“Did you have dinner?”
He shook his head. “I munched on a few fries, but that’s all. I was too scared and shaken up. I don’t think I’ve eaten all that much in the past few days.” That was Marty. When he was upset, he stopped eating. During college exam weeks, he hardly ate anything at all, and then once they were over, he would be ravenous and eat anything and everything he could get his hands on. It was like a plague of locusts had descended on the place and nothing was safe from Marty’s appetite.
Thankfully, Eddie had some chicken noodle soup in the refrigerator, and he heated it up in the microwave. He set the bowl on the table with some crackers and let Marty eat. His appetite must have kicked in, because he ate—more slowly than he always had in the past—but he finished the soup and munched on some of the crackers.
“Can I ask why you’re working for a company like Haver Supply?” He had been looking toward a really good job at a national corporation when they had gone their separate ways. “What happened?”
“Life,” Marty suggested. “I had a really good job, but then the economy took a downturn, and the company downsized. They gave me a few months’ severance, said we’re sorry, and that was it. I had to find another job, which took a while, so a lot of my savings went with it. I applied for everything I could find, and Haver offered me a chance. What was I supposed to do?” His eyes held a defeated look that Eddie hated. Marty had always been so determined to do well and to make himself a success, and it sucked to see him beaten down like this.
“I don’t blame you. I think I’d have done the same thing. We have to do what we have to do.”
Marty smirked. “That coming from a police officer.” He tilted his head slightly. “I always thought you’d be involved with the law, on one side or the other of it.”
“Hey, I know I was a loudmouth rebel back in the day, but that doesn’t mean I was going to be a criminal.” He wondered if he should be offended.
“Hey, you did ‘borrow’ that motorcycle our junior year.” He winked, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“I had permission to borrow the motorcycle. It’s just that there were three of them there, and I accidentally got the wrong one.” He shook his head. “It was stupid of the owner to leave their keys with the bike. But we brought it back with no damage, and the owner laughed when he learned the whole story. And he learned to take his keys with him.”
Marty sighed. “That was some ride, though.”
Eddie closed his eyes for a second. He could almost feel the vibration of the engine under him, Marty pressed against his back, both of them thrumming with excitement as he opened the throttle, and they whizzed down the freeway. It had been exciting and fun. They rode for an hour and returned the bike to a hornet’s nest of activity. Eddie had had very different plans for their return, instead of explanations to the police and the owner. Thankfully, John West, the owner of the bike they thought they’d been borrowing, had been home and helped lend gravity to his explanation. In the end, the owner hadn’t pressed charges, and Eddie had returned home with Marty. He had hoped that the excitement and fun of the ride would give them a night to remember. It had, but just not in the way Eddie had thought.
Eddie cleared the dishes and tried not to let his mind wander to what he and Marty had done once they got to the apartment. His roommate had been gone for the weekend, sohe’d taken Marty to his room, and they had spent the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms. It had been magical and the first time Eddie had allowed himself to think that things between them could last forever.
“Have you gotten yourself settled in the guest room?” Eddie asked to give himself something to talk about.
“Yes. Thank you for coming and for helping. I didn’t know what else to do.” He got up from the old kitchen table and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m going to go to bed now.” He thanked Eddie once more before turning and going to the bedroom. Marty closed the door, and Eddie cleaned up the dishes, the house as quiet as if he had been alone. Then Eddie went to his own room, got ready for bed, and slipped under the covers.
He'd had a long day, capped off by a long, eventful evening, but all he did was stare up at the ceiling and listen. A few times some sound reached his ears, but mostly it was quiet. Eddie wondered what Marty was doing. But mostly his mind wandered through a forest of memories, and they all involved Marty. The ones he cherished most as well as the final memory where he left to pursue his dream, but Marty didn’t go along with him.
“Fucking hell,” he swore an hour later, punching his pillow, wishing his mind would turn off the running images ofMarty and Eddie, The Movie. They had done what they’d done. Each of them had made their decisions then, and good or bad, the past was what it was. He couldn’t change it, and given the circumstances, he would probably do the same thing again.
Eventually, Eddie fell asleep, only to wake to movement in the house. It took him a minute to remember that Marty was there. Water ran and then the house was quiet once again. Eddie got up and cracked the door. Lights flickered in the living room. Eddie made his way down the hall to find Marty sitting on one side of the sofa, watching an old movie on TV.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Marty whispered, and turned toward him. His mouth hung open, and Eddie looked down, realizing he was in nothing more than his underwear… and that Marty was looking at him like a starving man. Their gazes met, and Marty licked his lips but didn’t turn away. “I should have known. You were always so stunning,” he said softly, his gaze intensifying.
Energy and desire warred inside Eddie, his memories confronting the reality of his life today. He actually thought of taking Marty up on his unspoken offer. His body thrummed, and he was so tempted by the familiar, the warmth of their history together. But as much as Eddie wanted to go to the sofa and pull Marty into his arms, he turned around and slowly returned to his room, closing the door.
The followingmorning, after sleeping very little, Eddie cracked his eyes open and climbed out of bed. His dreams had been disjointed and weird, with strange images that all centered around Marty. Eddie opened his door to the scent of coffee and bacon, so he threw on some clothes and did a quick cleanup, then followed his nose to the kitchen, where Marty placed a mug of coffee on the table, followed by a plate of eggs with toast and a few slices of bacon.
“I see you still don’t do much cooking. Your refrigerator is a petri dish of old takeout containers and leftovers that I went through and tossed away.” He sat down as well. “You’re welcome.”
“But I was going to eat those.”
“And some of them were going to kill you.” Marty shook his head. “I also know that you don’t use your oven or stove very often. After all, the burners didn’t even light. I had to clean theentire stovetop and unplug the burner holes in order to get them to work. Thankfully, you had eggs and a few other things.”
Eddie took the first bite and hummed softly. “This is really good.” Marty always knew how to cook. His particular skill was to make something good out of next to nothing. Eddie took a few more bites and finished the eggs. “I guess you and I need to talk.” He purposely kept his gaze on his plate, figuring he might as well explain about last night and why he’d turned down what Marty had so obviously been offering.
“Yeah, we do,” Marty agreed, which made Eddie feel less uncomfortable. “I don’t know what I should do about work. Do I go in as though nothing happened? I doubt someone is going to try anything in the office itself, but I don’t know. I mean, if I quit or walk away, then whoever is behind this is going to know why, and I’ll have an even bigger target on my back.”
“Yes, I agree. And if you’re in the office, you might be able to help us figure out where the money is coming from and its ultimate destination. It has to belong to someone, and that information alone would be helpful.” Eddie paused. “But I don’t want to put you in any danger. With the amounts of money that are involved, it means that these are serious people, and they are not going to take any chances that endanger their business. What I’d like to do is talk to Brian and see what he thinks. We also need to know what you’re willing to do.” That was the big question.
ChapterThree
Marty wasafraid of what was to come. The thought of going back to work frightened him, but that might be the best course of action.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said again.
