Wild Horses (41 page)

Attila.

Kai remembered Attila, and the fact that he remembered flooded him with relief. Then, fragments of emotions and memories began to reappear. He had been angry at Attila, he felt betrayed but he didn’t remember why, and… there was some kind of an accident. Frustrated, Kai hit the palm of his hand against his forehead, and howled in pain.

“You have a goose egg on your head,” Theodore supplied with a smirk. “Your knuckles are skinned, too.”

It was the smirk and the wiseass tone that did it. Suddenly, Kai knew how this man fit into his and into Attila’s lives.

“You must be Theodork.”

R
ICKEY
sat wedged between Attila and Hal. “There’s the front door, a loading dock in the back, and kind of a side door, I think,” he said. “The street gets some rush hour traffic, but it’s pretty empty otherwise.”

“What sort of business was it?” Attila asked, trying to determine what to expect.

“Uh… I used to see produce trucks in there when I worked at the pipe factory two years ago. It belonged to one of the supermarket chains, I think, but they moved out when all that construction on Route 28 made travel just about impossible.” Attila glanced at Rickey, who sat next to him as if on pins and needles.

“Thank you for helping,” Attila said, trying to put the younger man at ease. “You’re Theo’s partner. That’s nice—I’m glad he found somebody level-headed.” At least Rickey looked levelheaded. He asked the right questions, and that was key in Attila’s book.

“I’m his business partner,” Rickey began with a bit of hesitation. “Our aunt left us her flower shop. It used to be called ‘Aunt Rose’s’, and she had no kids and we were her favorite nephews.”

Not even a beat of silence elapsed before Hal cut to the chase. “Wait, so Theo told Attila that you are his
partner
, whereas you’re just business partners? If you have an aunt in common, that would make you cousins, right?”

“Yeah.” Rickey sighed. “Besides, I’m straight. I guess Theo felt like he had to show somebody off.”

“And you don’t feel the need to cover for him,” Attila suggested, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“It’s been over a year. He always calls us partners, and he’s so flamboyant, people make assumptions. Do you realize how many women he’s chased away? If I wanna get lucky, I have to cross the river and go to where nobody knows me.”

Hal laughed, then sobered up. “Sorry, man. That sucks. I’m just glad we have a native guide here. I’ve never tried to break in to anywhere to rescue anyone, so… you know how to pick locks, right?”

Nobody said anything for a while. Only the bridge expansion joints rumbled as they crossed the Allegheny River.

“Well… I can shoot a lock off,” Rickey said. “Are we even armed?”

“I have my bullwhip,” Attila said. “That won’t help with the locks much.”

“A bullwhip? Seriously?” Rickey’s incredulous voice was gaining in volume. “You mean you’re taking me in to where some bad guys will be and you don’t even have a plan?” Rickey bellowed, his head spinning from Hal to Attila and then back to Hal again. “Are you two fucking nuts?”

“No. We are not fucking nuts,” Attila replied, his cultured accent at odds with his vocabulary. “We are going in to see if Lindsey might be held there, and if it looks promising, we shall call the police.”

Hal looked thoughtful for a while. “You ran this plan of yours by my dad, right?”

“Your mother gave me the address,” Attila supplied, not answering the question.

“Shit.” Hal swallowed dry. “You have no bloody idea what you’re doing, do you, Uncle ’Tila?”

Attila cleared his throat and wiped a nonexistent stray hair off his forehead. “I must admit I would feel a lot more comfortable if this posse arrived on horseback.”

K
AI
woke up because somebody was shaking his shoulder and pouring cold coffee down his throat. His eyes were glued together and his tongue was parched. The coffee felt sharp and biting, drying him out even more. He moaned, pushing the hand away.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” The voice was unfamiliar and so was the smell of the place. A sudden jolt of fear roused Kai to a state of partial wakefulness. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my flower shop. You were drugged, and I am helping you while Attila and the guys went off to look for that girl,” Theodore recited with exaggerated patience. “And you’re calling me names as soon as you can talk again.”

Kai reddened. “Sorry. Stuff just flies out my mouth, and I keep seeing weird shit.” He peered at the irate florist. “At least your face isn’t melting off your skull. A bunch of guys looked like that when the shit that asshole slipped me began to kick in. That was fucking freaking me out.”

“Do you always talk like that?” Theodore snorted in amusement.

“Like what?” Kai tried to stand up. It took him four tries. His feet felt almost navigable, and he stumbled forward and crashed into a folding table before he righted himself. “Sorry ’bout that. Fucking legs won’t work. Bathroom?” He was pleased to find he wasn’t slurring his words as much anymore. He had a vague recollection of slurring, and stumbling, and being very angry at Attila.

Theodore showed Kai toward the bathroom and it took a while before Kai emerged. His hands and face were still wet and, despite the cold water treatment, he felt unaccountably tired. Not knowing whether his footing was stable yet, Kai measured each step with care on his way into the store proper.

Theodore sat on a stool in his work area. He glanced up and smiled. “Feeling better?”

“Did Attila say anything?” Kai looked around until he located the second stool and perched on its seat. He leaned on the backrest with a sigh, grateful to have the support.

“No, just that you were drugged. Must have happened at Frankie’s. Any idea who did it?”

Kai watched Theo snip pink spray roses with nimble fingers to just the right length. He attached a bow to a rhinestone bracelet and glued the rosebuds onto the felt disc intended to hold them.

“The bartender. Larry. I used to think he was a friend.” The words were bitter as they left Kai’s mouth. “Then again, I used to think lots of people were my friends.” Since Theodore did not react to the information, Kai directed his attention to Theodore’s work. “What are you doing?”

“Corsages. There’s a wedding we’re doing. We used to wire and tie the flowers, but the glue’s much faster. This way you can do fancier designs, too. They’ll all die by tomorrow night anyway.” He took a spray of small, waxy green leaves and snipped off three little branches, gluing them under the buds. He lifted his creation and looked it over before he proffered it for Kai’s inspection. “What do you think?”

Kai shrugged. “I don’t know what’s expected.”

“But does it look too bare? I’m thinking I should add some baby’s breath, except the bride said it’s out of fashion. It needs something, though.”

Kai peered at the wrist corsage. “It’s just a bunch of dead vegetable sex organs.”

Theodore’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure you and Attila are together? He loves flowers, you know. You mean you never gave him any flowers?” He leaned forward, his imperfect corsage forgotten for the moment.

“No,” Kai’s mouth stretched into a slow smile. “I shovel shit for him, not roses.”

“But what do you do when you want to do something extra special for him?” Theodore pressed, returning to his task and gluing another rosebud in the middle.

“We read together,” Kai mused. “Sometimes we go out and share a chocolate milk shake.”

“Attila doesn’t like sweets.”

“If it’s dark chocolate with mint, he does,” Kai insisted. Then he paused. “So… what flowers does he like?”

“Oh, all kinds. Figure it out.” Theodore seemed to sulk as he placed the corsage into a plastic clam shell box, sprayed it with water, and walked it into the cooler.

“So why did you dump him?” Kai decided to resume his own offensive.

“’Cause he’s a lying fraud, is why.” There was no hesitation in Theo’s voice. When Kai didn’t rally to Attila’s defense, Theodore looked at the way his coppery eyebrows drew together. “Oh, you figured it out, too, did you?” he crowed. “Man, I was just so disappointed. Here I thought, I get this cool Dom all to myself. But, boy, was I wrong!”

Kai startled. “What, he cheated on you?”

Theodore shook his head, his hands busy with another pink spray rose corsage. “Nope. He didn’t do anything. He’s a fucking wuss, is what he is. He was posing as this big, bad Dominus, but when push came to shove, all he’d ever do is vanilla sex, you know?”

A small light bulb was coming on in Kai’s woozy head. “So, you weren’t compatible in bed?”

Theodore shrugged. Some glue dripped on his finger and he cursed and wiped it off with an alcohol-soaked pad. “He used to look so hot at Frankie’s, when we met. He was always in charge, telling people what to do and they did it, you know? Sometimes, a bit of punishment was necessary… until they did it right, and they loved every second of it. He never stayed long, which is one thing that made him so popular. Supply and demand, and he controlled the supply. The first time he was there, he almost got mobbed—that’s why he’d carry that whip around. To remind people they better give him his space. He could never stand being crowded.”

The small light bulb in Kai’s head was growing a bit brighter. “So did he let others do stuff to him?” Kai asked.

“Sure. He’d get blown every so often, but always in private. Or he’d fuck someone. Sometimes he’d tie them up—there were guys who loved that sort of shit—but it was always private. The rest of us would only hear about it.”

Kai leaned back and closed his eyes. Thinking of Attila’s past was hard, and hearing of his former exploits was even harder, but Kai knew that it would have been hypocritical to make any judgments.

“Aaaaah, you’re jealous!” Theodore crowed as he sprayed another corsage before he put it in the cooler.

“Well, duh, Theodork. Of course I’m jealous.” Kai took a sip of water; his headache was getting a bit better, but his heartache was as strong as ever.

“So what’s your problem, Kai? He doesn’t get kinky for you, either?”

Kai wasn’t usually the type who would kiss and tell, but this Theodork character had precious data which just might help save his tenuous relationship.

“I have never lied to you.”

Attila’s words ran through his mind like an advertisement jingle during the holidays—it was impossible to forget. He shrugged. “I can’t say he doesn’t get kinky at all,” he allowed, watching Theodork’s face for any signs of a reaction, either positive or negative. “I mean, he really loved being restrained when we made love.”

Theo’s face froze in shock and his caramel eyes widened. “No fucking way. What did you do?”

Kai didn’t feel like going into the details, but the brain-to-mouth regulator seemed to be malfunctioning, because the next thing that flew out of his own mouth shocked him. “Why? He didn’t want you to tie his wrists together when you topped him?” Kai groaned. Now he’d crossed a line by volunteering private information.

“
You topped him?
” Attila’s former lover shrieked in disbelief, his face reflecting an odd mixture of victory and sorrow. “I knew it. I just knew he was a fucking fraud. He’d never let anyone top him, as far as I knew, pretending he was this big bad wolf, but he’s really just another sheep. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. I don’t care what his reputation used to be—he is no Dom at all.”

Kai sat still, shaking his head as he sought to dislodge the persistent cobwebs that still clouded his mind. He tried to digest the information presented to him. “Maybe he wasn’t a big, bad Dom, like you’d read about on some website, or whatever,” he said, sounding almost hopeful. “I’m pretty sure about one thing, though. Attila did not lie—at least, I don’t think he did. Not to me.”

A
TTILA
’
S
jaw ached with tightness as he stalked the cruddy parking lot pavement. He tensed up his shoulders as he tried the front door: locked. He listened for sounds on the other side, but there were none. The side door was shut as well, no cars were parked around, and the promising warehouse seemed to be devoid of life.

“Hey! Up here!” An echo of Hal’s voice bounced off the bricks of the neighboring abandoned factory, and Attila turned on his toe and jogged to the back. The loading dock was built to accommodate five trucks, and one of the roll-up doors was cracked open. Not much—just a foot or so—and a piece of four-by-four lumber held the door wedged open.

“Looks like nobody’s home,” Rickey whispered, relief apparent in his voice.

“But why leave it open like that?” Hal queried, already down on his knees and looking in. “Looks dismal in there. Kind of dark.”

“She might have been here,” Attila said. “We need to see what’s inside. And we need to make sure we don’t touch any surfaces—there might be fingerprints the police will want to get.”

“If you really think this is a crime scene, we shouldn’t go in at all, we should just call the cops,” Rickey chimed in. “I saw that on CSI.”