Chapter Forty- Three #2
something. “Come here, man,” Sean said, gesturing weakly with his
hand.
Lucas wasn’t quite sure where “here” was but
he moved forward, bent down over the bed when Sean seemed to want
him to, and wasn’t totally shocked to feel Sean’s hand wrap around
the back of his head and pull him down closer. It was so familiar
it hurt. Sean’s fingers deliberately mussing Lucas’s hair, Sean’s
lips pressed hard and fierce to Lucas’s temple. “I missed you, you
fucker,” Sean muttered.
“I missed you too.” It was true. Lucas had
missed Sean. He hadn’t missed the constant tension, the need to
pretend to be someone he wasn’t, or the oppressive sense that he
was disappointing everyone he cared about, but Sean himself,
separated from the rest of the crap? Yeah, Lucas had missed him.
“We’ll figure this shit out, okay? You should do the counseling.
Therapy, or whatever they’re calling it. I talked to a doctor when
I was in jail, and it was pretty good. It’s not like she made me
feel crazy or anything, she just helped me figure some stuff out.
It was useful.”
Sean looked doubtful. “It was a woman? You
probably just wanted some female company and you’d take it any way
you could get it.”
Lucas squinted. “No, Sean,” he said
patiently. “I’m really not that desperate to spend time around
women. Remember?”
Sean’s long pauses were becoming routine.
“You’re really doing it, then?” he asked after they’d both watched
the man across the aisle pull a book out of his bag and start
reading. “You’re a full-on fag now?”
“Full on,” Lucas said dryly.
“And how’s that working for you?”
“It’s spectacular!” Lucas said with far too
much expression and an exaggerated lisp.
Sean grinned quickly, then grew more serious.
“It doesn’t bug you? People talking about you? People who won’t
like you any more once they know?”
Lucas made himself think about the questions.
“No. I guess it doesn’t. I mean…there’s some shit that happens and
it’s really bad. But the good part of it is that it makes it clear
that other stuff that you thought was really bad? It really wasn’t
that big of a deal. Does that make sense?”
Sean was squinting at him thoughtfully. “No.
I don’t think it does.”
“I killed a man. And I got sent to jail for
it. Bam. That’s some serious shit. After that? Somebody says
something mean about me? Big fucking deal. You know?”
“Please tell me you’re not about to say
that’s the silver lining for my legs being gone. Please don’t say
it’s going to help me learn a fucking life lesson.” Sean sounded
almost angry.
“No.” Lucas shook his head seriously. “The
silver lining for your legs being gone is the sweet parking spots.
We already covered that.”
This time, the noise from Sean’s mouth was an
unmistakable laugh. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“Well, pay attention,” Lucas admonished.
He stayed a while longer, talking about
nothing important, until a nurse came in to do something with
Sean’s IV and gave Lucas a pointed look. “I should get going,”
Lucas said, standing slowly.
“You just got here.” Sean looked like a
sleepy child fighting to be allowed to stay up past his
bedtime.
“I can come back. Or your mom said you were
going to get transferred back up as soon as they think it’s safe.
That’s still the plan?”
“Yeah. And you’d come visit me up there? Even
if you might run into Mikey or Tinker or the other guys?”
“I’m not scared of Mikey or Tinker.”
Sean nodded appreciatively. “Yeah. I noticed.
I didn’t get to tell you, man, but…that was a good show. You are a
scrappy little fucker when you want to be, you know that?”
“It was fun,” Lucas said simply. “So, say hi
to your mom for me, and the rest of the family.” He leaned in a
little closer and said, “And hang in there, Sean. Okay? We’ll
figure it out.”
“I couldn’t kill myself if I wanted to,” Sean
said bitterly. “I already thought about it. I’m stuck in this bed,
they’re keeping their eyes on me all the time…”
“That’s not all I’m talking about. I mean
don’t give up. You need to work on getting better, and figuring out
how to make your life work. You’re a scrappy little fucker
too, Sean. Don’t forget that.”
“I wonder sometimes,” Sean said softly. It
seemed like he was already half-asleep. The transition had come
quickly, so Lucas figured the nurse had probably put some sort of
sedative into the IV. But Sean was still trying to talk. “I wonder
if I really am all that tough. Or if I’m just crazy. I think about
all the times I got us into trouble…you were always the one who got
us out.”
“We were a good team. We both did lots to get
us into trouble, and we both did what we could to get us out.”
Sean shook his head sleepily. “Yeah. That’s
what I always tried to make you believe.” His eyes drifted shut and
Lucas leaned over and ruffled what was left of his hair before
kissing him on the temple. Sean managed a half-smile. “Thanks for
coming, Lucas. It was good to see you.”
“I’ll come back on my next day off, if you
aren’t moved back up by then.”
“Mmmm…” Sean mumbled, and that was all.
It was raining when Lucas left the hospital.
He thought about Mark’s car and wondered if the repairs had worked,
then thought about Mark. It was much more pleasant to imagine him
and wonder how his day was going than it was to think about Sean.
Mark had said he might go out to the farm while Lucas was away and
try to make peace with Alex. Hopefully that had worked.
He turned the radio on while he drove and
tried to find people talking, or songs he could sing along to, or
anything else to distract him. He knew he was just putting off the
inevitable. At some point his brain was going to force him to deal
with it. Sean wasn’t dead. But he’d maybe wanted to be. And he’d
lost a big part of himself, and if he’d been suicidal before the
accident, what would he be like after? Sean had taken Lucas in.
He’d been a brother. And then Lucas had left, gone off to chase his
“shiny new life”, and Sean had been alone. It didn’t matter that
Lucas didn’t see things that way, it mattered how Sean had seen
them.
“Fuck,” Lucas said out loud. He turned the
radio louder and changed stations. He wanted Mark. Mark would…well,
he wouldn’t fix it, but he’d help Lucas deal with it.
He was almost back to town when the truck
started sputtering. He checked the gas gauge, wondering if he’d
been distracting himself a little too efficiently, but he had half
a tank. The engine died completely and Lucas swore softly as he hit
the hazard lights and coasted toward the shoulder. It was still
pouring rain. He sat still behind the wheel, staring at the
downpour, then tried the engine again. It turned over, but wouldn’t
catch. A few more tries and then Lucas stopped. The battery wasn’t
exactly new and he wasn’t sure just how far he could push it.
“Fuck,” he said again. His mind ran over the
possible causes, then he popped the hood release, pushed the door
open, and stepped out into the rain. He’d spent a minute or two
poking around and investigating before he became aware of a
difference in the light. Something, moving, flashing…he poked his
head out from under the hood and saw the police car that had pulled
up behind the truck.
“Car trouble?” A male shape came jogging
toward him, police-issue slicker reflecting the car’s flashing
lights.
“Yeah,” Lucas admitted.
Then the officer got close enough that they
could see each other’s faces. Constable Parker. Excellent. And as
he recognized Lucas, the cop stopped moving and his expression
changed from polite concern to amused hostility. “You need to move
this vehicle,” he said smugly. “This is a dangerous place to stop,
especially in this weather.”
Lucas could tell where this was going and he
had no idea how to prevent it from getting there. “Yeah. I’m just
trying to figure out the problem.”
“This is a public thoroughfare, not your
private garage. You need to arrange towing.”
There had been a time when that wouldn’t have
been an issue. Scotty’s dad owned a garage, Paul worked there part
time, and Tinker got his nickname partly because he loved working
on cars. There was a time when Lucas would have had a free tow and
a team of guys ready to help him figure out the problem and get it
fixed for the cost of parts. But that time was gone, and Lucas
really didn’t have money for a tow or a mechanic. “It might be
something simple,” Lucas tried. “Give me a minute.”
“You’ve already taken one life, Cain. I’m not
going to let you endanger more citizens because you want to play
mechanic. Do you want to arrange for a tow or do I ship this to the
impound lot?”
“Come on…” Lucas looked at the impassive face
in front of him and it hit him that the officer was right. He was a
good man, doing his job. He could have driven right by, or could
have yelled orders out the window of his car but he hadn’t. He’d
climbed out in the middle of a rain storm to come help a stranded
motorist. And when he found out that the motorist was a notorious
criminal, he’d treated the killer the way killers deserved to be
treated. More politely than they deserved to be treated, maybe.
Lucas looked down at his hands, staring at the smudge of grease
across his knuckles. “I don’t have the money for a tow,” he
admitted. He’d spent the last of his cash on gas and had no credit,
no money in the bank.
Parker didn’t answer right away, but when he
did his voice was as hard as it had been earlier. “Vehicle
ownership is a responsibility. If you can’t afford to maintain a
vehicle, you can’t afford to own one.” He stepped away and spoke
into the radio on his shoulder. “I need a tow to impound,” he said
to the dispatcher, and gave details of their location.
Lucas had no idea what he was supposed to do,
but apparently it was all clear to Parker. “If you’ve got anything
you want out of the truck you should get it now. Once it’s
impounded you won’t have access until you’ve paid the tow fee.”
Lucas nodded mutely. There was nothing to