dark, glittering, expressionless. And then he was gone. For a long moment, Gev couldn’t move. He went back upstairs, almost on autopilot. He would call Detective Ramirez, but not until after he’d confronted his mother. He had to do that first, had to know the truth from her. And then he would tell her about Stefan.

Long Way Home

175

Chapter Twenty The problem was, Lee realized as he drove around the neighborhood, he had no idea how to find Stefan now that he’d scared him off. In the end, he decided there was nothing he could do but sit and wait to see if Stef showed up again. So after getting a cheeseburger and a coke— which he found he could hardly touch, he was so heartsick—Lee parked the truck down the street from Drew and Trish’s and waited. He was grateful for the dark windows. He didn’t think Stefan had realized he was driving the truck. He wasn’t exactly the truck type, though Stefan couldn’t know that. Stef likely didn’t know anything about him, and Lee realized the Stefan he’d thought he’d known was in complete contradiction to the person he was. Lee had been Stef’s best, closest friend. More than that. He’d told Stefan everything, and he’d thought Stefan had done the same. Lee tried to think of a single time Stef had acted odd about Karsonov, ever said anything about him, but he couldn’t think of anything. Whatever Stef had learned, whatever reason he’d found to leave his home and family—and Lee—to go with Karsonov so willingly—angrily, even, like he was pissed that Lee had shown up that day—he couldn’t imagine. That, Lee realized, hurt most of all. A car drove past him, drawing his focus. It was Drew’s. She drove around the back of her house, and he relaxed. At least Gev wasn’t alone in there now. He opened his cheeseburger and stared at the oozing secret sauce, shaking his head. He ate too much junk food. He took a bite, then stopped chewing as he realized Drew’s car was leaving again. He swallowed and set the burger down. He wasn’t sure why, but there was no doubt in his mind it was Gev driving Drew’s car. “Dammit, Gev,” he murmured as he started the engine. Then, trying to be inconspicuous—which was laughable in the giant truck—he pulled out to follow Gev. Gev hadn’t gone three blocks before he spied the black truck in his rearview mirror. He tried to convince himself he was annoyed, but he knew otherwise—he was thrilled that Lee was following him. A mocking inner voice was accusing him of behaving like a child, and he wished it would shut up. He itched to call Lee on his cell, but he wasn’t going to do it. The second Lee figured out where he was going, Gev had no doubt he’d back off. But when Gev turned off the highway, taking the exit that led to his neighborhood, and the black truck kept on going past, doubt took over. Maybe it hadn’t been Lee. He hadn’t been able to see who was driving, and as Lee had pointed out, big black Ford trucks were in the thousands in Texas. As if to prove that point, one drove through the intersection in front of him. The exact same damn truck.

176

Carolyn Gray

“Shit,” he muttered. Fine, then. So much for that. He would probably never see Lee again, except for the fact he’d left all his stuff at Trish and Drew’s. But maybe he wouldn’t go back there himself or would only go long enough to drop the truck off, get his stuff, and call a cab. Turning onto his street, he pushed all thoughts of Lee and what the hell he was going to do now from his mind. He figured he was about to kill off yet another part of his life. Maybe Margot would talk to her friend from the Miami City Ballet for him again. It was the only bright possibility, though he doubted he was good enough or ever would be. Nina’s SUV was there. He parked the car behind it and got out, then headed toward the house. He’d been thinking about not calling Nina, and it wasn’t lost on him that that would’ve been doing to her exactly what Lee had done to him. The door opened, and she stepped out, then closed it behind her. “Gev, what happened? Your phone call—” “Where’s Mom?” “Out back. What’s wrong? Where’s Lee?” Gev turned, scanning the street as Lee had always done. There was no one except for a few startled birds that suddenly rushed into the sky. “He’s—I don’t know where he is.” Her face fell. “Oh no, sweetheart. What happened?” He felt terrible and stupid, not knowing how to say it except to say it. “That guy Lee chased into the parking lot?” “Yeah? What—Do you know who it was?” “It was Stefan. He’s alive.” Nina stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him down the sidewalk. “What do you mean, he’s alive? That was him? Lee talked to him. He—” She stopped, her hand squeezing his arm, then releasing. “Oh, Gev. No.” The torment he’d been trying to hold back leaked through despite his resolve not to crumble. He had to get through this, had to stay clearheaded. “Yeah. Lee knew.” “And he didn’t tell you. Damn, Gev. I don’t know what to say. Or think.” “Me, either.” “How long has he known?” He realized he was shaking, his fists clenched. He didn’t want Nina to see how freaked out he really was. “He said he didn’t know for sure until right then. That Ramirez suspected but told him not to say anything.” When she said, “Yeah, I can see that,” he stared at her in hurt disbelief. “You think he was right not to? Nina, what the hell—” She laid a hand on his arm. If it had been anyone but his sister, he would’ve jerked back. “They didn’t know for sure, right? What evidence did they have?” “No, he should’ve told me.” She gave him a patient look, the kind he’d seen her give the kids. He stiffened. “Don’t look at me like that.” “They only had those pictures, right? And they were fuzzy at best. Sweetheart, what would it have done to you if he had told you before he was sure? Why did you fight? Was it because he didn’t tell you right away? Or did you think—Oh hell, Gev, did you think he was going to dump you?”

Long Way Home

177

He glared at her stubbornly. “What else would I think? And I was right.” “No, I don’t believe that,” she said. “You idiot, he’s in love with you. It’s written all over his face!” Her words smacked him into surprised disbelief. “No way. That’s crazy.” She couldn’t be right. That would mean his reaction might have hurt Le—No. “You’re just a romantic,” he insisted. “A smart romantic. Oh, Gev,” she said, her eyes dancing. And she was smiling. Smiling. “Lee is the kind of guy who respects authority. He travels all over the world, and it’s essential that he respects the rules and laws wherever they go. The same applies here. A cop told him to keep his mouth shut, so he did. Doesn’t mean he liked it. I’m sure he hated it.” He wanted to deny her logic, but fuck, he couldn’t help the excited racing of his heart. Still… “But he saw Stef in the parking lot. Why didn’t he say anything then?” He folded his arms over his chest and waited. “I don’t know, except maybe he was afraid you would overreact—like you did.” That cold, hard truth slammed into him. He sagged, the last of his anger and denial flying away. He didn’t want to let it go, wanted to hold on to it, its hard black surface, and keep it tightly packed inside his chest. Then it wouldn’t hurt so much that it was his fault. Then he wouldn’t give a damn that Lee was gone, probably for good. And if he was gone for good, there was no one for Gev to blame but himself and his stupid, self-centered ego. “Nina,” he wrenched out, and she pulled him into her arms. He clung to her, fierce love for his sister burning brightly. She murmured softly to him that it would be all right; it would work out. He pulled back, rubbing his eyes. “No, I sent him away.” “Lee is stubborn.” She poked him. “Like you but in a different way. He doesn’t give up on people. Plenty of evidence of that fact. I doubt he’s gone far.” She was right. Of course she was. Hope started to grow inside him. Maybe it wasn’t too late to find Lee and figure this whole thing out. Then he recalled something. “He remembered what happened that day, Nina.” She looked puzzled at first, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, my God. What did he remember?” Gev looked at the house, anger and emotions he didn’t know what to call catapulting through him. “He says the guy who took Stefan was their math teacher, and Stef went with him willingly.” “Willingly,” she said dumbly. “He went willingly?” She looked as freaked as he felt. She sat down on the front stoop, and he had no choice but to join her. He waited, watching her go through the same mental gymnastics he’d gone through. “Willingly. Which makes sense, given what he’d written up to the end.” She turned her head, eyes wide. “Mom knew.” “Yeah. I doubt she kept the journal all these years without having read it.” “I wonder if Dad knew?” He hadn’t thought about that, which shamed him. All his thoughts had been centered on his mom, what she had done. And that thought shamed him most of all. He really was a self-centered idiot. It wasn’t about him; it wasn’t about anyone but Stefan. “He chose to leave,” Gev murmured, staring at the asphalt in front of his trainers. A tiny black ant wandered aimlessly across the asphalt. Was that

178

Carolyn Gray

what he was? An ant? He felt like it, like he was walking across a vast, empty space with everything he wanted on the other side, but he didn’t know how the hell to get there. “Dad’s going to be crushed if he doesn’t know,” Nina said. “You can’t just barrel in there. It wouldn’t be right.” He wanted that hard black anger back. He needed it in order to confront his mother, throw the truth in her face. But it was gone now, and he knew it should be. “You’re right.” The relief on her face pained him. “Good. Oh, good.” He put his arm around her. “I love you, you know. I’m such an idiot.” She leaned her head against him. “I know. But I love you too.” She pulled away and stood, then grabbed his hand and pulled him up. She was stronger than she looked, always had been. “So, how are we going to do this?” “I don’t know. I guess—” He stared at the journal in his hands, sighing, then tucked it in his back pocket. “I was going to go in there waving it in front of her face—don’t worry; I’m done being stupid.” That made her smirk. “I think we should go together and tell them the truth—that Stefan is alive, and we’ve seen him. Sort of.” He grimaced at that, but she was right. “Yeah. Let’s leave Lee out of it, though, okay?” “Good idea.” She touched his arm. “I want so badly for you and Lee to work this out. If…if you do, and Mom and Dad won’t—” “Dad isn’t the problem.” “I know. I know. But if they—if she doesn’t let go of whatever she holds against Lee… Which, come to think of it—if she knows that Stefan went willingly, why the hating against Lee?” He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Movement caught his eye, and he looked up. Just a beat-up sedan driving by the end street. He shivered as he watched the car turn a corner and disappear from sight. The air was starting to get colder. “What’s wrong?” Gev blinked. “Nothing,” he said, turning back to his sister. “I guess we’d best do this.” She hugged him, drew in a deep breath, let it out. “Okay. I wish we didn’t have to, but oh well.” Lee had realized right away where Gev was headed—to confront his mother with what he’d found in the journal. While Lee couldn’t blame him for wanting to demand an explanation from her, Lee’s more immediate concern was making sure Detective Ramirez knew about the journal’s existence. She should’ve called him by now, if Gev had let her know. Lee was two blocks from Gev’s parents’ house and decided to park the truck around the corner so he could see down the street. And first thing he saw was Gev, sitting on the front steps of his parents’ house, talking to his sister. The sudden stab of loss and longing in Lee’s chest shocked him; all the years he’d missed Stef, ached to see him again, were nothing compared to this. If he couldn’t make things right with Gev, convince him they had a future together, the last fifteen years of being alone would seem like a party in comparison to the vast loneliness of the rest of his life. He drew in a shaky breath, his anger at his own stupidity flaring brightly. Then he picked up his phone.

Long Way Home

179

This time Ramirez answered right away. “Lee?” “Did Gev call you?” She hesitated. “When?” “Within the past half hour.” “No. What’s up? Did you see Stefan again?” Lee stared out at Gev and Nina, still talking on their parents’ stoop. He wondered what they were saying. Was Nina trying to talk Gev out of his plan to confront his mom? Lee hoped so, though part of him wanted to be there, to see her suffer. Which, he realized with shame, was about the cruelest thought he could have. She didn’t like him, nor he her, but he couldn’t imagine why in the hell she would’ve kept that journal hidden, not done everything in her power to find Stefan. He couldn’t help feeling like all this was her fault somehow. “Lee?” “Sorry.” He shook himself. “I cornered him, actually. He asked me not to say anything to Gev, but it was too late. Gev and Nina both know now.” “Damn. How did he react?” Not well. “Shocked, I think.” Understatement. “Did you know Stef had a journal?” “A… What? A journal? He did?” Unreal. Just unreal. As he’d feared, she didn’t know anything about it. “Nina found it in her mother’s drawer and took it, and Gev showed it to me. Stef wasn’t kidnapped—he went willingly.” She was silent for a moment. “What did the journal say?” she asked, her voice terse. He looked out the window, scanning the neighborhood again. Still empty, no one around except Gev and Nina, standing now. Lee frowned as a late-model dark brown sedan drove down the street. “Lee, you there?” “Sorry. The journal has the name of who took him.” “What? Where are you? I need to see it.” “I can tell you who it was. Stef wrote about a Mr. K. I remember him; he was a substitute teacher, I think. He was there for about six months, and I remember that’s when Stef started to change.” “What was the K for? Do you remember?” “Karsonov.” “Russian,” she mused. He heard the sound of her flipping through papers. “Gev’s mother is Russian—” “So was he.” “Do you remember what he sounded like?” He thought back, his memory hazy, crowded with memories of a not-so-happy time. He’d forgotten how Stefan had grown sullen, secretive, ignoring him more and more often. He thought about math class, the teacher, how he had sounded when he spoke. “He had an accent. Pretty heavy.” Stefan had been entranced right away. “Their mom didn’t teach them Russian. He was really fascinated by the language and was trying to teach it to himself.”

180

Carolyn Gray

“I’ll start tracking Karsonov down, see where he’s been lately. Where’s Gev? Is he with you?” “No.” Lee didn’t exactly want to admit he was spying on Gev, but…well, he was. “He’s at his parents’ house. I think he wants to confront his mom about the journal.” “Does he know about Mr. K?” she demanded. “Yeah, of course; it’s right in there.” “Did you tell him—” “Yeah,” Lee said. “I did. I asked him to call and tell you, but he didn’t.” “All right. Where are you?” Lee laughed humorlessly. “Down the block from the house, sitting in a rental and trying not to look like a stalker.” “Good. Hold on. I’ll be back in a second.” Lee rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes and wondering how the heck all this was going to keep from blowing up horribly. It didn’t take long for Ramirez to return. “Lee?” He straightened in the seat. “Yeah?” “I’ve got my people working on the Karsonov angle. I want you to go to Gev; stay with him.” “Why?” he asked, not wanting to tell her Gev had all but kicked him out of his life. She didn’t know about them, and he had no interest in telling her either. “Because I didn’t know you two were apart. I thought you were sticking together.” Oh. “Well, we were, until…” He sighed. “Wait, hold on. I’ll call right back again. Don’t move from where you are.” “Detect—” But she’d hung up on him. He set his phone down, then picked up the journal printout and flipped through it. He hadn’t read all of it—hadn’t been sure he wanted to—but now that he was alone, and the afternoon was waning, and he sure as hell didn’t want to interrupt Gev, he began to read the first part, the early times with him and Stef. It punched him in the gut to know that Gev—and, presumably, Nina and their mom—had read this. He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead again. Definitely getting a headache. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day except a few bites of the burger, which had grown cold and disgusting. No wonder Irini hated him; he’d fooled around with her son, and she knew all the details. And as the older boy… He could imagine what she thought wasn’t written in the journal. Must’ve assumed he’d been the one to lead Stefan to the dark side, as Nick jokingly called it. The dark but fun side. It hadn’t been like that, though. It had been Stefan who had charmed him, made him feel wanted when no one else ever had. He’d been lonely as hell, with a drunk for a mother and a dad who wouldn’t even answer his calls. He’d loved Stef—so bright and beautiful, talkative and smart. Everyone loved him. Lee could see why Gev felt so overshadowed by his brother, even after Stef’s supposed death. Stef had been the kind of person who devoured those closest to him, inhaling them and turning them into his worshipers, overshadowing everyone else.

Long Way Home

181

Lee too had worshiped Stefan, would’ve done anything for him. And had. He remembered how scared he’d been the first time he kissed Stefan, unconvinced that it would be okay, knowing his dad would find out. He’d sworn his dad would look at him and know that he and Stef had done the things they’d done and hate him for it. And yet, he hadn’t stopped. Being with Stef was intoxicating, and Lee had become what Stef wanted. Thinking back now, as he watched Gev disappear into the house—which made him curse; he’d hoped Gev would get back in Drew’s car and leave—he realized that was the huge difference between Gev and his brother. Whereas Stefan had drained Lee completely until he was no more than a shadow to Stefan’s radiance, Gev made him feel empowered and strong, made him want to be a better person, to be Gev’s equal. His partner, in every sense of the word. The realization washed over him, clearing his thoughts and his resolve. As he turned it over in his mind, he knew it was the truth. And he needed to convince Gev. Every last bit of anger-generated adrenaline had left Gev by the time he and Nina opened the door to the workroom. Their mother sat on the couch, reading a book, a cup of coffee beside her. Their dad was in the back, singing along to the radio as he worked on whatever he was building. Gev caught Nina’s eyes and knew the pain and regret in them were reflected in his own. It stunned him how quickly he’d changed his tune. “Gev! Nina?” his mom said, putting down her book. Her smile was tentative, cautious, and Gev realized with a pang that that was how she had always looked at him. Like it hurt to see him. And yet, for the first time, he realized his assumption that she resented him for being alive and Stefan dead was false. Which left him wondering what in the hell she thought when she looked at him like that. She never looked at Nina that way. “Hey, Mom,” Nina said. The singing but not the music stopped in the back, and their dad walked out, sandpaper and a piece of wood in his hand. “What’s up?” A surge of love for him hit Gev right then. He hoped their dad didn’t know. Even though it would hurt him, Gev hoped he’d never known about the journal. It was bad enough that their mom did. “We have something we need to discuss,” Gev said, surprised his voice sounded so even. “What is it?” “Dad, I—” Dammit, now that the moment was here, he didn’t know how to spit it out. The look on his dad’s face… He couldn’t do it. Nina gave him an encouraging look. “We found out something you guys have to know about. It’s about Stefan.” He was watching his mom, saw the horror flash across her face, the way she paled. His dad set aside his project. “Explain, son. What are you talking about?” Gev hesitated, then pulled the journal from his back pocket. “This.” His mom’s face crumpled, her hand flew to her mouth, and she sat back hard on the couch. “No.” “Why were you hiding this?”

182

Carolyn Gray

“What is that?” his dad said, and Gev felt a surge of relief—his dad hadn’t known about the journal. He moved toward his mom, reaching for that anger, that hate, but it wasn’t there, only a deep, hollow sadness. And maybe that was good. Maybe that was right, the right way to be. Nina spoke before he could. “It’s Stefan’s journal, Dad.” His mother had started to shake. “Who—Who did you tell?” she asked hoarsely. “Irini, what’s going on here? Stefan’s journal?” His dad took it from Gev’s hand, flipped it open, and stared at their mom. “Where did you get this?” “I found it in his room.” “Why didn’t you tell the police? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Gev took a step back as his father asked the questions Gev had wanted to hurl into her face not an hour before. “I couldn’t,” she said, agonized. “If I had—” A new voice filled the room from the workshop doorway. “I would’ve killed your son; that’s why.” Gev turned around to stare at a man he didn’t recognize. Or did he? The stranger looked at Gev, sending a sick chill through him. “That son, to be specific.” His mother bolted to her feet. Gev stumbled as his dad whipped around and shoved Gev protectively behind him. Nina grabbed their mom and pulled her back. “Who the hell are you?” his father demanded. The stranger wasn’t a big man, but he looked strong, like a laborer used to hauling things. Stronger than Gev—and his dad. But it was his face, his eyes— And Gev knew. “You’re Mr. Karsonov. From Stef’s journal. You’re—” “That’s right.” The man revealed disturbingly white, perfect teeth. His eyes screwed up, squinting, malicious, and when he put a hand into his jacket and pulled out a gun, Gev knew they were in deep shit. “I’m Stef’s father.” His dad still had a grip on Gev, and now it tightened. He feared his bones would snap. Gev knew now. Karsonov was the one who had killed Chad and Curtis. With that gun. He was the one who had tried to run Gev over, had been responsible for the explosions at the ballet studio. He was the one who had ruined Gev’s life—all their lives—by taking Stefan. “You bastard.” Gev pushed away from his dad. “You fucking bastard.” His dad’s shout, his mother’s cry, Nina’s scream—none of it stopped him, not even the gun now wavering at him. He hurled himself at Karsonov’s gun arm, knocking it aside. A shot rang out, the bullet hitting a chair inches away. Karsonov yanked out of Gev’s grip and swung the gun toward Gev’s head. Gev started to duck, but the hit was hard enough to send him reeling. He tumbled to the ground; the back of his head smacked the wall. “Gev!” his mother screamed. “Don’t hurt him. Please. Haven’t you hurt us all enough?” Dazed and dizzy, his stomach reeling, Gev tried to pull himself to a stand. Karsonov pointed the gun at Gev’s dad when he started to move to Gev’s side. “You next? I won’t miss this time.” Karsonov shifted closer to Gev and toed him with a boot. “Or should I put your pretty little ballet boy’s career on permanent hold?” Hot blood trickled down the side of Gev’s face. He fought to calm himself, to think.

Long Way Home

183

“Leave him alone,” his mother demanded. “Don’t hurt my son,” she said. Nina gripped her hands. “Your son.” Karsonov snorted. “He looks like you, Frank—butt ugly.” “Don’t—” “Ah-ah. Shut up. Go sit down with your wife. Or I will hurt your son.” Karsonov sneered. “Your only son.” “Pyotr, no,” his mother said. “Don’t call me that!” he shouted, making her cringe. Karsonov leered at her reaction. “What, you never told him? You never told your precious Frank that Stefan wasn’t his?” His mother sobbed. Nina gasped, her gaze catching Gev’s. He straightened against the wall, his head clearer now, maybe from the shock. Stefan was Karsonov’s son? His mother had had a kid before she’d married his dad? Gev stared at her, saw the truth in her horrified eyes. She looked at him, shame reddening her face. Why hadn’t she told them? That must be what Stefan had meant: “She lied to me.” He’d found out the truth, learned his life was a lie. They had to get out of this. Somehow. Karsonov wasn’t going to let them go. Maybe… Maybe if he could get his cell phone out, hit 911… He eased his hand toward his pocket. Karsonov was so intent on tearing Gev’s father apart, he didn’t notice Gev pulling out the phone. Nina did, though. Gev got his fingers on the keypad and hoped to hell he was hitting the right numbers, wincing as the stupid keys made noise. He was glad he didn’t have a touch phone. This would never have worked. “Frank, I’m sor—” “It’s all right, Irini,” his dad said, his gaze on his wife. “I knew.” Gev flinched. He knew? Karsonov started to turn to him, but Nina, her face pale, leaped up. “You’re lying!” she yelled at Karsonov, waving her arms. Crazy woman, Gev thought gratefully. He looked down at his cell and hit Send, hoping to hell that whoever answered didn’t start talking so loudly Karsonov would hear. “Don’t worry, Nina,” his dad said. “Frank. You knew?” his mom said, standing now. “I always knew.” His dad smiled sadly. “I loved you. I knew you were scared of him and wanted to get away any way you could. That didn’t matter to me. I loved Stefan as much as I do Gev and Nina.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I never thought he’d find us. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. I’m sorry. I should’ve told the police.” His gaze was firm on his wife. “We both should have told them.” The haunted look on his mother’s face slammed Gev in the gut. But the look on Karsonov’s face scared the hell out of him. “Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Karsonov demanded, pushing Frank. Gev’s dad came back at Karsonov, who was ready for it and, with a chillingly single-minded calm, pulled the trigger and shot him. Frank hit the floor with a hard jolt and lay still, a patch of red blooming on his shoulder. “Frank!” his mother yelled. When Karsonov had his attention on her, Gev leaped to his feet and hurled himself toward Karsonov. But Karsonov saw him coming. He grabbed Nina off the couch by her arm and yanked her against his chest. She cried out, and Karsonov’s huge hand wrapped around her throat, cutting her off.

184

Carolyn Gray

Gev stopped, panting, horrified, his mother sobbing, his dad unconscious and maybe dying on the floor. “Don’t move, Gev. Unless you’d like to be an only child.” “Stefan’s alive,” Gev said. His mom gasped. “He’s here? Stef’s here?” The hopeful look on her face made Gev falter. But this time for a different reason. It was all too clear why she had done what she’d done. Stef’s birth father was a cruel bastard. Gev didn’t want to think about what the man might have done to her. And to Stefan. He stared at Karsonov. “What kind of monster are you?” “The kind who’s taking care of what he should’ve years ago.” Karsonov pointed the gun at Gev’s mother. “You’ve fucked everything up, Irini. I warned you what would happen if you left me to the wolves, and you did it anyway.” “No,” Gev’s mom whispered. “Don’t do this.” “Don’t they know the story? Not the best mother, are you? And here I thought Stef was telling me stories all these years.” She covered her ears. “Stop it. Just stop it!” Karsonov pulled Nina closer, his lips caressing her ear. Gev jerked forward, and the gun shifted to point directly at him. “On your knees.” He dropped to the floor, hating this man, the hatred roiling inside him, seething and helpless. Gev strained to hear sirens, anything, but there was nothing. They were lost. The memory of Chad’s body slid into Gev’s mind, and he knew then what would happen to them all. And he was helpless to stop it. Helpless to do anything at all. He looked at his sister, held her gaze; no, there was something he could do. Hold on, Nina. He willed her to understand. At least he could do this much, hold on to his sister so she would know she wasn’t alone. “Let me tell you a story, children. One your mother never did. About two ballet dancers, new to this country, so young and so in love. They got married. They were so happy.” He kissed Nina’s ear. “She was so beautiful, your mother. Just like you.” Nina wrenched away, but he held her up, choking her harder before easing his grip. “Going to behave? Good girl. But then the pretty ballerina got stupid. Stopped doing what she was told and left her husband and ran away with the fucking janitor. Left her husband to look like a fool, left him with nothing, took all the money, his family’s jewels, and his unborn child.” His face reddened. “She took his son and thought she could get away with it.” “Please, Pyotr—” “Peter!” he said. “Shut up, Irini.” “You got what you wanted. Just leave us alone. We won’t tell anyone. I promise.” “Too late, lyubimiy. What’s it going to be? Your dear, precious Frank?” He pointed the gun at Gev’s dad, still out cold on the floor. “Your precious ballerina?” He shifted the gun back toward Gev. “Or your darling daughter?” He tightened his hold on Nina’s neck. “The choice is yours. Which one is going to pay for what you did to me?” He eyed Gev. “Or maybe you all should. What do you think, Gev?”

Long Way Home

185

Chapter Twenty-One Lee finished reading the journal. It was weird, he realized, reading about himself as a kid, and through another person’s eyes. It felt distant, so outside of the person who he was now. A good reminder. Sometime in his life—thanks to Nick, really—he’d lost his awkwardness, his shyness, and though he’d always kept himself slightly distant from the others, he nonetheless had found something like family and acceptance. He realized too that he’d been a fool all those years, thinking he didn’t want or need love, that he would never find it again. That he didn’t deserve it. Lee looked down the street at Gev’s parents’ house. There’d been nothing happening for a while now. Maybe Gev’d gone in there, thrown the journal at his mother, told her the truth, and they’d all had a big cry and hug, and that was that—Stefan would come back to the family, and they’d be whole again. Lee hoped so, even as he realized that if that was the case, there was no place for him there. His earlier resolve to convince Gev otherwise was slipping. His inner demons were good at that. He started the truck. There was no reason to stay any longer; he could go back to Trish and Drew’s house now and get his stuff while Gev was still here. And then he would head for Durango, screw flying. It was too much of a pain in the ass nowadays anyway, and the thought of a long road trip suited him, even if it meant driving through the Texas panhandle. He threw the car into drive, started to pull out—and slammed on the brakes as something flashed in the side mirror. Then Stefan was there, wild-eyed and scared-looking, banging on his door. “Lee! Let me in!” Too stunned to do anything but comply, he unlocked the door. Stef threw himself inside and slammed the door. “Get to the house, fast. They’re in trouble.” Alarm raced through Lee. “What are you—” “Go.” Lee roared down the street and skidded the truck to a stop nose-to-nose with Drew’s car. Stef was almost out the door when Lee grabbed him by the jacket. “Stop.” “He’s back there, dammit. Don’t you get it? He wants to kill them. All of them.” “What are you talking about?” But Stef wasn’t listening. “There’s no time. I tried to stop him, but he knocked me out.” Lee noticed then the bruise on Stef’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything—but he wants them dead.” “You can’t barge in there like an idiot. Does he have a gun?” “Probably.”

186

Carolyn Gray

Lee’s blood froze. He stared at this man he had once loved so fiercely. Stef’s eyes filled with despair. “I didn’t know he was a killer until it was too late. We have to stop him.” The cell rang. Lee looked down—Ramirez. Still gripping Stefan’s jacket, unconvinced he wouldn’t bolt like a fool anyway into a situation he was not equipped to handle, Lee answered. “Karsonov’s got Gev’s family.” “There was a nine-one-one call from there. We’ve got people on the way.” Relief flooded him. “Stef says Karsonov’s going to kill them. He’s got a gun.” “Stef’s there?” “Yeah.” “Stay put. Whatever you do, don’t get in the way, Lee.” She hung up. Stef slipped out of Lee’s grasp and was out of the truck before he could react. “Fucking hell, Stefan!” Hoping to hell Stef didn’t get them all killed, Lee followed. He didn’t catch up until Stef had nearly rounded the corner to the backyard. Lee grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “He’s got Nina.” Stef collapsed a little under Lee’s grip. Lee looked around the corner of the house and saw a scene that made him sick. The door of the workshop was open, and Karsonov had Nina around the throat. A body—oh, God, Frank—lay on the ground. Irini was on the couch, frozen in place. And Gev… “Shit, Gev,” Lee choked out. Gev was on his knees, his hands clasped behind his back. Only Irini would be able to see them from where she sat, and if she reacted, all would be lost. The cops would be there soon, now on high alert. But there might not be time to wait. Pulling Stef with him, Lee backed away and turned Stef to face him. “He won’t shoot you. I’m going to go around back, and you’re going to go in there and distract him. Wait until I’m in place. I don’t think he’ll shoot them in front of you.” “What are you going to do?” “Buy us some time. I hope.” Stefan searched his face, then put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, smiling sadly. “Be careful. Gev needs you.” Lee couldn’t have agreed more. Stef straightened. “Talk with you soon.” “Yeah, we will. You can bet on it.” Lee edged around the side by the fence, hoping to hell that he was right and Karsonov wouldn’t shoot Stef. Once he made it to the back of the workroom, ducking low so he wouldn’t be seen through the window, he waved to Stef. Stef nodded and began to walk toward the front entrance. Lee held still and waited. He couldn’t hear any sirens and hoped to hell they’d left them off. Once he heard raised voices—Irini crying, Stef shouting at Karsonov to stop what he was doing—Lee slid in through the back door. Karsonov couldn’t see him, but Lee could see Gev— and Stef, talking urgently, begging Karsonov to stop. Then Lee saw Frank, his eyes open and wide, staring right at Lee. Thank God. Frank’s gaze slid toward Karsonov and back to Lee. Hoping to hell he was reading Frank right, Lee looked around the shop and saw virtually nothing

Long Way Home

187

he could use to attack a man with a gun. He grabbed a piece of wood that somewhat resembled a future table leg. What were the odds of hitting Karsonov between the eyes? None, but he had nothing else. Lee positioned himself on the other side of the doorway, sucking in his breath, hoping to hell he wasn’t about to die. “You really think they’d want you back after all you’ve done?” Karsonov was saying. “Let them go. I’ll stay away from them. I swear.” “You said that before,” Karsonov snarled. “I warned you what would happen if you tried to go back.” “Please, Dad, let Nina go.” Dad? “Let her go, and we’ll leave, and I’ll never contact them again. I swear it.” “Stefan,” Irini whispered hoarsely. “No.” “Shut up. I’m sick of your whining.” It all happened at once then. Karsonov aimed at Irini and fired; Frank kicked out and knocked Karsonov off balance; Gev hurled himself at Karsonov, along with Stef. Lee joined the fray, clubbing at Karsonov’s gun hand. Gev was punching Karsonov in the stomach, Stef trying to pull the man off Frank. Karsonov started to bring his gun hand up toward Gev. Lee fell on Karsonov’s hand, the gun going off again. Fire ripped past Lee’s shoulder, but he held on, his right arm suddenly weak but his left hand still hard on Karsonov’s wrist. Gev’s hand came down on top of his, holding tight as Nina socked Karsonov in the face with the table leg. Then all hell truly broke loose. “Police! Drop the weapons! Get down!” Lee wasn’t about to let go. A strangled roar of fury burst from Karsonov, and he tried to buck them off—until the barrel of a gun was shoved into his face. Hands pulled at Lee, yanking him back, the sudden dizzying pain making him stumble. Another hand wrestled the gun away from Karsonov. Only then did Lee let go, and only then did the pain really rip through him as he was hauled away from Karsonov. The workshop had filled with uniformed officers. Two were bent over Irini, who lay limp on the couch. Lee looked wildly around for Gev, and then he was there, blood drying on his face, suddenly holding Lee tight. Lee gripped him hard with his good arm as the person behind him let go. “You came back,” Gev wrenched out, and all Lee could do was nod. Gev had hoped he would never see a scene like this again, let alone less than a week after the first time. At least this time there were no bodies, though he wouldn’t have minded there being one. Karsonov’s. The bastard had been hauled away, shrieking. Gev wanted to punch the bastard again, but he hadn’t been given the chance. Paramedics had pulled him and Lee out to the front of the house—where all the neighbors could gawk—taking them to different places to be treated. Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed Lee’s shoulder. They hadn’t been able to say a word to each other in the chaos, but Lee was there. He’d come. He’d likely saved Gev’s whole family, and Gev ached to thank him, apologize for being a

188

Carolyn Gray

jealous fool. But he’d been told to sit on a lawn chair someone had pulled aside and not move until the paramedic poking at him let him go. He winced as she turned his face to the side and lightly touched his cheekbone. “Hurts too?” “Slightly,” he muttered. “Sorry. I was hit once already this week.” The paramedic frowned as she cleaned the blood off his face. “That explains it.” She straightened. “You’ll be fine. He hit you hard with that gun, but it didn’t go deep. Hard head.” No kidding. “No stitches, then?” “Nope,” she said as she applied a bandage to his forehead. It throbbed dully. “Check with your own doctor if you still have a headache tomorrow. Stay away from flying fists for a while, okay?” He fully intended to. “Where did they take my…friend?” “Lee Nelson?” she said immediately, eyes dancing. Gev had to grin. Even in a situation like this, Lee couldn’t escape his fame. “Yeah. Him.” She helped Gev to his feet, making sure he was steady. “Over there.” She pointed to a group of people, behind which he assumed Lee was getting treated. “Thanks,” he said. She walked off to talk with her partner, leaving Gev at a bit of a loss. The ambulance carrying his dad had already left, his mom riding along. He spotted Nina, sitting on a truck’s tailgate and draped in a foil blanket, talking to Detective Ramirez. He went over and sat next to her, wrapping one arm—carefully—around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, shuddering—but not crying. Not his Nina. After a moment, she pulled back. “You okay?” She touched his bandaged face. “Yeah. He barely grazed me. You got him good. I’m proud of you.” Her eyes flashed. “Never piss off this Russian.” A laugh escaped him. “You’re more like Mom every day.” “Oh, shut up.” But she didn’t look displeased. “Gev,” Detective Ramirez said. He grabbed her in a hug. “It’s over now, sweetheart.” “I hope so,” he whispered, letting her go. “Thank you. If you hadn’t gotten your people here when you did—” “You were able to call nine-one-one, and that made all the difference. I’m happy for you. You’re safe now.” Of all the things he’d been through the past week, nothing hit him quite so forcefully as that—he was safe. He felt his eyes filling and tried to force himself to knock it off. “Thanks. Thanks for everything.” She pretended not to notice the tears. “Okay, you two, I need to go find your brother. Half brother. My longest-running case, solved at last. Don’t think I’ll let you become strangers now, though.” “We won’t,” Gev said. “What will happen to Stef now?” Nina asked.

Long Way Home

189

Ramirez looked away from them, scanning the crowd. Gev did too—Lee still had people around him, and Gev didn’t see Stefan anywhere. “Unfortunately, his involvement with his father puts him in a precarious position. I’ll be busy for a while with him, figuring out if and where there are warrants out for him.” Nina winced at that. “What if he’s involved in”—she waved her hand at Gev, her eyes sad—“Chad?” The detective took a deep breath. “We’ll address that if it comes up. We won’t be charging Stefan for what happened to Chad, as long as he cooperates, which he’s promised he will.” “He will,” Nina said, her eyes narrowing. “I’ll see to that.” “Good. He’ll need someone in his corner.” “Our parents will be too,” Nina promised. “We all will. Right, Gev?” Gev said nothing, though he realized he was behaving like a pouty child. “Right,” he said finally, which satisfied Nina. “All right. Better go round up Stef and take him on in. He and I have lots to talk about,” said Ramirez. “You get some rest, Gev.” Nina looped her arm through his. “He will, I promise.” The detective left, but Nina remained next to him, firmly holding on to him. After several silent minutes, she abruptly squeezed his arm and released him. “Thank God,” she said, bolting to her feet and letting the blanket slide off onto the ground. Curious, Gev turned to see what had sparked that reaction, just as Mason swooped in and Nina leaped into his arms. Gev watched as the world suddenly shrank for them, Mason covering Nina’s face with kisses, the look on his face racing from fear to unhidden relief. It was beautiful, and Gev was happy for Nina. His worries about his baby sister marrying someone so much older—and with three kids, to boot—left him, and he really did wonder why he’d been so judgmental. Mason let go of Nina, more or less—his hand still gripped hers firmly—and turned to Gev. “You okay?” Gev stuck out his hand. Mason looked at it in surprise. “Thanks, Mason—for everything.” Mason took his hand and shook it, such an expression of relief on his face that Gev felt like a troll for being so negative about him. He was, he realized, very much his mother’s son. What a bastard he’d been. His sister looked like she was about to cry with happiness. He kissed her on the cheek. “Go home. Be with your family. It’s going to be okay. Okay?” She hugged him fiercely and whispered, “Thank you. Go talk to Lee. Fix it.” She pulled back. “We’ll check on the parents. Don’t worry about them tonight.” “Thanks.” “Call if you need anything,” Mason said. Gev watched them as they walked off, arm in arm. He wasn’t as confident as Nina that things could be fixed between him and Lee. Now that Stefan was back—and back in the family—Gev wasn’t sure about anything at all. Everything he’d stood on—being the oldest by default, the only son, the disappointment who was forever judged by his mother and compared to a brother who was lost—it was all so very mixed up. His dad knowing all along about Stefan still blew him away. And everything between him and his mom and not knowing how she would react to him now…

190

Carolyn Gray

He ran his fingers through his hair, mentally and physically exhausted. His face hurt— again—and he wanted to take a long nap before he talked with Lee, yet every part of him ached to be held by Lee again. The brief moment in the workshop had rocked him, and he knew the best and safest place he could be would be right there with Lee, wherever he was. Some of the cops had finally left, and the other ambulance had retreated from the scene. The backyard was still packed with people; he figured it would be for a while, until they’d gathered all the evidence they wanted. He’d seen it all before. But he didn’t see Lee, though the truck was still there, parked haphazardly in front of Drew’s car. Then he spotted Lee standing with a couple of people, one of whom was Detective Ramirez. The other was Stefan. Lee’s expression was sober while he listened intently to something the detective said. He held his bandaged arm close to his body as he pulled out his wallet with his good hand and passed a card to Stefan. Stef put his arms around Lee and hugged him—a long, lingering hug. Gev’s heart fractured as he watched, and all his doubts became realities. His big brother was back, and though Lee had denied Stefan meaning so much to him anymore, the truth was right in front of Gev’s face. Stef dropped his arms and looked past the detective, his gaze settling on Gev. Gev looked back. He didn’t hate his brother, but it hurt. It hurt so damn bad. Stef turned to Lee again, and Gev couldn’t bear to see any more. He went into the house, where a couple of cops were still working. He wanted to tell them to get the fuck out but settled for glaring, then went down the hall toward his former room at the end. He had to pass Stefan’s room to get there. Not really understanding why, he hesitated outside the room, then pushed the door open. The room was as Stefan had left it, except for one thing—Stefan had never lived in this house. Yet his old cover was on the bed, posters on the wall, all his games and now-ancient computer sitting there as if, any second, a teenage boy would run in and flop on the bed and stare up at the ceiling to agonize over the latest adolescent angst. It had always creeped Gev out, the way his mother had recreated Stef’s old room, and he had refused to ever go inside. Now he kind of understood why she’d done it. There had to have always been a glimmer of hope inside her that, somehow, Stefan would come back. He pitied her at that moment. He couldn’t imagine the hell she’d been through, knowing who had taken her son but powerless to do anything about it. Powerless because of him. He slammed the door, not wanting to think about it, not wanting to acknowledge what was clear—she’d been forced to choose between Gev and Nina, and Stef. He leaned against the doorway, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. For the first time in a long, long time, he ached to see his mom, to talk to her like she was a human being. What a shit he’d been to her. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he would have to find a way to forgive her for all that had happened between them since. And ask her to forgive him. He rubbed his forehead, heading for his own room. Too much had happened; he was too raw, in pain, full of loss. The room swam before his eyes a little as he sat down on the bed, his back to the door. It was now a guest room; all evidence of his teenage years spent here was gone. He cradled his head in his hands, eyes tightly closed as he fought off the agony that was trying to break him in two—Stefan and Lee, together again.

Long Way Home

191

It was too much. Too damn much. He sank his hands into his hair, clenching it between his fingers and pulling hard, welcoming the pain. It was the only thing keeping him from breaking completely apart.

**** “Guess I’d better get going now,” Stefan said to Lee. The detective had told Stef to meet her at her car, then stepped back to give them a moment alone. “Yeah, best to not make her track you down anymore,” Lee said. Stef’s blue eyes were bright, his easy smile reminding Lee how beautiful Stef was. And yet, as Lee watched him, this man he’d spent so many years mourning, the feelings Lee had thought he’d never lose for Stef weren’t there anymore. Instead, his mind kept rocketing back to Gev. He wanted Stef to go, he realized. He was starting to feel anxious to get out of here, away from all these people, and be alone with Gev. Detective Ramirez wanted him to “drop in later” at the police station, but he had no intention of doing so today. Tonight, he intended to reclaim Gev. The thought made his heart race. “Go find him,” Stef suddenly said. “What?” Stef gave him a shove. “You want me to leave. Admit it.” “I—No, of course not,” Lee said, but the amused expression on Stef’s face made him stumble over the words. He gave up. “Okay, yeah. Get out of here. I need to find my boyfriend.” Stef burst out laughing. “I’m glad for you guys, you know. I’d kinda hoped that somehow you two would’ve found each other.” At Lee’s surprised look, Stef said, “I’ve always been a romantic. You know that.” So was Lee. And so was Gev. Not a bad thing to be, a romantic. The yard was emptying at last. Ramirez motioned for Stefan to come with. “You’re being paged.” “I see.” Stef sighed, making no move to go. “What will you do?” Lee asked softly. “I don’t know. If I don’t end up doing jail time—which is a possibility,” he said ruefully, “I won’t stick around here for long, I don’t think.” Lee understood that, oddly enough. “You know how to reach me. No matter what, I want to hear what happens.” No matter whether he and Gev managed to cross this huge mountain they’d built between each other. “If you need a job, we’re always looking for help.” Stef stuck his hand out. Lee took it—gingerly—with his injured hand. He winced as Stef shook it, and Stef let him go. “Thank you. I might take you up on that, eventually. Now, go get Gev.” “I’m not sure where he is. I haven’t seen him since they dragged me to the ambulance,” Lee said, unease folding over him. It was good, real good, how he and Stefan were ending, but now he was worried about where Gev had disappeared to. “I did, a while ago. We were still talking to Detective Ramirez, though.” Lee’s mind shot back to that. “What did he do?” he demanded, Stef’s eyebrows flying up at his urgency.

192

Carolyn Gray

“He… I don’t know. He turned around and walked inside the—” The light dawned on Stef’s face. “Oh shit. He didn’t see me hugging you, did he? I think he did.” Lee closed his eyes briefly. Fantastic. “I better go find him.” “Take care of him, Lee. Let him know… We were only kids.” “Yeah. I will.” Lee started to turn around and go, then stopped, remembering something. “Stef, wait.” Stef turned around. “Yeah?” “You wouldn’t happen to know about some mysterious tickets sent to me, to see Gev’s ballet, would you?” Stef looked thoughtful. “No, can’t say as I do.” Detective Ramirez called for him, and Stef turned away again. Lee swore there was a smile on his face as he did so, though. “Yeah, right,” Lee whispered, then took off to find Gev. Two cops came out of the house. Once they were out, Lee slipped inside, made sure no one else was around, and then locked the door against any interruptions. The house was quiet, almost eerily so. He stood in the middle of the living room, the ache in his arm sizzling merrily, making him a little light-headed. They’d given him something for the pain, which would probably make him tired, but he was already exhausted from the whole ordeal. And now came the hardest part of all. Heading down the hall, Lee listened intently for Gev. He looked in the other rooms as he passed, stopping when he reached what looked like a teenager’s room. He blinked, stunned as he recognized the bed covering, the posters, the books, the old guitar in the corner… What the hell? Stefan’s things. Not his room—he hadn’t lived here. But his things, here, like a fucking creepy shrine to the dead. Except Stefan hadn’t been dead, and Irini had known it. What must it have been like for Gev, living with that room, a gaping, ugly wound that would never let his family heal? Irini had done some terrible things in the course of protecting Nina and Gev as she had. But damn, this—And yet, he kind of understood now. She’d had reason to hope. He found Gev in the last room, sitting on the bed, his back to the door. Lee drank in the sight of him, even hunched over, despair radiating from him in waves. Gev flinched on hearing Lee’s breathing and raised his head. “What do you want?” he said, his voice dead. You. Lee moved into the room and closed the door behind him. “For you to look at me.” “Don’t exactly feel like it right now, if you don’t mind.” Lee pulled out the desk chair and sat. “Then listen to me.” Gev let out a whoosh of breath. “You don’t have to say anything.” Shit. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Lee said, cursing the surge of frustrated anger. His arm throbbed, he felt like hell, and if Gev didn’t look at him soon, Lee was going to push him down on the bed, hold them there, and make him listen—injury be damned. “It means,” Gev said in measured tones, “you can do what you want. I can’t stop you.”

Long Way Home

193

I can’t stop you from going back to Stef. That’s what hung between them. Lee looked at Gev, tense and ready to spring away the second Lee said the wrong thing. Dammit, he wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He was no lyricist; he was a background man, the bass…the foundation. Nick had told him once that without Lee, steady and strong beneath them, Dream would’ve failed. He wasn’t used to putting himself out there, but now he had to. His life depended on it. He took a deep breath, pulling from that. “You really think that now Stef is back, there’s instantly nothing between you and me anymore?” He could tell by Gev’s flinch that was exactly what he thought. Lee couldn’t stand it. He stood and dragged the chair around the bed. Gev’s face was tight, and he glared at the floor as if he’d burn a hole straight through to the basement if given enough time and fuel. Lee aimed to give him neither. “I want to tell you about something I’ve realized, ever since that first night.” He didn’t have to tell Gev what night. “I’ve spent more than fifteen years holding on to something that was never mine to begin with. Ever since Stef disappeared, I’ve blamed myself. Wrapped everything I did around the cold, hard fact that it was my fault Stef was gone. Today, hearing the real truth, it slammed into me what an idiot I’d been, putting that kind of responsibility on the kid I was then.” Gev said nothing, but his eyes flickered. “I made it everything to me, thinking it was the right thing to do, because I thought I loved your brother.” Gev tensed at that, his jaw twitching. “But we were kids. I was a stupid teenage boy with raging hormones and a crappy home life, and I was blind to what was going on in front of me. You read that journal. Stef liked me, but he also used me to cover up what was really going on.” Bitterness leaked out. “I was too young and too stupid to realize it. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but dammit, there’s one thing I know—since falling for you, everything’s been so much better. You’re the one who made me want to look to the future, not to the past. Because there’s nothing back there, and I’ve known it for a long time. But I was scared, a coward.” He took a deep breath. “You make me feel strong. Like I can handle anything, do anything, because you’re there. There’s things I want, things I never thought I could have. Stupid things. Like…like my own house. A car. I haven’t bought a car in years. I want a stupid dog. I’ve never even let myself have a dog.” The anger seemed to be leaving Gev’s face. But he hadn’t said anything, and Lee was starting to feel desperate. He ached to reach for Gev’s hand, so close to his own. So he did, his fingers grasping Gev’s, his heart clenching so damn hard that it shocked him. “When I saw you in there,” he said, voice faltering as he remembered that moment, “on your knees, with that gun pointed at your head, a split second away from being taken from me for good, I went crazy.” His heart leaped when Gev’s fingers curled around his. “If anything had happened to you, I don’t—” Gev looked up then, the hardness—but not all the hurt—gone. “I—” He licked his lips, straightening, not taking his hand away but still hurt, so damn hurt. “I feel like a fool,” he finally whispered. “I thought…” He closed his eyes. “I thought with Stef back… I know you told me it wasn’t like that, but… Oh hell. You fell for me?” Lee was confused for a second, then realized what he’d said. He hadn’t meant to say it, but now he was damn glad he had. “Yeah, I did. Hard.”

194

Carolyn Gray

The corner of Gev’s mouth twitched, and the last of the hurt was gone. Lee held his breath, hoping to hell he’d finally broken through. “You really serious? You want a house? That’s a weird way to try to convince me to come back to you.” Lee’s heart tripped at Gev’s teasing. “Okay, fine—two houses, then. One here and one in Colorado. Or wherever you want to dance. I don’t care. As long as I can have a dog.” “What’s wrong with a cat?” Gev said steadily. Lee hesitated, his heart doing flip-flops. “How’d she get a name like Terror Screech, anyway?” “Chad named her, not me,” Gev said, spreading one hand. Then he sighed. “I’m such a stupid fool.” “I should’ve told you about Stef being alive.” Gev winced. “Um, actually? Nina said you did the right thing.” Lee was surprised at that. “She did? I don’t know,” he said. “I should’ve anyway. That was as good as lying to you, and it won’t happen again. From now on, no more hiding things, no more lies.” “No more lies,” Gev whispered. Lee wanted to push aside the next, but it had to be said. Now. No more putting things off. “There’s still a lot to get through. Your brother’s probably in a lot of trouble, and he’ll need help.” He tried not to notice the guarded look that crossed Gev’s face. “And, well, your mom doesn’t exactly like me.” “She’ll get over it.” “And we’ll have to work things out about your dancing. If you want to stay here, okay, but if there’s something else you want to do—” Gev stopped him. “I’m not worried about that. I… It might take me a while to deal with Stef being back. My mom—” He waved his hand, his mouth quirking up, but it was not to smile. “Yeah. We’ve got a lot of crap to figure out.” “I understand.” “I mean, how to tell them and everything. About us.” “Nina knows. Stef knows.” Gev looked surprised. “Yeah, I expect he does.” He shifted on the bed. “I don’t know what to expect. With Stef back, I don’t know.” “I gave him the card of a friend of mine, told him I’d pay his legal fees.” Lee waited, holding his breath, afraid to hope that it was really going to be okay. Gev’s eyes widened at that. “You saw me give Stef the card, didn’t you?” “Yeah. Stupid me. I thought… I don’t know. Stupid.” “Not so stupid.” Lee’s cell buzzed then. He didn’t have to pull it out to know who it was. The Dream ringtone made that clear. “Nick,” Gev said, smiling. Lee ignored the phone. “I’ll call later. They probably heard the news.” “And are probably freaking out. What about telling Nick about us?”

Long Way Home

195

Lee thought for a moment. The last thing he wanted was to make a big deal about him and Gev. He could imagine the explosion that would cause. The phone stopped ringing. “Call him back,” Gev said. “What?” “Call him. Or better yet—” Gev pulled the phone out of Lee’s pocket and turned the camera on. He looked at Lee, his eyes dancing. “We can send them a picture.” “No. No way.” “Why not?” Gev grinned. “Not that kind of picture. I’ll only send those to you. Come on. Do you really want to talk to him right now?” Hell no, he didn’t. He realized he liked Gev’s idea, though it scared the hell out of him. Sending Nick a picture of them together would cause fireworks in Durango. He had no doubt Nick would freak out, jumping up and down and screaming, “I told you guys! I knew it. I knew it!” even though Lee had never said anything about his sexuality. He studied Gev’s face, the old reticence and, well, the old Lee arguing with the Lee he wanted to become. Gev wanted this. Gev needed this. Needed Lee to share the truth with the people he was closest to, his bandmates and friends—no, his family. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay?” Gev said. “Wow. Let’s do it, then.” Gev pulled him down on the bed, the heat from his body seeping immediately through to Lee, making him shudder with want. Pure, hard desire rocketed through him as Gev leaned his bruised, bandaged face close to Lee’s, not touching him otherwise. As if a magnet drew them together, their cheeks finally touched. Gev turned his face to Lee’s. “Ready?” Their lips met. Lee cradled Gev’s face, and Gev took the picture. Lee snaked his other hand around Gev’s neck, pulling him closer. A muffled cry broke from Gev, and Lee’s entire body reacted to that small sound, to Gev’s surrender as he let Lee kiss him, lips exploring Gev’s with possessive force. He dropped his hand to Gev’s crotch, which pulsed hard beneath his fingers, and stroked Gev through his jeans, his own cock hard, throbbing, almost painful with the need for release. Gev spread his legs, thrusting against Lee’s hand, covering it with his own. Finally, too soon, their chests heaving, they pulled apart. “Damn,” Gev said breathlessly, then looked at the phone. He held it out to Lee. Gev had somehow taken a good picture despite being suddenly ravished, and if a picture could express a thousand words, this one did. It was perfect, Lee’s hand on Gev’s face, eyes halfclosed, Gev’s squeezed shut, Lee clearly devouring him. “Send it,” Lee said, hardly believing himself. Gev eyed him, still wary and unsure. “You mean it? You’re really ready for this.” “Yes, I am. I promise. I love you, Gev Sinclair. And I plan to spend the next hundred years making sure you never forget.” The happiness that broke out on Gev’s face shot straight through to Lee’s heart, settling there, warm and bright and oh so right. “I can handle that.” Gev kissed him. “I love you too—and fucking hell, that feels good to say finally.” Lee tapped the phone. “Send it.” Trembling, leaning toward Lee to show him what he was doing, Gev typed: see you guys soon, we’re fantastic. “Good?” he asked.

196

Carolyn Gray

Lee took the phone, added, love—G&L, then hit Send. He captured Gev’s mouth again. The phone rang immediately, but they ignored it. Then a text message came through, chirping madly. “Think they got the message?” Gev asked. “Oh yeah, no doubt about it.” All the hurt and uncertainty fell away then as Lee pulled Gev closer and sealed his promise with his lips and hands and body. Clothes fell away, and their bodies, naked and warm, came together with open honesty for the first time, all the horrors and heartaches, the fears and doubts, the stranglehold of the past falling away. Now, Lee vowed as he took Gev and made him completely his at last, with no shadows of the past between them, they could both begin living again. Together. And nothing would tear them apart. Nothing ever could.

Loose Id Titles by Carolyn Gray A Red-Tainted Silence Long Way Home

Carolyn Gray Carolyn Gray lives in North Texas, where she makes her home with her two young adult kids and two spoiled Siberian Huskies. She divides her time between work in the legal industry, finally completing her education, traveling to the United Kingdom to be with her own knight in shining armor, and creating suspenseful stories about everyday people caught up in more-thanordinary lives. To learn more about Carolyn, visit her Web site at http://www.carolyngraybooks.com.