Two Sides of the Same Coin (37 page)

“Try and remember next time, okay.” He clapped me on the shoulder and finally smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are we suspects in Porky gettin’ shot?” Mike asked the question I was too shamefaced to ask.

“No, son, you’re not, neither one of you. The bullet going into the porch support shows it was fired from down toward the road. It’s the same with the one that killed Porky. They look to be a different caliber than your rifle, Jeff.”

“Are you gonna do ballistics tests on ’em, Sheriff?”

He looked at me. “What you thinkin’, Jeff?”

“I just wonder if the gun that fired the shot that killed Porky and the ones at me was the same one used to kill Pedro.”

“We’ll see about that. We’ll also see if it was the same gun that shot Wayne and shot at you, Mike.”

“How long will the tests take?”

“We gotta send the evidence out to Seattle. With all the backups and red tape, it’ll take a while. Maybe since there have been two murders, they might move their asses a bit. I’d guess it should take about two weeks. One other thing, I know you don’t lock the door, Jeff, but you boys may consider doing that from now on. That biker was able to walk right in. If he wasn’t such a screwup, he might have got clean away with your Blu-ray player and computer and anything else he could have grabbed.”

“Do you even know what his real name was?” Mike asked.

“It was Mortimer. Mortimer Andrews. He has a record about a mile long. Mostly assault, drunk and disorderly, theft, some drugs, he was never big time. I reckon nobody’s got to worry about him any more.”

“What a waste of a life.” Mike had a real sad look on his face. This was somethin’ new I was just noticing about Mike. The guy was out to get us, died trying, and Mike was such a decent guy he felt compassion for him. I thanked my lucky stars again he was with me.

“Boys, it’s almost four in the morning. I’m gonna head home. I’ll have your statements typed up. Can you stop by the office day after tomorrow and read ’em, make any corrections, and then sign ’em?”

“Sure, we can do that.”

“Any word on your truck, Jeff?”

“Not yet, I’ve got to call tomorrow. I reckon by then, they should have an estimate on the repair and the time it will take.”

“Okay. Well, good night, Jeff, Mike. You boys try and get some rest after all you went through tonight.”

“Good night, Sheriff.” We both said that. Mike followed him out and locked the door. He came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Jeffy, let’s drink enough to get to sleep.”

“Sounds like a great idea. Hey, buddy, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for runnin’ out there like that. Sheriff was right. I need to think of you. I am really sorry.”

“Well, you did look awful cute all bare assed out there crouchin’ behind my truck.” His joking answer really got to me. It made me feel more choked up than I would’ve thought possible.

He handed me a glass of whiskey. I held it up to him and said, “To us, buddy. I must be the most goddamned lucky guy on earth to have you with me. Honestly, Mike, I don’t know what I done to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” I was beginning to get all choked up. I chugged the whiskey quick. Mike did the same and then put his arms around me; I leaned into him. My head was on his chest, and he just kept rubbing my hair and murmuring to me.

“It’s okay, Jeffy. I’m right here. I ain’t gonna let you go. You’re just too damned important to me. It’s okay. If you need to cry, just let it out. I’m here for ya. You got a buddy here who loves you more than words can tell. I’m here.” I was shaking against him. A sob escaped here and there, but for the most part, it was a silent, wordless keening from deep inside. All the fear, the exhilaration, the danger, the anger, the worry of the night just seemed to hit me. He held me for a while, just saying over and over words that soothed and calmed me. I’d always been the big guy, the protector, the guardian, the warrior. Now my buddy was taking care of me; he had been all night. The interesting thing was it was okay. In fact, it felt really nice. For once, I could let go. I could lean on my partner. I finally pulled up and looked at him. The look he gave me was so sweet. I could see his heart in the way his eyes shone at me, the caring in them.

“Mike, buddy. I really love you. I can’t even tell you how much. Words just don’t do it.”

“Shush. I see it every time you look at me, Jeffy. I always thought I needed you. I just realize now we need each other. Like your dad said, two sides of the same coin.” He kissed me gently and tenderly. I could taste the medicinal bite of the whiskey on his breath. It was nice. We broke apart and he reached for the bottle.

“Another shot?”

“Hell yeah, maybe another three.” He poured. We did end up taking three more shots. We’d just gone five rounds with Jack Daniels. We headed upstairs; by this time we were both staggering a bit. We stripped and got into bed.

“Jeff, tonight I’m holdin’ you. You need that.” His arms went around me. Although I was pretty drunk, I was sober enough to know I was a lucky man.

“Night, Mike, we really done used up this day.”

“Sleep well, Jeff.”

Chapter Fifteen

I
HADN
’
T
slept well. I kept having nightmares, seeing bullets flying toward me in slow motion and I was frozen to the spot, I couldn’t move to dodge them. The worst part of the nightmare was just before the bullet hit. I could see a look of pain and concern on Mike’s face that just about broke my heart. I’d see that look, and then there’d be an unbelievably painful flash of light, and then darkness. That same fucking nightmare kept playing over and over and over. It was like a CD with a scratch that got caught on one little piece. Every time it would happen, I’d wake with a start. Mike said I shouted out a few times too. Great, not only was I keeping myself awake, but I was preventing him from sleeping too. I’d offered to sleep in another room so he could get some rest, and he just told me to shut up and try to sleep. He went on to say, “We’re in this for the long haul, Jeffy. For better or worse, don’t you remember? What type of a partner or friend would I be to let you go through this alone?” Finally about seven thirty in the morning, I dozed off. It felt real good to have his arms wrapped around me. I woke up about ten. Mike was still holding me. I felt like a chicken with its neck wrung. My feet hurt like hell from the cuts, I had scrapes all over my knees and arms from diving into the gravel behind Mike’s truck, and I was so dehydrated from the whiskey my mouth felt like it was stuffed with old sweat socks. Dry old sweat socks. I had a headache to end all headaches. To sum it up, I felt like shit. I tried to stretch, but it just made my head feel like it was hit by a lightning bolt. Mike nuzzled the back of my neck.

“You finally wakin’ up, sleepy head?”

“I feel like somethin’ the cat drug in.”

“You had a pretty rough night. I was beginnin’ to worry about you. You kept wakin’ up shoutin’. Wanna talk about it?”

“I reckon it might help. I need some water and coffee and maybe some greasy food.”

“I’ll tell ya what, Jeffy, you go wash up, brush your teeth, and try and drink about three big glasses of water. Some aspirin wouldn’t hurt either. I’ll make us breakfast.”

“You got it, buddy. Thanks!” I got up and walked into the bathroom. After four aspirin washed down with several glasses of water, I brushed my teeth. A shower sounded real good, so I turned on the water and stepped under the hot spray. It felt fantastic. I just let the hot water run over my head and shoulders. Finally when I’d used up all the hot water, I turned it off, and then dried off, got dressed, and headed down to the kitchen. Mike was just finishing up breakfast. He’d made huevos rancheros, cooked up some spicy beans from some leftovers in the fridge, and made strong coffee. I sat down and mumbled my thanks. First forkful of the eggs showed me he hadn’t stinted on the jalapenos.

“Good grub, buddy. Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, Jeffy. I like doin’ stuff for you.”

I managed a smile at him. It wasn’t too hard. “I can’t figure out why I feel so shitty. I reckon maybe I’m a bit hung over, but it ain’t only that.”

“After I got shot at, I felt all shaky and almost hung over too. It could be the aftereffects of all that adrenaline, or nerves, or whatever. Plus you were pretty cold last night. Both the sheriff and I were really worried. I reckon you’d gone into stage two hypothermia. I remember a class we had at the ranch for kids they sent me to, about the outdoors. Stage two is where it starts getting serious and your core body temperature drops. I had the hot tub all heated up. We were about to carry you in there. Those nightmares last night didn’t help ya either. You were tossin’ and turnin’, moanin’, and talkin’ in your sleep constantly. Ya even shouted out a few times.”

“I am really sorry I ruined your night’s sleep, buddy.”

“I already told ya, no worries on that. I’m always gonna be here for ya. You take care of me lots. I feel safe with you. For the first time in my life, I feel confident, not like some dumb loser hick. That’s because of you. Now, do you want to talk about the nightmares? It might help to get it off that beautiful chest of yours.” I just looked at him for a minute. I must’ve been a saint in a previous life to deserve this man. He grinned at me and waited for me to say somethin’.

“Thanks, buddy. I feel kinda like a wimp goin’ all to pieces last night. I’m sorry to dump that all on you.”

“Anytime. If you can’t share your fears and bad times with me, who can ya share ’em with? It’s no good to leave that stuff bottled up inside either. Believe me, I know, so about them nightmares?”

“It was like a tape stuck on one part, just playin’ over and over in my mind. It was really freaky.” I gave Mike a few more details of the nightmare, but didn’t really want to relive it here and now. He understood.

“If ya think of it though, it makes sense. You were pretty shook up last night. You got through by the skin of your teeth twice. It’s probably gonna take some time for you to work that out in your head.”

“Reckon so.”

“About you feelin’ like a wimp, as I see it, you’re a major stud kinda fearless like, you know? Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ scared, or cryin’, or usin’ somebody’s shoulder to lean on. Somethin’ I realized, Jeffy, when we first started explorin’ bein’ together, you’re a strong guy, and I don’t mean just physical strength. You’re an alpha dude. You look at the two of us. You lead, I follow. You’re more aggressive than I am. In the sack, you pitch, I catch. You take care of me. How many times have I cried on your shoulder? How many times have you held me and let me know everything is gonna be all right? I realized right quick that followin’ you, takin’ good advantage of your bein’ there for me, hell, even bein’ a bit submissive in bed and gettin’ fucked all the time don’t make me any less of a man. I come to know you and realized that you need another real man to be with you. Not some metrosexual like Robert. But a guy, someone who isn’t afraid of a little dirt, or shit on their boots, or who drinks, cusses, and dips. Someone that you can play football with, hunt and fish with, just to buddy around with; it makes me feel right special to be that man. You’re my stud, Jeff. And the fact that I can be submissive to you in bed, and follow you around and let you lead, makes the two of us fit real good. And if you need some comfort, a shoulder, or just a pair of arms to hold you, I’m there for ya. And it sure don’t make you any less of a man, any less of a real stud. Hell, even alpha dudes gotta cry sometime.”

That was probably the longest speech I’d ever heard Mike make. It touched me deep down. I knew what he was saying was right. I also realized that he was wise beyond his years. I smiled at him and put my hand on his knee.

“Thanks, buddy. You’re incredible, you realize that? I probably am the luckiest man on earth to have you.”

“Just don’t forget that. Now eat up and feel better.” We both laughed. I leaned over, put my arm around his shoulders, and gave him a kiss. He responded.

After a gentle minute or so, I leaned my forehead into his and whispered, “Thanks again. You’re a good man, Mike.”

“Okay now, enough of the sappy stuff, eat!” We both dug into the spicy eggs and beans. I felt so much better.

“Mike, you up for a trip into Winslett?”

“I was gonna suggest that to you. Let’s get a workout in, and head out. You can talk to Mary Grace and find out about your exhibition. I’ll clean up in here, and you can call about your truck.”

“You cooked; I should clean up.”

“Nope. Call about your truck. I want to go back to bein’ driven around by you.”

I headed into the living room and picked up the phone. The shop was in Wenatchee. They’d already contacted my insurance, and I was in luck. I was covered. Sheriff Johnston had faxed the insurance company a copy of the police report, and they were just waiting on the go ahead from me. I was getting four new tires, a new windshield, passenger and driver side windows, and a whole lot of work under the hood with wires and belts. All the damage made me mad as hell, and not even at Porky, but at the guy he was calling boss. If I could get my hands on him, there wouldn’t be much left of him to charge with rustling and murder.

I thought about that for a few minutes and then realized that breakfast, Mike, and his pep talk had done me a world of good. I had to chuckle to myself. Alpha dude, eh? I liked that. And who’d have ever thought Mike, my buddy liked being submissive. That got me going; I felt a stirring below the belt. Trying hard to think about our upcoming workout I headed up the stairs. Mike was already up there changing. As I walked in, he yelled, “catch,” and threw somethin’ at me. It was a jockstrap. I think they’re about the most uncomfortable thing devised, but if Mike got turned on by it, I was happy to wear it.

“Wear that for me, Jeff, please?” I walked over to him and put it right in his face.

“You gonna be a good boy if I do wear it?” I could see he really liked that; his workout shorts tented out almost immediately.

“I will, Jeff, I’ll be really good.” I stripped and put it on and then pulled on my workout clothes.