Chapter Forty- Three #3

say. So he headed back to the cab of the truck and poked around.

There wasn’t much to take. Then he stood and stared at the

officer.

“You going to call for a ride?” Parker

prompted.

“I haven’t got a phone.”

There was another long pause before Parker

said, “I guess you’d better start walking, then.”

If the cop hadn’t been there Lucas probably

could have talked the tow truck driver into giving him a lift. But

if the driver was on police business he’d be following police

rules, and Parker obviously wasn’t going to stretch things for

Lucas’s benefit.

It wasn’t that far and it wasn’t that cold.

It wouldn’t be fun, but Lucas wasn’t going to die because he had to

walk a few miles in the rain. “Do I give you the key?” he

asked.

Parker squinted at him and stepped a little

closer. “What’s going on with you, Cain?” He looked like he was

genuinely trying to figure it out. “Shouldn’t you be swearing at me

and calling me a pig? Raving about your rights and private property

and how the truck had better come back without a scratch on it?

Calling your friends and getting them to come start a riot to

defend you?”

Lucas had no answers to any of that. He just

looked at the rain splashing into the puddles and asked again, “Do

I give you the key?”

Parker huffed out a sigh. “Yeah. Give me the

key.” He waited while Lucas separated the car key from the few

others on his key chain then took it wordlessly.

Lucas turned to start walking, and Parker

said, “There’s a path just past that bunch of trees. It cuts behind

a field, comes out by the mall. Shortcut.”

What was that? Charity? Lucas had become so

pathetic that the cop who thought he was scum was starting to feel

bad for him? He didn’t turn around or acknowledge that he’d heard

the suggestion, but when he got past the trees, he found the path

and took it. He was already cold and wet. He didn’t need to add

“stupid” to his list of problems.

Besides, he wanted to get to Mark’s as soon

as possible. He wanted to strip out of his wet clothes, wrap

himself around Mark’s body, and take comfort. Sean’s loss was

devastating, but there were still good things in the world, and

Mark would help Lucas remember that. And he wanted to remind

himself that he had come a long way and while his life might not be

completely shiny, it did have a few spots that glowed pretty

bright. Constable Parker was right about him, but he was also

wrong. Mark would remind Lucas of all of that.

There was no answer when Lucas hit the buzzer

at Mark’s apartment. He checked his watch. It was still early, just

a bit past two o’clock. Mark had said maybe he’d go out to the farm

and see if Alex wanted to spend some time with him, and he went to

the hospital pretty much every day. Lucas thought about the walk

across town to the halfway house. It was a small town, less than

five minutes door to door by car. At least another hour in the

pouring rain by foot. And that hour would end with Lucas in the

wrong place, far away from Mark. He pulled out the apartment key.

He’d used it before but that was when Mark had known he was coming.

This was something different. More intimate.

He used the key. Inside the building,

sloshing up the stairs in his soaked and dripping clothes, then

inside Mark’s apartment, and he sagged against the door. He felt

better just being in Mark’s space, even without the man himself

there.

It was strange how wet clothes could somehow

feel colder when they were being taken off. Lucas was shivering by

the time he’d worked his way out of his dripping sweatshirt. He

looked at the puddle already forming on the ground at his feet and

tried to figure out some damage control. He wanted a shower. Water

had made him cold, so now it was water’s job to make him warm

again. Seemed only fair. He could put his clothes in Mark’s little

dryer, or maybe in the washer first, at least for a spin cycle to

get the worst of the water out. Maybe Mark would be home by the

time Lucas got out of the shower and there would be a benefit to

his nudity. If he wasn’t, Lucas could just wear a towel until his

clothes were ready. He thought briefly about borrowing some

clothes, but that seemed like another extra intimacy, and one that

Lucas hadn’t been invited to practice. A towel would be fine.

So the clothes went in the washer and Lucas

went in the shower. The water burned at first but after the first

moments it felt perfect. Lucas grinned as he thought of a parallel

experience and he felt the first stirrings of interest in his

groin. He’d only bottomed once with Mark and he was pretty sure it

was going to continue being a rare event. He’d enjoyed himself but

Mark had seemed almost shy the whole time. Adorably shy and unsure,

with Lucas practically walking him through it all step by step.

Just one more boost to Lucas’s ego, courtesy of Mark Webber. The

memory had him half-hard but he consciously decided not to do

anything about it. Mark would be home soon, and it would be much

more satisfying to wait.

He stepped out of the shower and used a towel

to dry off before he wrapped it around his waist. His clothes were

nowhere near dry yet so he pulled a can of Coke out of the fridge

and flopped down on the couch. He wanted Mark, but in the meantime,

he’d settle for watching TV without five other ex-cons looking over

his shoulder and critiquing his choices.

He was still flipping channels looking for

something worth watching when he heard the apartment door open. A

moment later, Mark’s familiar body appeared from the hallway, but

next to him…

Fuck. Lucas sprang off the couch. Thankfully

his towel came with him although he had to make a quick grab to

keep it from slipping.

Mark’s mother looked like she’d just seen a

monster devour a baby. She was staring at Lucas, her eyes wide, her

mouth open and sputtering. It would have been funny, something old

Lucas would have laughed about, except for the reason she was so

shocked. And except for the almost-matching expression on Mark’s

face as all three of them stood frozen and stared at each

other.

Lucas was the first to move. He needed

clothes. He crossed the room in two strides and yanked the drier

door open, swept the contents out with one arm while his other was

still holding up his towel, and took one step toward the bedroom

before reconsidering and heading for the bathroom instead. He had

no idea what Mark’s cover story was going to be but it probably

wouldn’t be good for Lucas to look like he was a frequent visitor

to the man’s bedroom.

Lucas had his jeans and underwear on when he

heard the front door slam. He didn’t let it slow him down. He

finished dressing as quickly as his still-damp clothes would allow

and forced himself to open the bathroom door. The apartment seemed

empty. Mark’s mother must have left and Mark had obviously followed

her. Jesus. Lucas had really screwed this up.

He stuck his feet into his soaked shoes. He

thought about taking the back stairs down, sneaking away through

the alley, but what if Mark and his mother were downstairs

somewhere just waiting to be sure he was gone before they returned?

He’d have to make it clear that he was leaving, so he forced

himself to march out the front door and down the street that was

becoming so familiar to him. He wondered if he’d ever have a reason

to walk on it again.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.