The Brick Yard (21 page)

It had been a bitterly cold Chicago winter day and most schools in the city had been closed because of it. Lucky had entered the gym, wearing the thinnest, rattiest jacket Dray had ever seen. He’d walked straight up to one of the gym members and had asked to see the manager. Brick had spotted Lucky from his office window and had already been on his way across the gym. Lucky had squared his malnourished shoulders and had asked Brick if he could hang out in the gym and watch the fighters train.

One look at the near-frozen boy and Brick had struck a deal. Lucky could hang out at the gym anytime he wanted, but he’d need to do some chores around the place, for which he’d be paid in cash. Dray had known from experience that it hadn’t been cheap labor Brick had been after. Christ. Dray wondered, not for the first time, just how many lives Brick had saved over the years.

Dray’s phone rang, and he immediately tensed. He pulled the cell out of his pocket and swiped his finger over the screen. “Hey.”

“You need to get over here,” Flint said.

“Is he gone?” Dray asked the question he feared most. Although he’d prepared himself for the news, it still hurt.

“Yeah, and so is Lucky. From the amount of blood on Brick’s bed, I’d say he started vomiting again, died, and Lucky freaked out.”

Confused, Dray shook his head. “Are you telling me Lucky took Brick somewhere?”

“No, I’m telling you Brick’s still in his bed, but he was alone when I got here. I’m assuming Lucky left after Brick died, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Yes you do. Lucky wouldn’t have left Brick’s side otherwise.” An eerie calm passed over Dray at the news of Brick’s death. He’d been prepared for it, and although he knew the realization would hit him eventually, for the moment his thoughts were on Lucky.

“Maybe Lucky’s on his way there. Could be something he didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” Flint offered.

“Yeah, maybe.” Dray stared at the envelope in his hand. “Call Mac and then call either Sylvia or Janice. I’ll tell Jax and wait around for a few minutes to see if Lucky shows up.” His gaze landed on the will. He’d have to call Brick’s attorney as well, but there was no rush. Brick had already taken care of his funeral arrangements.

“Okay,” Flint agreed.

Dray hung up and tried Lucky’s cell, but as predicted, the call went to voicemail. “Hey, babe. I need you to call me.”

Before he could stop himself, he upended the metal trashcan that had to be an antique and dumped everything on the floor. After setting it in the middle of the room, he dropped the photos inside. It only took a moment to locate an old book of matches in Brick’s drawer and within seconds, the photographic evidence of Lucky’s past started to burn. It took poking around to separate the pictures and several more matches, but eventually, the photos were reduced to a pile of ash.

“Is something burning?” Jax asked, throwing the door open. His gaze landed on the trashcan in the center of the room. “What’s that?”

Dray shook his head. “The past.”

* * * *

Dray rinsed the bloody washcloth in a bowl of warm water before starting on Brick’s hands. He’d held off calling the funeral home because Jax had asked to say a final goodbye, and there was no way in hell he’d let the kid into Brick’s room the way it had been. He’d immediately stripped the sheets and Brick’s clothes before giving the old man a sponge bath.

It had been over an hour since he’d left the message on Lucky’s phone, and so far, no word. “He loved you so much,” he told Brick. “But I’m worried about him.”

Dray had been torn between seeing to Brick and looking for Lucky, but he knew it wouldn’t have been fair to ask anyone else to take care of Brick. He owed it to Brick to take charge of the situation, and see that it was handled properly. After the funeral home had picked up the body, he could try to find Lucky.

Once Brick was cleaned, Dray found an old Brick Yard T-shirt. He borrowed a page from an old cable show he used to watch about a funeral home and split the shirt up the back in order to put it on Brick. Pulling a pair of sweat pants onto Brick was the hardest part, and he was exhausted by the time he finished the task. He used a clean sheet to cover Brick from feet to chest and arranged his hands at his sides.

Dray stared down at the man who had meant so much to so many. “You look good,” he whispered, his throat tight with emotion. He hadn’t allowed himself a chance to cry because he had a feeling if he started, he wouldn’t stop, and with Lucky still missing, he had other things he needed to take care of. He brushed the white wisps of Brick’s hair across his balding head before leaning down to place one last kiss on Brick’s forehead. “I love you.”

* * * *

Dray stopped into Jerry’s Place to see if Lucky was drowning his pain, but the only one he recognized was Sid, sitting on a stool at the bar. He walked over and leaned against the scarred wood surface. “You seen Lucky?”

Sid shook his head, his pupils’ dilated. “Haven’t seen him.”

As much as Dray hated to talk to the stoned asshole, he needed answers. “Where’s he usually go if he’s upset?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? You’ve been his best friend since he was a goddamn kid.” Dray took a deep breath. Pissing Sid off wouldn’t get him what he needed. “I’m gonna guess it’ll be the same place he went when he was young.”

Sid shrugged and took a drink of his beer. “He used to hang out on the roof of his building, but they don’t live there anymore, man.”

It wasn’t much, but it was the only lead Dray had. “Address?”

Sid scratched his greasy hair. “I don’t remember the address, but it’s that apartment building across the street from that salvage place that takes the junk metal.”

“Keens?” Dray asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. So, why’re you looking for him?” Sid asked.

“Brick died, and Lucky took off. I’m worried about him,” Dray replied.

Sid snorted. “Don’t worry about him. Lucky always manages to take care of himself.” He stared down at his empty glass. “He doesn’t need anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Dray couldn’t stand the little weasel, but he knew Lucky loved the guy like a brother or at least he had at one time. “Do me a favor. If you ever decide to pull yourself together and get clean, come by The Brick Yard, and I’ll see what I can do to help you out.”

Sid curled his lip. “I don’t need you.”

“No, you don’t, but I think you need Lucky—and I also think he needs you.” Dray slapped his hand against the bar. “If you happen to see Lucky, tell him to call me.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Dray left the bar and jumped into his truck. He drove the ten blocks to Keens Salvage and parked in front of the rundown building across the street. Staring up, he wondered why the city hadn’t had the building condemned years ago.

“Please don’t be here,” Dray mumbled as he made his way into the building. The dark stairwell smelled of urine and other things he didn’t want to think about. The building was only four floors, so it didn’t take long to reach the ladder that led to the roof. He shoved open the hatch and studied the roof for several moments, trying to determine how stable the damn thing was.

A noise off to the left caught his attention. He stepped up the last few rungs and climbed onto the roof. He heard the sound again and walked toward it. “Lucky?”

He didn’t see Lucky immediately, but he eventually caught sight of a sneaker peeking out from behind one of the heating vents. Glad that he’d finally found Lucky, he walked over, bracing himself for what he might find.

Lucky was curled into a ball, his face buried against his knees. Dray’s gaze went to the dried blood on Lucky’s hands and arms.
Shit!
Without a word, he sat down. Lucky hadn’t bothered to lift his head, so Dray simply put his arm around him and waited. He knew there were no words that could make Lucky forget what he’d so obviously witnessed.

Dray leaned his head against Lucky’s shoulder and for the first time since Flint’s call earlier that day, he cried. What started as a trickle of tears soon became a torrent, soaking his face and Lucky’s T-shirt.

When Lucky finally moved, it wasn’t to wrap his arms around Dray. Instead, as if in slow motion, he threw himself forward, bashing his face against the roof.

“What the fuck, Lucky?” Dray scrambled to get to the man he loved before Lucky could do it again. “Stop.” He wrapped his arms around Lucky’s chest and tried to hold him still, but Lucky started to fight his way out of Dray’s grasp, continually slamming his forehead against the roof.

Lucky’s elbow connected with Dray’s eye, knocking him back. Shaken, Dray touched his fingertips to his brow bone, knowing the skin had split but trying to determine how bad the cut was.

“See? I told you. I’m bad!” Lucky yelled, turning to face Dray for the first time.

Blood streamed down Lucky’s face from a four-inch cut to his forehead. The fresh blood, combined with the dried blood covering Lucky’s hands and T-shirt stole Dray’s breath from his lungs. He pressed one hand to his chest and the other to his eye. He needed to get Lucky to the hospital, but he knew Lucky would never admit he needed help. Lying sucked, but it had to be done. “I think I need to go to the emergency room. I think you broke something.”

Lucky wiped the blood away from his eyes and knelt beside Dray with an anguished expression. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Dray whispered. He shrugged out of his coat before pulling his shirt over his head. Five stories up, the cold wind stung his skin, but he was starting to really worry about the wound on Lucky’s forehead. “Press this against your cut,” he instructed.

“I’m fine.”

“The hell you are!” Dray wiped his own blood from his face. “I need you to help me, but you’re not going to be able to do shit for me if you pass out before you get me to the ER.” It was a weak excuse, but Lucky was so out of it, Dray prayed he wouldn’t realize it. He slowly lifted his hands and gently pressed the T-shirt against Lucky’s forehead. Stretching it out, he tied the material behind Lucky’s head. “There, now you look like a ninja warrior.”

Lucky continued to stare at Dray. “I—I…”

“What, babe?” Dray cupped Lucky’s face and kissed him before pulling back. “Talk to me.”

Lucky’s gaze zeroed in on the cut above Dray’s eye. “Nothing. Let’s get you to a doctor.”

* * * *

With Dray right behind him, Lucky unlocked his apartment, but before he pushed the door open, he stared at the ceiling, to the spot in front of Brick’s place. Once again, the guilt overwhelmed him. “I can’t do this. I can’t be here.”

Strong arms wrapped around Lucky’s waist. “Wait right here. Just give me five minutes to grab us a change of clothes and we’ll go to a hotel for the night.”

Lucky nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed, glancing toward Brick’s apartment again. “I need to go up.”

“Wait for me, and I’ll go with you.”

“I need to do it by myself.” Lucky lifted a hand and ran his fingers over the bandage. He should’ve known he couldn’t take Dray to the ER without being pulled in himself. He’d received three times the number of stitches Dray had and would probably be paying the hospital for the next two years.

“Okay. I’ll come up after I pack a few things.”

Lucky tried to give Dray a smile, but he knew it came out looking more like a grimace. He didn’t wait for Dray to go inside the apartment before he headed back to the stairs. By the time he reached Brick’s apartment, the guilt had swallowed him whole.

It took several moments of fumbling before he managed to unlock Brick’s door. Stepping inside the quiet apartment, he shoved the keys back into his pocket as he walked toward the crime scene. Brick had given Lucky a second chance at life, so when Brick had asked Lucky for a favor, how the hell could Lucky turn him down? Brick had never asked for anything in exchange for the safety of the storage room, the training, the job and the friendship.

The door to Brick’s room was already open, so all Lucky had to do was step inside. He was surprised to find the bed neatly made with fresh sheets and blankets. There was no sign of the blood that had erupted from Brick’s mouth, prompting Lucky to give in and inject the older man with enough morphine to kill him.

A whoosh of air escaped him as he slid to the floor. He’d killed Brick. It was a secret he’d have to keep for the rest of his life, one that would no doubt destroy him in the end.

A throat cleared behind Lucky moments before he felt Dray’s warmth wrap around him. Dray rested his chin on Lucky’s shoulder. “Brick asked you, didn’t he?”

“Huh?” Lucky’s heartbeat sped up at the question.

“He asked you to help him die. I didn’t think of it earlier because I was so focused on finding you, but walking in here, seeing you sitting here, I knew.” Dray pressed his lips against Lucky’s neck. “He asked me, but I wasn’t strong enough. I made him promise not to ask that of you. Goddammit! I hate that I’m suddenly so fucking angry with him, and he’s not even here to yell at.”

“I told him I couldn’t do it, but the longer I sat in here and watched him fight for each breath, I figured when the time came, I’d give him what he’d asked for. I didn’t tell him I would because I wasn’t positive I could go through with it, and I didn’t want him to see it coming. I loaded the syringe this morning.” Lucky didn’t bother wiping the tears as they fell. “When he started to vomit again, I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer.” He grabbed Dray’s hands and pulled them tighter around him. “He went pretty fast after that, and he gave me what I like to believe was a smile before he died.”

“Oh, baby.” Dray continued to place soft kisses on Lucky’s neck. “I’m sorry this is causing you so much pain, but I need you to know that I think you did the right thing. Thank you for being stronger than I am. Thank you for helping the man we both loved go a little easier.”

Lucky sat there for a long time, happy to be in Dray’s arms. “When I was eight, one of my mom’s boyfriends was beating her. I tried to help, but he knocked me back. I was so afraid he’d kill her. So I went into the kitchen and got a knife, intent on getting him away from her anyway I could.” He took a deep breath. He’d never told the story to anyone. “My mom warned him and he turned and knocked me to the ground, broke my nose, blacked my eye, but that wasn’t enough for them.”