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Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

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BOOK: Jacob's Ladder
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Jeez
…fucking mess with me.”

“I"m so, so sorry, man. I didn"t mean… I just wanted to lighten the mood.” Cam was silent as he led me to the parking lot.

“I"m really sorry.”

“It"s been a long day. I guess I"m tired.”

“You can go home without me and sleep. The nurses said that they have Daniel sedated and he"s likely to be out for a while. I could go back to my motel room,” I offered.

St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

143

“You shouldn"t be alone right now. You need some food, Yasha, and someone to look out for you.”

“Because you"re normally such a mother hen.”

“Because I care,” Cam said, and I noticed his gaze strayed back toward the hospital. “Because I want to help.”

“Thanks, man.” I put an arm out when we got to the truck, and let him help me up. He could probably bench-press my weight anyway, and I wasn"t feeling very strong. I didn"t have pain meds on board, but I felt weak and shaky anyway.

We drove the short way to his place in silence. It was one of the apartment buildings I"d noticed by the beach—small buildings, three up and three down on either side. They would normally be built around a courtyard, but this one had a gazebo that sheltered a hot tub. I imagined the number of hook-ups Cam brought here, and hoped they chlorinated early and often.

“I"ll get you something to eat, and then we can come down here.”

“I don"t have swim trunks.”

“Wear your boxers. No one cares. I"m sure I have something that will fit you after.”

I laughed. “Because between now and then I"ll grow a foot and gain eighty pounds?”

“Because people leave shit here all the time,” Cam countered. He unlocked his door, and I followed him inside. Nothing could have prepared me for the shock of Cam"s small and tidy apartment.

I don"t really know what I expected. Maybe…early Gold"s Gym with a dash of
Rocky
and possibly, maybe, a reptile habitat. A turtle he could talk to. Something that would hibernate half the year and give him no trouble. Something for which he could leave lettuce and apple peels out during the rest of the year.

But
no
. Cam"s living room was a soothing, neutral gray-green with white crown molding. He had art on the walls, and it wasn"t there simply because it matched his tan leather couch or his subtly plaid green and tan recliners. It was black-and-white photographs by Ansel Adams and interesting portraits of legendary jazz musicians. He had throw pillows and a muted, faded-looking area rug that covered his light oak hardwood floors. And it felt like heaven when I took off my shoes—as he did in the vestibule—and stepped on it in my sock feet. There were shiny living plants and pictures of him and his friends from the department. A few of the local PD. Nobody who looked like family. A beautiful spotted cat rubbed up against his legs, and he picked it up as gently as if it were a baby, and rubbed his face in its fur.

“What the hell kind of cat is that?” I peered at the thing. It looked like a tiny wild leopard or something. It seemed as happy to see him as a puppy would have been.

“It"s an ocicat. It"s a domestic breed that"s spotted like a wildcat. I pulled her out of a fire when she was a kitten. She has a scar, see?” 144

Z. A. Maxfield

I noticed a place on her hind leg where her fur was disrupted, and reached out to stroke her soft head. “Oh, poor baby.”

“The house belonged to a breeder, and we got them all out safely, but Spot here got singed. They get thousands of dollars for these cats, but because she was scarred, she can"t be shown or anything. They let me keep her. She"s like a dog really. So I called her Spot.”

“I see,” I said.
Yeah, right. That, my friend, is a cat.

“You don"t believe me.”

“Not really. She looks a lot like a cat to me.” Cam smiled and set her down on the floor. He peered around one of the recliners and found a crinkly little ball.

“Go get it, Spot.” He threw the ball so it sailed down the hall toward what I presumed were bedrooms, and the cat fairly flew after it. She brought it back and dropped the ball at his feet. “You were saying?”

“Nothing, man. I have never seen a cat do that.”

“Spot"s special.” Cam said, “Aren"t you, baby girl?” He cooed some more, uncharacteristically unselfconscious as he herded me toward a spacious and colorful kitchen with the same beige-colored walls and a beige-and-white-checkered tile floor. He had more photographs on the walls back there, mostly of children, a lot of whom were climbing play equipment, and I recognized some of the local law-enforcement and fire-department personnel with them. He brought me a beer and jerked a chin at a particularly fun-looking picture of some kids in a pie-eating contest.

“That"s the local park. Every Fourth of July there"s a big picnic, and last year—thanks to Mary Catherine—we had a pie-eating contest. You should have seen those kids. They were so happy.”

“I"ll bet it was something.”

“Are you going to move here?” Cam asked as he moved back to the refrigerator and took out cold cuts and condiments, lettuce and tomato. “Sandwiches okay?”

“Fabulous. You have no idea.” I was salivating just looking at the food. Until that moment I hadn"t realized how hungry I was. “I plan to move here. I like St.

Nacho"s.”

“It gets to you, doesn"t it?” Cam agreed and took a brief swig of his beer before he grabbed some bread and started assembling a meal. “You start to think you"ll find answers here.”

I simply stared at Cam as he expertly cut our sandwiches in fourths and served them with the points up like in a restaurant. He put some chips in the center and a pickle on each plate.

“What?” His hands slowed when he realized I was gaping.

“You are two different people,” I said.

He grinned. “I get that a lot. Do you mind if I talk freely?” St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

145

“No, of course not.”

“JT is telling his dad he has feelings for you today.” I felt my beer kick in. Or maybe it was just nerves, but I sat in one of the tall kitchen chairs at the counter because my knees felt a little unsteady. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cam took a swig of his beer. “I know Carl, and I don"t think it"s going to be a problem. But I know JT too. I saw him kiss you in front of everybody. That was cool, but he"s been hiding who he is a long time.”

“I know.” I colored. I felt it creep from my chest to my neck, and it wasn"t from the beer.

“He"s never been happy about how he feels about men. It"s a feeling I have. But I want you to be careful with your heart. I"m not sure he"s someone you can trust it with. Your dick? Sure. But hold on to your heart for a while.” I watched Cam take a huge, satisfied bite of his sandwich. Turkey, ham, swiss.

I don"t know what all he put on there. It was about four inches thick, and his eyes rolled back into his head when he chewed. He swallowed and then broke a piece off what was left for Spot, who climbed up onto the chair next to mine, gazing at him like he was the last bird in North America. Spot apparently had no trouble with the idea of being hand-fed by Cam, any more than I would have had, I guess, if I had never met JT.

Cam peered at me. “Okay?”

I shook my head. I was so tired. “Do you think I could just sleep on the couch for a bit?

“How about you take a quick shower while I change the sheets? Then you can sleep on the bed. It"s big enough for both of us.” He rolled his eyes when I lifted my gaze to his. “I"ll leave you alone.”

I wondered how many people he"d said that to. “I"m too tired to stop you if you don"t.”

“And that"s precisely why you can count on me to keep my distance. I never go after the wounded gazelle except to bring it to safety.”

“You like a little fight, huh?”

“I like a lot of fight actually.” He blinked a little. “Usually.”

“Let"s go.” I put the sandwich down after only eating half of it. “I would like to go back to the hospital tonight before visiting hours are over.”

“That"s fine. If we get some shut-eye, I"ll run you back there.”

“Thanks, Cam.” I helped him wrap my sandwich for later. “You"re a really, really good guy.”

“That"s what I tell everyone,” Cam said. “Towels are in the cupboard in the hall. There"s new razors and toothbrushes in the top drawer next to the sink.”

“You"re well prepared.”

Cam shrugged those big shoulders. “Boy Scout.”

146

Z. A. Maxfield

“I"ll bet.” I headed for the cupboard he"d pointed out, and found a stack of fresh, fluffy white towels. “Do you realize that you"re the most domestic damned person I"ve ever met?”

“That has been said before.” He blushed. “Firefighters are often highly organized and motivated to keep things neat.

I stuck my head back around. “The only person I"ve ever met who is this domestic is my sister-in-law. She"s driven. She makes Martha Stewart look laid-back.”

“Sister-in-law?”

“Yeah. Daniel"s wife, BreeAnna.”

Cam stood like a statue in the hallway. “Did you notify her? Was she at the hospital?”

I turned before I closed the bathroom door behind me. “I left a message at their house. They"re going through a divorce. Things got messy recently, and Dan said she might not care enough to come.”

“I see.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? They"ve been married for a long time, and it hit the skids. She was never really warm and fuzzy.” I turned and entered the bathroom, and as I closed the door behind me, I thought I heard Cam talking to the cat.

“People suck, don"t they?”

St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

147

Chapter Twenty-three

If I"d expected JT to come and claim me wearing a gay-pride T-shirt and rainbow suspenders, I would have been disappointed. As it was, Cam and I had a two-hour nap and hot-tubbed for a soothing hour or so before he took me back to my motel room. I felt like an idiot, a teen being driven back from a youthful indiscretion with my zipper chafing my privates and wet boxers in a plastic Ziploc bag and nothing to show for it but a boyfriend I hadn"t seen since he"d asked me to trust him.

I think Cam sensed my discomfort, because after he turned off the engine, he sat with me for a silent minute, just watching my face.

“Thanks for everything, Cam,” I said finally. “Especially for the way you took care of Dan. I"ll never forget it.”

“It"s just my job.”

I half expected him to say,
Aw, shucks
. “You ought to hear how much it means to the people you do it for at least.”

“Thanks.”

I looked around and pulled on the handle of his SUV to let myself out. “My duffel was in Dan"s Lexus.”

“Someone will let you know where it"s been towed, and you can get your things from it.”

I"d heard horror stories from others about theft from those impound yards. “If it"s still there.”

“Did you have high-ticket items in the trunk? Audio equipment? Electronics?”

“No. You gave me my laptop case.” I patted the item in question. “Just clothes.”

“You"re probably fine, then. Don"t worry.”

“I"m not worried. There"s nothing in there I can"t replace at the thrift store.” I stood leaning into his car. “It was just clothes.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I thought I"d change and then head back to the hospital.” I glanced around. “I guess I thought—”

“I"ll wait here and give you a ride. Hop to it. I"m going back on shift, and I"ve only had two hours" sleep.”

“Okay, thanks again, Cam.”

148

Z. A. Maxfield

“You"re welcome.” He waited in the car while I hurried into my motel room and changed. The phone was the kind that had a button indicating voice-mail messages, but nothing was lit. I picked up a jacket and shoved my feet back into my Vans and headed back out the door to find Cam talking with Carl.

“Hi, Yasha,” Carl said. “Helluva thing that was last night. I"m so glad you and your brother are okay. How long do they think he"ll be in the hospital?”

“I don"t know yet. They hadn"t finished consulting about his arm. He"s going to need a specialist.”

“I was sorry to hear he"d been hurt. Cam was just telling me about that. Every so often we get a major pileup in the fog. I wish someone would invent something to prevent that.”

“I think some cars have a sensor. Maybe they"ll start coming with radar.”

“I"m still waiting for the flying car they promised me.” Carl"s eyes didn"t seem to be sparkling like they normally did, but other than that his behavior was completely normal. I wondered whether JT had talked to him. I didn"t seem to matter, because we said all the polite things, and then I got into Cam"s SUV and we headed off.

“That might have been awkward,” I said. “But it didn"t seem to be.” Cam shrugged.

“You don"t think much of JT.”

“I didn"t say that.” Cam didn"t look at me.

“You don"t have to. It"s pretty obvious by what you"re not saying.” Cam rolled those big shoulders. “Look. It"s never been any of my business, but I don"t have a lot of respect for a guy who uses girls like he does, then goes all

„undercover lover" with guys.”

I sighed. I didn"t either for that matter. “You"re right of course. I need to focus on Dan right now anyway. He was talking about getting a place for the two of us here.”

“Sounds good. You want me to look around?”

“I thought I"d put Ken Ashton on that, since he seems to be real-estate savvy.

Ordinarily I"d let my brother do that, but he"s—”

“You should just let your brother get better.”

Surprised, I looked over to where he clutched the steering wheel with both hands. “I will. Of course I will.”

“He"s going to be in pain. And he"s going to need to learn to do things with his left hand that he"s used to doing with his right.”

“I know.”

“His wife will probably want to look after him if he"s really injured, huh? Don"t you think? She"ll probably want be there for him, won"t she?”
No way
. Was Cam sweet on my brother? “Cam—” St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

149

“At any rate there"s probably going to be a line of chicks a mile long at your door bringing you soup and shit.”

BOOK: Jacob's Ladder
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