Heated Beat 02 - Lucky Man (6 page)

“You might change your mind when it gets here.”

Finn grunted. Left to his own devices, he’d probably stare at a blank TV until the blast of drugs wore off.

Will came back with his laptop, and despite a tranquilizer-induced haze of apathy, Finn leaned forward and took a look at Will’s work-in-progress designs for the Lamps’ website.

“Nice.” Finn wasn’t much for branding, but he had to admit Will had a touch that obscured the corporate commercialism Finn hated so much. And he didn’t take himself too seriously… the bastard. Finn pointed at the screen. “You made my graphic a bloody koala?”

Will laughed and dodged Finn’s halfhearted punch. “Don’t blame me. When you guys said you didn’t want to use photos of yourselves, I was going to use manga characters. It was you who suggested animals.”

Finn tried to scowl. It didn’t work. His face felt numb. “You could’ve made me a wolf or something. How come Jack gets to be a gorilla?”

“He’s not a gorilla, he’s a chimp, and trust me, it bloody suits him.” Will beckoned Finn closer to the screen. “Here, look… we can make you cool. What kind of guitar do you want? Acoustic or electric?”

Finn watched Will work his magic, adding a guitar, a harmonica, and a weird fedora-style hat human Finn wouldn’t be caught dead in. “Still think you’re taking the bloody piss. Fucking koala.”

Will pressed a few more buttons, then closed his laptop. “If you really hate it, I can change it, but you should totally blame Jack. I asked him to describe you in two words, and he said shy and cuddly.”

“How the hell would he know I’m cuddly? I’ve never cuddled that bloke in my life.”

“Not denying it, though, are you? And you’re lying. I’ve seen the photos from Download last year.” Will reached for his phone, no doubt to text Jack and tell him his joke had gone down like a lead balloon.

Finn lay back on the couch. The brief interaction with Will had exhausted him, and he got the feeling Will had been tasked with keeping him awake until he’d eaten his supper, a theory proved when Will nudged him out of a fast-approaching doze.

“Jack said you’ve been seeing someone. Who is it? Anyone I know?”

That woke Finn up. Since his ill-fated conversation with Danny, he’d stopped talking to Jack about him. He couldn’t face admitting his condition had sent yet another bloke running in the opposite direction, and there was little he could say about Danny without betraying his trust. Danny hadn’t outright asked Finn not to tell anyone he was a copper, but he didn’t have to. Finn
knew
. “I don’t think I’m seeing him anymore. I told him I was a nutjob.”

Will winced and his grin faded. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, and he hasn’t called since.”

“That’s a shitter. You need someone to keep you company in this big old house when Jack’s away.”

“Thought you were my new babysitter?”

“Don’t be a bellend—”

The doorbell rang. Will started to get up, but Finn stilled him. “I’ll go, and I’m paying. You’ve done enough for me today.”

Finn heaved himself from the sofa and shuffled to the front door, counting cash carefully out of his wallet, his brain like mud. He opened the door with his gaze down, focused.

A warm, familiar hand on his arm felt like a bloody Taser.

Chapter Six

F
INN
BLINKED
slowly. “It’s you.”

“The very same.” Danny chanced a grin. “Your phone was off and I was in the area, so I figured….”

“Right.”

Danny opened his mouth. Shut it again. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up on Finn’s doorstep, and Finn’s nonplussed frown wasn’t helping. “Are you all right?”

“What?” Finn looked blankly between Danny and his open wallet. “Yeah. Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Finn?” A new voice came from somewhere in the house.

Finn turned and Danny saw another blond bloke behind him, a bloke who wasn’t Finn’s housemate. Danny’s heart sank. Was he too late already?

The blond guy came up beside Finn and took his wallet. For the first time, Danny noticed yet another bloke was behind
him
holding a flimsy white takeaway bag. Shit. How long had he been there?

Finn seemed taken aback too. “Uh, this is Will, Jack’s boyfriend.”

That made sense, though the way Finn was looking through him felt a little odd—so odd Danny wasn’t convinced Finn was even talking to him.

Who else would he be talking to?

Danny killed the thought before it manifested in his brain. Over the past week he’d convinced himself Finn’s illness didn’t worry him. Stopped himself from rehashing their short time together, searching for clues there was something fundamentally wrong with Finn.

Wrong. Danny scratched that word out too. It didn’t fit Finn. None of it did—not the disquiet Danny had felt when he’d first heard the word schizophrenia, nor the hours and hours of Internet research he’d done since. Hypnotic voice and enchanting smile aside, Finn just seemed so… normal.

Will sidestepped Danny and paid the deliveryman. He nudged Finn. “Are you inviting your mate in or what?”

“This is Danny,” Finn said to no one in particular, and then he seemed to refocus. He stared hard at Danny’s hand, which was still on his arm, then took it and tugged. “Come in.”

Will shut the door behind them. He cast a keen gaze over Finn, then pulled a couple of containers from the takeaway bag and handed the bag to Finn. “Take this in the living room, mate.”

Finn disappeared without a backward glance. Danny thought about following him, but a hard look from Will stayed him. He was a scrawny fella, but Danny could tell he had something to say.

“Are you the bloke Finn’s been seeing?”

Danny shrugged. “Unless he’s been seeing anyone else.”

“Finn’s not like that.” Will shifted his takeaway containers to his other hand. “And you know, right? It was you he told?”

Ah. Danny finally caught on. “Yeah. He told me last week. Is he okay? He seems a little….”

“He had his depot injection today, so he’s a bit spaced.” Will put one foot on the stairs. “I’m going upstairs, but make sure he eats something, okay? Oh, and if you leave, come and get me.”

Depot injection. Danny had read about those, holed up in his car in the red-light district, but Lexi had turned up on her corner before he’d gleaned much knowledge, and Will disappeared before he could pick his brain.

Danny drifted to the living room and found Finn staring at the TV. “
Dad’s Army
?”

“Better than bloody
Red Dwarf
.” Finn stared at Danny with his strangely dead eyes. “I know I’m pleased to see you, but I’m not feeling it.”

“I can go if you want?”

Finn shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Sit down, please?”

Danny shed his coat, draped it over the arm of the couch, and sat bedside Finn, close enough to feel his body heat. “How often do you have these injections?”

If Finn was surprised Danny knew the source of his odd behavior, he didn’t show it. “Every month. They keep me sane, but the jabs knock me out for a little while.”

“I was worried when you turned your phone off.” Worried was an understatement. It had taken him a few days to find the balls to pick up the phone, and the dead line had scared the shit out of him.

Finn retrieved his phone from the coffee table. He pressed the screen. Nothing happened. “Shit. It must’ve died on me. When did you call?”

“This morning.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Hmm?”

“When you called.”

Danny considered that. There was no denying Finn’s condition had shocked him… thrown him, but despite Finn’s flat apathy now, Danny wasn’t ready to give up on them. “I was going to ask you out.”

“Yeah? Where were we gonna go?”

“Assuming you said yes, I was gonna take you to Batman’s house.”

Finn’s expression turned wistful. “Wollaton Hall? Then I definitely would’ve said yes. I love that place.”

“That the only reason?”

“That I’d say yes? No… I don’t think so.”

That was good enough for now. Danny’s gaze fell on the abandoned bag of food, and he remembered Will’s instructions. “What have you got in there?”

Finn thought a moment. “Chinese, maybe? Where did Will go? He knows.”

“Upstairs.” Danny snagged the bag. “Do you want me to get him?”

Finn scowled. “He got to you, didn’t he? Told you how
fragile
I am.”

“No, he just said you need to eat your dinner.”

Finn’s irritation almost made Danny snigger, but he caught it in time. He pulled containers out of the bag and set them on the coffee table. “Chow mein and… hang on, something pink. Sweet and sour, maybe?”

A flicker of amusement brightened Finn’s face. Encouraged, Danny got up and went to the kitchen for cutlery, paper towels, and a bottle of water. As he shut the fridge, he saw his number still stuck to the door. The sight of it made him smile, though he still wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to leave it there.

Finn was upright when Danny got back, though he’d made no move to open the containers of food.

Danny filled a plate, sat close to Finn, and handed him a fork. “Eat. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Finn turned his attention to picking at his food without elaborating. Danny did the same and watched Finn in his peripheral vision, slightly perturbed. He’d grown used to the way Finn usually inhaled his food.

When they were done eating, Danny cleared up. He came back to a sleepy-looking Finn and wondered if he should go, but somehow even with his eyes half closed, Finn sensed his indecision.

“Don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

Danny leaned on the doorframe. “It can wait until you’re feeling better.”

Finn lifted his head from the back of the sofa. “I don’t feel bad, Danny. I don’t feel anything.”

Danny didn’t get it. He tried to imagine life without the roiling buzz that came from a cracked case or the simmering heat that came from simply being near Finn. Couldn’t do it. “Do you
want
to talk about it?”

“It’s not going anywhere,” Finn said. “Might as well get it all out in the open, so you can figure out what you want.”

“What I want? What about you?”

Finn shrugged. “Nothing changes for me. It is what it is. But you… you’ve had a week to think on it and here you are, so I’m guessing you have some questions?”

It is what it is.

Finn had used that phrase before, and it made Danny’s chest ache, though he couldn’t say why. He reclaimed his place on the couch. Truth be told he did have questions, bloody loads of them, but he’d pushed Finn too far before—hurt him—and he couldn’t bear to do that again. “I don’t want to dig out your soul, mate. You know what this means better than I do. What do I need to know?”

“Now there’s a question.” Finn blew out a breath. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s a symptom and what’s just me.”

He stopped. Danny nudged him. “Like what?”

“Like my inability to organize my time and the fixation on music. Sometimes I watch Jack spend all weekend obsessing over a bass line and figure it comes with the territory, but then he goes away or something else happens, and I’m back to thinking I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak.”

Finn laughed, dark and flat, not like Finn at all. “Yeah, right,” Finn said. “You want to know if I hear voices, don’t you? If I talk to myself and see things that aren’t there?”

Danny held his tongue, but Finn either knew him too well already or he’d had this conversation more times than he cared to remember.

“Not often, is the answer.” Finn sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table. “The injections work for me, and even when I think I am slipping, it’s usually me overthinking something.”

“Overthinking?”

“Yeah. I imagine my imagination. Lucky me, eh?”

Danny tried to make sense of that sentence. Nope. Not happening. “You’ve lost me.”

Finn shrugged. “The everyday bollocks bothers me more than the episodes. They’re pretty sporadic these days. I spend more time worrying about relapsing than actually doing it.”

“When was your last, er, episode?”

Finn shot Danny a hard look. “I haven’t had a serious one in years, but I can be a bit slow. If something isn’t instinctive for me, it takes me a while to figure it out. I get agitated sometimes too, if I’m stressed or tired or working too much, which is fucking annoying.”

“How so?”

“My music is my life, you know? It calms me, distracts me. It’s my safe place. I lose my shit when it goes wrong. That’s when you’ll find me hiding in the cellar.”

Danny leaned back and mirrored Finn’s pose. Finn shifted a little closer. Another inch and they’d be touching, but they weren’t done yet. “What happens when you’re ill? Who looks after you?”

“Depends how bad it is…. Jack, Bigsy from the band. He’s a good mate. Sometimes I go home to my mum, but she gets upset if it goes on too long. I have a self-care plan and advance statements in case things get bad. If you’re still around in a few months, I’ll show them to you.”

“So you want me to stick around, then?”

“If you want.”

It wasn’t a question, or perhaps it was. Danny’s mind raced so much he couldn’t tell. In any case, Finn’s bone-weary yawn told Danny he’d had enough questions for one day. Finn tipped his head back, eyes closed, breathing deep and even. Danny watched him fall asleep and pondered how strange it was that Finn looked more alive in that moment than he had all night.

“D
IRTY
PIG
cunt. Ain’t you got nothing better to do?”

Danny rolled his eyes and shut the car door on his mouthy suspect. The bloke was wanted in connection with supplying GHB to schoolboys. Danny had been on his tail for months, and his persistence had paid off. Endless nights loitering outside youth clubs and crappy pubs known for serving underage teens had finally come to fruition. Shame it came with three hours of paperwork.

The panda car drove off into the night. Danny drifted back to his unmarked car, flipping idly through the notes he’d need when he got back to the station to interview the suspect. He was looking forward to it. The bloke’s crime was pretty fucking sinister, but in truth he was doing a village out of a good idiot. Only luck had kept him on the street so long.