Unquiet (28 page)

Afterward, Loren lay awake in the king-sized feather bed, Eliot snuggled against his shoulder as he slept a deep and peaceful sleep. Dying firelight danced along the walls and snow drifted outside their hotel room window. It was cozy and warm, and Loren couldn’t ever remember feeling so relaxed and content, like he was exactly where he belonged.

It was a feeling he’d cling to desperately in the coming months, and if he’d only known, he might have stayed awake all night to enjoy it instead of drifting off into dreamless slumber.

“SMITH.”

“Smitty, I need you to get out here.”

Loren knew better than to protest that he wanted this last peaceful night with Eliot, realizing the life of a detective meant no real downtime when there was an active case. Still. “My—uh, my roommate and I just got back from the Grand—”

Jackson interrupted. “I don’t care if you have a Victoria’s Secret model on her knees in front of you right this fucking minute, I need you to get here.” He rattled off an address Loren recognized to be in a seedy part of downtown Phoenix, and he heaved an inward sigh.

“Be there in thirty.”

He eased away from a sleeping Eliot and dressed quickly and quietly in some jeans and a sweatshirt, taking his gun and shield out of the small combination safe he had on the top shelf of their bedroom closet. Loren slipped on some tennis shoes and went to the kitchen, scribbling a note for Eliot and returning to the bedroom to tape it to the bathroom mirror before getting in his truck and making the drive to the address Levi gave him.

He expected a chaotic scene where something big just went down, so he was surprised everything seemed quiet. Levi, Marshall, and a couple of other guys were standing on the sidewalk next to a dejected figure sitting slumped at the curb, his arms over his upraised knees and his head hanging down. As Loren got out of his truck and walked over, he felt a jolt of recognition; the kid sitting at the curb was the young rent boy Loren had given some money and the Social Services card to the night they shook down Borges.

“Hey,” Loren called out as he neared the group, and Levi detached himself and headed to meet him.

“Kid says he’ll only talk to you,” Levi said with no preamble.

Loren stopped short. “About what?” he said in bewilderment. “And how did he know to ask for me? He dropped my card, didn’t take it with him.”

Levi gave an impatient gesture. “He remembered the first name sounded kind of like a woman’s name, and he said ‘the daddy with the rockin’ bod,’ so we figured that meant you.” He smirked and Loren felt himself flush.

“But—”

“He was picked up on a solicitation sting earlier, and he claims to have some info on Cholito and little girls and something about babies, most likely trying to avoid going to County tonight. Like I said, he’ll only talk to you, so we got your ass down here. See if you can get anything out of the little fairy, would ya?”

Loren nodded and approached the boy, lowering himself to sit next to him on the curb.

“I’m Loren,” he said gently. “What’s your name?”

After a few beats of silence, the boy raised his head and looked at Loren. “Javier.”

“What did you want to talk to me about, Javier?”

Javier stared down at his feet, not saying anything more.

“You hungry?” Loren asked, knowing food was the way to a teenage boy’s heart. “I’m starving. How about a burger?”

Javier didn’t look at him, but he nodded, and Loren pushed to his feet. “Going over to Mickey D’s,” he murmured to Levi.

“Okay,” Levi replied. “When you’re done, if it’s anything we need to be interested in, call a uni to take him in and go do a hot-wash.”

“Copy that,” Loren said. “How old is he? Is he going to juvie?”

“Poor bastard just turned eighteen last week. He goes to County.” Levi shrugged and walked off.

Loren turned to the boy and jerked his head at the Golden Arches glowing in the distance about a block away.

“Let’s go. My treat.”

Javier stood and they trudged down the street, not speaking. When they got to the fast-food restaurant, Loren bought Javier a large meal and himself a cup of coffee, and they sat in a booth toward the back of the nearly deserted dining room.

Loren waited while the kid wolfed down most of his food before asking, “Why did you want to talk to me?”

“That night I seen you,” Javier began, “Borges came up later and told me some guys wanted to know what it felt like to get blown by a dude, some a’ his homies and customers.”

Loren hoped the disgust he was feeling toward those men didn’t show on his face, and he gave a terse nod. “Did you do it?”

“Yeah. They paid for it, else I wouldn’t a’ done it. Couple of ’em smacked me around after so they wouldn’t feel so gay.” He shrugged, and Loren’s heart ached. The life of a streetwalker: it wasn’t
Pretty Woman
.

“But afterward I heard a few of the guys talkin’, said now they knew what it felt like to get sucked off by a dude, it would be awesome to know what it felt like to teach a virgin how to do it the way they like it, a girl that had never given a blowjob before.”

Loren’s fingers threatened to crush the Styrofoam coffee cup he was holding, and he forced himself to relax so he wouldn’t spook Javier.

Javier stuffed some more fries in his mouth and mumbled around them, “They started sayin’ that all women and girls are whores, and you need a kid if you want a virgin these days. One or two of the dudes said, ‘No thanks,’ and left, but a couple of them acted interested and kept talking about it. Then Borges said he knew Cholito had some little girls.”

This time Loren couldn’t help the vicious curse that slipped from his lips, and Javier looked up in alarm. He made a concerted effort to gentle his voice.

“It’s not you. Borges lied to me.”

“Yeah, he’s a piece of shit,” Javier said darkly. “He taps my ass sometimes without paying, but every now and then he’ll give me a hit of boy for free.” Street slang for heroin. Loren looked for track marks on the boy’s arms and didn’t see any, wincing as he thought of Javier shooting up between his toes or in his groin.

“Did Borges make arrangements with these assholes?” Loren asked, dreading the answer.

“Nah, he just said he didn’t think Cholito was ready to make ’em available yet, and the guys told him to let ’em know and left. Then Borges started laughing and told me one of the girls was only thirteen but she was already knocked up, wasn’t no virgin. Cholito was gonna teach her how to fake being one, though, ’cause it was guaranteed bank considering all the pervs and cho-mos out there these days.”

Loren felt sick and swallowed hard, but Javier wasn’t done.

“They wanna sell her baby too,” he muttered around his soda straw. “Borges said even if it’s brown, there gotta be some desperate couples out there that want a newborn no matter what, and Cholito could probably get a bidding war started.”

Javier looked up at Loren, his eyes flat, almost soulless in his young face, and Loren whispered, “Why exactly are you telling me this, Javier? What’s in it for you?”

The boy shrugged. “Keep me out of County,” he said. “I’m eighteen now, and I don’t wanna go to adult jail. I figured that info gotta be worth something to you pigs. Don’t like that black dude you was hangin’ with, he always calls me names, so I asked for you. At least you was nice to me.”

Loren resolved with clenched jaw to recommend his entire squad go back to diversity training ASAP. He stood and walked a little ways away from the table, pulling his cell out of his pocket and calling for a uniformed officer to come and take Javier to jail on the charges of solicitation and pandering.

Then he dialed Levi and muttered, “We gotta go jack up Borges. Now.”

ELIOT WOKE
up by degrees with a lazy stretch. He reached out for Loren but discovered his side of the bed was cold; he’d been gone for a while. Just then Eliot’s watch beeped, and he struggled out of the warm depths of the bed and padded to the bathroom, immediately seeing Loren’s note.
Gotta run in to work. Back soon as I can.
He’d drawn a heart at the bottom and written the time: 1:00 a.m.

Eliot swallowed his meds and went to the kitchen. The house was quiet and still, the appliances ticking softly. Eliot ate a small breakfast in order to give his pills something to react with, then took a long, hot shower. After that he dressed in some comfortable sweats and set about doing some more unpacking.

The day passed slowly but pleasantly, and Eliot was involved in organizing Loren’s office when he heard the garage door go up at last. A few seconds later, Loren called his name, and Eliot shouted back, “In here!”

Loren appeared in the doorway, and Eliot caught his breath. He looked haggard, exhausted, his eyes haunted. Without thinking, Eliot pushed up from the floor and moved into his arms, grunting as Loren clutched him to him.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Eliot whispered, smoothing his hands up and down Loren’s tense back.

Loren didn’t answer, just buried his face in Eliot’s neck and breathed him in. At last he loosened his hold and backed up a little, lifting Eliot’s chin and kissing him thoroughly.

When he finally broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Eliot’s, he said with a sigh, “Rough night. Rough case. About the only thing that got me through it was knowing you were home waiting for me.” He pulled Eliot to him again. “God, it’s so good to hold you.”

They stood there like that for several minutes until Loren pulled away. “I need a shower so bad,” he muttered, and Eliot let him go.

“Want some coffee or something to eat?” he asked, and Loren shook his head.

“I just want to get cleaned up and relax, watch SportsCenter,” he said with a rueful grin. “Exciting, I know.”

“Can you talk about it?” Eliot asked, following Loren toward their bedroom, perching on the end of the bed as Loren stripped his clothes off and threw them into the hamper with a grimace, padding naked toward the bathroom.

“No,” he said as he turned on the shower, waiting until it heated up before stepping inside with a groan of pleasure. “I can’t discuss my active cases, even if I wanted to, El.” His voice was firm, so Eliot nodded and left Loren alone to relax, going back to his unpacking.

Several minutes later Eliot could hear the TV come on in the den, the talking heads of the sports show blathering on and on until finally Loren appeared in the doorway of the office, leaning against the jamb.

“I won’t discuss this case with you because I don’t want any ugliness in your life to come from me,” Loren murmured. “I don’t need to talk about it with you, and it’s enough for me to know that you’re here, you’re safe, and you’re mine. That’s what comforts me.”

He came and dropped to the floor next to Eliot, reaching for another box, and for a while the only sound in the room came from tape being ripped off of cardboard and the rustling of wrapping paper.

Eliot reflected on Loren’s words, the little bit of hurt he felt at Loren’s refusal to talk about his day with him evaporating. This is what it meant to be in a “normal” relationship, learning about each other and how to meet each other’s needs, even if how Loren wanted his needs met was different than how Eliot wanted to meet them. Loren had colleagues he’d spent the day discussing the case with; what he needed at home was normalcy, companionship, understanding.

Eliot scooted a little closer to Loren until the knees of their crossed legs brushed, and he felt warmth go through him when Loren passed his hand up and down Eliot’s back and squeezed the back of his neck before he unwrapped the object he’d just pulled from a box.

Loren sat with it on his lap for a long time, a faint wistful smile on his face, and at last Eliot leaned over and looked at what he held. It was a picture, obviously taken at the summit of some mountain. Loren was sunburned, his lips chapped, but his grin was triumphant, almost giddy. The man next to him was in much the same shape, his eyes squinted against the sun, the light illuminating the beautiful golden color they were.

Loren had his arm slung around the other man’s shoulders, and the guy’s arm was wrapped around Loren’s waist.

“That’s him?” Eliot asked. “The man you were involved with these last few years?”

Loren glanced at him. “Yes. His name is Kai. We loved to hike and camp together, and this was at the summit of Mt. Ranier. Damn, that was a challenge, but we made it.”

Eliot put his head on Loren’s shoulder, looking down at the picture. Kai was gorgeous, and they both looked so happy.

“You loved him.” Eliot’s voice was matter-of-fact, if a little faint, and he felt Loren bring his arm around him and give him a tight squeeze.

“Very much, and I still do,” Loren replied. “But I told you, I was never in love with him. When we met, we both needed—we needed healing, El, and that’s what we were to each other for a long time. After that it was friendship, nothing more.” He cupped Eliot’s cheek and kissed him. “I never needed him the way I need you. He couldn’t fill the hole you left in my heart at seventeen. Only you can do that. And I wasn’t enough for him either. He has what he wants now, what he needs, and so do I. God, so do I.”

He pulled Eliot fully into his lap, and the kiss turned almost desperate, the raw need in Loren’s kiss, the way he roamed his hands across Eliot’s body like he was reassuring himself Eliot was real, comforting Eliot like no words ever could.

Eliot stood and led Loren to the bedroom. They fell onto the bed together, clothes melted away, and Eliot took Loren deep inside, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him. He whispered words of love into his ear until Loren shuddered against him, his face buried in Eliot’s neck.

When Loren was asleep, Eliot disengaged himself and pulled on his sweats, then padded back to the office and picked up the abandoned picture of Kai and Loren from the floor, and arranged it on the corner of Loren’s desk.

WHEN LOREN
awoke, disoriented, it was several hours later, and he could see through the windows that it was completely dark outside. A glance at the clock showed it was almost 11:00 p.m., and after a moment, the light in the bathroom went off, and Eliot slid into bed next to him.