7. Saint
Istared after Rio with my jaw hanging open, then I flushed with shame. He had said little things here and there, hadn’t he? And what had Clay and Elena said yesterday? ‘It can be hard to be Mexican and gay.’
I was guilty of doing just what I was so determined to not do to the kids; dismiss them based on how they looked or acted.
After a short time with me being lost in thought, the waitress brought me a couple of boxes and I packed our leftovers and walked back to the motel. I let myself into the cabin we were sharing and looked around. Rio wasn”t there, so I unpacked my bag and then grabbed my sketchpad and sat down.
I had started to draw Rio in the car. I shouldn”t have, I knew that, but I couldn”t resist. He was bulky and muscular and he moved like he owned the space he was in. When he drove it was with utter confidence, and I suddenly wondered if I had been so aggressively placing him as straight because if I knew he wasn”t I would have a harder time keeping it professional.
On that thought I sat up and looked around the room, the realization that I was sitting on the only bed hitting me. I popped to my feet, staring at it like it would bite me and sighed deeply, then began to pace as anxiety began to course through me.
I was on my fifteenth or so circuit of the room when I heard the doorknob click and Rio let himself into the room. He looked at me, brows pulled together in a small frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
I waved my arm at the bed and kept pacing.
His brows pinched more tightly as he looked at the bed, me, and then back at the bed. “What’s wrong with the bed?” he asked.
“There’s only one of them.” I made one more circuit of the room and stopped to look at him. He still looked confused.
“We’re a pareja…” he said slowly. “Of course there is one bed. We booked it as a couple, they’d give us a queen bed instead of two smaller ones.”
Okay, that was true. We had mentioned that specifically when we were booking the room and checking in.
He looked at me a moment longer, then his face grew stormy again. “Afraid I’ll take your virtue, Saint Michael?” he asked quietly. “Do you think I won’t be able to help myself and ravish you in your sleep?” His voice was a dare.
I did not think that, in fact. My upset had very, very little to do with Rio other than my earlier contemplations on how attractive I found him.
“No,” I replied, stepping up closer. “I am not afraid of you, nor do I think you’d do anything I don’t want you to do.”
Rio stared at me, and the next second his eyes widened ever so slightly.
“My current problem, however, is I haven’t slept in a bed with someone – slept – in many years.” I turned my face away for a moment, collecting myself, then looked him in the eye again. “I haven’t slept in the same room as someone in that time either.”
Rio was searching my face, he could see that I was saying something important here, and then, slowly, he nodded. “I’m used to sleeping in the same room, but you’re right, sharing your bed to sleep… un asunto diferente.”
I nodded slowly. “I didn’t think about it until I was sitting, drawing, and I realized. It’s not about you, Rio, it isn’t, and I am sorry for what I’ve been doing since we met.” I let him see my sincerity, and he softened and smiled just a little.
“Gracías.” He pulled in a slow breath and let it out. “We can trade off on the bed,” he said. “You take it tonight, and I’ll take it tomorrow night. Hopefully, we won’t be here long.” He nodded towards the frankly hideous stuffed chair nearby. “I’ll use that tonight.”
I frowned. It seemed cruel, but the idea of sleeping alone was alluring and finally I nodded. “Thank you, Rio,” I said earnestly.
***
I fell asleep fairly easily, but this was the third time I had been awakened by the sound of Rio shifting in that chair, and frankly I couldn’t stand it anymore. “For the love of God, Rio, just get into this fucking bed.”
I heard a thump in the darkness and then a rumbling growl of frustration. “Go back to sleep, Saint.”
“I would love to,” I shot back, “But you’re obviously miserable and you keep waking me up.”
“I am so sorry,” Rio said sarcastically, and I threw back the covers and stalked over to him.
“Get into my fucking bed, Rio, or I swear to God…” I said, hand on my hips.
Rio chuckled darkly. “Saint, I thought you’d be more gentlemanly,” he taunted, and I growled, which made him suck air.
Five minutes later, we were both in my bed, on our backs, arms folded over our bellies. The twin poses were accidental, but it worked. “Now please go to sleep,” I said.
“It’s a decent bed,” Rio observed, and I frowned lightly. It really wasn’t, but I guess after an army cot… In any case, now hopefully he would stop waking me up and we could both get some sleep.
It took far less time for me to drift off than I would have thought, and I didn’t wake again until the sun was slipping through the curtains. I was warm and comfortable; the body pillow I was hugging especially firm and lovely and…
And I remembered that I didn’t go to bed with a body pillow, I went to bed with Rio Torrez, my bodyguard.
I startled and was about to pull away when his hand on my arm tightened and he hummed in a way that reminded me of a cheetah purring, still mostly asleep. I stilled, enjoying just how good he felt in my arms. He was utterly solid, his skin warm under my hand. He was shirtless, and last night after I changed the dressing on his graze, before the light went off, I had seen a slightly furred chest, a smooth, defined stomach and a neat treasure trail that led from below his navel down beneath his navy pajama pants. That mental image, combined with the feel of him in my arms now, had my mouth going dry.
I had avoided giving in to my physical needs for a long, long time. Having this man in my bed, in my arms, right now was reminding me just how long it had been.
“And you thought I’d ravish you,” he said, voice low and deep, and I realized that I must be poking him in the ass with my morning wood.
I jerked back, putting distance between us, and he laughed lowly. “I am so sorry,” I sputtered, but he shook his head and rolled over.
“Can’t help it that I’m all that,” he said, giving me a teasing half-smile. “And, you know, biología.”
I covered my eyes with my forehead and blew out a breath. “I’m still sorry. I didn’t mean to get into your space…”
He waved a hand. “Slept pretty good.” He peeked at me. “You didn’t take advantage of me or anything, Saint, I didn’t mind. Might as well get used to it, who knows how long we’ll be here.”
That was true. The thought of the coming nights, of possibly waking up to his morning wood pressed into my body, had me breathing slowly for a minute. He was watching me, and I hoped he couldn’t tell what I was thinking about.
After a minute, mercifully, Rio hummed and rolled out of bed. “You know what you learn when you’re one of six kids?” he asked, grinning at me over his shoulder.
I frowned, not knowing where this turn of conversation was headed.
“You learn that if nobody else is making the move to el ba?o, you get while the getting is good.” He snagged a set of clean clothes, gave me a little salute and disappeared into the washroom.
I stared at the closed door for a minute, then looked around the room.
I was in trouble.
***
I had managed to calm myself down by the time Rio emerged from the bathroom, and I went in and had a nice, long shower. I carefully did not imagine eyes the color of dark chocolate and warm solid muscles as I took myself in hand, and when I emerged I was fresh, clean, and ready to face the day.
Rio was on his laptop in the chair he had tried to sleep in the night before. “Marcus sent some things,” he said. “They found the car from the drive-by abandoned, no surprise. No prints except the owners. One shell casing between the front seat and center console. Running ballistics. It”s probably not registered, but it might be linked to other shootings.”
I nodded. “I wonder how Casimir is.” Worry about him had been a constant low white noise in the back of my mind.
“Do you know any of his family? Maybe you could check in.” Rio’s expression was that of true concern.
“I… no. But maybe they would give him a message if I called the hospital? I wonder if he has his phone.”
Rio shrugged. “Worth a try.”
I picked up my phone and frowned, wondering if he had been taken to the closest hospital to where the shooting happened. In the end I decided that I would just call his phone. It had been in his pocket, and so I knew it would be in a safe until he was alert enough to ask for it. It went to voicemail, of course, and I left a message saying that I was thinking of him and I hoped he was getting good care.
After that, Rio and I went to breakfast and then the department store, got some snacks and a couple of other things, and then went back to the motel room.
“What do you do when you”re waiting to see if the police catch the psychos who want to kill you?” I asked Rio, and he burst out laughing, which made me give him a dirty look. He reined it in after a minute but couldn”t talk until he had a sip of his Coca-Cola.
“You wait,” he answered finally. “Watch Sherlock.” He gestured to my laptop. “Or draw.”
I sighed, picked up my paper, and got comfortable.
A couple of hours passed and I was startled from my shading work by my phone ringing. I flipped my pad closed and checked the screen, then scrambled to answer. “Hello?”
“Saint.” Cas sounded wrecked, his voice raspy, but I was so glad to hear it.
“Cas! How are you doing?” I saw Rio”s head come up from the game he had been playing on his laptop.
“I’m still here,” Cas replied. I heard him swallow. “Are you both okay?”
“Yeah, we are. We ended up leaving town yesterday morning. How is your leg? Did you get hit anywhere else?”
“No, nowhere else… the leg. Well. They had to take it,” Cas said quietly.
“Wha– You mean they– they had to amputate?” I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. My stubbornness had cost Cas his leg. I felt Rio’s hand on my shoulder then, and I leaned into his body without conscious thought.
“Yeah,” Cas rasped. “The bone… They told me it was in splinters. Better quality of life on a prosthetic than if they’d tried to put it back together.”
“I am so sorry, Cas, I am. I j– If there is anything I can do, anything, any time,” I began, but he cut me off with a soft sound.
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “And Rio saved my life, I’d have bled to death. Tell him thank you. I… need to go. I’m tired, Saint. I have my phone now though, text me, okay?”
“Of course,” I said. “Of course. Cas, I’m serious. Anything. I promise.”
“You just keep safe. I know they’re looking for them, my chief was here and there’s been a temporary lift on the overtime cap, and there’s a federal agent on the case too. Linked the spider and the shooting. It’s big, Saint, but…” he breathed softly for a minute. “I need to sleep now.”
“Go to sleep, Cas. I’ll text you. I’m so sorry, again.”
We hung up, and then I looked up at Rio. It was nice, a small part of my mind thought, looking up at him for a change. “They had to take his leg,” I said. “Too badly broken, he had a better prognosis with a prosthetic than trying to repair it. He said you saved his life though. He said thank you.”
Rio smiled, a sad, world-weary thing, and I wondered if he had heard those words before overseas. “I’m glad I was there to help, and prosthetics can be awesome things. He’s tough, he’ll be okay.”
I nodded slowly, looking down at my hands. The only thing I could think was if I had listened to Rio at the shelter instead of shouting at him, if I had simply done as he had suggested then, Cas would still be okay, still be whole.
I pulled in a huge breath and put my face in my hands, while Rio stood over me on watch.