He laughed, but then he twined his fingers between Avery’s and held his gaze intently. “I’ll bid on you. I’ll be the one who takes you home.”
Avery’s heart could have burst. He tried to smile, but the pain and swelling meant it probably looked more like a deranged grimace. “As soon as my face is better, you’re going to get the best blow job of your life.”
Linc winced. “That would be a more attractive offer if there wasn’t blood on your teeth.” He squeezed Avery’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
* * *
Every time they saw each other that week, guilt gnawed at Linc’s insides. The swelling was worst on the second day. He had only been able to get one eye open. On the fourth day, the bruising took over. The right side of his face turned black and purple from his nose to his eyebrow. The left side was better, with a line of sick purple-green that only spread under his eye to the ridge of his cheekbone. Once the swelling went down, they could see his nose was still reasonably straight. But even Linc found it hard to look at him for long.
So, of course, Wanda and Vasquez invited them over on day five.
When she opened the front door, Vasquez’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide like saucers. “Holy shit, Sweet Potato. What the hell happened to you?”
“It’s nothing.” Under the purples and greens, Avery’s cheeks reddened.
“Like hell. Did you at least give the police a decent description of the homophobic jackass who did this to you?”
Linc was about to ask her if she’d mind letting them in when Avery said, “I did actually. Six foot one. Brown hair, brown eyes. Mid-twenties. Pecs and ass to die for. His chin is kind of scratchy when he hasn’t shaved, and his elbows are super pointy when they connect with my face. But he’s great in bed, so not so much with the homophobic jackass part.”
If Vasquez’s jaw dropped any farther, she’d dislocate it, and they’d have to call an ambulance. She stared at Avery in disbelief before her attention turned to Linc. “You?”
“It was an accident.”
Her lips thinned, and she glared at him, but then Vasquez put an arm over Avery’s shoulders and guided him into the house, clucking like she was his mother. “You poor little sweet potato. Let Auntie Ronnie make it better. I told him to look after you.”
Linc followed slowly behind them, out of smacking range.
His phone rang in his pocket. The screen saidLacey. “He was here again today.”
Linc glanced up the hall. Vasquez and Avery were in the kitchen. Wanda had joined them, and Avery was telling the story of his nose all over again.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he was sitting on the porch when I got home from work.”
“And?”
“He said he needed a place to stay for a few days.” She sounded pissed, firing Linc’s own fear and frustration.
“And you rolled out the welcome wagon?”
“Of course not. I gave him a hundred bucks and told him to go find a motel.”
He closed his eyes. “You gave him money?”
“Well, what was I supposed to do? Make him dinner and unfold the couch?”
“Call the police?” The bastard needed to get lost. Old feelings, the ones telling Linc to run, threatened to strangle him.
“Hanging out on my porch isn’t exactly breaking the law. And he hasn’t done anything to let me get a restraining order yet.”
Yet.
He looked up the hall again. Avery had his hands on Wanda’s face, thumbs over her nose. He jerked, and they all laughed, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
“Look,” he said. “Don’t give him any more money. He’ll just spend it on cigarettes and online poker.”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
