Duty and Devotion (12 page)

Shane put his hands up. “Go on, see to your boyfriend. Bennet and I got Daisy, and the cops are here. It's all good.”

Evan nodded at the young man, sparing a glance at Matt before heading toward the chair in the corner where the EMTs had Jim sitting. The other man had an ice pack to his head and some bloody gauze around his knuckles as the technician took his blood pressure.

The grousing could be heard within a few steps.

“I'm fine, okay? Fine. I can go back to the hotel.”

“Jim?” Griffin went to stand next to him, his hand gentle on his shoulder. “Jim, Matt and Evan are here.”

Jim looked up, and Evan could see the split lip and bruised cheek as well. “You got the call?”

“My partner was with the lead detective and let me know.” He looked at Jim sympathetically. “How bad?”

“We're concerned about a concussion,” the EMT started, but Jim waved her off.

“I'm fine. I've been knocked around before, and I don't have a concussion. I'm going to have a headache in the morning, but that's it. I'd like to get the hell out of here.” He looked up at Evan, full scowl on his face. “Can you give us a lift?”

Evan looked at the tech who seemed exasperated but not overly insistent. “Sure, we can take you to the hotel. Griffin, are you going to feel okay keeping an eye on Jim? Checking for signs of a concussion?”

Griffin's face turned a lighter shade of white, but he nodded. “Yeah—I can do that.”

“Yes, he can do that. Now, I'm leaving.” Jim stood up defiantly and quite possibly willed himself to not even sway. Evan was impressed. “I'm keeping your ice pack.”

The EMT snapped closed her kit. “Fine. Consider it a gift from the people of New York.”

“Fabulous.”

Griffin and Evan flanked Jim, walking him over to where Matt was waiting. Evan noticed his boyfriend speaking to a dark-haired man who had protective arms around a petite woman.

“Hey, nice black eye,” Matt said as they approached. “You harass the paramedic until she let you go?”

“Yeah, better get me out of here before she changes her mind.”

“Oh Jim,” the redhead sniffled, coming out from the other man's embrace. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Jim didn't seem in the mood for the conversation; Evan held him up while Griffin reached over to kiss the woman's cheek.

“You okay, Daisy Mae?”

She nodded tearfully.

“All right, then we need to get Jim back to the hotel. I'll call you tomorrow.”

“I can send the limo around…” The man said, but Evan shook his head.

“Our SUV is parked right outside. We can get him through the crowds and out of here quicker.”

“Give me your keys, I'll have Barney let me drive a little closer,” Matt said. Evan tossed him the set from his pocket. “Mr. Aames—remember what I said about when you leave here.”

Bennet nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Haight.”

The other man, Shane Lowry, returned with coats and purses and bags, lugging them like a caddy. “Come on, the limo is out back, and the paps are being held in the front. We need to leave now.”

Daisy threw her arms around Griffin, who hugged her back with one arm—the other securely around Jim's middle. Evan caught the bulk of his weight, his arm draped around the other man's back. He fought back the feelings of being uncomfortable and kept his professional face on.

“I'll call you tomorrow, promise,” Griffin said, kissing the woman on the top of the head. She was then bustled off between the two men and out the door, her feet barely touching the floor.

“I'm never going to a play again,” Jim mumbled.

Evan drove them to their hotel; Matt got out and spoke to the manager about a back entrance to get them up to their room. Jim didn't want to walk through the lobby looking beat-up—which Evan totally understood.

Evan also understood Jim could deal with this. It was near routine in his mind, a reflex action that resulted in some bumps and bruises. No big deal.

Griffin, however, hadn't said two words since the theater, and now, even as Matt and Evan helped Jim onto the bed, he was silent.

“I'll get you guys some ice. The manager is sending up coffee and water and some extra towels,” Matt said.

Jim mumbled something and toed off his shoes, sinking into the pile of pillows behind him. Evan glanced at Griffin and saw the trembling taking over his slender form.

“Hey, Griffin, let's go into the other room for a second—Jim, you just call if you need anything,” Evan said.

Griffin followed, running his hands through his hair as he walked the length of the suite.

“Uh—you need anything?” Evan asked, watching as the young man tugged at his hair.

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

Evan blinked.

“I'm concerned about you and Jim. That must've been pretty scary.”

“Scary? No shit. All of a sudden I see this crazy guy jumping at Daisy, and Jim's right there, stopping him and throwing him down, and the guy—the guy just goes nuts, screaming and punching, and then it's over, and I…” Griffin stopped, gasping for air. “I realized he had a gun. Jim got a gun away from him.”

Evan nodded slowly. “You've never seen anything like that before, I'm sure.”

“Understatement.” Griffin's knees got wobbly, and he sat down on the couch, hard. “So right now I'm running on a continuous loop of what would have happened if Jim hadn't gotten to him in time and he killed Daisy, or what if he had gotten Jim while they were struggling, and then I kinda want to throw up.” He put his head in his hands and shook.

Evan sat down on the coffee table in front of him, close enough to be comforting but hopefully not intrusive.

“Neither of those things happened.”

“They could have.”

“Yeah, they could have, but they didn't. And that moment is over, and you can move on. Worst-case scenarios about the past aren't really going to help you. Or Jim.”

Griffin sighed. “Yeah.”

“And I'm—I'm sorry it took this for me to be nice to you.” Evan cleared his throat.

“Yeah. This is sort of one of those perspective things, right?”

“Right.” Evan smiled in spite of himself. The door behind them rattled and opened, with Matt and the filled ice bucket being followed by a rolling cart. Evan turned around and noticed Matt frowning.

“What's wrong?”

“The security in this place is shit,” he said, putting the ice bucket down on the table. “I don't want reporters trying to get up here.”

“There are reporters at this hotel?”

“Yeah, and they probably followed your friends too.”

“Shit.”

Evan stood up and tipped the waitstaff who were listening and watching as he shooed them out the door. “You might want to change hotels in the morning. How long are you here for?”

“We're booked here until Wednesday, then we were going to make a decision on going home.” Griffin looked back toward the bedroom. “I'm going to check on Jim. If we're changing hotels, it won't be until Jim feels better.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah. I hate leaving you guys without a line of defense, though.”

Evan saw the vulnerable expression on Griffin's face and the look of concern on Matt's and made a decision—the only one that made sense at the moment.

“Matt, why don't you stay here tonight—sleep on the couch. That way Griffin doesn't have to worry about anything but Jim.”

He got a double look of surprise.

“Tomorrow we'll figure out where you should go. Maybe we can find a private residence for you instead of a hotel, so there won't be records.”

Matt was smiling at him—still calculating in his head but smiling. Evan smiled back.

“Great idea. If it's okay with you, Griffin.”

“Sure, thanks.” Griffin got up and started walking back toward the bedroom. “I'm going to check on Jim and probably just stay in there so—thanks for staying Matt, and take whatever you need and, uh, Evan—thanks. A lot.” He gave them a wave and closed the bedroom door behind him.

“He's freaked out. Make sure he gets some sleep,” Evan said—then felt Matt's arms go around him.

“You may be a jealous dick, but you always come through in a crisis,” he murmured, and Evan returned the embrace tightly.

“I'm sorry about dinner. The stick in my ass was poking my brain, and I didn't remember my manners.”

“Lovely visual, thanks.” Matt kissed him on the mouth. “I'm still kinda pissed off, but I don't have the energy to deal with it now.”

Evan nodded. He deserved it. “Fair enough. Let me note again—really, really sorry. No excuses.”

“True.” Matt sighed. “Will deal with it later. I have to keep my head in this game for the moment.”

Evan gave Matt a sincere smile. “You want me to stay?”

“Nah, I got this. And I don't think you're gonna want to leave the kids all alone the whole night.”

Evan shook his head—he hadn't even thought of that. “Well, there goes Dad of the Year again.”

“Shut up—I'll call you in the morning.” Matt kissed him again, and when he would have pulled away, Evan deepened the kiss, angling his mouth to delve his tongue deeply around Matt's.

They separated slowly, and Matt's eyes fluttered open with a question in them.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” Evan murmured.

Matt shrugged. “I love you. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I'm trying—just know that.”

“Me too.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“Curb my need to throw you down on the couch and do dirty things to you?”

Evan blushed and took a step back. “You're on guard duty.”

“When I'm off duty?”

“I'll see you at home.”

Evan slept alone in his bed that night, for the first time, he realized, since he and Matt bought the house.

He hated it.

He rolled over, face down, trying to shut out the cavernous emptiness of the room without Matt. He tried to sleep, but the tension of the evening, the sudden shift in emotions—meeting the infamous Jim—it kept him awake.

The infamous Jim of the phone calls and the one-night and the book. Ridiculously good-looking and smooth, and so very much in love with young Griffin Drake. When Evan had gotten over the fact that his “competition” in Matt's male lover category was gorgeous, he'd had to contend with his own uncomfortable envy of the way Jim and Griffin interacted in the restaurant.

They were a couple—no apologies, no glancing around to see who was looking, no hiding their relationship. And here was Evan, nearly jumping out of his skin whenever Matt came too close.

He tried to imagine taking Sherri to dinner and treating her like a business acquaintance. He tried to imagine living long enough to try and explain to her he didn't want complete strangers knowing about them being in love.

Shame coursed through him.

Evan thought he'd taken such a huge step when he invited Matt back into their lives. But he was realizing that he hadn't gone all the way.

He needed to be entirely honest with himself before he could expect to be honest with Matt. Or his kids. Or the rest of the world, for that matter.

Evan tossed and turned until daylight crept into the bedroom. Still so many questions and not enough answers.

Chapter Thirteen

The squad room hit its usual Monday morning madness level by eight a.m. Burning on only a few hours sleep, Evan was on his second cup of coffee, running names through a database, when a shadow loomed over his desk.

“Evan Cerelli?” a man's voice asked.

Evan looked up at the young uniformed officer and nodded. “Yes?”

“Hi, I'm Jesse Masters with GOAL.”

Evan extended his hand. “GOAL?”

“Gay Officers Action League. We're a fraternal order of criminal justice professionals. I wanted to introduce myself.”

He glanced around to see if anyone was watching or listening; his fellow detective Moses was the closest to his desk, and he was very clearly listening.

“Nice to meet you.” Evan stood up and glanced around, wondering if there was a private space they could took.

“Chris Callas gave me your name—I hope you don't mind.”

“No, no, of course not.” Evan tried to remember if he knew Chris was a lesbian and realized he had no clue one way or another. Helena never mentioned it.

“I was hoping you might be able to make our next monthly meeting. Second Tuesday of every month at The Center on West 13th Street.”

“Meeting? Gosh, I don't know, to be honest. I have a commute to Queens and four kids to get home to.” Evan smiled politely. “But if you have a card or something I'll definitely keep it in mind.”

Jesse reached into his uniform for his wallet and pulled out a card. “Yes, please. I hope you'll consider it. We have a great group of people, lots of events and gatherings. There are many families, so we'd love it if your kids and your partner could join us.”

For a split second Evan thought “Helena” but realized that Jesse meant Matt.

And for a moment he was afraid.

But Jesse was still smiling, young and friendly, so clearly hoping that Evan would agree to come to his group's meeting. Evan looked down at the card in his hand. “Second Tuesday, you said?”

“Yes, that's right. If you need directions or have any questions, please feel free to give me a call.”

Evan extended his hand. “Sure, Jesse—thank you. I'll let you know.”

As he watched the young man turn and leave, Evan felt eyes strong and steady on his back. He turned and gave Moses a glare.

“Can I help you?”

Moses shrugged. “Nah. I was just eavesdropping. Heard everything I wanted to.”

Evan resisted the urge to give him the finger.

“How's Jim feeling?” Evan asked when he called Matt a few hours later.

“Sore and grouchy. I'm pretty sure the latter is a fairly constant thing. Griffin said it's a sure sign he's okay.”

“How are you doing?”

“I want my toothbrush and clean underwear.” Matt sighed through the line. “But Griffin's still jumpy, and I'll feel better when they're checked into someplace no one knows about.”

“About that—Helena's mom's place is a studio, but she's been staying at Vic's, so it's free.”

“Tsk, tsk, kids today. Living in sin. Doing it like fiends before they even exchange vows…”

“Boss. Best friend's mother. Please refrain.”