Fight (27 page)

Nathan thought it’d be a little tough for someone who looked and acted like Hellabeth to pull a disappearing act, but Fury knew her better than Nathan. “What about you, though?” Nathan asked.

“I’m just a fighter. Not involved in anythin’. Don’t know nothin’. Mostly, I been keepin’ away from Dennis and everythin’ to do with him as much as I can. Layin’ low.”

“No, I mean, if she goes into witsec, you won’t get to see her again.”

“It might be a while, yeah.”

Nathan chewed his tongue. If he was told tomorrow that Laura and Greg were going to be hauled out of his life, he’d be beside himself. Even if it was Laura and Paul, he’d still be pissed off. Whatever the rest of the world thought, whatever they’d done to him or at his expense, those were Nathan’s people. He’d miss them if they weren’t there.

A warm hand closed over Nathan’s. “I got Matt,” Fury said quietly, and Nathan was reminded that if he could read Fury’s body language, then Nathan’s was not a mystery to Fury either. “I got the counselin’, the church, and I hope I got you.”

Nathan nodded because words were impossible. Fury had slipped so seamlessly into Nathan’s life over the last few months that he hadn’t really thought about what any of it meant. As long as Fury was around, there’d been no more crazy nights where he wanted to drown in chemical overload, and it’d been easier to cope with the bullshit he’d gotten himself into, but Nathan hadn’t thought a lot about how he saw Fury. About how he saw them together for a really, really long time, and it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder whether Fury would be on board with that plan or not. Nathan had simply known Fury would be. It was in Fury’s eyes every time he looked at Nathan… Three words that could change the world, and had changed his world already. Nathan was willing to run off at a second’s notice on an errand given by a dangerous man at the mercy of worse men, all in the name of what Fury meant to him.

“Hope,” Nathan whispered.

“Mmm?”

Nathan cleared his throat. “I hope Laura’s not at the front booth.”

“Laura?”

“Yeah. She lives in Dale Springs and works there too.”

“Huh,” Fury said. “Would she let us in?”

“Dunno, but I know the other guard too. His name’s Carl. I’ll figure something out.”

Fury settled in the seat. “Yeah, you could talk the devil into a vacation in heaven.”

Nathan threw a look at Fury and caught Fury grinning. “It’s all about the devil you know,” Nathan quipped.

“Yeah,” Fury agreed, solemn but still smiling. “Always.”

When Nathan got close to the community’s entrance, he slowed down, trying to catch a glimpse of who was on duty. The figure was tall but bulky, and Nathan muttered, “Thank God” when Carl leaned out of the brick booth. Nathan rolled down the window and came to a stop in front of the gate.

“Nate,” Carl said with a friendly smile. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Nathan said in his best public relations voice. “You got the booth tonight, huh?”

“Yeah. Your lovely fiancée is doing patrol, giving my old bones a rest. Over on the one-thousand block, I think, if you’re here to say hello.”

Nathan made a mental note to kiss Laura later for being a workaholic. Nathan grinned. “Hoping for a little more than hello, but I’ll make do with what I can get.”

Carl chuckled and waved a dismissive hand, and Nathan thought he was off the hook until Carl asked, “Who’s your friend?”

Nathan returned to squirming on the line. “Oh, this is Hale. We go to the same gym. His brother’s got a place in here.”

“Dennis Zimmerman,” Hale supplied.

“Zimmerman,” Carl echoed meditatively.

“Yeah,” Nathan said. “Dennis forgot something at home. Figure give Hale the ride, see Laura, everybody’s happy.”

Carl nodded, evidently satisfied. “Keep the peace, then, son. And just warning you?” Carl leaned closer. “Laura’s on the warpath about something. Has been.”

“Yeah,” Nathan said with a sympathetic tone. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to check on her.”

“Good man.” Carl hit a button, the metal bar lifted, and Nathan saluted Carl on his way through the gate.

“Smooth,” Fury complimented when they were clear.

“Got a face that everybody trusts.”

“Especially straight men.”

Nathan scratched his cheek with his middle finger. “Which way?”

Fury swatted Nathan’s hand. “Go right. He’s in four-oh-oh-seven.”

“Got it.”

“And Nate?”

“Mmm?”

“Hurry.”

Nathan bounced over speed bumps and rounded turns at speed. Instead of stand-alone townhomes or joined condos, this part of Dale Springs had what they called Villas stacked three high with storage slots on the ground level. Nathan parked in a handicap space, and Fury was out of the car before Nathan managed to shut off the engine. Nathan slammed the door and ran after Fury into a corridor between buildings and up a set of covered concrete stairs. Fury went left, stalked past four doors, and stopped in front of a beige one with silver numbers under the peephole.

It didn’t occur to Nathan until exactly that moment that getting to the complex was great and all, but it would do them jack-all good if they couldn’t get into Dennis’s place. But Fury merely pulled out a key ring, sifted through the mass of keys, and put one into the lock.

“Nice,” Nathan commented.

Fury was confused. “You think he’d call me or I’d come here if I didn’t have a way in?”

Nathan’s mouth opened and closed at least once before he found words. “Ah, er…no. Of course not.”

Fury gave Nathan a long look askance, and they stepped into Dennis’s darkened apartment. The air inside was barely warmer than it was outside, and Nathan burrowed deeper into his jacket.

“I can’t see shit,” Nathan said.

In answer, Fury clicked a penlight on his keychain. He arched an eyebrow at Nathan, and Nathan gave a little bow as though conceding that Fury was one well-prepared Boy Scout.

Nathan walked the path lit up by Fury’s narrow beam of light. The place was nice, with two front rooms, a hallway leading back to a kitchen, dining nook next to a bay window, and a living room. It probably would have been nicer with more furniture. Dennis had a couch, some cardboard boxes, a massive flat screen, and absolutely nothing else. The windows had blackout shades, and all of them were drawn. It smelled like the old, spare fridge that used to sit next to a lean-to that his father called a garage: stale, unwelcoming, faintly nauseating.

Off the living room was another hallway going right, and Fury took it. They walked into a bedroom with a mattress and box springs sitting on the floor. The sheets were dark green and rumpled, unmade since the last person or persons slept there. Nathan tried to picture Fury sprawled out and napping beneath the bank of windows and couldn’t. It didn’t sit right, and Nathan realized he was seeing a glimpse of Fury’s old life, pre-Nathan. If Laura was Nathan’s baggage, then this was Fury’s. It didn’t fit Fury anymore, and Nathan wondered how different he must be.

Fury went to the closet and pulled open the doors. He shoved aside some clothes and empty hangers and put his shoulder to the back wall, turning sideways. He tapped on the leftmost wall, concentrating.

“What are you doing?” Nathan asked.

“Lookin’ for the latch.” Fury cussed, shifted, and Nathan heard the click. A panel swung open, and Fury reached into darkness.

“What’s in there?” Nathan asked, trying to see over Fury’s shoulder.

“A bag, I think.” Fury jerked his chin in a silent command for Nathan to move, and Fury came out of the closet with a black duffel kept closed with a pair of luggage locks.

“That it?”

“Think so,” Fury said. “Ain’t nothin’ else in there.” He closed the panel.

“Is it heavy?”

“Kinda.”

“Not dripping bodily fluids, is it?”

Fury lifted the bag. “Not that I can see.”

“Well, okay, then.”

“Mmm.” Fury planted a kiss on Nathan’s lips, stepped around him, and stopped.

Laura stood in her security uniform, blocking their path with her arms crossed and holster undone. “Gentlemen,” she said.

“Hi, honey,” Nathan said, shirt plastered to his skin and pulse pounding at his temples.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in Dennis Zimmerman’s apartment?” Laura asked after a pregnant pause. “An apartment that has visitors maybe once a month at most, and they’ve never been you two, so far as I know.”

“Uh…” Nathan said, mind blanking as he tried not to panic outright.

“I know Dennis,” Fury said, sure and steady.

“Really?” Laura asked, eyes on Nathan.

“Yeah,” Fury said.

“What’s in the bag?” Laura asked.

“Dunno,” Fury replied.

“Think you ought to find out?”

“No,” Fury said.

Laura turned her flashlight on Fury. “Oh?” she asked. “Why not?”

Fury shrugged. “Not my bag. None of my business.”

Laura narrowed her eyes. “How’d you get in?”

“Used my key.”

“Why is he here?” Laura pointed at Nathan.

“Nathan gave me a ride.”

“How do you know Dennis?”

“We used to fuck.”

Laura made a disbelieving sound. “That’s not what you told Carl.”

Fury shifted his weight, and his voice was devoid of patience. “I don’t go ’round tellin’ everybody all my business,” he said, and cut Laura off before she could begin the next round of her third degree. “And neither do you, lady.”

“Nathan, who is this guy?” Laura demanded.

“I told you he’s…” Nathan shielded his eyes from Laura’s glaring flashlight. “Damn it, Laura, cut that shit out!”

“Then tell me the truth, Nathan.”

“Fine.” Nathan dropped his arm when the beam shied away and skittered across their feet. “Fury’s my boyfriend, and we’ve got a date with his ex, the drug lord. Excuse us.” Nathan pushed past them both, Fury’s heavy bootsteps right behind him.

“He’s your what?” Laura zipped by Nathan and Fury, and she walked backward, trying to slow them down.

“Boyfriend.”

“Here. In town.”

“Yep.”

“For how long?”

“Oh, weeks now. Months, I think.” They got to the front door, and Laura blocked it. Nathan motioned for her to get out of the way. “We have to run. I’ll call you.”

“Nathan!” Laura yelled.

Fury jumped, startled, and angled himself between Laura and Nathan. “I don’t like yellin’,” he said.

“Fury—” Nathan started.

“I don’t care what you like,” Laura retorted, brushing aside Fury and standing toe-to-toe with Nathan. “Think about what you’re doing. About where you are, what this looks like, and how well you know this guy.” Laura’s expression grew imploring. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Eager to get out of there as he was, reality slowed down, and Nathan had one of those surreal moments when he saw himself from an outside perspective. He was standing at night in a drug dealer’s apartment, fetching something out of a secret compartment, and his boyfriend knew where the dealer’s hidden latch was. His boyfriend, Fury of fire and fighting but also guts and truth. Nathan scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. He knew how Fury really was, forget what Fury looked like or had done. Nathan wasn’t scared at all, and that was sort of a shock. He also didn’t regret anything, and he wanted to stick around and find out what happened next. He wanted to help Fury out and hold Fury later, when whatever they had to do was done. So far, anything he’d done with Fury was better than waking up next to a dirty bar toilet or wrapped up with an underage high school kid who liked giving head, or, and Nathan wanted to laugh, but it was even better than sitting next to Laura at the head of an engagement party table. Shit, at least Nathan knew exactly why he was here, and he’d gotten here happily and stone sober.

“I’m doing what I need to do for me and for somebody I…care about.” Nathan swallowed. “And I have thought about it. And I’m good. We’re good.” Nathan forced steel into his voice. “So, please, Laura, get out of the way.”

Clearly hurt and angry, Laura stood aside, and Nathan and Fury walked out of Dennis’ apartment and ran for the stairs. But when they reached the car, Laura yelled, “Hey!”

Nathan wanted to get in the car and forget her, but he just couldn’t. “Yeah?” he said.

Laura stood on a pile of mulch, her shoe crushing a bare little shrub. “Where are you going? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Downtown,” Nathan answered.

“Old City?”

“Close.”

Laura nodded. “You don’t call me in one fucking hour, and I’m calling the cops and going after you myself. You got that?”

Nathan smiled. “I got it, Madam.”

“Good boy.” Laura’s smirk was there and gone so fast, it might have been Nathan’s imagination. She glowered at Fury while Nathan got into the Corvette, revved the engine, and backed out of the parking lot. She stood there, watching from her tiny landscaped mountain with her hand on the butt of her gun until Nathan rounded a building and she vanished from his sight.

Chapter Twelve

Nathan got past Carl with a casual wave, and neither Nathan nor Fury said a word as they drove for the warehouse. Twice Nathan spotted cops. Both times Nathan was miraculously slowing down from his breakneck speed to turn or to merge. Regardless if they were doing the right thing or not, the Universe was never this kind, and Nathan’s nerves began to clang like an off-tune piano plunking its way through a battle hymn. The nylon duffel bag sat behind Nathan and Fury on the rear storage ledge, and Nathan kept waiting for it to start ticking or vibrating or whispering the words of Satan. Not that Nathan would know those words, but he imagined they’d sound like a hoarse vampire describing what it felt like to be disemboweled. Nathan kept one eye on the bag in the rearview and just drove, palms sweaty on the steering wheel.

The first boom was distant, and Nathan dismissed it as car backfire, but the second one sounded more like a canon. It was closer too, or else they were getting closer to the source of the noise.

“What was that?” Nathan asked, half to himself.

“Dunno,” Fury said.

Nathan drove under the overpass, emerged from the tunnel, and saw the smoke before he saw the fire. They didn’t make it to the warehouse parking lot. Nathan slammed on the brakes and pulled off on the side of the road.