Against the Rules (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Popping open the backyard gate, Kelly stooped down and undid Lola’s leash. The puppy still wasn’t particularly fast—every passing butterfly distracted her—but they’d managed a slow jog. He slammed the gate shut, scratched her behind the ears and went inside to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich. It was his last free night before he had to work for five nights solid, and if he hurried he could get in an hour or two of writing before Ian’s last class.

He unlocked the back door and walked into the kitchen. There was clutter on the counter and dirty dishes in the sink. If his mother were still alive she’d already be yelling, telling him he couldn’t go out until every last crumb was swept away. Still, Kelly couldn’t quite hide his smile at the reminder of last night’s dinner.

Of course, not everything in the kitchen was left over from the night before.

His Aunt Carly was sitting at the breakfast bar wearing a peach dress with a faded floral pattern and drinking tea out of one of his mother’s china cups. Kelly bit his lip to keep from swearing. “I really need to change the locks.”

“Hilarious.” Carly nodded toward the teapot sitting on the big kitchen island. “Want a cup? It’s ginger.”

“Mom’s favorite.”

“Only after she got sick; it helped settle her stomach. When we were little, she liked black tea with bergamot. She’d pour honey into it until her spoon stood up straight in the cup, then go around with a sugar high for the rest of the afternoon.” Carly laughed at the memory. “She was a hellcat. I could never keep up.”

It was such a small thing, an easy memory, but it could also be an olive branch. Kelly’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Maybe Carly wasn’t there to fight after all. “When I was in elementary school, she used to make me mint tea.”

“No caffeine with mint tea. It’s a good choice for kids.”

“Right.” Kelly poured himself a cup of tea and took a quick sip. There was something extra in with the ginger, lemon and honey. He smiled. “You used to make the best lemon bars. Mom always used the same recipe, but they never came out the same. Finally, she just gave up and started asking you for a tray to bring home after family dinners.”

“We all have different skills.” Carly’s hands wrapped around her cup. She stared down into the liquid like she was searching for the answer to life itself, and when she glanced up her eyes were wet with unspent tears. “I loved your mother. Emma was always the baby, but by the time she came around it was always ‘Make sure Janet doesn’t try to cross the road’ and ‘Caroline, you need to keep a better eye on your sister.’ I was always watching out for her, but, Kelly, you have to know it was worth it. Your mother was so smart, so pretty. She could have been anything, a doctor or a lawyer. She could have gone to California and been a movie star or a famous artist. You know she didn’t always study dusty old painters. She used to sculpt back in college. Nice stuff. I have a few of her pieces somewhere, I’ll get one out for you sometime.”

“That would be nice.”

“She had dreams. She used to tell me all about the things she was going to do, and then she met your father...” There was a long pause. Carly sighed. “Do you miss him?”

“I miss what it was like when I was a kid, back when they still liked each other.”

“They didn’t just like each other. I never saw a couple more in love than your parents. I should have done more when he died—given you space to mourn—but we were all so worried, so angry...”

“You did everything you could, Aunt Carly. We all did.”

“Right.” His aunt looked older than he’d ever seen her before. She shook her head. “Your father never knew how to support her dreams, and by the time she realized what she’d given up it was too late to change. She already had you and the house, like anchors around her neck. Not that she’d have given you up for the world, but she never got a chance to follow her dreams. It ate at her sometimes.”

It was like they were remembering two different women. The Janet O’Connor who’d raised Kelly had always been laughing, so full of bright energy. But maybe there’d been some melancholy at the edges. Kelly glanced around the perfectly renovated kitchen, the physical expression of his mother’s need for more. Maybe the kitchen didn’t need to be cleaned up after all. Maybe it needed to be lived in.

“I want you to have the chances she never did,” Carly continued without seeming to notice Kelly’s reverie. “I don’t want you to look back in twenty years and still be stuck in this museum. I thought Ian might help you see that...but it doesn’t look like it’s happening.” She put her cup down on the island. When she spoke again her eyes were clear and her voice was firm and unwavering. “You need to leave Halston. Sell me the house and you’ll have money to see the world. To do something. What is it you want to do, Kelly?”

Skin prickled on the back of his neck where the bruise had healed weeks earlier. He wanted to run screaming from the house, to go to Ale Mary’s and drink until he forgot the look in his mother’s eyes when she finally blinked out of existence, to find Ian and have him hold him; most of all he wanted to feel as much pain on the outside as he did on the inside.

He forced himself to take one deep breath after another, but none of it helped. Even leaning back against the cupboard door—allowing something hard to dig into the tender flesh on his ass where Ian had bitten him a few days earlier—wasn’t enough. He needed something to focus on—something more.

“I know what you think...uptight Aunt Carly always pushing, but I only want what’s best for you.”

“Of course, Aunt Carly, I know that.”

“It’ll take Emma and me a few weeks to get the money together and the paperwork started, but I can come over next weekend to help you start going through your mother’s books and things. Most of it will be donated to the church or the university, but we’ll pick out the things that are important to you and box them up. That way you can leave straight after graduation.” Her smile was beatific. “Do you want me to host a party?”

Kelly couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to sell the house? Carly certainly seemed to think so. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was for the best. His gaze strayed across the kitchen to the dishes in the sink. Ian had made dinner the night before, roast chicken with new potatoes and fresh herbs. There’d been a salad too, spinach and gorgonzola. They’d eaten at the island and afterward they’d walked the dog around the block.

His heart tightened. His limbs felt clumsy and disjointed, like they didn’t quite belong to him. He should say something, but Carly was already talking about her plans for the party.

There’d be a rented tent in the backyard and a big cake for both of the graduates—he wouldn’t mind sharing his special day with Colin, after all, even if his cousin was only graduating from high school—and the entire family would come. Kenneth already had plans to drive back, wasn’t that special? Of course, he only had a few days between his semester ending at law school and when he needed to start his clerkship, but it was so sweet of him to spend that time with family.

“Very sweet,” Kelly found himself murmuring in agreement.

After a few minutes Carly stood up and kissed him on the cheek. She said something quietly, but he didn’t even realize she was leaving until she took his hand. “Walk me to the front door.”

“Of course.” Kelly did as he was told, escorting his aunt through the house and into the foyer. He opened the door for her and let her pass out into the sunlight with another quick hug goodbye.

Then he turned and walked upstairs to his room. Maybe he couldn’t stand up to his aunt but there were still some choices he could make. His club clothes were all at the university, but he could still find a pair of tight jeans and maybe the white undershirt he’d worn to eighties night? If he smoothed some product through his hair and rimmed his eyes in dark liner there’d be no mistaking what he was looking for...trouble.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Marcy was standing in front of Ian’s office when he got back from class. “I am not your secretary.” She poked him firmly in the chest.

“You’re the department’s secretary.”

“Kiss my ass, that doesn’t mean I’m hanging around waiting to answer your phone calls.” She handed him a stack of message slips. “There’s a young woman trying to reach you. I said you were in class but she kept calling. Gidget needs to learn how to calm down.”

“Gidget have a name?”

“Nope.” The phone at Marcy’s desk started ringing. She winced. “That’s probably her now. She said it was about your boyfriend. I said you didn’t have a boyfriend. If you had a boyfriend then I’d know about it, right?”

Ian didn’t bother answering; he was too busy lunging for the phone. “Larkin,” he answered with a sharp snap.

“Finally,” Nora said from the other end of the line. “Is Kelly with you?”

“Should he be?”

“He was leaving when I got there to walk Lola. He looked—” There was a slight hiccup in her voice. “I thought he might be going to hang out with you, but then my mom said Carly’s finally convinced him to sell her the house.”

The house? Ian blinked in confusion. “Why the hell would Carly want to buy the house?” Why would Kelly let her?

“I don’t know, but she’s been on about it for months, and Kelly—” There was that hiccup again. “I called his cell phone, but it’s turned off. Do you know where he might go? I’m a little worried.”

There were at least seven message slips in his hand. Nora was more than a little worried. She was frantic. “Do you have a pen?” He gave her his cell number. “I’m going over to the dorm to check if he’s there. Don’t freak out.”

“Right, right.” Nora’s words were coming faster. “Do you think I should see if Colin can look for him? Just to drive around and look for his car.” There was a sniff. “I don’t want to leave the house in case he comes back.”

“Did he look angry? Like he might go to your aunt’s?”

“No, he just looked vacant...you know? Like he just didn’t care anymore. Like he wasn’t even there.”

Ian’s heart felt like it had stopped beating altogether. He knew exactly what look she was talking about. “Tell Colin to check the bars near campus first and to call me if he sees the car. Call me if
anyone
sees
anything
,” he stressed before hanging up. He started to walk toward the building’s exit...and then he started to run.

By the time he got to North Dorm his head was pounding. He grabbed the dorm’s door as it opened, stepping in past a couple of upset undergrads, and lunged down the long hallway to bang on Kelly’s familiar door. The legend was still there in confident block letters: If you see something say something. If it’s a real emergency call public safety. Don’t be stupid. Don’t panic.

Fuck that. He knocked twice more then pulled out his cell and dialed. Nora had said Kelly’s phone was off, but he needed to hear for himself. The ring tone and then the familiar voice mail message. He racked his brain, trying to come up with any possible answers before moving down the hall to bang on another door.

“This better be fucking important,” Nick growled as he yanked the door open. He blinked in surprise when he saw who was on the other side. “Larkin, you got a death wish?”

“No, I—” Ian pushed his way into the dorm room. It was a large double with all the college-issued furniture arranged to make a seating area on one half while the other side was dominated by a queen-size bed. Jesse was seated cross-legged in the middle of the bed with his shirt off, his cheeks flushed. Fuck. He’d interrupted something. “Have you seen Kelly?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.” If Kelly was stressed about something, why hadn’t he come to find Ian? They could have talked the problem over, fixing it together, and—if it was something that couldn’t be fixed—Ian could have been the one to provide the kind of distraction he so desperately needed. But Ian had been in class—unavailable—so had Kelly gone looking for what he needed somewhere else?

The thought ripped a hole in his chest and filled it with broken glass and barbed wire. They were a couple, damn it. Boyfriends. He loved Kelly. He loved...

When he got Kelly back—if he got him back—he was going to tan the boy’s hide for worrying him like this. He wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. Or maybe he’d just tie Kelly to the damn bed. For good this time.

“You think something’s happened?” Nick asked, and there was a trace of worry in his voice.

Ring
. The phone in Ian’s hand jumped.
Riing.
He held up a hand to push off any questions from Nick and hit the talk button. “You find him?”

“Colin spotted his car,” Nora said. “It’s parked at the Roadhouse.”

“Fuck.” The biker bar on the edge of town wasn’t the kind of place Kelly could find a quick hookup to satisfy his kink. The men there were all leather and muscle and chrome. And, on a bad night, they were also all guns and drugs and police raids.

It wasn’t the place for a mild-mannered college professor, but this time Ian wasn’t about to stand aside and let his lover get hurt. He couldn’t let that happen again. Maybe his brand of kink wasn’t enough to keep Kelly satisfied, but he could still keep him safe.

Besides, he wasn’t all that mild-mannered.

“You want me to call my dad?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ian said. Matt might be big, but the last time he’d been in a fight had probably been in high school. His gaze shifted to the goliath who’d answered the dorm room door. “I’ve got backup.”

“Just make sure he’s okay,” Nora said before hanging up the phone.

Nick was already reaching for his boots. “What’s Kelly doing now?”

“I don’t know. But he’s doing it at the Roadhouse.”

“Shit.”

“I’m coming with you.” Jesse uncrossed his legs and walked over to the closest wardrobe. He opened the door and started to sort through it.

“The hell you are,” Nick sputtered angrily.

“It’s not optional.” The sophomore tugged a clean shirt on over his narrow shoulders.

“You don’t fight.”

“No, but I can bail your asses out of jail without the check bouncing.” Jesse paused before adding a slim-cut V-neck sweater. When he turned around he looked sedate and respectable. “And I’ve got Uncle Joe on speed dial in case you need legal representation.”

It didn’t sound like the worst idea in the world, but it wasn’t Ian’s call. He glanced over at Nick.

“Fine. You can come with us, but you’re staying in the car. I don’t want you putting a toe inside the Roadhouse.”

“Perfect.” Jesse snagged his backpack from where it was resting near the doorway. “I can work on my economics homework.”

He really was one of Ian’s best students.

The trio headed out of the dorm room, Jesse hurrying to keep up with Nick’s and Ian’s longer legs as they walked over to the faculty parking lot and squeezed into Ian’s car. His hands were shaking as he threw the vehicle into gear and peeled out of the parking lot.

Time to go rescue Prince Charming.

The Roadhouse was thirty minutes away.

Fifteen if he hurried and didn’t hit any speed traps.

But first, they needed to stop at his apartment for some equipment.

Kelly had been to the Roadhouse twice before, once as a kid to meet one of his father’s friends to go fishing and then again after his father’s accident on the dead man’s curve between the bar and town. The owner had promised to throw a wake, but between the bikers out front and the hookers doing business in the back, Kelly had only stayed twenty minutes.

The place was smaller than he remembered. The floors were black and covered in something sticky. Most of the patrons looked like they hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a week.

Kelly sat at the bar and ordered a beer. “With a whiskey chaser.”

The bartender frowned. “Gonna need to see your cash, kid.”

He handed over a twenty. “That cover it?”

“And the next round.” He got out a bottle of Budweiser and followed it with a shot of no-name whiskey. He took the twenty and made change, placing the slightly soggy bills on the counter.

Perfect. Kelly tossed the whiskey back—biting back a curse when the cheap alcohol burned its way down his throat—then picked up the beer and took a swig. He turned slightly on his seat to watch the crowd. Some of the men were playing pool in the far corner. Others were gathered around an old jukebox. Most of them were drinking and more than a few were giving him the eye. Like predators who’d just spotted something cute and fuzzy.

Bastards. He took another long pull on his beer. Had they been here the night his father died? Would they answer him if he asked? Or, would they just give him the beating he’d asked for by walking through the door?

Metal squeaked as a wiry man sat down beside him. Hair slicked back under a red bandana, hands dark with grease, the guy had half a dozen tattoos that Kelly could count, including an eerily detailed profile of a raven in flight peeking out from behind one ear.

“Come here often?” Kelly asked.

“More than you.” He stared straight ahead, bowed lips barely moving as he spoke. “You got a name, blondie?”

A familiar burst of adrenaline surged through Kelly’s veins. He hadn’t come to the Roadhouse looking for a hookup, but maybe if he said yes...maybe if he smiled and flirted and told this stranger all the things he wanted to hear...maybe then he could forget...

Except, that would mean cheating on Ian and turning his back on the one good thing in his life.

He’d rather gouge out his own eyes.

Coming to the bar had been a mistake. He’d known that as soon as he walked through the door, but now he could feel it in his bones. He pocketed his change—leaving a tip on the counter—and stood to go without finishing his beer.

The crowd near the door thickened, coalescing like a dark cloud on the horizon. They formed a wall of leather vests and evil looks. One man pursed his lips, sending air kisses in Kelly’s direction, and another spat his toothpick onto the ground.

Kelly bit his lip and checked for other exits. There weren’t any. He pulled out his cell phone. The damn thing was out of battery.

Hell.