Hide Out (31 page)

“How’re you feeling?” Pete asked him, moving next to the bed. Trevor grimaced. “Same. They need to add another option to the pain scale—

shitty.”

“Guess what, Trev,” Wash said, plopping down on the bed next to Trevor’s hip.

“Petey figured out who killed Greg and set the fire.”

“Abby?” Trevor guessed and then winced. “Fuck, Wash, quit bouncing. You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry,” Wash told him. “Yeah. She’s turned out to be a real psycho. When she was confessing, it was like she was telling us about her day at the zoo. It was nuts.”

“How’d she kill Greg?” Trevor asked.

“Pretended to be you,” Wash said.

Trevor stared at him. “Seriously?”

Wash nodded, giving another small bounce of excitement. Rhodes’ hands clamped onto his shoulders, holding him still. “Shit—did I do it again? Sorry, Trev. Yeah, she sent Greg an e-mail saying you wanted to hook up and he should blindfold himself and lie naked on the bed. She got there, tied him up and then…” He made a stabbing motion.

“Why’d she start the fire?”

Pete’s stomach twisted at the mention. “She overheard Danny telling us she was lying about her alibi. She saw two men go into the garage, you and a big, dark-haired man she thought was me. Figured she’d get rid of us before we could go to the sheriff.”

Although Trevor just nodded, his eyes were distant.

“We’ll let you talk,” Rhodes told them, tugging Wash to his feet. “C’mon Wash.”

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“Want anything from the cafeteria?” Wash asked as Rhodes pulled him toward the door. “Jell-O? We could get you any color.”

With a half-smile, Trevor shook his head. “Thanks though.”

“Your loss,” Wash warned him, giving a final grin before pulling the door closed behind them.

Pete was quiet for a moment, biting his cheek. “Would it hurt too much if I…” He didn’t finish, feeling a little stupid for even beginning to ask.

“What?” Trevor’s smile grew a little. “If you fuck me? I don’t think so. I might want to ask the nurse for another dose of painkillers first though.”

Pete laughed and shook his head. “I just wanted to lie down next to you.”

“Sleepy?”

“It’s just that I keep looking at you,” Pete explained awkwardly. “And I don’t really believe you’re here and okay. Would you mind if I,”
Oh fuck, how cheesy is this going to
sound?
“just held you for a few minutes?”

“Knock yourself out,” Trevor told him, flipping his hand at the empty space to his left side. “Just don’t jump around like you’re in a fucking bouncy castle and I’ll be fine.”

Easing himself onto the bed, Pete stretched out on his side. His arm hovered in the air above Trevor’s body.

“You can touch me, you know,” Trevor told him with an amused snort.

“Where doesn’t it hurt?”

“Good question.” Trevor circled his fingers in the air above the right side of his abdomen. “Just avoid where the bullet went in and I should be fine.”

Gingerly, Pete allowed his arm to rest diagonally across Trevor’s chest, his hand curled over his shoulder. He slid his body a little closer until his front pressed along Trevor’s side and rested his cheek on the pillow, his face buried against Trevor’s neck.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Trevor sounded a little breathless.

Pete raised his head to check on him. “Sure?”

His smile was pained. “Except for not being able to do anything with that dick pressed against my hip…yeah, I’m sure.”

Pete lowered his face to Trevor’s neck again, trying to smell through the antiseptic hospital odor and the lingering traces of smoke to Trevor’s familiar scent. “By dick,” he asked, “do you mean the body part or me?”

“Body part.” Trevor’s laugh ended in a cough but it didn’t sound as painful as it had earlier. Pete kissed his neck.

“If you’re going to do that,” Trevor complained, “do it right.”

Lifting his head, Pete gave him an offended glare. “I
always
do it right.”

“Please?”

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There was no way Pete could resist him. Ever so softly, he touched Trevor’s lips with his own, feeling the slick balm they’d plastered on to help the chapped skin. He pulled away and Trevor frowned.

“Tongue please.”

Pete grinned. “Anything for the patient,” he said piously, lowering his mouth to Trevor’s. This time, he kissed him a little harder. Trevor groaned and Pete jerked his head back.

“Did I hurt you?”

His eyes narrowing to slits, Trevor growled, “No, but if you don’t fucking kiss me, I’ll hurt
you
.”

Staring at the familiar sulky twist to Trevor’s mouth, Pete felt as if the bed was falling out from under him. Instead of kissing him, Pete buried his face back into Trevor’s neck and fought back the remembered terror.

“Pete?” Trevor’s hand stroked his head. “What’s wrong, Petey?”

“Thought you were dead,” he said against Trevor’s skin. “Nice protector I am.”

“Don’t turn this into a fucking pity-fest,” Trevor told him sharply. “It was Harold and Abby—they’re the bad guys here. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault.”

The mention of Trevor’s father brought Pete’s head up. “Your father,” he began and then didn’t say anything more. There were so many possible endings to that sentence but none of them expressed what Pete was feeling. “I’m sorry.”

Trevor’s skin tightened over his cheekbones and a muscle flickered in his jaw as he stared at the ceiling. “I’m not.”

“For you, I mean,” Pete clarified awkwardly. “Even though he was a terrible father, he was yours. Are you…?” Once again, he didn’t know how to finish.

“I’m fine,” Trevor bit out. “Why are we fucking talking? Can’t you just kiss me again?”

“You don’t seem fine,” Pete told him. “It’s okay to feel…whatever.”

“Thanks for your permission,” Trevor said sarcastically. “You know what? I’m kind of tired. I’d rather not talk or kiss anymore, okay?”

“Sure.” Pete told his body to withdraw, to remove himself from this situation. Trevor had just asked him to leave, so why couldn’t he force his limbs to move? “If I’m quiet and don’t kiss you, do you mind if I stay here?”

“Here in bed?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah.” He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. “Sorry, stupid idea. I’ll get up.”

“No.” Trevor grabbed his arm. “It’s okay. Stay.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

They stayed like that, pressed against each other, until Rhodes and Wash returned. 178

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* * * * *

It was dim in the room when Trevor woke up again. He turned his head to see Pete slouched in the same chair next to his bed. It appeared as if he’d moved in. Although Pete’s eyes were closed, Trevor could tell he wasn’t asleep.

“You’re still here?” he asked, regretting the irritation that spiked his words. He wasn’t annoyed to see Pete. He actually wished he were strong enough to yank the man into bed with him.

Pete looked at him a little warily. “That okay?”

“Yeah,” Trevor muttered, not meeting his eyes.

“How’re you feeling?”

Scowling at the ceiling, Trevor snapped, “Like I want to shoot the next person who asks how I’m feeling.”

“Okay.” There was silence and then Pete spoke again. “You want me to go?”

“No.” The word was out more urgently than Trevor’s pride would’ve preferred.

“I’ll stay then.”

“Why are you in the chair?” Trevor grumped.

Pete sighed. “I thought you said you wanted me to stay.”

“No,” he snapped. “Why aren’t you in bed with me?”

“Oh.” Pete sounded a lot happier now. “Night nurse Melia kicked me out. Want me to risk her wrath and climb back in with you?”

“Well, duh.” Trevor sounded so sullen, even to himself, he was embarrassed.

“Sorry.”

Pete slid into bed next to him, his warmth pressed against Trevor’s side like a huge heating pad. “For what?”

“For acting like such a baby,” Trevor explained. “I feel like shit.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pete’s hand stroked a strand of hair away from his face with such gentleness, Trevor felt tears scratch the back of his throat. “Want me to call the nurse and get you some more drugs?”

“No.” Trevor snagged a handful of Pete’s shirt. “I don’t want you to get kicked back to the chair.”

“Tell me when it gets too bad, okay?”

Trevor nodded, his fingers tightening around his fistful of shirt. He turned his face into Pete’s shoulder.

“Aw, baby,” Pete murmured, cupping the back of Trevor’s head. “I wish I could switch with you.”

With a short laugh, Trevor asked, “You want a bullet hole?”

“If you wouldn’t have to have one, then sure.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

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Pete kissed the side of his head. “Why not?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Trevor explained, “Because I’m trying to hold it together here and you telling me fucked-up things like that doesn’t help, okay?”

“You don’t have to hold it together, Trev.” Pete kissed him again, his mouth lingering this time. “It’s two a.m. and you’ve been shot and burned and had a garage fall on your head, plus your dad died. If anyone has the right to lose his shit, it’s you.”

“He wasn’t any kind of dad,” Trevor protested. “Up until he died, he was trying to kill me. I should be happy he’s gone.”

Pete just made a noncommittal sound and stroked his hair.

“I mean, here I am with a bullet
he
put in me,” Trevor went on. “If he’d managed to kill me,
he
wouldn’t be sad. He’d be happy he’d gotten rid of the only witness to Shep’s murder.”

“Are you sad?” Pete asked him.

“Fuck no.” He pressed his face so hard against Pete’s shoulder it hurt. “I mean, what kind of weak asshole would that make me?”

“No kind of weak asshole.” Pete inched even closer, until it felt as if his warmth surrounded Trevor. “You can’t help how you feel.”

Pulling back, Trevor glared at him. “Yes, I can. He can’t make me feel anything anymore. He’s lost the fucking right!”

As he tucked Trevor’s head back against him, Pete said mildly, “If you feel something, you feel something. Can’t just decide not to ’cause you’re pissed off.”

“Well, I did,” Trevor insisted, his mouth in a hard line. “I decided years ago not to ever let him hurt me again. It’s bad enough the bastard shot me. I’m not going to fucking cry over him too.”

“Okay,” Pete soothed and Trevor jerked back, scowling at him. The movement set off reverberations of pain through his side but he ignored it.

“I’m not.”

Pete just looked at him.

Unable to hold that steady gaze, Trevor buried his face against Pete’s shoulder again. “I’m sick of talking about this. Tell me about yours.”

“My father?” Pete sounded amused. “What is this, therapy time?”

“C’mon, Pete,” Trevor urged. “Distract me.”

“Fine,” he agreed grudgingly. “For you. What do you want to know?”

“What’s he like?”

Pete’s hand found Trevor’s head again and stroked in a soft, even rhythm that was almost hypnotic. Trevor closed his eyes. “He’s big. When I was a kid, I thought he could fix anything.” He laughed softly. “Remember how I told you I worked for him through high school?”

“Yeah,” Trevor murmured, lulled by the deep voice and caressing hand. 180

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“He rode my ass.” Pete didn’t sound angry though. He sounded fond—and a little sad. “He was so worried the other guys would think he was favoring me, he went the other direction. Any little screwup on my part and he acted like I’d brought down the entire building.”

“That must’ve sucked,” Trevor said.

“Nah,” Pete told him. “I actually missed it after…”

“After what?” Trevor asked when Pete trailed off.

“I came out.”

Indignation brought Trevor’s head up. “He fired you?”

Pete was quiet for a few seconds. “Not really. He seemed to take the news okay but he was…different after that. Separate.”

“Conditional love.” He pressed a kiss against Pete’s shoulder.

“Exactly. I could tell he didn’t want me working there. He said he didn’t want me to have to hear the jokes—as if a construction site was the only place you’d run into gay bashers. I think he was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” Trevor slid a couple fingers beneath the hem of Pete’s shirt so he could touch the skin of his stomach. “Did he think you’d wear a rainbow t-shirt and sparkly tiara to work?”

Pete didn’t laugh. “I think he thought everyone could tell.”

“Please,” Trevor scoffed. “You’re the butch-iest guy I know, ’cept for Rhodes. Well, you probably tie with Rhodes.”

“Rhodes had to hold me back when Abby confessed she’d started the fire,” Pete admitted.

Trevor stroked the backs of his fingers against Pete’s hard stomach. “My avenger.”

“Then he hugged me and I hyperventilated.”

With a snort, Trevor said, “Yeah, he does that to people.”

There was a tap on the door and then it swung open.

“Officer Giordano!” Night nurse Melia snapped and he jumped up, shaking the bed a little as he went. Trevor bit back a groan, knowing his pain wouldn’t help Pete’s case with Melia.

“Yes ma’am?” Pete asked innocently, as if he hadn’t been snuggled in next to her patient.

She eyed him balefully. “What are you doing in this room?”

“I’m here to protect Trevor, ma’am.”

Trevor tried very hard not to snort. He’d been wondering how Pete had been getting around visiting-hour rules.

“Not in his bed, you’re not,” Melia told him. “You can protect him by sitting outside his door.” She pointed.

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Panic bubbled in Trevor’s stomach. “Can he stay ’til I fall asleep?” he asked before he caught himself and immediately flushed. How old was he? Six? Besides, there was nothing to be afraid of anymore—everyone who wanted to hurt him was either dead or locked up. “Sorry,” he muttered, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. He was becoming much too familiar with that ceiling. Maybe he should put a poster up there—the one with the kitten that read “Hang in there!” He snorted.

“Fine,” Melia conceded and Trevor looked at her in surprise. Pete smiled at her. “Thank you, Nurse Melia.”