Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude (8 page)

“No! I mean, no, sir.”

That’s sort of the truth.

“I don’t think I need to reiterate that availing yourself of the sex worker’s services in your off time is grounds for suspension?”

Parker inhaled sharply. “Sir, with all due respect, I take my job very seriously and I would never break the law or take advantage of any of the worker’s…services.”

His sergeant eyed him carefully before he spoke again. “You do a good job and I’ve never had cause to doubt you. But you might want to be careful. A few days ago he got away from you—saving him from an arrest—and tonight you’re holding his hand and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. People talk.”

Parker bristled at the ‘sweet nothings’ remark, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it without raising his sergeant’s ire. It wouldn’t do him or Slade any good to get his superior all worked up.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. Now go finish up.”

Parker went through the motions of following up, questioning a couple of people who second unit support had located in the immediate area. No one had seen where the men had gone, and only one person was able to give a vague description. Parker already knew damn well that it was the work of Julio’s rival, Alexei. He surreptitiously glanced Slade’s way as he was loaded up then transported—sirens screaming as the ambulance tore out of the lot then down the street.

Once they’d wrapped everything up, he checked his watch before getting back in the cruiser. It was past three a.m. He still had almost three more hours on his shift. Then he’d have about an hour of reports to do back at the station, especially because of what had occurred.

At least four hours before I can check on Slade.

“You in a big hurry?”

Parker groaned. “Darren, just ask me.”

“Okay. What’s the story with that kid?”

He pressed his lips together, trying to decide how to explain what was going on to his best friend, even when he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either.

“There’s not so much of a story as there is a…concern.”

“That’s too cryptic for me. Try again?”

“Um.” Parker found that he wanted to talk about it after all, but couldn’t figure out the best way to put it. “There was something about how scared he was the other night. I had the sense that he needed help, that he was someone who deserved a second chance to get it right. That maybe he’d been forced into a life that he’d never asked for.”

“Parker,” Darren’s voice was gentle. “Almost everyone we run across in our line of work could fit into that category. What made him stand out?”

Fighting the urge to snap at Darren, he pondered his friend’s words. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already mulled over the exact same thing, but talking about it out loud might give him more clarity.

“I guess I’m drawn to him.”

There. It’s out in the open.

“As in attracted?”

“I’m…not sure. Maybe. But it’s more than that. I think.”

“Holy Christ, this is a mess. I won’t question what you find attractive, that’s a very personal thing, but your lives couldn’t be more different than if you’d planned it that way. What do you honestly hope will come from all of this?”

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he knew what the answer was. “Nothing.”

He sighed in resignation as it dawned on him that contemplating anything other than that was pointless. Slade didn’t need Parker. He needed help to get set up in a new life and time to figure things out on his own.

Darren reached over and gave Parker’s forearm a quick squeeze before letting go.

“You’ll find someone who’s right for you eventually. I know losing Brett is hard, but don’t turn to this kid to make yourself feel better.”

A surge of anger swept through him. Even if he was confused about his true feelings toward Slade, it had nothing to do with Brett or trying to make himself feel better. It wasn’t about him trying to find someone. It just was.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

* * * *

As exhausted as he was, he had to stop by the hospital and check on Slade. He’d promised him. When he got there, he was relieved that there was police protection outside Slade’s room. He spotted Beau over by the nurse’s station, talking quietly on his cell. Parker waited until he was finished before approaching him. Beau’s surprise was obvious when his gaze fell on Parker.

“Parker? Do you have additional info for me?”

This could be awkward.

“Hey, Beau. No, I wish I did.” He ran his hand across the top of his head, looking around to make sure no other detectives or cops were nearby. Another awful thought occurred to him. “Jesus, are you here because he’s…?”

“Oh, no. No. He should be okay eventually. It’s a good thing you guys got there when you did, or else… Well, anyway, there was another one of Julio’s workers killed tonight. A woman.”

“Jesus. Did she have really short hair that was a bright blue?”

“No, long and blonde.” Beau frowned. “That was specific. You know something you’re not telling me?”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t think it’s relevant. I just happened to see her come by to pick up Slade when I was…”

Jesus. This keeps sounding worse and worse.

Beau raised his eyebrows. “When you were what?”

“Um…” Parker glanced around to check again that they were alone. When he looked back at Beau, his stare was boring into Parker. “Shit.”

“Let’s go grab a coffee downstairs in the cafeteria. We should have plenty of privacy there.”

Parker couldn’t help but take a peek in the direction of Slade’s room. That was the reason he’d stopped by the hospital.

“I’d like to stop in and see him first real quick.” He met Beau’s eyes. “I promised him.”

Instead of the reproach he’d been expecting, Beau’s expression softened.

“He’s doped up on painkillers right now. He should be out for a while. But we shouldn’t be long. You can go sit with him then.”

Parker nodded, swallowing hard.

After they took the elevator downstairs and got what turned out to be a surprisingly good cup of coffee, Beau indicated to a chair at one of the small tables. They both took their seats and Parker waited for Beau to lay into him about Slade. He’d certainly already gotten it from all sides.

“Before I ask you any more questions about what you know in regards to Julio’s people, I gotta talk to you about something else. This is all off the record from one man to another. I’ve seen kids like Slade more than I would have cared to in the course of my job. A lot of them end up dead. Sometimes it’s drugs, sometimes it’s a bad trick, sometimes it’s the pimp. Regardless, a lot of them might not have ended up where they are if their families hadn’t rejected them or thrown them out because they’re gay. That’s what happened to my brother.”

Parker was startled. Not that he and Beau hung out all that much, but in the years they’d known one another, he’d never once mentioned a brother. When he really thought about it, he couldn’t remember him saying much of anything about his family at all.

“Your brother?”

“Yeah.” Beau lowered his eyes and fiddled with the paper handle of the disposable coffee cup. “I went into the service to get away from them when I was eighteen. All I could think about when I was a teenager was getting the hell out of there. I couldn’t fucking wait. Unfortunately, all I was really thinking about was me. Nicholas was twelve when I left. He was much more outspoken than I was, much more fun loving.” Beau sipped his drink then met Parker’s gaze again. “I came to visit at Christmas when Nicholas would’ve been fifteen. He’d already been gone for about three months by then. They had no idea where he’d gone and they said it was for the best, that he was ‘one of those’.”

“Oh Jesus, Beau. That’s awful. But he was a minor. Couldn’t they have gotten in trouble for that?”

“Oh sure. But they didn’t kick him out, he ran away because of how vicious I’m sure they’d been to him. They’d done their duty by reporting him as a runaway, but that was a joke. There’re so many runaways each year, the police don’t have the resources to hunt them all down—you know all about that.”

Parker grimaced. He
did
know.

“They never put any effort into helping him. When I told them I was going to search for him they said he wasn’t worth my time or effort, that it was better for the family if he wasn’t around anymore. That was when I told them that I was ‘one of them’ too and that they could go fuck themselves. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since.” He chuckled with no humor. “And they haven’t put any more effort into finding me than they did Nicholas.”

“So what happened to him?”

Beau’s forehead wrinkled and he dropped his gaze again. “He was killed on the streets. Another homeless guy attacked him over a twenty-dollar bill that he claimed was his.” Beau pressed his lips together then wiped his hand across his mouth. After a moment, he sat back then looked up at Parker. “If you’re interested in helping Slade at all, I’ll do whatever I can to support that, other than getting directly involved. I only ask that you take his fragile emotional state into mind. Don’t give him hope where there is none. Give him whatever you’re capable of giving. I’ll always regret leaving Nicholas behind.”

Beau’s story crushed Parker. “Of course, Beau. I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Okay, that’s all I needed to hear. Now. About the girl with the short blue hair?”

* * * *

He’d never been a drug user, but, man, whatever was going on with him had to be some heavy shit. He was in his body but the edges of his skin seemed fluid. There was also the sensation that he was lounging on a billowy cloud. Trying to open his eyes, he was met with resistance from his right one. He could barely move it at all. It was like trying to open a door that had a bunch of clothes blocking it on the other side. His mom used to get so mad at him when he wouldn’t pick up after himself and she could barely get into his room.

At the thought of his mom he tensed up and realized that there were things hooked into his arms and hand. He heard beeps and a light snore. When he turned his head he spotted someone in a chair near…

I’m in a hospital bed.

On a loud wail he recalled bits of what had happened to him. He could still feel their blows raining down on his body—over and over until each harsh punch or kick melded with the other, the agony combining into one large hurt.

“Slade! Shh, wake up, honey, it’s Parker. You’re safe, hold still. You’ll hurt yourself more.”

It can’t be him. Why is he here?

Parker hovered over him, his brow creased with worry. Words drifted back to him from right after the attack.

‘I’ll see you later at the hospital… Promise you’ll fight to hang on.’

“Sir, please.”

Parker’s handsome face was replaced by an older woman with hair that was so pale he couldn’t tell in the dim lighting if it was blonde or gray. She fiddled with some tubes that extended from his limbs to an IV pole that held a couple of different plastic bags of liquid. Another cord ran to the beeping machine. He tried to get his mind to come up with the word for it.

Monitor.

He hoped it was the drugs he was obviously filled with that were making it hard to think and not the beating that had turned his head to mush. Once she’d finished fussing over him, he heard her address Parker.

“The doctor said it was okay for you to stay until he woke up, but he can’t handle too much right now. You’ve got ten minutes, understand?”

“I understand.”

Slade watched in disbelief as Parker dragged the chair over—which he’d obviously been sleeping in—until it was right next to him. Another memory drifted back to him.

I wonder if he’ll hold my hand again?

“Are you in any pain? Because they gave you this button here…”

Parker gently cradled his hand then placed a small plastic object in it—yet another thing connected to some type of cord. Slade watched as Parker positioned it as if to make it as easy as possible for Slade to operate.

“If the pain becomes too difficult for you to tolerate, press this red part and it’ll give you another dose.”

Parker seemed nervous, his gaze flitting around the room. Finally he settled his eyes back on Slade, but he pulled away. Parker clasped his fingers together and placed his hands in his lap. Slade watched them as if he were hypnotized. In his imagination they were strong yet gentle. They would never strike him or try to intentionally hurt him. They would comfort and cherish him. He raised his chin to see Parker staring intently at him.

“Could you…?”

He choked the last word out and couldn’t say any more. Parker jumped to his feet then grabbed a large plastic cup with a straw sticking out of the cover over it. He brought it to Slade’s lips.

“Go easy, honey. Not too fast.”

Slade took a couple of small swallows. He could track the stream of cold water as it trailed down his throat then landed in his stomach where it seemed to dissipate. Parker eased back into the chair after he’d set the cup down on the stand next to Slade’s bed.

“Your hand.” Slade had managed to croak it out.

Parker looked down at the body part in question. “My hand?”

“You didn’t… Didn’t need to pull it away.”

He was still too loopy to know whether he’d blushed or if he cared that he’d been so brazen. As it was, he wasn’t even entirely sure that any of it was really happening. Parker leaned closer then gathered Slade’s hand with both of his, wrapping it safely up. Maybe it was the painkillers again, but a surge of emotion rose and he couldn’t stop warm tears from spilling down his cheeks.

“Oh, shh. Please, honey, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Slade remembered more of what Parker had whispered to him after he’d been attacked.

“You said that before.”

Parker smiled at him. God, he was one fucking good-looking guy. And a genuinely decent one. Did such a thing even exist? He had to be gay, right? Slade didn’t think most straight dudes would be comfortable holding another guy’s hand, even if they were only being nice.