to—” She glared at him. “Dammit.”
“I didn’t get in front of his fist on purpose,” Gev said.
Margot sighed. “I know. I might as well tell you. A friend of mine from Miami City Ballet
is going to be in Clovis too. I told her about you.”
“Told her—” He lifted his head. “Why?”
“I want you to audition for her.”
Gev’s face pounded. “I can’t leave here, Margot.”
She came around and leaned against her desk, arms folded. “I know you say that. And I
understand about your family and wanting to be here for them. Are you happy here?”
Gev’s whole head pounded now. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “Yes.
No.” He thought of Chad’s body. “No.”
“You’ll never dance your best here. You’re gifted—very gifted. I don’t believe your family
would want to hold you back if they knew you had a chance to achieve greatness.”
Greatness? Him? He turned his head to look up at Margot, expecting her usual cynical
smirk. But the look on her face was one he’d seen only a few times. He had to admit a thrill ran
through him—even with his head pounding, face smarting, heart breaking. “I’m fine.”
“Stand up.”
“What?”
“I said, stand up.”
“He needs to go to the hospital,” Doris insisted.
“I’m
fine
.” He started to stand, taking care not to fall over. But a second later, he was
slammed back into the couch. Someone shrieked as the building rocked with the force of who
knew what. The lights flickered on and off, and his head screamed, but he pushed himself off the
couch.
No way. No fucking way.
The lights went out.
“Gev?”
“Right here, Doris.” He reached for where’d he last seen her, fumbling for her hand. She
grabbed his fingers tight. “Margot?”
“At the door.” A light switched on. Flashlight. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know.” Pulling Doris with him, he followed Margot out of the office. Other
dancers had made their way to the hallway too. “Everyone okay?” he asked, hoping he was the
only one hurt. His face throbbed; he’d left the ice bag behind.
“We’re fine,” Theo, one of the other dancers, said. Several people moved down the hall,
clutching each other. “What was that? Any idea?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better get out of here.”
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Carolyn Gray
Fighting dizziness, Gev trailed the others. What the hell was happening? They all moved
outside, Margot on the phone, talking to someone he assumed was the police. Doris still had hold
of his hand. He pulled his keys from his pocket with his other hand as he let her go.
“Where are you going?” she said.
“Out of here,” he said.
“But you’re hur—”
That’s when it happened. The explosion before was nothing next to this one. He felt it first
beneath his feet, up through his legs, a vibration that quickly reached its climax. With a
deafening roar and a ball of flame, the back of the building exploded. Gev was knocked off his
feet, slammed against a car. The parking lot filled with screams. A rain of dust and fiery debris
started to fall.
Hell had found them.
“
Run
!” someone yelled. A hand grasped his and yanked him forward. He stumbled, losing
the person’s grip, but kept moving, ducking as rubble fell from the sky and grit rained over him.
A few feet from him, he saw one of the other dancers crying, hysterical. He grabbed her.
“I’ve got you!” She sobbed against him, frozen to the spot; he picked her up, dizziness be
damned, and moved the hell out of there.
Another explosion, smaller than the first, nearly knocked him off his feet again. He
followed two others around behind a building. Hands pulled the woman from his arms.
“I’ve got her, Gev.”
People were shouting. Margot was yelling into her phone. Calls of “Over here!” and “Get
out of there!” filled the air. And the crying…
Gev stared around him, dazed. There’d been about twenty dancers and staff in the building
when he’d gone in to work with Francesca. There weren’t twenty here. He took a step back,
looking from dirty, tearstained face to face, horror filling him as the inescapable conclusion
about what had happened filled him.
This was his fault.
His
fault.
“I’ve got to go,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Anthony had taken off his shirt and turned it inside out to wrap it tightly around
Elizabeth’s arm where blood poured down. Gev took a step back. This was his fault.
“I’m sorry,” he said, edging away. He couldn’t look at them. His face ached, but the pain
in his heart was far, far worse.
He knew deep down, whoever had killed Chad had done this too.
“Gev? Where are you going?”
He escaped around the building, staring at what was left of the dance studio. It was
destroyed, the back half caved in. Rubble had cascaded over all the cars, breaking windshields,
denting hoods, and worse. Angry black smoke roiled into the sky. A fire engine—no, two—
roared past him, along with police cars, ambulance…
He turned around and began to walk down the street, his stomach churning, dizziness
playing havoc with the placement of his feet. He moved as fast as he could, putting distance
between himself and the hell behind him.
Long Way Home
115
“Dammit, Gev, answer your phone.” Lee slammed his cell down on the seat next to him.
Where the hell was Gev? Lee ran a hand over his head, furious with himself for not being there.
What a chickenshit he’d been, running off like a little kid to his mommy because he was scared.
And scared of what?
Gev, of course.
Lee checked himself in the mirror. He looked like crap. Exhausted, anxious, depressed as
hell. Worried to death. “I care, all right, dammit? Happy?” he said to his reflection. He grabbed
the cell again, hit redial, and waited. Nothing but endless ringing. This time he waited for the
voice mail.
Gev’s voice filled his ear. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let his thoughts go there. Gev
would be okay. He turned the car around a corner as the beep sounded. He nearly screeched to a
stop right there in the middle of the street as he stared, dumbfounded, at the column of smoke
choking the sky.
The note—the person who’d written it—was right. They had known this was going to
happen. Known the building was going to blow up, known he would be too late to stop—
Then he saw a figure walking down the side of the road toward him, cars zooming past too
damn close. “Gev, why the hell are you walking down the street?” he said into the phone and
snapped it shut. He drove up to Gev and stopped the car. Gev looked up, wavered when he saw it
was Lee, put a hand out to steady himself, and started to stumble. Realization kicked in—fucking
hell, he’d been hurt—and Lee bolted out of the car and grabbed him. Gev clutched his arms,
fingernails digging into him, but Lee didn’t care. Gev was alive.
He took Gev’s face between his hands, brushing his hair back. “Gev, Gev,” he said over
and over as he took in the black eye, the dust on his clothes, the fear rippling through him.
Gev started to pull away, but something in Lee’s voice made him stop. “Lee?”
“You’re really okay,” Lee said, and then a rush of relief ripped through him. Their gazes
locked, Gev’s eyes widened, and Lee bent down and kissed him. It was instinct. There was no
other reasonable course to take. He didn’t give a damn that they were standing on a busy street,
in broad daylight, or that this area of Dallas wasn’t exactly the gayborhood. Their lips met, and a
whimper—of relief or what, Lee didn’t know or care—escaped from Gev. Lee broke away, then
pulled Gev against him.
Gev held on tight, fingers digging into Lee’s back—a welcome pain, nothing compared to
what Gev was dealing with. He didn’t sob, didn’t cry—Gev wasn’t the type—but he held on,
clutching Lee like he was his lifeline.
“I’m so sorry,” Lee said, stroking his back. Gev melted into him, his body shaking. Lee’s
was too. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been there for you.” He breathed
in Gev’s scent—sweat and dust—ignoring the cars whisking by, yet grateful no one honked, no
one jeered. Or worse. “Gev.” Their bodies fit perfectly together.
“It’s not your fault.”
Lee pulled back. “I could’ve stopped it.”
“I always knew you were Superman.”
“I try. Sometimes I don’t do so good of a job.”
“We’d better get out of here,” Gev said. He pulled away, wavering unsteadily.
Lee didn’t want to let him go but knew Gev was right. “Easy. Sit down.”
116
Carolyn Gray
“I’m all right,” Gev protested but didn’t fight as Lee eased him down onto the curb.
“Like hell you are.” Lee reached out and pushed Gev’s head up, examining his face. “I
need to get you to a hospital.”
Gev closed his eyes. At that moment, the wail of a siren sounded. They turned to look in
the direction Gev had come. A fire truck tore around the corner, followed by an ambulance.
“Oh, God,” Gev whispered. Lee crouched down in front of him. “It’s all my fault.”
“What happened?”
Gev laughed softly. “Someone blew up the building. Can you believe that? Just like the
fucking movies. I don’t know if anyone’s hurt. Or dead.” He pressed his lips together. “No, I
know they’re hurt. I saw them. Elizabeth’s arm. Doris… Oh, God.”
“Let’s get you out of here. You can tell me what happened.”
“Someone wants me dead. Why the fuck do they want me dead? What the hell did I do?”
“I don’t know that you did anything.” Lee pulled Gev to his feet. “Can you walk to the
car?”
“Going to carry me?”
“If I have to.”
“No. I can make it that far, I think.”
Lee walked beside him anyway. He pulled the note out of his pocket and handed it to Gev
as he opened the car door. Gev sat down. “What is this?” he said, looking up at Lee.
“Hold on.” Lee shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. Once the doors were
locked, he said, “Some guy in a gray hoodie left it on my car.”
Gev stared at him, incredulous. “A hoodie. Crap.”
“I know.”
“Same guy?”
Lee hesitated. “Not sure. I don’t know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Take it to Detective Ramirez. I was at Ruby’s. No one knows about Ruby. I thought.
They set off the car alarm; we went outside and saw a guy at the end of the street. He’d been
running. He stopped and turned and looked at me before he took off.”
“Did you recognize him?”
A small punch in Lee’s stomach made him hesitate. “No, I don’t think so.”
Gev winced and touched his eye. “Fuck, this hurts.”
Lee reached out and turned Gev’s face to see the damage better. He looked like hell. “Did
a rock hit you?”
“A fist, actually.”
“Whose?”
“Would you believe Chad’s dad? I think it made him feel better. Knocked me out for a
while.”
“Is that why I couldn’t get hold of you?”
Long Way Home
117
Gev closed his eyes and leaned into Lee’s touch. A thrill shot through Lee, straight to his
groin. He let his hand fall to Gev’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. Gev’s eyes opened, dark
with fear. “This is shit, Lee. I’m not sure I can take much more of this.”
Lee moved his hand to the steering wheel, glanced in the mirror, then whipped the car
around. “That’s why I’m getting you out of here.”
“You kissed me.”
Lee moistened his lips. “Yeah. I did. Close your eyes. Try to relax.”
When Gev didn’t protest, Lee knew to be worried. Gev leaned back against the seat. Then
his eyes flew open. “I don’t want your friend to get hurt.”
“If that guy with the hoodie is behind this, he already knows where Ruby is.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s—” Lee hesitated, then sighed. “A good friend of my mother’s. A very good friend
of mine.”
Gev stared at him. “The house.”
“Yes.”
Gev looked out the window for a long minute, then finally back at Lee. “Thanks. For
coming back. You didn’t have to do that.”
Lee took a deep breath. Calmness had stolen over him. Now that he knew what he had to
do, now that Gev was safe and there were steps to be taken, he was okay, he realized. What
would happen, would happen. “I know I didn’t. I wanted to.”
“Because I’m Stef’s little brother,” Gev said ruefully.
Lee was never gladder to hit a red light. He hesitated, but only because he knew his next
words could—would—change things for them both. “No,” he said, then leaned over and kissed
Gev again. This time, the kiss went deeper; Gev opened his mouth, and their tongues danced.
Gev arched against Lee, then pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed. Lee touched his face again
and said, “I came back because of
you
.”
Gev stared at him, but traffic was hairy on this road, so Lee could only give him a quick
look as the light turned green. Gev said nothing, just leaned back and closed his eyes again. But
Lee could see the tension had eased a little, his shoulders relaxing. That showed Lee all he