Foster Siblings 3: Brokedown Hearts (24 page)

Pausing General’s bath again, David looked over his shoulder at Sam. “What stuff?” He’d never been entrusted with the shelter’s truck or asked to do a pickup before.

“She got the heads-up that there’s a big markdown on some dog food at one of the grocery stores in town. She wants you to clean them out.”

David’s gaze slid to a line of full temporary kennels against the wall. “I still have four more guys waiting for baths.”

With a shrug, Sam tucked his hands in his pockets and shifted to lean against the door frame. “I’d do it myself, but Roy is waiting for me to go with him to pick up a malnourished horse. I’m the only one besides him with lots of experience and training handling horses.”

“I understand.” David’s back knotted in spasms right then.
Hunching over washing dogs for too many hours. Shoot
. He bent at the waist to work out the kink while still holding on to General with one hand.
God, that’s nice
. Looking at Sam from his position half bent sideways, he nodded at the kid. “Good luck.”

Sam waved, pushed off, and walked away. Less than three seconds later, he popped his head back into the room. “Hey. You want to pick up some lunch for us while you’re in town? We can eat together later.” He patted his front and back pockets and then grinned sheepishly. “I’ll pay you back when I get my check cashed.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Even if the kid never gave him the money, Lord knew the rides he’d given David were worth more than one meal. “I’ll pick some stuff up and see you in the break room in a few hours.”

Right then Roy, a rough, hardened guy, strode by and grabbed Sam by the ear. David heard him mutter, “I told you not to keep me waiting,” at the same time Sam shouted from down the hall, “Get me a Cuban sandwich and fries! I’ve been craving them for days!”

Chuckling at the antics of his coworkers—people he was starting to loosen up around and like—David looked over at the lineup of mutts waiting to be bathed. “You guys just got a reprieve.” He then put his full attention back on General, who’d been an absolute doll while standing around soaked in water and soap. “But I’ll make sure you’re all clean and dry and handsome before I take you back to your kennels.” David picked up speed in his scrubbing but made sure not to scratch the dog’s sensitive skin. “Who knows? Maybe today could be your day. I want you to look your best, just in case.”

General woofed and slobbered a wet kiss across David’s face.

Laughing, David wiped drool off his cheek and kissed the dog on his soapy head. “Thank you. I’m happy to do it.”

Then he got back to the bath double time. Erin would understand the short delay, but he still didn’t want her to have to wait.

* * * *

With the van loaded down with two dozen jumbo-sized bags of dog food—the shelter animals would eat it all before the quickly approaching expiration date—David paid for his and Sam’s lunch, thanked the woman behind the counter as he took his to-go bag, and sidestepped his way through the late-lunch crowd to get outside.

David pushed through the door, and for the second time in one day, he stopped on a dime.
Oh my God
. Old anxiety spiked in David’s core, and his mouth went dry.
It’s him.

Someone shoved David from behind, muttering, “Get out of the doorway, jerk,” and he stumbled into Christian, his former on-the-down-low boyfriend and guy he’d stalked for months.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Before David fully regained his balance, he clutched his paper bag with one hand and pushed away from Christian with the other. Instant paranoia that he’d be arrested again swamped David, and he clutched the bag to his chest like a shield. “Chris, hi.” David’s glands barely produced saliva, and his lips stuck to his teeth. “I promise I wasn’t following you.”

“Of course not.” A gentle kindness, something that had attracted David to Christian all the way back to when they were teens, filled the man’s voice and softened his stare. He glanced down at David’s chest. “I can see you were picking up food.”

Next to Christian stood a tall woman with a stylish mess of red hair. David remembered her as Abby, a good friend of Christian’s. She’d never liked David; David was sure of that. She shifted her focus between Christian and David. “Uh…I can go inside and get us a table.” Immediately, though, she looked to Christian and grabbed his forearm. “If that’s what you want?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, Christian squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Abby.”

Both men held still, in silence, while Abby went inside. David wished he had his bottle of water that sat in the van, or better, one of the bottles of beer in his fridge at the motel. As it was, he held tightly to the rolled-up top of the to-go bag.

David had tried not to think too extensively about what would happen when he eventually ran into Christian in town. Truth was, he’d tried not to think about or focus on Christian at all. Fear that he would build an obsession with the man again had terrified David from well before he’d been released. Since returning to Coleman, David had made a concerted effort to keep his time in public to a minimum in hopes of lessening chances for contact.

If only Sam had wanted a burger instead of a Cuban sandwich.

With his hands tucked in the pockets of his cargo shorts, his dark hair neatly combed, and his white T-shirt pulling snugly across his compact but taut frame, Christian looked the picture of health and easy vitality.

Tongue-tied, a thousand things rushing through his brain, all poking at his anxiety, David blurted, “I know you spoke for me at my arraignment. I know you came to see me when I was catatonic. I never had the opportunity to say it in person, but thank you for that. It was more than I deserved, and it made a big difference in my sentence and recovery.”

“You’re welcome.” Stepping out of the flow of foot traffic, Christian touched David’s elbow and moved him aside too. “I always believed you were better than the choices you were making. I’ve heard through the town’s grapevine things are going all right for you. That’s good. I’m happy for you. I’m glad I was proven right.”

“I’m still working on it,” David admitted. If anyone deserved full disclosure, it was Christian Sanchez. “I still struggle with those ticks and urges I have.” Stricken at how that sounded, David scrambled to add, “But not in relation to you. Please believe that.”

Christian answered, “I do,” without hesitation.

“Thank you.” Personal victories from the past few days supported David like a strong arm wrapped around his waist, nurturing the first buds of pride he’d felt in himself in his whole life. “More and more now, a little bit every day, I really believe I’m getting better and that I won’t go down that path again.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” David nodded, warmed by the sun and the stalks of confidence slowly burgeoning in him. “I really think it is.”

“Someone said you’re working out at that animal sanctuary. You always wanted a dog.” Smiling, Christian said, “Now you have dozens of them in all sizes and breeds to play with as much as you want.”

“Yeah.” David’s time at the shelter washed over him and took firm, wonderful hold of his soul. “It’s humbling to literally clean up shit every day. But as the animals start to trust you, and they start wagging their tails and jumping up and down when they see you, that’s when it feels really good. And then when they get so excited they pee on you, you’re back to being humbled.” David’s damp shirt and jeans clung to his skin, and he made a face. “And wet and stinky.”

“I can see.” Leaning back, Christian eyeballed David and raised his brows. “That must have been quite a big dog who was happy to see you today.”

Christian’s comment hit David, and he shook his head vigorously.
Oh God, no.
“This is mostly water,” David promised, his face burning with heat. “I was giving baths earlier. It’s not dog pee.”

Shards of smoky quartz twinkled in Christian’s eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just teasing. I can smell the shampoo on you.”

“Whew.” Wiping his forehead dramatically, David slumped back against the side of the restaurant. “I was starting to wonder if that was maybe why I didn’t have to wait in line at the grocery store.”

“Well…” Christian squinted and made a so-so gesture with his hand. “I didn’t say you smelled good.”

Chuckling, David wrinkled his nose. “Right.” With his arm raised, he zeroed in on the lateness of the hour on his watch.
Shoot
. “Anyway, I have lunch.” He held up the brown bag. “I have to get back to work. But it was good to talk to you, Chris. I’m glad we finally ran into each other.” Not at all shaky anymore, David stuck out his hand. “I guess it needed to happen, if only to get it out of the way.”

Christian closed his hand around David’s in a strong, sure grip. “Yes. It was goo—”

In a flash, a giant of a man thundered up to Christian and David and chopped their hands apart. Jonah, Christian’s boyfriend—David could never forget the man’s face, or the jealousy that had once simmered in him for what he’d believed Jonah had stolen from him—grabbed David and slammed him against the side of the restaurant.

Using his hand to pin David to the wall, Jonah uttered, “You stay the fuck away from Christian, or I’ll put you right back in prison where you belong!”

“Jonah!” Christian jumped in and grabbed Jonah’s arm. “Stop.” He wrapped both hands around Jonah’s thick forearm and pulled. “Let him go.”

As if he couldn’t see Christian clawing at him or hear his command, Jonah, his stare full of deadly rage, shoved his pointer finger in David’s face. “Asshole. I knew you’d start stalking him again the minute you thought you could get away with it.”

“I’m not,” David squeaked, his windpipe constricted by Jonah’s big hand near his throat. “I swear.”

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Ben rushed into the mix and grabbed Jonah from behind. “Get your hands off him.” He wrenched Jonah off David and pushed him away. “He’s not doing anything.”

Jonah rounded on Ben and roared in his face, “What the hell did I hire you for? You’re supposed to be tracking him so stuff exactly like this doesn’t happen.” In a blink, Jonah went from looking at Ben to glaring poisonous daggers at David. “Don’t you dare move.” He whipped his cell phone out of his back pocket. “I’m getting Braden on the phone. I want him arrested and back in jail today.”

What?
Forget that Jonah had just mentioned getting the cops involved; David could only hear Jonah saying,
“You’re supposed to be tracking him…”

Oh my God
. David clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream.
Jonah hired Ben? He’s following me?

Before David could find his voice and speak—he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to talk again—Ben tore the phone out of Jonah’s hand.

“He wasn’t doing anything illegal,” Ben spit. “They. Were. Talking.” In between each word, Ben slapped the back of his hand against his palm hard. “Both of them. To each other.”

Christian swung his focus to Ben. “What—”

Speaking over Christian, Jonah snarled at Ben, “I told you he’s dangerous, and that he would worm his way back into Christian’s life. You were supposed to protect Christian from that ever happening.”

“No,” Ben replied sharply. “That is not what you hired me to do.”

Jonah cursed. “That’s a technical difference and you know it, Evans. If you were only hired to watch someone and the guy turned around and pulled a gun on someone, you’re not going to step in because that wasn’t your
job
?”

“Of course I would. Don’t be ridiculous,” Ben replied. “But that’s not what happened here. Nobody was in danger.”

“Maybe not today,” Jonah snapped back, his entire being vibrating visible anger, “but Christian will be tomorrow, because now that jackass has talked to him again. Now the psycho is going to become obsessed again, and then the stalking will start all over again. Only this time he won’t try to kill himself; he’ll try to kill Christian.” The vibrations in Jonah turned into a violent shudder, and his voice cracked. “I won’t let that happen.” He went for his phone again. “No. He’s going back to jail.”

Ben slapped Jonah’s hand down before he could push a button. “You’re not seeing things clearly here, man.”

“No, I’m the only one with my eyes open and taking measures to secure Christian’s safety and life.” Jonah looked Ben over, and new, hard lines pulled his mouth into a frown. “Braden’s going to get an earful about how wrong he was to recommend you.”

Before Jonah could attempt the call a second time, Christian stepped in front of him and took the phone away. “Jonah.” When Jonah didn’t take his death stare from Ben, Christian said again, “Jonah.” He touched Jonah’s hand. “Look at me.”

Jonah snapped, “What?” but still glared.

Christian, standing right in the face of the wall of fire, took Jonah’s head in his hands and forced the bigger man to look down at him. “I’m okay,” he told Jonah very calmly. “I’m fine.” He then reached down and twined his fingers in Jonah’s. “But now it’s time to go.”

Jonah spoke through clenched teeth. “If you think I’m going to apologize for protecting you…” His voice broke again, and he shook his head. “Just no. I won’t.”

Christian remained steady and continued to hold Jonah’s hand. “I don’t expect you to, and I’m not angry with you. It’s okay.” He started to pull Jonah away. “But we do need to talk and get a few things clear once and for all.”

Jonah tugged back against Christian’s hold. “Christian.”

Christian let go of Jonah’s hand but maintained full eye contact with him as he walked back toward the restaurant entrance. “I’m going to tell Abby we won’t be joining her for lunch after all.” With his hand on the door, he simply said, “Then I’ll follow you home. I know you’ll be there,” and went inside.

With a softly uttered curse, Jonah jabbed a finger in David’s direction and promised, “This isn’t over.” Then he walked away.

“It’s very over, Roberts,” Ben shouted at the big man striding to his truck. “Leave David alone!”

David stood in place, stunned. Invisible bruises from the pummeling his body and heart had just taken littered his flesh with multiple layers of unbearable bone-deep pain. One glance at Ben and the terrible hurt in David’s middle intensified, nearly crushing him under the weight. Self-preservation flooded David, preying on all his most basic, ingrained survival instincts. Unable to look at Ben, with lunch in hand, David started to run.