Cowboy Gangster 03 - Outlaws of Love (27 page)

“Go out with her?” Jimmy repeated with a shimmer of disbelief. “As in…
date
her?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t mean any offense toward this girl, or any girls,” Jimmy said. “But less than a week ago you were getting in pretty deep with a
man
. Axel…I know the cowboy hurt you, but are you really ready to give up on any chance of being with him again? This is kind of a drastic step…backwards. Don’t you think?”

Axel gazed blankly across the room. “He isn’t coming back, Jimmy,” he trembled.

“You don’t know for sure that he isn’t coming back,” Jimmy countered.

“I do,” Axel said thickly. “And I don’t care. It’s better this way. He was right, we don’t belong together.”

♦

Cory’s voice tightened with frustration –and quiet desperation. “No, he
wasn’t
right. You do belong together, even I could see that. And I don’t believe you, Axel. I don’t believe that you don’t care if he never comes back.”

“What difference would it make if I did care?” Axel murmured. “
He
doesn’t care. And he isn’t coming back.”

“Axel…”

“Zoe is a nice girl,” he said quietly. “We’re gonna go out tomorrow. It’s what I want, Jimmy. Clint was the only man I’ve ever been with and…and I don’t think it was what it appeared to be.”

Cory frowned. “What do you mean…not what it appeared to be? If you’re trying to imply that what happened between the two of you doesn’t mean you’re gay…Axel, you’re fooling yourself. Maybe a straight guy can have sex with another guy and still be straight, but you don’t
fall in love
with another man if you’re not gay.”

“I don’t think it was love,” Axel whispered.

“No,” Cory said. “You’re just hurting right now, so you don’t want to believe it was love. But your heart knows the truth, Axel. And dating a girl isn’t going to magically-”

“Leave him alone, Cory.”

Cory glanced up quickly to find Clint in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. Cory’s brow pinched.

His voice low, Clint emphasized, “Let him be. We’re through. It’s over. Let it go.”

Releasing a slow, tight breath, Cory spoke into the phone. “Just don’t make any…rash decisions, okay? We’ll talk when I get back to my apartment.”

Clint gazed at him and shook his head.

“All right,” Axel mumbled. “But-”

“No,” Cory interjected. “We’ll talk later. Go out on your date if you want, but don’t jump into anything. Okay? Promise?”

Axel sighed. “Okay,” he agreed. A smile crept into his voice. “I wasn’t planning on doing any jumping anyway.”

“Good,” Cory nodded. “I have to go, but I’ll talk to you again in a day or so, and hopefully see you soon.”

“I hope so, too,” Axel said quietly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Cory smiled. “And by the way, don’t go all stubborn on me.” He looked at Clint. “I have enough stubborn asses in my life as it is.”

Axel laughed softly. “No promises.”

When the called ended, Cory lowered the phone and stared at it in silence. Clint pushed away from the doorframe and entered the room. “When you go back to your apartment,” he said. “I don’t want you discouraging him from seeing the girl.”

Cory looked up, his brow furrowed. “You know about her?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t right,” Cory said. “He’s trying to run away from who he is…his feelings for you.”

“Then let him run,” Clint told him. “The further he gets away from me, the better off he’ll be. Let him move on. It’s the best thing for him. And for me, too.”

“What?” Cory scooted up straighter in bed. “What do you mean?”

Clint shrugged. “Maybe I need to move on, too.”

“No,” Cory returned with frustration. “He’s only doing this because he’s hurting. If you went back to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to be with you again.”

“You heard me, Cory,” Clint murmured. “Don’t interfere. If he decides to date this girl, then as his friend, you support him. Let it be over for him.” He glanced away and dragged his hand over his mouth, his voice lowering. “And for me. It’s better this way.”

“It isn’t
better
,” Cory choked.

“Corrigan!” Clint turned on him, eyes burning. “Drop it. Now.”

Adrian entered and stopped abruptly at Clint’s outburst. “Should I come back?”

Clint stared hard at Cory. “No,” he muttered. “I was just leaving.” He exhaled heavily, calming a fraction. “I got a lead from…” He faltered briefly and cleared his throat. “…From a guy at the Blue Grotto who knew our…” He glanced at Adrian then back to Cory. “Our
special
guests. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but I’ll check it out anyway.”

Cory nodded. “Be careful, Uncle Clint,” he mumbled. “Don’t go alone. Take Cochise with you.”

Clint looked at him, his face softening a little. “Yes, sir.”

Shaking his head, Cory offered up a small smile. “Get out of here, you stubborn ass.”

Clint’s lips twitched with amusement that faded long before it reached his eyes, and left the bedroom. The man was hurting as bad as Axel –and running from his pain just as hard.

“He’s your uncle?” Adrian asked, coming around the side of the bed.

“More of an honorary uncle,” Cory told him, his eyes on the empty doorway. He shook his head. “Why are the old ones always so damn stubborn?”

Adrian chuckled softly and unwrapped the blood pressure cuff. “I guess we’ll figure it out when we get old and stubborn.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cory nodded. He looked at the man. “It’s nice to have some young blood around here. I’m surrounded by stubborn old men.” He chuffed. “My dad. Uncle Angelo. Uncle Cochise.”

“Ah, well,” Adrian smiled. “I kind of favor stubborn old men.” He winked. “So I guess I’m right in my element, huh?”

Cory laughed quietly. “You certainly came to the right place.”

“Of course…” Adrian wrapped the cuff around Cory’s upper left arm and fastened the Velcro. “I’m not
that
far off from being an old man myself. I am almost thirty.”

“Wow,” Cory smirked. “Almost thirty. You are ancient.”

Shaking his head, Adrian grinned. “Sometimes it feels that way.”

“Are you married?” Cory asked. “I don’t see a ring.”

“No.” Adrian squeezed the small, palm-sized pump, inflating the cuff. “I…” he shrugged. “I move around a lot. Don’t meet a lot of people willing to uproot their lives and move with you, not even in the name of love.”

“I suppose not,” Cory murmured.

“Love isn’t what it used to be,” Adrian said quietly, watching the blood pressure gauge as he slowly released the pressure. “Maybe that’s why I prefer older men. Love used to mean something in their day. Now…” He shook his head and unwrapped the cuff. “…It’s little more than a catch phrase, it seems.”

Cory gazed at him. “You’re pretty deep for a male nurse.”

“Mm,” Adrian nodded and wrapped up the blood pressure cuff. “That’s what my last boyfriend said the first time he nailed me.”

Cory stared at him as a smile tweaked Adrian’s lips. Cory busted out laughing. “Fuck.”

♦

Across from the rundown apartment building, Clint parked the car and killed the engine. Overflowing garbage cans and bags of trash littered the sidewalk. Clumps of kids in their teens and early twenties scattered the block, wearing gang threads and trying to look a hell of a lot tougher than they were.

“Who is this guy?” Cochise muttered and stared at the building from the passenger seat.

“Name’s Dodge,” Clint said. “He and Ryder had some racket going together.”

“What kind of racket?”

“Dog fighting,” Clint told him.

“Great,” Cochise growled. “More animals.”

Clint stared silently across the street and tried like hell to get his head in the game, his mind to focus. He’d only needed to hear Cory’s side of the phone conversation to know what Axel was saying.

He didn’t believe Clint was coming back.

He didn’t want to believe he was really gay.

He didn’t think…it had really been love.

All good things.
So why the fuck didn’t it
feel
good? Why did everything about last night hurt so fucking deep? Only one thing had felt good, and it had been short lived, the satisfaction fading much too quickly. He needed another
fix
–and soon.

Three kids in their late teens sauntered across the street as Clint and Cochise climbed out of the car. They sidled up to the vehicle, checking it out. The three of them were dressed similar with beanie caps, baggy pants, open shirts and thick chain necklaces, along with an array of piercings. Two of the trio were Hispanic, the third was a white boy but spoke with a practiced Spanish accent.

“Nice wheels, boto.”

Clint looked at him dryly and withdrew the Beretta and casually released the clip. “My friend here…” Clint tossed a single nod at Cochise, his eyes on his weapon. “…Has a special affection for this car.”

Cochise stared at the three young men with dead eyes then leaned over and kissed the roof and caressed his hand down the edge of the windshield.

Clint looked up and snapped the clip into place. “Understand?”

Struggling to retain their “macho” image, the kids shrugged and nodded. “It’s cool, Holmes,” the white boy returned absently. “Wasn’t gonna touch.”

“Smart.”
Lying little fuck.

The boys ambled away, talking tough amongst themselves as if they hadn’t just gotten their balls broken.

Clint put his weapon away and headed across the street, the Egyptian on his heels. “You owe me,” Cochise muttered when they passed through the doorway and entered the stairwell.

“For what?”

“Kissing your fucking car.”

A smile quirking his lips, Clint looked at him. “You liked it.” He started up the stairs.

“Fuck you, cowboy,” Cochise growled and followed.

“Be careful,” Clint murmured. “You might get it.”

Cochise chuffed. “I’d break you in half, little boy.”

“And what about the good doctor?” Clint stepped into the second floor corridor. “Did you break
him
in half last night?” Clint walked ahead as the Egyptian slowed a bit, and approached the designated apartment door. He looked at Cochise when the man caught up. “You think I didn’t know where you disappeared to as soon as we got back?”

Cochise stared at him with hard eyes. “You got something to say?”

“Yeah,” Clint spoke low, tight, and withdrew his weapon –then turned his focus to the door, behind which could be heard distant, muffled barking and growling. “Don’t get your ass bit.” He brought his foot up and nailed the door with the heel of his boot, busting the inside frame and knocking it loose on its hinges.

A startled –
“What the fuck?” –
burst from the occupant, then panicked scrambling. Clint and Cochise entered quickly, weapons drawn and eyes alert for loose dogs. The Egyptian was on the man as the guy scurried for the bedroom, and dragged him back into the living room by the scruff of the neck and threw him down on the old sofa. He tried to bolt forward and caught Clint’s boot in the chest, heel grinding as he held him in place.

“Who the fuck are you guys?” he cried. “What do you want?”

Clint leaned forward, putting pressure on his foot and causing it to push harder against the man’s chest wall. He rested his arm on his knee and looked down at him, the Beretta hanging loose in his hand and casually aimed at the guy’s crotch. “Are you Dodge?”

The man swallowed hard, his breath labored beneath the weight of Clint’s body resting on his foot. He swiped a shaky hand through black, stringy hair. “M-Maybe.” His eyes were dilated and slightly unfocused as they darted between the two men. Patchy scruff mottled his jaw, giving him an unkempt look –which matched his clothes and shitty apartment. “What do you want?”

Clint glanced around the apartment before answering. A black barred door –much like one would find on a prison cell –was bolted closed over another regular door. The barking was coming from that room. “They let you keep your dogs here?”

“I pay extra,” the guy mumbled thickly. “Landlord don’t give a fuck as long as he gets his money.”

Clint nodded slowly. He glanced toward the other bedroom door –where the man had been trying to get to –and noted that one of the barking dogs was in there. And it wasn’t alone. The ruckus of a hissing, squalling cat echoed inside the room.

Clint stepped back, withdrawing his foot. “What the fuck is that?”

“Just getting the dog jacked up for a fight,” the guy mumbled.

“What?” Clint frowned.

“I’ll show you.” The man moved cautiously, crawling off the sofa.