Max and the Prince (11 page)

“No one ever sympathized, you know. Not with losing a friend
in war or my mum and dad not being around or the crash that meant I lost a
career. Don’t get me wrong, people were sympathetic, but I was nothing
different, you know? Other kids in the foster system had lost their families, I
wasn’t unique. Other men have lost their careers for one reason or another in
war. And so many of us lost friends out there, plus some back here when the
horrors became too much. But you said you understood, that Dave was a person.
That’s different. So thank you.”

Lucien was choked up. Max was speaking from the heart, and
Lucien pressed a quick kiss to the nearest skin he could find, a small patch of
chest. He wanted to share something of himself, maybe about his brother.

“Everyone said it was a release for Seb when he died. That
he’d gone to a better place, that he wouldn’t be in pain anymore. The only one
that ever spoke to me about it was my tutor—you remember I mentioned him, Bryce—he
said I was right to grieve, that I would become a better person if I could
learn to grieve.”

“He was right.”

“No one else said that to me, I was just the brother. But they
would speak to my parents who had long before come to terms with their grief
and put it all in the right boxes. So yeah, I get when everyone gives you the
platitudes or doesn’t expect you to grieve, like it isn’t your right.”

“Grieving is a good thing.”

“Unless it descends into losing nights at the bottom of a
bottle and attempting to have sex with a married man.”

“Well, there is that,” Max said on a smile. He hugged Lucien
a little closer. “You know what we are?”

“Gorgeous, sexy twentysomethings tired from sex?” Lucien
teased.

“That. But also we’re complicated humans with all the
grieving and the loving and the needs and all those things that maybe others
think we don’t have. And sometimes we just need people to tell us they
understand.”

“Wow,” Lucien said. He kissed that same piece of chest, this
time moving a little closer to a nipple. “That is profound.” He touched his
tongue to Max’s nipple, and quickly Lucien had Max pinned beneath him. “Tell me
about the scar on your back.”

 “Part of the accident.”

“I don’t have anything as dramatic as that in my past.”

“Trust me, you don’t want it.” Max smiled up at him and
Lucien’s chest clenched. To have come so close to not even meeting a man who
had come to mean so much to him was impossible to contemplate. He loved Max, and
more than his next breath, he wanted Max forever. For days he’d wanted to say
the word, but he’d promised he’d leave it until after this was done. But the
emotion wouldn’t stay inside.

“I love you,” he said.

Max’s eyes widened. “What?”

Lucien leaned on his elbows and cradled Max’s face. “For
however long I have you here, I love you.”

Max’s eyes widened and he swallowed before talking. “I don’t
know what to say,” he finally admitted.

Lucien ignored a twinge of disappointment. He realized that Max
might not feel the same and that was okay. “Nothing. Don’t say anything.”

Instead of talking, they kissed, and when they were sleepy,
Lucien burrowed deep into Max’s hold. He wasn’t worried that Max couldn’t say
the L word back, what Max thought didn’t define what Lucien felt.

He’d never been so safe. And he’d never been in love before
this.

Both of those things were wonderful.

Lucien had been dreaming about Seb when the phone broke
through his dreams. The insistent ringtone had him near throwing the damn thing
across the room. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but instinct made
him answer even as Max woke and sat up in bed.

“Hello?”

“Luke, I’m at the police station. Can you come get me?”

Jamie?
Lucien shook his head, attempting to clear it.
“What?”

“They said I could go home, but they won’t let me go on my
own.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Lucien promised. Then he realized he
didn’t even know where the station was, although it was too late to ask because
Jamie rang off.

“What happened? Who was it?” Max demanded.

Lucien closed his eyes briefly, trying to pull himself back
to the here and now and away from the dreams.
Nothing like a middle of the
night call to stop your wallowing.
“Jamie. He’s been arrested, I think, or
something. He’s at the police station.”

Max lay back with an exaggerated sigh. “Might be a good
thing,” he said.

Lucien got out of bed. “I have to go.” He dressed and added
several layers. Cardiff at five a.m. in February was going to be cold.

Max sat up. “You can’t go now. It’s the middle of the
fucking night.”

Lucien winced at the horror and censure in Max’s voice, but
he was determined to do right by the only friend he had. “He needs me, Max.”

“He needs a fix,” Max muttered under his breath.

“He’s my friend.”

“He’s not a friend, he’s a user—”

Lucien went on the defensive immediately. Something about
Max’s tone stole the afterglow of cuddles and affection and left a dark hole. “He’s
a
friend
who’s in trouble.”

“Lucien, he’s just a housemate.”

Lucien put on another sweatshirt and socks. “I’ll go on my
own, then.”

Max cursed and rolled up and out of bed, yanking at his
clothes until he was dressed. “When we get there, I
will
kill him.”

Lucien stopped Max at the door with a hand on his arm.
“Thank you.”

Max looked at Lucien and something softened in his stern, pissed-off
features. “I’m going because I’m looking out for you, but I will kill him,” Max
grumped, though he sounded less pissed and more concerned now.

They checked the address for the police station, which was
actually only a fifteen-minute walk and not worth using Max’s car for. They spent
most of the walk in silence, although at least they were hand in hand, which gave
Lucien a nice warm feeling.

When they reached the police station, Max held Lucien back.
Gone was the lover, the man with the smile, and in his place was the man Lucien
had met back at BI on that first day. Max carried himself with confidence and
focus.

“Let me do the talking,” he advised.

Lucien nodded. He could handle that. The whole incident at
the pool with the police making inquiries had been hard enough, to get involved
with the police again wasn’t something he relished.

Cardiff Central Police Station was a large building, lit up
in the darkness but quiet on the inside. They made themselves known to the desk
clerk, who ushered them to a seating area and told them to wait. Five minutes
passed and another man joined them in the seating area. He was wearing a suit,
cell phone in hand, and he had the kind of arrogance than Lucien hated in other
people. He pointedly stared at Lucien and Max and crossed one leg over his knee
like sitting in a police station meant nothing to him. Shocking white-blond
hair was artfully tousled, and there was something about him that Lucien recognized.

“I think I’ve seen him before,” he whispered to Max. “Around
the house.”

For his part Max was stonily silent, and even when Lucien talked
to him, he didn’t engage. There was something different about him: he was on
the edge of his seat, his muscles tensed, his knuckles white with the grip he
had on the edges of the chair. He was leashed violence and Lucien found himself
shuffling away a little. This was not a good situation.

“Jamie’s coming with us,” Max said firmly. Lucien glanced at
him. Who was he talking to?

The blond pocketed his cell. “We’ll see,” he said.

“You know him?” Lucien asked.

Max said nothing and Lucien didn’t push. Instead all three
of them sat silently, and they all looked up when Jamie was led to the waiting
room. The cop who was with him didn’t stay. Blond guy stood, Max just as
quickly on his feet. Jamie stepped back from them both, then looked around to
see Lucien.

“Luke, thank you for coming,” he said. His voice sounded
wrong, forced and tiny, nervous and shaky.

Lucien muscled past Max, who let him, and grasped Jamie by
the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

All four of them moved out of the station and into the brisk
cold air, their breaths puffing into small clouds of white. Whether by accident
or design, they ended up in the shadows of the alley by the station.

“Where’s my money?” blond guy snapped immediately when they stopped
walking.

“I don’t have it,” Jamie said.

Blond guy moved into his space, right up in his face, and
snarled, “You think I believe that?” He grabbed Jamie’s jacket and yanked him
closer.

Lucien stepped between them immediately. “Now, wait a
minute, I don’t know who you are—”

“Lennox, his name is Charles Lennox,” Jamie said.

Max insinuated himself between blond guy—Lennox—and Lucien.
“And he’s leaving. Now.”

Lennox stepped back and brushed imaginary dirt from his
jacket before straightening his cuffs. “Not without my money.”

“I don’t have any more,” Jamie near whimpered.

Lennox dug his hand in his pocket and Lucien had never seen
Max move so fast. Maybe Max thought he was armed, maybe it was something else,
but seeing Lennox on his knees in the dirty alley with his hand twisted up
behind him was unexpected. Max applied pressure, and Lennox had to lean forward
a little to counteract the pull.

“You need to leave,” Max said low and growly and right up
close to Lennox’s ear. “You’re a fucking leech with these students and it stops
tonight.”

Jamie moved closer to Lucien. “What the hell?” he whispered.

Lucien wished he knew what to say. The way Max put the guy
on his knees with his arm brutally twisted and the look of complete calm on
Max’s expression had Lucien seeing a very different side of him. This was Max
the pilot, the trained soldier, the man who’d seen war. This was the side of
Max that had never touched Lucien’s world.

“Get off me, you fucking bastard,” Lennox swore. Then he
whimpered as Max applied just a little more pressure.

Max leaned in. “I see you around Jamie, talking to him,
threatening him, even in the same fucking town as him, I will take you down. Do
we have an understanding?”

“Fuck you—”

“Do. We. Have. An. Understanding?”

More pressure was applied and Lennox let out a yelp of pain.
Lucien stepped forward. He didn’t know why. What was he going to do? Stop Max,
who had clearly had judged this Lennox as a potential threat, or ask what the
hell was going on?

“Okay, fucking hell, okay,” Lennox snapped.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll… fuck… I’ll leave Jamie alone.”

Max released the hold and Lennox toppled away, straight into
a puddle of something that was probably rain but smelled like it might be
something else. Soaked from the knees down, Lennox stumbled to stand, then
launched himself at Max. Lucien stepped forward, but didn’t need to. Max had Lennox
in a choke hold up against the wall of a house and held him there.

“You want to fuck with me?” Max asked, deceptively calm.

Lennox shook his head, and Max released his hold.

“What about my money? He owes me,” Lennox whined.

“How much?” Max asked.

Avarice dripped from Lennox’s words. “It was a lot of pills.
Two thousand.”

Max reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Take
this and go.”

Lennox looked at the crumpled ten-pound note and his
expression blanked. Slowly he pulled himself tall.

“I will get my money.”

“Not through me you won’t,” Max said. His tone was flat and
he wasn’t brooking any argument.

Lennox turned his attention to Jamie; evidently he was more
stupid than Lucien thought. Jamie shrunk back a little, and Lucien placed a
reassuring hand on his arm. He didn’t know everything, but he was putting two
and two together and what he was coming up with wasn’t good. He’d seen Jamie
pop pills, but was Jamie dealing? Jamie was a bit of a flake, but he worked
hard at his subjects. Lucien didn’t know him that well… but…

“We’re not done, Jamie boy,” Lennox said. When Max tensed, Lennox
walked away, down the alley and out of sight.

“Thank you,” Jamie said. He was talking to Max, but Max just
stared at him stonily.

“Home. Now,” he snapped. Then he grabbed Lucien’s hand and
yanked him out to the well-lit area. Jamie followed at a subdued distance, and no
one said a word until they were back in the house. Jamie slumped onto his
crappy sofa and buried his head in his hands.

Max paced for a short while, then went into the small
kitchen area and crashed and banged getting coffee into mugs. He was clearly
pissed, and Jamie was distraught.

“Enough,” Lucien shouted loudly over the noise in the
kitchen. Max stopped and looked at him. “Someone talk to me and tell me what
the hell is going on.”

“Ask Jamie,” Max said. At least he’d stopped crashing around
the kitchen. “Ask him what he’s been doing. Ask him why the hell he thought it
was a good idea to bring trouble to your front door.”

Evidently Max had a lot to say.

“Jamie?” Lucien prompted.

“Lennox is my dealer,” Jamie said. He looked straight at
Lucien as he spoke, and his expression was mutinous for a moment, daring Lucien
to say anything. Then that defensive expression crumpled, and he was suddenly
just
Jamie
.

“Talk to me,” Lucien said.

“I’m an addict, okay? I use pain pills, and I buy them from
Lennox. I’m not going to bore you with the details.” He ran a hand through his
short dark hair, then gripped it tight.

“I know you’re addicted,” Lucien said. He settled himself on
the other end of the sofa and turned slightly to face Jamie. “Why not tell me
about it all?”

“Don’t be naïve. If you thinking talking this out—”

“Don’t do that,” Lucien interrupted. “Tell me how it started.”

“Fucking hell, why would you want to know about that?” Jamie
asked. “You want to hear that I walked away from a car crash, but that my fifteen-year-old
girlfriend and my best friend since I was two didn’t? You want to hear that I
was hurt so badly that I lived on medication? Or that I never found my way out from
that dark place where the meds made everything right? That now I’m scared?”
Jamie was openly crying now, and Lucien hated that he’d asked.

Lucien had never seen this Jamie, the quiet, broken one. Just
the way he’d said he was scared was heartbreaking.

He shuffled a little closer and placed a hand on Jamie’s
knee. “Do you want to find a way out?”

Jamie glanced at him briefly, and for a second there was
hope there. Then nothing.

“Don’t fucking patronize me.”

“I wasn’t patronizing, but if I can help—”

“I’m going to bed,” Jamie interrupted. “Thank you, both of
you.” Then he brushed aside Lucien’s hand and left the small sitting room. Max
very pointedly looked at Lucien, but Lucien bristled with irritation. Max was
judging the whole thing.

“What?” Lucien snapped.

“Don’t be naïve,” Max began. “He’s a kid who needs help, and
you’re not qualified for that.”

“Is it just him or all addicts that you hate?”

Max placed his coffee on the table. “I understand addiction
better than you imagine. I’ve seen it in my friends who left part of themselves
back in the theater of war. And no, I don’t hate him, hell, Lucien, I don’t
know him, but he’s putting you in danger and it’s my job to keep you safe. That’s
all.”

“Then don’t call me naïve for wanting to help.”

“Lucien—”

“Jesus, Max, call me Luke when Jamie’s here.”

Lucien left with a muttered good-night. He wasn’t angry, but
he wanted Max to at least acknowledge that, waste-of-space royal or not, there
was maybe a chance Lucien could help Jamie. He closed his door and got back
into the bed that only a few hours earlier had been a warm and comforting
place. He’d only just pulled the covers up and over himself when Max came into
the room. Neither of them said anything at first, Max stripping and climbing
into the bed and spooning him from behind.

“I don’t think you’re naïve,” Max admitted. “I admire you for
wanting to help.”

“But you think he’s bringing danger to my door.”

Max sighed. “Mostly. And if I’m really honest, I don’t see
that he’s in a place where he wants to admit he needs help. You saw that just
now.”

“I’ll talk to him in the morning, well later in the morning,
anyway.”

Max pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. “That’s a good
idea.”

Lucien fell asleep considering ways of helping Jamie and quite
forgot his dreams that figured Seb so clearly until suddenly they were there
again. They’d been so vivid it was almost like Seb was here with him. His
little brother was gone but he still haunted Lucien’s nights.

He snuggled back against Max and willed himself to sleep.
Dawn was already lightening the room and part of him hoped he slept and dreamed
of Seb all over again.