Troubleshooters 16.8 - Free Fall (2 page)

 But Wade had carefully kept his distance from Ben—probably because Ben’s latest growth spurt had taken him into six-three territory. Yeah, he was still too skinny, but living with Danny and Izzy had inspired him to work out, and under their guidance, his hard work was starting to show. And, of course, Wade had probably made note of the whole dropped-off-at-school-by-SEALs thing.

 Bullies targeted kids who were unlikely to fight back.

 But it hadn’t been that long ago that Ben had been in Ryan’s shoes. And it had sucked. Especially when the other kids pretended not to notice the ongoing abuse. They were fearful—for good reason—of becoming the bully’s next target.

 But Wade didn’t scare Ben.

 And enough was enough.

 “Hey, Wade,” Ben had said, heavy on the faux-friendly as he’d approached all four boys. “Either ask Ryan to the prom, already, or
back
the fuck
off
.”

 As the words were leaving his lips, he could imagine his sister’s heavy sigh.
Drama-free
meant
not
taunting the homophobe with implications that
he
was also gay. Yeah, Ben got that. Although truth be told, Wade pinged Ben’s gaydar far more even than adorbs little Ryan did.

 Of course, Wade now immediately got defensive, and Ben just tuned out the football player’s fugly
faggot-
filled word-vomit, instead rolling his eyes and laughing as he looked at Ryan and his two equally wide-eyed little friends.

 It
may
have been the laughing that pushed Wade over the edge.

 Or maybe it was Ben moving in closer, because he knew that would make Wade take a step back—which would give Ryan and co an opportunity to get out of the bathroom and run for cover.

 But instead, Wade shoved Ben, both hands against his chest.

 “Ah, so it’s
me
you want to dance with,” Ben said as he held up his arms in a graceful waltz position, even while imaginary Eden face-palmed from her perch on his shoulder. His sister could face-palm like no one else on the planet. Of course, it didn’t help that Ben could hear Izzy, over on his other shoulder, laughing his ass off.

 And yup.
That
was when Wade swung at him.

 It was less of a punch and more of a wild flail. Wade sent his arm roughly in Ben’s direction, and yeah, there was a clenched fist at the end of it. But it was slow and ugly—in fact, it looked exactly the way both Izzy and Dan had described it, when each had given Ben their personal version of a crash course in self-defense. Idiots and/or douchebags who lost their temper and erupted in violence tended to be careless amateurs when it came to fighting—both SEALs had told Ben that.

 Ben blocked the flail easily with his left hand, pushing Wade’s arm to the side and causing the heavier boy to lose his balance and stumble. Thank you, Izzy and Danny.

 But it was too early to take a final bow.

 With a roar, Wade came back around, this time attempting to grab Ben in a bear hug and knock him down to the ground. But again, his charge was fueled by anger—a mindless, blind rush that Ben easily sidestepped.

 It was, however, time to run because Wade had at least fifty pounds on Ben, if not more. And now it was Danny and Izzy’s friend Mark Jenkins’s voice that rang in Ben’s head. Mark was what Izzy called
height challenged
—a lean, compact, quick-footed SEAL with freckles and hair that was not quite as vibrantly red as Ben’s, but close.

 
When you’re up against a bigger guy,
Mark had told Ben,
never let him get too close.

 If Wade
did
knock Ben down, someone was going to get badly hurt. But Ryan and his friends were still frozen in the doorway of the boy’s bathroom, and there was no way Ben was going to run away and leave them there.

 Unless he was absolutely sure Wade was chasing
him
.

 But before he could dance away, using his body language to taunt the heavier boy into following, Wade came at him again.

 Only this time, as Ben moved to sidestep the lunge, he slipped. His foot skidded, just a little bit.

 Just enough to slow him down.

 He recovered and didn’t hit the floor, but Wade got close enough to grab his T-shirt with one ham-sized hand. Wade used his other arm like a cudgel, and—
wham
!—whaled Ben in the side of his face. The blow ricocheted his head into the concrete block wall next to the boy’s room. He hit with a sick-sounding thud—it was hard enough so that he saw actual stars.

 No tweeting birds, though. But stars were definitely twinkling.

 And so okay, now
death
was a possibility, up there along with an ass-kicking, and as Ben felt Wade raining even more blows on him, he ducked, arms over his head, so the other boy’s giant fists hit his back.

 
If you do get trapped
, Mark Jenkins had stressed,
don’t try to pull away, you’ll never get free. Step toward your adversary—he won’t expect that.

 Or throw up on him.
Eden’s advice.
That always works.

 
That
was
a serious possibility. His stomach was heaving, his head was throbbing as Ben turned back toward Wade and moved toward him, straightening up into a full-on embrace. And yup, Wade
wasn
’t expecting that. Not only did Ben get a surprise greeting from Wade’s giant-ass boner—
What
?—but he also caught a break as the bigger boy couldn’t keep hitting him, at least not as effectively, from that face-to-face proximity.

 Up this close, Ben also noted that Wade had really nice skin—smooth and blemish-free surrounding a pretty mouth. But he also had a serious case of dog-ass breath. Holy crap, that was deadly. Ben had to hold his nose. For a half a second, time froze as Wade stared back into Ben’s eyes.

 And for the weirdest nano-second, Ben thought that maybe Wade was going to kiss him.

 
Don’t hesitate.

 
Those
instructions came in a full variety of voices. Izzy’s. Dan’s. Mark’s. Eden’s. Even Jenni, who usually preached non-violence.

 So Ben didn’t wait to see what Wade was going to do next—be it kiss or death-delivering chokehold. He stepped even closer and brought his leg between Wade’s. He may have been skinny, but the muscles in his thighs were solid and strong, and it didn’t take much to swing his right leg up and completely crush Wade’s balls.

 Wade screamed as he let Ben go, but he was clearly fucking insane, because even though Ben danced back, Wade lunged at him again. And that was when Ben popped him with a hard, carefully placed right jab to the nose.

 
Ow.

 The force sent Wade slamming noisily into the lockers, Ryan’s friends scattered, but Ryan stayed. God, he was cute, but then again, Ben had always been a little bit in love with Harry Potter.

 “Go,” Ben told Ryan as Wade sank down onto the floor across the hall, clutching both his balls and his face as he moaned in pain. “Now. Before a teacher shows up. No point in you getting suspended, too.”

 But Ryan hesitated. “My mom’s a doctor,” he said, “so I know some stuff and—your head hit the wall really hard. You need to tell someone and get that checked. Promise me, Ben.”

 Ryan Spencer knew his name. Huh. “I will, I promise. Thanks. But
go
,” Ben said again, and the younger boy finally dashed away.

 And yup, clomping down the hall that led from the main office came a bevy (pride? gaggle? Ben was never sure which word applied) of teachers and administrators, including the portly security guard who sat near the front door, as well as the new vice principal, Ms. Quinbey, who was in charge of discipline. She was shaking her head in resigned disapproval as she approached.

 “Mr. Gillman, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she told Ben. She was
maybe
Jenn’s age, at most. She had to work it, hard, with the costume, hair, and make-up, to deliver the stern and scary.

 Ben backed even farther away from Wade, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

 But it was Wade who spoke, playing the pity card. “He hit me!” He didn’t bother attempting the
He hit me first
lie. He was well aware that that wouldn’t play. However, it was very evident that
some
one had hit him, so . . .

 Besides, it didn’t really matter who threw the first punch—or in this case, the first shove. The school had a zero tolerance policy for fighting.

 No doubt about it, Ben and Wade were both seriously screwed.

 Somewhere up in Napa, Eden and Jenn were probably having a leisurely breakfast with a group of Jenn’s friends. Somewhere on the Coronado Navy base, Izzy and Dan were no doubt doing some kind of crazy crap to keep their SEAL super-powers functioning at their usual high levels.

 As Ben was escorted to the front office, he also knew, without a doubt, that what he’d just done was going to seriously screw up
their
days, too.

****

Chapter Three

 Adam Wyndham’s agent sent the news via email.

 He didn’t get the job.

 
Shit
. The role was one that he wanted—badly. The script was well written and the movie was destined for the bigger film festivals—maybe even Sundance or SXSW.

 But it was the character—intriguing, complex, a blur of both darkness and light—that had set Adam on fire.

 He reached for his phone to text his fiancé, Tony, who always knew exactly what to say to soothe Adam’s pain. Tony always put things into perspective using words like
disappointment
and
irritation
instead of
pain
and
anger
, or even
miffed
instead of bat-shit, forehead-vein-pulsing
outraged
.

 Adam smiled just thinking about that. As an actor, he was drawn to both drama and hyperbole, taking what was, in fact, merely a disappointment, and ballooning it into soul-wrenching agony.

 So he didn’t get a role he wanted. Was he disappointed? Yes. Was he in agony? Nope.

 Tony’s even touch brought everything into a more realistic point of view, allowing Adam to recognize that his failure to get this job probably wasn’t personal. The casting director didn’t have some terrible vendetta against him. They’d no doubt gone with another actor who had a different look. Someone taller, probably. It happened.

 Adam didn’t need Tony to tell him that.

 At the same time, Adam didn’t need a reason to text Tony with a quick message:
Sitting here loving you madly.

 
Tony didn’t text him back—probably because he was running ten miles in his BDUs, boots, backpack and all, sweat pouring off of him . . .

 And yeah, like
that
wasn’t hot. Sometimes Tony came home already freshly showered, and sometimes he came home sticky and dirty, still in a sweaty uniform that needed to be peeled off.

 Adam liked it both ways. Most of all, he liked days like today where he wasn’t working, so he’d actually
be
here when Tony got home.

 He shot his husband-to-be another quick text:
Chinese take-out later? Maybe MUCH later . . . ? :-)

 
And, yes. He’d become one of those guys who texted smiley faces to his partner. But so-the-fuck what. Sue him for being happy.

 Because minor disappointments aside, today was going to be a really nice day.

 Of course, that was when the house line rang.

****

Chapter Four

 “Adam, oh good, you’re there!” Eden looked across the hotel lobby to where Jenn was sitting with her friend Maria. She gave her sister-in-law a thumbs up and what she hoped was an
everything’s a-okay
smile.

 “I am,” Adam said from his home on Coronado. He and Tony shared the sweetest little cottage not far from the island’s charming downtown. Eden tried not to be envious of them—easy to do because they were both great guys, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t have their own challenges. While the repeal of
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
had just been signed into law by the President and everyone knew that change was coming, it hadn’t happened yet. And although Tony was out to his friends and teammates, they all still had to tread carefully. “And you’re . . . oh, wait, isn’t this . . . ?” He answered his own question. “The wedding shower long weekend. You’re up in Napa with Jenn.”

 “Yes, I am,” she said, no doubt sounding more grim than she’d intended. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it was exhausting hanging out with so many women she didn’t know. They were all professionals, too. Lawyers, doctors, congresswomen even. And then . . . there was Eden, who’d busted her ass to get her GED, and who’d pulled in her biggest salary while stripping in Vegas.

 “Is everything okay?” Adam asked with a wariness in his tone that broadcast his hope that she was not calling to ask a favor. “Is Jenn . . . ?”

 “Jenn’s fine,” Eden said. At eight months pregnant, her brother Dan’s wife glowed with such good health, it was obnoxious. But in a good way, she quickly corrected herself. “But—and I’m so sorry to have to ask you this, but I just got a call from Ben’s school. He got into a fight and he’s actually being suspended—”

 “Oh,
shit
,” Adam said, laughing his surprise. “Really?”

 “Yes, really.” Eden sighed heavily. “I was hoping it would be better here.”

 “Oh, God, it is,” Adam told her, all reservation gone from his voice. “That wasn’t
that
kind of
Oh, shit
, it was more of an
Even when it’s better it’s not perfect Oh, shit.
Honey, trust me, it’s
so
much better for Ben at this school. I can tell just from talking to him—God, just from
looking
at him. He’s doing
really
well. But there’s always gonna be assholes, wherever he goes. That’s just life in America. So
Oh, shit
, you know?”

 “I guess so,” she said.

 “I know so. How can I help? You want me to go get him? Buy him an ice cream?”

 “Yes, please.” Eden closed her eyes. “But check his blood levels before the ice cream.” Ben was diabetic, and being in a fight had probably messed up his blood sugar. “Thank you
so
much. I called the base and spoke to the senior chief, and both Izzy and Danny are doing some kind of training jump. Tony, too. And Mark and Jay. Chief Lopez.
Every
one’s gone. They won’t be back for . . . I don’t even know how many hours.”