Risk Is a Four-Letter Word (15 page)

Eric was still smiling. "He's the original
tough guy, you know? He's a veteran, worked as an electrician his whole life.
He was the last person I thought would understand, but he's always been good
about letting me make my own decisions."

"Your dad was always easygoing,
Eric," Zeke offered.

Eric was silent for a minute then shrugged.
"Yeah.
You're right, I guess. My mom was the one who
ruled the roost and my dad usually went along with her, but he always stuck up
for us when she freaked out over the crazy stuff we did."

"Yeah, like the time we tied all those
firecrackers together to see what would happen. Or the time we snuck out to the
city when we were supposed to be helping him build that deck." Zeke
laughed at Carrie's expression. "Oh, we got in trouble when we were teens,
no doubt about it."

"Remember how she lost it when I got my
nipples pierced?" Eric laughed.

"Yeah.
She even freaked out over my tattoo." Zeke turned his wrist
over, driving with his left hand. Carrie traced a finger over the hummingbird.

"Why a
hummingbird?"

Eric sounded like he was choking and Carrie
swung her head around to look at him. He was stifling laughter.
"What?"

"Just tell her Eric," Zeke sighed.

"It was a dare. He lost a bet with me and
that was the
girliest
tattoo I could come up with
when I was young, drunk, and stupid. Little did I know that the ladies were going
to love it so
much.
Zeke got more dates from flashing
that stupid tattoo over the years than you'd ever believe."

"What was the bet?" Carrie asked.

Zeke snorted. "I bet him he wouldn't kiss
a guy at one of our college fundraising things. Some fraternity had set up a
kissing booth and was selling kisses for charity."

Carrie giggled. "But, you both like guys.
I don't understand how that could backfire?"

Zeke grinned. "Well, remember that neither
of us knew the other was bi until recently? So, Eric gets up there and before
anyone knows what's going to happen, he plants a big smack on the dude in the
booth. Dude loses it and punches Eric in the nose." He shook his head.
"All hell broke out. Knowing Eric, I really should have known better. He'd
kiss anything, dead or alive."

"Hey!" Eric protested.

Carrie smiled, thinking back to her high school
years. "I didn't do anything like that. I studied and took myself off to
college where I studied some more. Most of my dates were disasters."

"I promise
,
this
one won't be a disaster." Eric patted her leg again.

****

Next time
I'm going to keep my fucking mouth shut
, Eric
thought, staring at Zeke's long-estranged father looming over them at the
dinner table. 'This one won't be a disaster' my ass. What the fuck? Why does
the asshole show up tonight of all nights?

"Dad, please, I'm trying to have a nice
dinner here," Zeke
said,
voice tight.

Eric sensed Carrie's worry.

"I thought they were fucking kidding me
when they told me they'd seen your truck at the park, but no. John and Stan
were serious! You were fucking around with your fag friend in public!"
Zeke's dad spit the words at him.

Eric clenched his fist around his napkin,
trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation. His growing anger wasn't
helping. Zeke's dad had walked out on his family fifteen years ago. Zeke had
only seen him sporadically since them, and the visits usually didn't go well.
Eric snorted quietly to himself. What an understatement. Zeke hated his dad
with a seething malice for what the man had done to his mother and little
sister. He'd even changed his last name to his mother's maiden name:
Griffin
.

Eric despised the man too, had disliked him since
the day they'd met, even though he was just a kid in middle school at the time.
Zeke's father was a mean, bigoted asshole. He didn't get custody of Zeke or
Sherry in the divorce because he had a history of drinking.
And
skipping town without notice.
He also liked to punch the closest family
member when he was on one of his binges. Eric hated him, especially after the
time Zeke showed up at school with a shiner on his face.

"Zeke, what the
fuck are
you doing? I didn't raise
no
faggot!" Ted
Williams said loudly. Eric could tell he'd been drinking. His eyes were glassy.

"You didn't raise me at all!" Zeke
replied, finally raising his voice.

Uh oh.
He's getting angry
, Eric thought,
throwing his napkin on the table. He had to intervene before Zeke did something
rash, like hit the man in the middle of a nice restaurant. Already the other
guests were starting to realize something was happening.

"Mr. Williams, we'd appreciate it if you'd
leave. We don't want any trouble," Eric said.

"I'm not leaving until Zeke tells me what
the fuck he thought he was doing!"

Eric glanced at Carrie and saw her nod
imperceptibly. He knew what she was thinking. "Mr. Williams, let me
introduce Carrie
Haake
, Zeke's
girlfriend
."

Carrie smiled tightly. "Hello."

Eric had to admit she was good at the fake
courtesy thing. Zeke shot them a disbelieving glance and Eric shook his head,
warning Zeke to go along with it. If convincing Zeke's asshole father that
Carrie was Zeke's girlfriend convinced the man to go away, he'd take that
chance and run with it.

"Oh, please, you're not fooling anyone
with that story." Zeke's dad leaned closer, ignoring Carrie. "The two
of you have been living together for years." He shoved his finger in Eric's
face.

"You know what? This is stupid," Zeke
declared. He pushed away from the table and stood up.

Crap
, Eric thought. His eyes met Carrie's alarmed gaze.
Now what?
He watched her carefully slide
her wineglass away from Zeke and his dad.

"You've probably been fucking each other
since high school," Zeke's dad sneered. He wasn't backing down.

Eric carefully stood up, using his body to
shield Carrie from the crazy fucker.

"Dad, okay, you're right. Eric and I are
lovers. Carrie is our girlfriend. I don't really give a damn what you think.
You need to leave.
Now."
Zeke moved closer to
Eric. A stab of lust rushed through Eric when he saw the determined look on
Zeke's. Zeke was sexy as hell when he was angry.
Even so, now is not the time
, Eric told his libido. It didn't
listen. His cock twitched.
Dammit
.

Zeke's dad looked like his head was about to
explode.
"You, you ungrateful fucking fag.
This
is the thanks I get for feeding you and putting clothes on your back--"

"Oh, for God's sake.
Mom was the one who raised me and fed us all. Get over
yourself
," Zeke retorted.

Shit
, Eric thought.
That did it.

Zeke's dad's face turned bright red. He swung
an arm, probably intending to catch Zeke in the head.
Fat chance
, Eric thought spitefully. Zeke easily caught his
father's fist in his hand, twisting the older man's wrist until his elbow stuck
out painfully.

"You had your chance, Dad, and you blew
it."

"Fuck you! I hope you rot in hell!"
Zeke's dad shouted, wrenching his arm away. He kicked at a chair. It flew over,
knocking into Carrie's leg. She cried out, more surprised than hurt, Eric saw,
but Zeke lost it. He grabbed his father by the arm and wrenched it up behind
his back. The older man moaned, struggling, but Zeke was younger, stronger, and
pissed off.

"Time to go," Zeke said, marching his
father to the door. The manager of the restaurant had just shown up and Eric
knew by the look on his face they weren't going to get to finish their meal.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to
leave," the manager said.

Carrie frowned, looking from the manager to
Zeke walking out the door. "It wasn't our fault."

"Nevertheless, this establishment is known
for its quiet and discreet service. We can't afford to let altercations upset
our guests." The manager looked like he'd swallowed a bone as he gestured
at Eric and Carrie. "Please. I'll be happy to refund your meal."

"We didn't even eat our meal yet," Carrie
exclaimed. "We certainly didn't pay yet."

"Nevertheless."
The manager didn't budge.

Eric debated the merits of protesting until he
heard shouting from outside. He and Carrie took one look at each other then
Eric grabbed their jackets and headed for the exit with Carrie right behind
him. Screw the so-called refund. The manager could kiss his ass if he wanted
them to pay. "That sounds like Zeke."

"Yeah," Carrie said, shoving her arms
into her coat. "What the hell? Zeke's father is horrible."

Eric nodded as he ran for the door.
"Zeke's dad has always been a giant dick," he told her.
Damn this place
. He couldn't see outside
because the restaurant had no windows. It was built into the basement of an old
house and they had to run up a half a flight of stairs to get out.

"That sucks," Carrie said.

He shrugged. It was true.
Finally
, he thought as they reached the top. He wrenched open the
door and froze. "Shit!"

A large man had Zeke's arms pinned back while
his father punched him in the gut. A third stood close by, a tire iron ready in
his hands. Rage washed over Eric and he rushed forward, kicking Zeke's dad in
the knee. The man went down, howling, but Zeke was still struggling with the
man holding his arms. The fucker was huge. And where was the third guy? Eric
spun around just in time to see the tire iron come up over his head.
Carrie!
He thought, desperate to protect
her. He lunged and everything went black.

****

"So, is this going to be a habit? Hanging
out in hospitals?" Carrie asked as soon as Eric opened his eyes. His head
hurt.
A lot.

"What happened?" Eric asked.
Or rather, tried to ask.
His head felt like it had been on
the losing end of a fight with a tire iron.
Oh.
Wait
. He winced as a particularly loud beep penetrated his aching skull.
The cuff on his arm tightened for a moment,
then
relaxed.

"Well, you saved Zeke," Carrie said.

Eric forced open his eyes. The light hurt. He
was lying on a hospital bed with a saline drip in his forearm and a blood
pressure cuff on his bicep. "Shit."

"Yup.
Except for the part where Zeke is really grateful to you saving his
life, this whole experience has been shit.
For both of you.
He's next door getting his face sewn back together." Carrie shifted in her
chair and stood, then leaned down and kissed his cheek gently.
Fuck. Even
that
hurt
.

"I have to tell them you're awake."
She smiled and walked out of the room.

He heard Zeke cursing through the curtain on his
right.

"Zeke?
You okay over there?" Eric yelled then winced. The sound of
his own voice made his head feel like it was going to split open. He thought he
might throw up, too, just to round out the overall experience of
shittiness
.

"Eric? You're awake? Hey, careful! I'm
going to need that lip, you crazy doctor."

Eric grinned to himself. Zeke was going to be
okay. "We're in the hospital.
Again."

"No shit, Sherlock. My fucking asshole
father shows up out of nowhere,
whattya
know.
So much for restraining orders.
I'm just happy he didn't
hurt Carrie," Zeke called back. His words sounded a little muffled.

"What happened?" Eric wanted to know
what happened after he got clocked. The curtain between the trauma bays flew
back. Eric looked at Zeke. He sat on his bed, shirt off. He had some pretty
massive bruising on his ribs and a shallow cut on his face that went from
mid-cheek down to his lip on the left. It didn't look too bad, thankfully.

"If you're going to have a conversation,
might as well do it face to face," a youngish doctor said as he dropped a
pair of forceps on a tray and let go of the curtain. He looked at Zeke,
touching fingers to his chin and holding his face to the light.
"Looks good.
You should heal up no problem.
Might have some scarring though."

Zeke shrugged. "I've had worse."

The doctor's professionally cheerful face
darkened. "Yeah, well. Let's try not to be a repeat customer here."
He strode out of the room just as Carrie came back with another doctor in tow,
an older woman.

"What's his problem?" Eric asked her.

The new doctor grimaced. "Somebody put
grape juice in his
Wheaties
this morning."