Chapter 12 #2
The old man who owned the corner store just outside of their neighborhood hadn’t been popular with anyone, and he was known to keep a shotgun under the counter, so the neighborhood punks tended to leave him alone.
All except for Ray’s older brother, whose name Andre couldn’t even remember.
But he did remember Ray claiming that the old man was going to pay for having shot his brother and gotten him sent to prison for attempting to rob him.
Six months later, Mr. Kingman had been dead, stabbed multiple times and left to expire in a puddle of his own blood before he could get to his gun.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You killed him because of your brother.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll swear it was you!
” Ray snarled. “Just give me the money, and it all goes away. You’ll never see me again.
” Desperation crept into his tone as he read the disbelief on Andre’s face.
“Look, I owe some guys. Really bad guys, the kind that dump you into the harbor wrapped in chains. I swear I’ll disappear and never say a word. Just give me the money!”
Andre felt anger rising. He’d let Sibila control him based on fear, and Ray was trying to do the same thing. But Dmitri had helped him see that Sibila’s actions were on her, not on him — and the same was true for Ray.
“That’s something you have to deal with on your own.
You made your mistakes, and you should pay for them because I’m sure as hell not.
There is no evidence against me other than whatever lies you tell.
” He took a slow step forward, holding Ray’s gaze.
If Ray decided to use that knife, Andre was determined to stop him.
“Yeah, you think your record company and your fans won’t care if you’re even accused of murder, Mr. Moneybags?
” Ray flung the words at him, but Andre could see he was on the verge of panic.
There really must be some bad people on Ray’s trail to make him resort to a direct confrontation.
“I’m not fucking around! Fifty grand is nothing to you! ”
If Andre had learned one lesson during his early years, it was that a desperate man was a very, very dangerous man.
He tried to think of any argument that would pull Ray back from the edge.
Hell, he didn’t even care about the money at this point.
He just wanted Dmitri to be safe. He wanted the chance to discover what could develop between them now that Andre was finally ready to cast away the chains of fear that had been holding him back.
It wasn’t fucking fair for him to have come so far and now have Ray come back into his life like some boogeyman from a nightmare and threaten everything.
But he didn’t know what to do or how to get Ray away from Dmitri without risking the situation escalating out of control.
Dmitri laughed derisively, his tone taunting.
“Shows how much you don’t know about this business.
More of our fans would relate better to Andre being blackmailed and harassed by a cheap punk ass bully than if he’d grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth,” Dmitri said, and Ray’s eyes shifted, almost as if he’d forgotten Dmitri was there.
Andre, too, was surprised by the mockery, almost as if Dmitri wanted Ray to go after him.
The tableau held for a breathless moment. Then Ray’s face twisted, turning almost purple as the words hit home. He raised the knife, rage flashing in his eyes, and Andre knew beyond any doubt that he was going to stab Dmitri.
He was going to try to kill the man Andre loved.
Andre moved faster than he ever had in his life. He couldn’t let Ray hurt Dmitri, couldn’t let his own past destroy one of the people who was most important to him in the world. He was beyond thinking, and didn’t care about the consequences to himself as long as Dmitri was safe.
He lunged toward Ray, fury propelling him forward as Dmitri dove in the other direction, slamming his hand down on the door button while also mercifully removing himself from harm’s way.
It had been a long time since Andre had been in a fight.
Ray was a big man, but Andre was stronger now than he’d been as a teenager — and he had the element of surprise along.
Years of drumming had built and toned his muscles, and the moves he’d learned from years of fighting dirty just to survive on the rough streets of LA had stayed with him.
His right hand flashed out to catch the wrist of Ray’s knife hand, while at the same time, he lifted a knee and drove it into Ray’s crotch.
It wasn’t the first time he’d gone against someone bigger than he was, and he was propelled by a protective fury unlike anything he’d felt before.
The breath left Ray in a rush as the agony of having his testicles rammed made him fold forward, and Andre dug his thumb mercilessly into the sensitive tendon between the bones of his wrist. Reflexively, Ray’s hand opened, and the knife fell with a clatter to the floor.
Releasing Ray’s wrist, Andre brought his elbow down hard on the back of Ray’s bent head, and then he stepped back as the heavy man fell to the floor, out cold.
Breathing hard, he looked for Dmitri, but he stopped short when he realized two men stood on the steps leading into the bus with guns drawn.
One of them was as short and slender as Dmitri, with auburn hair and huge blue eyes that were wide with surprise.
The other was big and muscular, with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a smirk curved his lips.
“So much for hostages,” the big man said. “I guess these guys were the self-rescuing kind.”
“So it seems,” the shorter one answered, lowering his gun and giving Andre a grin. “If you ever need a job, let us know. That was a sweet takedown.”
Dmitri looked up from where he’d thrown himself to the floor, blinking at Andre in surprise. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Andre rushed to pull Dmitri to his feet and then into his arms, holding him in a crushing embrace. “Damn you, Dmitri! What the fuck did you think you were doing? He could have killed you!”
Dmitri gave a twitch of surprise, but then his arms went around Andre in return, clinging to him as if Andre were the only solid thing in a universe gone mad.
Andre could feel Dmitri’s heart pounding as fast as his own, and the relief Andre felt was so overwhelming that he felt his eyes burning and his throat growing painfully tight.
Someone cleared their throat, and Andre raised his head to look over at the two men who were watching them in amusement. “Um, sorry. And just who are you guys?” He probably should have been more alarmed at strange men with guns being so close, and his arms tightened around Dmitri protectively.
“I’m Able, and this is Pita. We’re part of the security detail for Queen Anne’s Revenge,” the larger man explained. “We saw that guy enter the bus and didn’t recognize him as part of your band, so we were keeping an eye out. When we heard the raised voices, we, um… well, we have methods.”
Pita laughed. “We hacked your bus’s internal cameras, saw the asshole threatening you, then came over to help.” He pointed to Dmitri. “You saw us outside, didn’t you? Nice work on the distraction. We were trying to decide if we should knock politely or just blow the door in.”
Dmitri smiled crookedly. “I recognized you hanging around QAR’s bus, and when I saw your guns, I figured the cavalry had arrived.
Either that, or the guys this idiot owes money to had found him.
” He turned his gaze up to Andre, his blue eyes warm and filled with admiration.
“But you were the real hero! I never knew that you could fight like that!”
“It’s been a while,” Andre admitted. “But I couldn’t let him hurt you.”
“So, can we take this asshole into custody?” Able asked, pulling a thick zip tie from the pocket of his jacket.
“We aren’t official venue security, but we know them, and they’ll handle turning him over to the cops.
You’ll have to give statements, but no doubt the footage from your security cameras will be plenty of evidence. ”
“I didn’t even know we had security cameras,” Andre admitted, shaking his head. “But yes, please do whatever you want with him.”
Pita and Able moved past and secured Ray’s wrists before rousing him and hauling him to his feet.
They were as professional as any cops Andre had ever seen, with Pita even producing a ziplock bag and using it to pick up and secure the knife.
Ray was either too dazed from the clout to his head or had decided he was in enough shit without opening his mouth and ramming his foot into it, because he limited himself to sullen glares as Pita and Able removed him from the bus.
Once they were alone again, Andre released his death grip on Dmitri, his pulse finally beginning to slow.
He stepped back, wondering if Dmitri would be completely through with him after this.
Not only had Andre caused him doubt and pain, but now he’d even endangered his life.
How could Andre expect Dmitri to keep on forgiving him and sticking by him after all he’d put him through?
Strangely enough, Dmitri was still smiling. “Not how I was planning to spend my evening,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Me? You’re worried about me?” Andre was suddenly agitated, and he ran a hand through his hair. Oddly enough, he was annoyed with Dmitri for seeming to take it all in stride, like a psycho threatening him with a knife was an everyday occurrence. “Dmitri, you could have been killed! Because of me!”
“But I wasn’t,” Dmitri pointed out, his voice soft. “I wasn’t worried about what he might do to me. I was afraid he’d hurt you. After all the shit you’ve been through with Sibila, I was worried that Miguel might lose his father, and I’d lose you.”
“But I could have lost you!” Andre shot back.
“How can you take this so calmly?” Then the absurdity of what he’d said caught up with him, and he threw his hands up in the air.
“God, why am I upset with you? You didn’t do anything wrong!
Except maybe scare the shit out of me when you taunted him like that. ”
Dmitri looked at him pensively, then stepped closer, laying a warm hand on Andre’s arm. “It’s okay. It’s adrenaline, like coming down off a performance high, but not nearly as pleasant. That’s why I’m not freaking out, because I know why I feel like punching something.”
Looking at Dmitri, at his warm eyes, at the boyish features Andre had long ago committed to memory, he suddenly didn’t feel like punching something.
Life was precious, and seeing Dmitri’s life at risk had made him realize that putting off any potential relationship until some mythical “right time” was stupid.
They weren’t guaranteed a tomorrow, and he’d realized that he’d definitely let fear of losing Miguel control his life for far too long.
If he’d stood up before now and stopped letting Sibila’s threats get to him, he would have reported Ray’s initial letter to the cops, preventing what had just happened.
More importantly, he and Dmitri would be together, probably would have been together for a long time.
“I don’t want to punch anything,” he said, reaching out to lay one hand against Dmitri’s cheek. “What I’d like very much is to go back in time and change a lot of things. But since I can’t, maybe I can change the future from this point.”
Dmitri smiled, rubbing his cheek against Andre’s palm. The smile was back on his face, and this time it was sensual. “Oh? Dare I ask what you might change?”
Andre stepped closer. “I’d very much like to change our sleeping arrangements. Well, not so much on the bus, I guess, but next time we are in a hotel, I’d like to share a bed.”
Laughing, Dmitri slid his arms around Andre’s waist. “Are you sure? Because I definitely think that can be arranged.”
“I’m sure.” Now Andre’s heart was beating fast again, but not in fear. “I haven’t been able to say it, Dmitri, but I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
“I love you, too,” Dmitri replied, and his blue eyes were luminous with joy. “You’re sure about this? You want to be open, even if it means potentially giving Sibila ammunition?”
“Fuck Sibila,” Andre growled. “We belong together. I won’t deny it any longer.”
With that, he lowered his head and captured Dmitri’s lips. Dmitri responded eagerly, the heat between them flaring high and hot.
Lost in the kiss, neither of them heard the door of the bus open, or the quiet footsteps mounting the stairs. Luka stopped, smiling as he watched them for a moment, before he turned and left as silently as he had come.