Cade Creek 11 - Race Against Time (2 page)

“Then call them and reschedule.”

The man’s voice turned haughty and clipped when he replied. “You do not call
La Cerveceria
and reschedule. The waiting list is a month long just for reservations as it is.”

When Aldrin turned, Race actually felt a bit of sympathy for the guy his friend was dating. The latest boy toy had no idea, but he had just blown any chance he had of keeping Aldrin. Race’s friend had exacting standards when it came to dating someone, and assholes didn’t make the cut.

“Then I suggest you leave now or you’re going to be late.” Aldrin’s smile was pure plastic. “I wouldn’t want you to miss your reservations.”

The guy gasped before spinning on his heel and storming away.

“I’m sorry, Aldrin.”

“He wasn’t going to be around for long anyway. All he wanted to talk about was his home in the Hamptons and which trust fund baby had been caught in a compromising position.” Aldrin’s eye roll was dramatic. “Boring.”

“I’m still sorry.” Race’s lips twitched at the corners with his need to laugh. “I know how much you’ve been wanting to go to
La Cerveceria
.”

“Aah.” Aldrin waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll find someone else to take me.”

Race had no doubt he would. Aldrin didn’t stay single very long. Granted, he never seemed to be with the same man for a long period, but he always had another guy waiting to take up when the previous one pissed him off.

“So.” Aldrin grinned. “How about a travel buddy to the airport?”

Race couldn’t say no to Aldrin. He never could, not since the first day they met at a café where Aldrin was a waiter and the guy decided they were going to be friends. Race never had a chance. Now, he wasn’t sure what he would do without the man.

“This is last minute. I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for my airplane.”

Aldrin shrugged. “Looks like I’m free tonight anyway.”

Race laughed but quickly wrapped his arm around his bruised ribs. “Oh, don’t make me laugh.”

Aldrin grew serious as he pulled out his cell phone and started snapping pictures. Aldrin always took pictures when Terrence beat him up. He said the bruises would fade, the pictures wouldn’t.

“How bad is it, Race?” he asked when he was all done.

“Bruised ribs, bruised face, bruised arms.” Race held up the neon-green cast. “Broken wrist.”

Aldrin’s nostrils flared as he inhaled. “Are they going to arrest him this time?”

“Doubt it.” They hadn’t arrested the fucker the last two times Terrence wouldn’t take no for an answer. “That’s why I’m going home. He can’t touch me in Cade Creek.”

“Honey.” Aldrin looked at him like he was crazy. “I know how much you love that place, but Cade Creek is not going to protect you from a madman.”

A harsh bark of laughter shot out of Race’s mouth. “Wanna bet?”

He knew Aldrin didn’t understand about Cade Creek, but that was simply because the man had never been there before. Race couldn’t wait to go back. It was the one place in the entire world he felt perfectly safe walking down the street no matter what time of the day or night it was.

Cade Creek and all of the people who lived there were home to Race. It was as simple—and as complicated—as that. And he couldn’t wait to get back. His skin itched with the need that started swimming through him, the excitement of once again being home where Terrence Flannery couldn’t get to him again. Dorian and Bear would ensure it.

When the nurse handed him a prescription for pain medication and aftercare instructions for his injuries, Race grabbed what was left of the shirt they had cut off of him in the emergency room—shooting the green hospital shirt they had supplied him with a deep glare—and started for the door.

He had only one thing on his mind. Get to the airport and get home before Terrence figured out he had escaped the city. The man would go postal. Terrence did not like being told no. It had something to do with the silver spoon in his mouth and the stick up his ass. Born into money, he was used to getting what he wanted, and he wanted Race.

Race didn’t feel the same. Terrence had been nice enough in the beginning. Introduced by his dance instructor as a benefactor of the arts, Race had instantly gotten a bad feeling about the man. That opinion hadn’t improved when Terrence started showing up wherever Race went, constantly asking him out on dates.

It had been somewhat flattering in the beginning, but when the man persisted and wouldn’t take no for an answer, Race started avoiding him. He had quickly learned that Terrence had an anger problem to go along with his spoiled rich kid persona.

The first time, Terrence had just knocked him around a little. The second time, the hits had been a whole lot harder, and hurt a damn sight more. This time, Terrence had gone too far. Race wasn’t willing to stick around to see how far Terrence would go the next time. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

They reached the airport without incident. Race still watched over his shoulder the entire time. He knew Terrence was giving him time to have his wounds treated before showing his face again. He was probably establishing an alibi in case Race decided to try and press charges again.

Race didn’t see the point.

Terrence came from money and had high-priced lawyers at his beck and call. The first two times he had assaulted Race, and Race had pressed charges, they had been dismissed before Race even made it out of the emergency room. Even with enough evidence to put Terrence away this time, Race wasn’t going to chance it. He was headed home where people wouldn’t think he was some two-bit hooker trying to blackmail such an upstanding citizen.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Race said as they walked inside the airport. “This has got to be as exciting as picking lint out of your belly button.”

“Hey,” Aldrin said in a totally affronted voice. “I’ll have you know I have a fantastic belly button. Men vie for the chance at my lint.”

Race snorted. Aldrin was too weird for words.

When they reached the Delta Airlines check-in counter, the amusement Race had been feeling dried up like the Sahara Desert. He rubbed his hands together, his nerves strung tight as he waited in line. The sudden pounding in his chest intensified when the woman behind the counter gasped when she saw him.

“Car accident.” He wasn’t about to tell her he’d had his ass handed to him by a moron with too much money and not enough sense. That was his own demon to fight.

“Oh, you poor thing.” The sympathy in her eyes made her seem just a little bit more human. “Do you need a wheelchair or an early escort onto the plane?”

“No, but thank you.” Race smiled weakly. “I believe there is a ticket waiting for me. Racine Tuff?” Race pulled his wallet out and flashed his driver’s license to the woman.

“One moment, sir.” The woman glanced down and started typing away. “Oh yes, I have you right here.” The woman smiled as she looked up. “First class all the way, Mr. Tuff.”

Race’s eyebrows shot up. “Dorian bought me a first class ticket?”

The clerk glanced down real quick. “Yep. It looks that way.” When she looked back up, her smile was still in place. “Do you have any bags to check?”

“No.” Race offered the barest of smiles when the woman raised an eyebrow. “Just a carry-on.”

“Here is your ticket.” The woman handed over a narrow slip of paper. “You’re in luck, not only is your flight on time, it’s a direct flight. You won’t have to transfer planes.”

“That would be great.” Race didn’t know if he had the energy to go from plane to plane right now. The pain meds they had given him at the hospital were starting to wear off and everything hurt.

“You’re plane leaves in two hours, Mr. Tuff. I hope you have a nice flight.”

“Thank you.” Two hours wasn’t bad in the grand scheme of things. If he could get behind the security gate, he’d have a better chance of not being spotted by Terrence and his goons. Race had no doubt that as soon as Terrence learned he had left the hospital, the guy was going to start looking for him.

Race walked with Aldrin to security, pausing before he got into line to turn and look at his friend. “Thanks for coming with me, Aldrin.”

Aldrin frowned at him. “That’s what friends do, numskull. Besides”—Aldrin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively—“I noticed a couple of hotties back at the first class club bar. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find someone to take me to
La Cerveceria
after all. Wouldn’t that chap Robert’s hide.”

“Robert?” Race asked. “Was that his name?”

Aldrin shrugged. “Robert, Robby, Roberto, something like that.”

Race chuckled. “One of these days I’m going to get you to Cade Creek and you’ll meet some real hotties. I can guarantee you won’t forget their names.”

“You get all healed up and I’ll take you up on that invitation.”

“Yeah.” First he needed to get healed up and then he needed to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. It didn’t look like attending The Juilliard School was going to be happening, not if it meant going back to the same city where Terrence Flannery lived.

Aldrin grimaced as he looked Race up and down, his eyes settling on the neon-green cast. “I’d hug you, but I can’t figure out where to touch you that isn’t bruised.”

“Thanks anyway.” Race held out the hand that wasn’t broken. “Thanks for everything, Aldrin.”

“You take care of yourself, Race. Try to stay out of trouble.” A wicked gleam came into Aldrin’s brown eyes. “Just not too much.” Aldrin winked as he started to back up. “Sometimes, trouble can be a lot of fun.”

Race laughed softly. Anything more than that would hurt too damn much. “I’ll be seeing you, Aldrin.”

“Catch you next time around, Race.” Aldrin waved and then bounced off down the concourse toward the first class club bar.

Race shook his head before turning and stepping into the roped-off section for those needing to go through the TSA security checkpoint. He was glad he remembered to grab his wallet before the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. They didn’t let you through security without identification.

Surprisingly, getting through security was relatively easy. He only had to stand in line for about twenty minutes, but by the time he was through to the other side, all Race wanted to do was find a place to settle down and sleep for a week. He hurt in places he didn’t know he had.

Race walked down the long corridor until he reached his gate. He found a chair off by itself and settled down into it. He had a little over an hour to wait until his flight, assuming he could stay awake that long.

An hour later, Race was settling himself into another chair, one in the first class cabin of the airplane. He still couldn’t believe Dorian had purchased him a first class ticket, but man, he was glad he had. Not only were the chairs spacious, which meant he wouldn’t be bumped by other passengers, but he got to board before others.

When the flight attendant came around, Race asked for a blanket, a pillow, and a wake-up call when they landed. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep his eyes open much longer. His pain level was becoming worse. The damn pain meds had worn off, but he didn’t dare take another one, not until he was somewhere safe.

Race snuggled down in his seat and leaned his head against the bulkhead before pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. When tears formed in his eyes, he closed them, refusing to let them fall. Even on a jetliner, zooming through the night air, Cade Creek seemed so far away. He wondered if he was ever going to get home.

He was home. As he stepped off the airplane and onto the narrow passageway that led to the main terminal, Race almost stumbled in relief. Granted, he was still in the city, but it was the city closest to Cade Creek. A two-hour drive and he’d be safe in Cade Creek.

He just needed to find his ride.

As soon as Race reached the busy concourse, he started searching for Dorian. He didn’t see him anywhere, and as big as he was, Dorian was kind of hard to miss. Race nibbled on his lower lip as he looked around. Maybe Dorian was waiting for him down in baggage claim. The man had no way of knowing Race didn’t have any baggage to claim.

He started to head to the escalators that led to the lower level where people went to get the luggage when a sign a man was holding caught his attention.

Dirty Dozen.

Now, what were the chances he—a former member of the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club—would be headed home, ready to meet up with the former leader of said club, when he came across a guy holding a sign with the name of the club on it?

And he was a really hot guy, too. As was the guy standing next to him. One stood slightly taller than the other, and was a bit more muscular, but both men were darkly tanned and buff, with miles of lickable skin.

Race almost drooled. He might have, too, if the taller of the two men hadn’t suddenly looked in his direction, the man’s jaw firming as he took in the mess that Race was. Race took a step back from the anger he could see flaring to life in the guy’s dark-brown eyes.

He really didn’t need to have a run-in with someone else who was angry. He had barely walked away from the last pissed-off Neanderthal. Wishing his life didn’t suck as much as it did, Race turned away from the two gorgeous men and started looking for Dorian again.