There You Stand (12 page)

When Jude fled the tattoo parlor the other day, I had a reality check. I’d decided to take a step back and truly consider the enormity of the situation. Jude was in danger, had been for years, and he was hiding out here, under the protection of the Disciples.

What did I really think was going to happen with this guy anyway? Relationships were tough enough without having to constantly look over your shoulder.

Jude was so hot and cold with me anyway. It would be one thing if he was asking me to stick around and work through something, but at every turn he was pushing me away. And maybe that was part of the allure. The fact that he was so mysterious and unavailable.

But given what he’d recently told me about his stepfather, it seemed his physical scars had definitely brought about some emotional cargo as well. How could they not? Maybe that had everything to do with why he continually broke away when we got too close.

I had gotten off early, so I decided to get my head on straight by going for a long ride on my bike. I hadn’t done so in weeks, maybe even months, and it was something I’d always enjoyed. I snapped on my helmet and motored onto the street. I turned left at the light, knowing I needed to ride the length of Clifton Street to get to the freeway entrance.

The heaviness in my chest was already lifting as I drove closer to the marina. Just two more lights and I’d be on the expressway. My foot faltered on the break when I spotted Jude standing at the crosswalk with his backpack and tackle box. In a split second, I decided only to acknowledge him with a tip of my chin and then keep on cruising.

To my surprise, his lips tilted in a smile like he was happy to see me, relieved even. I lifted my hand in a low wave and as I motored past him his forehead grooved in disappointment. In my side view I saw him motion to me, so I pulled into the second driveway of the marina to circle back around.

I pulled alongside him on the curb. “What’s up?”

“I just . . . I haven’t seen you around.”

He noticed that I was staying away. I hated that it brought me comfort and relief.

I shrugged. “You ran out on me, so . . .”

He looked so conflicted that I actually felt bad that I wasn’t being friendlier.

“I’m sorry about that, Cory,” he said. “I’ve never shared any of that with anybody before. I don’t like when you . . .”

“When I pry too much?” I said, unable to hold back my sarcastic tone. “Guess you still think I didn’t have the right to know.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” he said, frustration etched across his forehead. “I was going to say that I don’t like when you’re angry with me.”

That completely threw me for a loop. My fingers squeezed the handlebar until my knuckles was colorless. In his own way, Jude was telling me that he cared. He had already given pieces of himself to me and I wanted to keep them safe. Keep him safe. But he wasn’t allowing me to do that, and that left me unsettled and confused.

I stared at him, unsure of what to say at this point. I didn’t even know where we stood.

“Am I holding you up?” he asked, motioning to the road. “Where are you off to?”

“I was just going for a long ride. To try and clear my head.”

“Want some company?” he asked, his eyes soft and hopeful.

He was reaching out to me and that gesture was hard to resist. “Sure.”

He breathed out in relief. “Give me a few minutes to drop these home, wash up, and pull out my bike.”

“I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

I watched him walk across the street to head toward home. Then I parked my bike near the kayak launch and strolled toward the water. I heard a motorcycle engine in the distance and looked up, wondering where it was coming from.

Jude’s words about protection from the club echoed back at me and I decided right then and there that if Jude couldn’t share anything with me than I couldn’t give him anything more than my friendship. That added extra weight to my chest, but I needed to show myself that respect.

I took a few more minutes to stare at the water’s edge and then hopped on my bike to head to Jude’s. As I rolled up his driveway, a curtain swung back in place when I passed his neighbor’s house. I wondered if his landlord watched out for him, too. Vaughn’s words echoed back at me that Jude was finally safe.

Jude was wheeling his bike from the garage. He had slipped into a pair of jeans and black motorcycle boots and damn, he looked good. He grabbed for his helmet and snapped it under his chin.

“Do you like to fish?”

My neck snapped back and I remained silent while I thought about it. I’d only been fishing a couple of times and I kind of hated it. The waiting, the silence, the stillness.

“Too quiet for you?”

“Smartass,” I said, but he didn’t laugh.

“I was being serious.”

“Think you got me figured out?”

“I hope so,” he said.

“Well, I don’t have you figured out at all,” I said, terser than I’d intended. But it was like all of my emotions these past few days were coming to a head. “In fact, the more time I spend with you the more questions I have.”

His face fell and his eyes darted to the ground. “I know.”

There was a long silence between us.

“You frightened of me, Cory?” he mumbled.

“No,” I said and his shoulders unwound. “But my heart is.”

He sank down on his bike and before he started the motor, he said, “My heart is afraid, too.”

I closed my eyes and nodded in understanding.

We didn’t discuss where we were going, just headed back toward the freeway and out of town.

It felt good to ride next to him, the wind at my back. Liberating. Unencumbered. Whereas one time, I balked at the idea of sharing this experience with anybody because it reminded me of David, now I welcomed it.

Because no matter how crazy and jumbled Jude made me feel, being in his presence also rooted me. And that was confusing. And complicated.

Being on the open road brought a different kind of quiet that I’d been avoiding the last couple of years because there were too many memories.

You needed to remain alert in traffic and there was always something to look at—a slideshow of scenery and people.

I’d take this over fishing any day, where you had to sit or stand in one spot for hours. Just waiting for something to happen.

We rode the back streets for a long time, passing by farms and fields before reluctantly turning around to head back home.

“Looks like a possible storm,” I shouted to him at stop sign on a deserted road. My head was rolled back, staring at the sky, and I had spotted some dark clouds in the distance.

“Rain bothers you, true or false?” he said.

I bit my lip and nodded. Then sped off ahead.

It felt amazing being with Jude. Even though there was no way to talk easily on this kind of ride, I was sharing something with him in a different way and got to know him better in the process.

He was a bit of a daredevil on the road, similar to how he was on his skateboard. When there was no traffic in sight, he’d gun the engine down the lane, riding in the middle of the road, giving me a heart attack when I’d see a dip or a bend up ahead.

Whereas I was extremely cautious since David’s accident, Jude took chances. I had to wonder if this was his outlet, his release, since he had to hold it together in public all the time.

I’ll admit I was sometimes tense when I rode with David, but for a different reason. His recklessness had been internal. Kind of like Dex’s. Neither of them knew how to hold their alcohol well. I hadn’t seen Jude under the influence even once and I was going to guess it was because he had to remain alert and in control at all times.

A couple of exits before our own, Jude motioned for me to pull off the freeway. I followed him into town, where he turned down a side street and then pulled into an empty lot. When I sidled next to him, he pointed. “See that ramp?”

I looked ahead and saw a concrete loop and barrier.

“This is where the games are going to be held.”

I spotted trucks and trailers, a Bobcat and a crane, and realized that plenty of construction had to happen in order to set up an event like this.

“You excited to see the show?”

At first there was wariness in his eyes that I didn’t understand. But it changed over to enthusiasm as he nodded.

“What part of you is on edge about it?”

His forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?”

“I can see it in your eyes,” I said. “There’s something that concerns you about this event.”

His mouth quirked up. “Guess you know me better than you say you do.”

I shrugged. “Recently I’ve had lots of practice reading your expression instead of listening to your words.”

“Fair enough,” he said, holding my gaze. “I kind of like that you know me, because nobody else does. Not anymore.”

My heart hammered in my chest and I fought to keep my emotions in check. Nothing had changed between us. He was still holding back.

“You going to answer my question?”

“Does rain bother you because of the accident?” he asked, turning a question back on me.

I gritted my teeth and hesitated in responding. “Mostly, yeah. Makes me feel uneasy.”

He stared at me a long moment and nodded. Then his gaze swung to the construction site. “They’ll probably build the stands over there.”

At first I was confused by the change in topic but then I finally put it together. “You’re afraid of the crowd?”

“Not exactly.”

“The people who might be in the crowd?”

He moved his head up and down.

“Because you’re supposed to be in hiding?”

He took the longest time answering and when he did it was as if he was giving me the last pieces of himself. There was a noticeable shift in the energy between us. “Yeah.”

His expression was guarded again as he waited on my reaction.

“Okay,” I said, trying to control the storm brewing inside of me. “So why are you going?”

“It’s something that I’d enjoy. Alex says I have to live my life.”

My stomach throbbed at the mention of a guy’s name. “Alex?”

“The man you saw me at the park with that one day?”

“The man I figured was your parole officer?”

“Is that what you thought?” he asked looking thoughtful. “Makes sense I guess.”

“So he’s not?” My heart was in my throat waiting to hear who this anonymous man was to him. How he figured into his mysterious life.

“No,” he said. “He’s a federal marshal.”

My hands clenched my thighs as my world spun out of control. It was no longer a world that I was familiar with. The scenery had changed on me in the blink of an eye.

“Are you a fugitive?” I asked, fear spiking inside of me.

No, that didn’t make sense. He would’ve been locked up if that were the case.

“I guess in a way I am,” he said and my eyebrows rose. “Witness protection.”

I took loud panting breaths as I placed it all together in my head. He was on the run from his stepfather, who had killed his mother and maybe wanted to kill him, too. Or maybe Jude knew too much information about him, confessed, and had to go into hiding.

“I know you’ve got a bloody brilliant brain and have already figured it out,” he said. “Probably don’t need to spell anything out to you.”

Still, some things didn’t add up. “Why the Disciples of the Road?”

“Alex figures it’s the best way,” he said. “They have a beef with my stepdad. A long-ago dispute that involved my stepdad stealing guns from an affiliate motorcycle club. Guess they got proof and want nothing more to do with him. I stay close to the Disciples, I’m under their protection.”

My mind was whirling like wheels on ice. When Jude told me earlier in the week his stepfather was ruthless, I wasn’t sure what that meant. Except it now fit with the rumors I’d heard about the Disciples. I felt like I was in some crazy-ass movie involving criminals and it was now being played out in real life.

“Why does Alex figure it’s time?”

“It’s been years. My stepdad either hasn’t tried to find me or hasn’t been successful. He’s in hiding himself,” he said. “Alex knows skating is in my blood, figures if I wasn’t under federal protection, I’d have gone pro by now. So he told me to go see the show.”

“Man, Jude, this is all so . . . fucked up.”

“I understand if you want to walk away right now. In fact maybe you should,” he said, sadness in his eyes. “Anything we do would have to be on the down low and I’m not sure you’re that kind of guy. And I’d always be concerned about your safety.”

“Does the club know about us?”

“They don’t ask but I think they have it figured out,” he said. “I don’t think Malachi likes the idea of having a queer under his protection. But he also might think that we’re just screwing around and that it’ll run its course.”

“Little do they know we haven’t even done that yet,” I said.

He hesitated. “Do you want to do that with me?”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“Goddamn it, Cory,” he groaned. “It’s hard enough staying away from you.”

“Tell me about it,” I said, adjusting myself on my seat.

We stared at each other for a minute more, desire blazing in his eyes, while I put extra pieces and parts together in my mind.

“Have you been with both men and women?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’ve always preferred men.”

“Did your stepfather know that?”

He nodded. “He used it to his advantage. Cory, I’ve done some illegal things under his control. Mostly as a minor. He was . . . very persuasive.”

Fuck, his scars. I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing about any more of it. Besides, I knew deep in my gut that Jude was a good person. “I think I understand.”

He swallowed visibly as if relieved.

“Who was the boyfriend you mentioned that you’d been in love with?”

“Figured all that out yourself did you?” he said. “Ah hell. Listen, it was rough going there for a while before my mum was murdered . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy I thought I was in love with? His name was Mateo,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I fell for him—or at least I thought I did—but he was just manipulating me so he could persuade me to do more of my stepfather’s dirty work. Mostly carrying packages or being a lookout when they were running guns.”