Resting Quietly
DEAN’S FRIEND, Lloyd Hemmer, got there first.
A tall, rangy, weathered man, Lloyd walked into the room wearing a fleece zip-up, black sweats, and a badge at his waist that Reg didn’t recognize, but that made the two security agents and the two sheriff’s deputies who’d joined them in Reynaldo’s hospital room all shut up and back away.
Their newly cuffed Bratva member hunched sullenly in the corner, glaring at everybody, but as soon as he saw the sparkle at Lloyd’s waist, his eyes went shiny with tears, and he let out an audible whimper.
Well, Reg might not know what rank Lloyd Hemmer was, but everybody else did.
And as Lloyd’s eyes swept the room, they fell on Reg, anchored to Anthony’s side, and lit up. He apparently recognized Reg.
“You look just like your brother,” he said, walking forward to extend his hand. Reg took it, shored up a little by the firmness, the confidence in his grip. He had the same sort of quality Anthony had, and that gave Reg some badly needed courage.
“Mr. Hemmer?”
“Lloyd,” the man said gently. “I’m so pleased to meet you.
” He glanced around the room. “Okay then, boys, you need to take this one to the precinct jail. Take his prints, but don’t send them in yet.
We need to have a talk. His group has gone out of its way to get hold of young Reynaldo here, and I’m pretty sure the only reason they didn’t shoot on sight is that the branch leader’s nephew is with him.
” He leaned to the side and gave Ilia a kind smile. “Am I right there, son?”
Ilia nodded unhappily, but Lloyd gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Many points for loyalty, young man—the right kind, not the kind that’s getting this one thrown in prison for many, many years.”
Ilia swallowed and nodded, and Reg broke away from Anthony long enough to offer the young man a hand.
“He’s a friend of my brother’s,” Reg repeated.
“Remember? Dean said he was going to get somebody to help us get through this. He’s the guy.
It’ll be okay.” And then Reg turned his gaze beseechingly to Lloyd Hemmer.
“It will, right?” he asked hesitantly. “Please, sir—they’ve been through so much.
It’s scary, hauling kids through something like the last four days and telling them they’ll be at the promised land, because people used to say that about my country too. ”
Lloyd nodded sadly. “Don’t fret, son. It can be that way again.
But for now, let me assure you that your young friends will be treated well and protected.
And so will you. How about you all sit down here, reassure your sick young man, and let me take care of the criminal.
I understand your brothers are on their way, and when they get here, the three of you can find a hotel, a shower, and maybe some food.
” He gave Ilia a reassuring wink. “I’ve got a couple of kids your age—I wouldn’t be surprised if you could bankrupt a buffet right now. ”
Ilia gave a tremulous smile. “As long as we can bring some to Reynaldo.”
Reynaldo, who had followed the conversation with half-lidded eyes, gave a sigh. “Not so hungry right now, but once these other assholes are gone, I could definitely sleep.”
Lloyd chuckled softly. “Understood.” He turned to Reg and Anthony. “You two did right by your young friends. Let us take it from here.”
TWO HOURS later, as Reg and Anthony dozed on each other’s shoulders and Ilia slept on a cot one of the nurses had brought in, they heard a frantic woman’s voice.
“Reynaldo? Reynaldo, are you there?”
As the three of them struggled to sit up and wake up, Adelle rushed in, pointed unerringly toward Reynaldo’s cot. “Oh, baby boy,” she sobbed. “Sweetheart—look at you!”
“The doctors said I’ll be okay,” Reynaldo mumbled. “The antibiotics and stuff—it’s working. Just, you know….” He gave Reg, Anthony, and Ilia a quiet smile. “It was sort of a sucky road trip.”
Adelle turned her attention from her nephew, after a few kisses to his cheek, and took in the three of them, still road-weary and—Reg could admit it now that the sun was slanting into afternoon—hungry.
“And you three,” she said, holding her hand to her mouth.
“God, Ilia. All of you. What you have done.” She gave a little sob and then came to hug Anthony first, then Reg, and then Ilia.
Ilia she clung to, kissing the boy’s head and rocking him back and forth.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be your family as long as you need me, sweet boy. Thank you. Thank you.”
And that was when Dean and Val poked their heads in, and Anthony shoved Reg gently from behind so he could go greet his own family.
He found himself sandwiched between Val and Dean, hugged so tightly he couldn’t breathe, and then they pulled Anthony into the embrace, and then his mother and Anthony’s father arrived and it was all of them, and his head spun because his family always did that to him, and he couldn’t remember much after that because everybody was speaking at once.
THE HOTEL came first, and Reg was bemused to see that his mother grabbed Ilia as a roommate—she would switch with Adelle at the hospital later that night—and Dean opted to room with Val and Rory.
Nobody actually looked at him and asked, but apparently the idea that he and Anthony would be in the same room—and the same bed, judging by the room key Dean slid into his hand—was a done deal.
The first thing they’d done was fall upon the takeout that Dean had bought them on the way to the hospital, and the second was to hit the shower, Anthony first, while Reg charged Anthony’s phone and booted up the new one Val had brought him.
Both the brothers seemed to need to say something to him as they’d given him food and—oh thank God—electronics, but neither of them had the words for it.
For his part, Reg was just… exhausted. With worry, with emotions, with everything.
He barely noticed as Anthony emerged from the shower wearing his last clean T-shirt and briefs. Reg could only be jealous that he was clean, with brushed teeth and hair that didn’t cling to his scalp with oil.
Twenty minutes later Reg came out of his own shower feeling more human—but more embarrassed.
“What’s that look?” Anthony asked from the bed. He was propped up, sitting on top of the covers, wearing a crisp pair of sleep pants and an unfamiliar T-shirt with a fish emblazoned on it, along with the words Sooke Harbor.
“Where’d my clothes go?” Reg asked, puzzled, clutching the towel around his waist firmly. “I… I left out my sleep pants and some underwear and—oh.”
Anthony winked at him and nodded to a similar outfit laid out on the dresser.
“Your mother stopped by with a bag of new clothes. And other stuff. I think there’s an outfitters nearby, and she guessed at the sizes.
She also,” he added, grimacing, “stole our backpacks for laundry, leaving only the shaving kits. And brought us snacks.”
Reg blinked, trying to clear the fog out of his head. “Why would she do that?”
“Well, she had strict instructions for neither of us to leave the hotel room until the continental breakfast was available in the lobby. I don’t know if she knows exactly how that sounds, but since I know we both need some of that time to actually sleep, I’m going to take it at face value.”
Reg was awake enough to smile at that at least. “Here, let me—” He picked up the bag of clothing, only to feel Anthony’s eyes on him. “Uhm….” He turned and met Anthony’s gaze, and the moment changed.
“Uhm,” he said again, right before a yawn took over his entire body. When it was done, he was aware that Anthony’s steady regard hadn’t changed one bit.
“I want to sleep too,” Anthony said softly. “But I want you in my arms. I’ll take off my T-shirt and pajamas if you leave yours off. Is that a deal?”
Reg nodded, knowing that Anthony could see the uneven blush that worked its way up his entire pale body. But still when he rifled through the bag, he took one of the pairs of underwear—briefs—and left the sleep pants alone.
In a moment he was dressed, his teeth were brushed, and he was ready to crawl into bed.
He half anticipated, half dreaded Anthony’s touch on his skin—he was so tired.
But so was Anthony, and after he’d rolled to his side and curled up into the self-protective little ball that knew it was safe in the world, Anthony made himself comfortable curling behind Reg, his arm reaching around his stomach, much like he had when they’d slept in the same bed before.
The only difference was intent, Reg thought muzzily. This wasn’t just sleep. It wasn’t just huddling for comfort.
There was sex here, when they both were ready.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t worry about the consequences of being this close to a human being he cared for. After the last four days, there were so many worse things to fear.
SOMETIME IN the night—after the sun had gone down, although Reg didn’t check the phone he’d left charging by the bed—he got up to use the bathroom and to brush his teeth, because he’d been sleeping with his mouth open and his tongue was dry. It was something he’d done since childhood.
When he came back to crawl into bed, Anthony was awake, gazing at him in the faint ambient light that edged the curtain.
“What’s up?” Reg asked as he scooted back into their warm cocoon.
“Me,” Anthony said, smiling a little. “Have you had enough rest? Did you catch your second wind?”
Reg smiled back shyly. “Maybe,” he answered, licking his lips.
“Killing me, Registrar. Killing me.” And then he kissed Reg, gently at first, but Reg found himself responding with increasing pressure, with urgency, as Anthony pushed himself up on one elbow and took over the kiss completely, delving his tongue in again and again and again, until Reg moaned and gave himself over, not caring what happened next as long as their touch, their connection, didn’t end.