Brainy and the Beast (29 page)

“Grant, look out!” Trusting my nephew, and the training that—unfortunately for me right then—preached a nonviolent solution as much as practicable, I launched myself at Jeff. My left foot slid on a loose pebble and bumbled my takeoff a tiny bit, but I have to say that rage and hate made up for a lot of things. They kept me on my trajectory.

Just as I was going to hit both him and Henry, Jeff loosened his hold on my man, like I knew the coward would. He was going to run.

With perfect timing, Grant grabbed Henry around the middle and tucked him into a strong hold. Grant hit the ground and rolled them both out of harm’s way.

I made sure my full body weight of a hundred and eighty pounds slammed into the thuggish teenager. Then I swooped my arms around, taking him to the ground with me. We hit with a
thud
, and I was extra pleased when I was able to bring my knee up into his gonads as we went down.

His high-pitched cry was a reward in itself, stopping his fight for a few seconds. I eased backward, sitting up and straddling his waist. Ensconced there in my egotistical high of easy victory, I was gulping in air and heard Grant call out a warning too late. Hastings grunted and groaned but was tough enough to ram his left knee into my spine.

“Fuck!” I’d forgotten that the kid was a football player, and the little dick had certainly recovered fast. Cringing at the pain blasting through me, I rolled off him and flailed before scrambling to my feet. He followed me right up, though I was mighty glad to see he was hunched over and cupping his balls.

“What’s the matter, Jeffy? You get your balls busted by a little gay boy?” There was no way I wasn’t going to grind that into him over and over until he was sick of hearing it.

“Fuck off.” It was weak, but he obviously still had enough breath to be a dickhead.

“Nicholas.” Henry sounded winded but okay. “I’ve called the police too. They’re already on the way.”

I tossed a glance at him to make sure he looked like he sounded. The urbane Dr. Love image was tarnished, as Henry held one hand to what must have been a sore back and the other raked shaking fingers through his tumbled hair. And there was a bruise forming on his left jaw, which pissed me off all the more.

Feelings bubbled through me, a cauldron of regret, sympathy, and fury vying with overwhelming worry and love. Time to put an end to this.

“You’re gonna pay for every bruise and hurt you put on my family, fuckwad.” I almost didn’t recognize my voice, it was so growly.

The kid snarled back, and I couldn’t imagine what kind of hate it took to get a guy in that kind of position. Once again he swiveled his head, seeking some kind of escape.

Well, he was going to get it, just not the kind he probably imagined. I took advantage of his Quasimodo posture and nailed him with a roundhouse kick that spun his head around. It made the most satisfying thud-smack sound, and it dropped him to the ground like a stone.

And I was
so
extra happy when his face bounced off the asphalt as he went down.

“
Yeah!
Way to go, Uncle Nick!” Grant’s shout of victory was drowned by the sound of police sirens rapidly approaching.

I ran to Henry, scooping him into a hug. He grunted in pain, and I reared back. “Are you okay?” I ran my fingers over his face, careful to barely touch on his jaw. “Baby, are you all right?” Now I could see the blue of his eyes, and one of them had a suspicious swelling along the outer edge. “Goddamn, I’d like to take that fucker down again, just for this.” I grazed his cheekbone with the tip of my index finger.

“Baby?” Henry stared at me.

“Nick?” I stared back. I could call him baby if he could call me Nick, right?

I wanted so badly to kiss him, but I was afraid of hurting him. I settled for running my hands and gaze over his arms and torso. He stopped me before I could crouch down to check his legs.

“For God’s sake, I’m all right.” He was cranky right then, not that I could blame him.

“I just…just need to make sure you’re okay.”

We locked eyes again, and I could see a storm of emotion swirling in his. God knows what was showing on my face.

“Man, that was so
cool
!” Grant’s voice broke the invisible thread between Henry and me. Shawn had returned, and the two kids were once again side by side. My nephew was practically hopping up and down; probably his tight grip on Shawn’s hand was the only thing holding him in one spot. “Uncle Nick, those guys were waiting for us. Can you believe it?” His words ran together in his excitement. “They wanted to go after Shawn. They knew she was with me. Do you think they followed us here?”

It had felt like Henry and I were communicating without saying a word, and I had to shake my head to get my brain back online. “Um. Probably, Grant. I guess the police will have to find that out for sure.”

Two police cars jerked to a stop near us, blocking the parking lot drive lane. Cops spilled out of the vehicles.

“Henry tried to stop them, Uncle Nick. When they wanted to take Shawn.”

I’d been about to walk toward the approaching cops. When I heard that, I jerked to a stop and swung my head toward Henry. “You could have been killed.”

The explanation tumbled out of Grant at high speed, but I managed to get it all. “Yeah. Yeah. They came up on Shawn’s side of the car, and Henry was still here. He was sitting in his car. He saw them coming, and he jumped out of his car and came running over.”

One of the men in blue—actually it was a woman in blue—walked up to me with her hand on her sidearm. “Sir, tell me what’s going on here?”

“Oh, we are so going to go over that, Doc,” I assured Henry. To the officer, I said, “These three assholes attacked my nephew, Grant, his girlfriend, Shawn”—I gestured to the two kids, then reached for Henry—“and Henry Travis. My boyfriend.” I slid my hand down and linked my fingers with his.

The look of surprise on Henry’s face hurt; I felt a corresponding pang in my stomach. Kind of made me feel like I’d been letting him down before.
Was I a dick or what?
I shivered, suddenly feeling the December cold. I yanked my zipper all the way up to my throat.

“Hey!” Grant pointed to where one of the three asshats was trying to crawl behind a car. “Don’t let him get away!”

One of the police officers obligingly detoured around the back of the car and shepherded the weasel with a couple pokes of his nightstick.
Nice
. I smirked upon seeing that.

“What’s your name, sir?” The cop watched the byplay out of the corner of her eye, then turned her attention on me again. “Show me some ID, please.” She included Henry in that instruction.

“Sure, Officer—” I squinted to read her name badge. “Paulson. Here.” I dug my driver’s license out of my wallet. “Babe.” I tugged at Henry’s sleeve. “Let me get your ID, okay?” I slid my hand inside his overcoat and found his narrow wallet. Well, I called it a wallet. He called it a billfold.

He caught my hand as I pulled it out. “I’m not an invalid, Nicholas. I can do it.”

Ew
. He still sounded testy. I didn’t know if that boded well. I tried to catch his expression, but he had his head down, searching his wallet. Billfold. What the fuck ever.

While Henry handed over his driver’s license, I launched into the story as far as I knew it, with Grant jumping in every few sentences. Our telling was colorful, with plenty of profane expletives about the attackers, and Grant and I shared a grin when we reported the takedowns play-by-play.

“And you, sir?” Paulson directed her attention to Henry as she jotted down notes. “What were you doing here?”

Henry cleared his throat, fingers rebuttoning his long coat. He hesitated a long moment. “Well, that would seem to be the question of the hour.” His eyes shifted but never quite met mine as he continued. “I was here to meet Nicholas. I’d, well, I’d been inside and had returned to my car to head home.”

“Yeah, ’cause after you and Uncle Nick argued, you didn’t want to hang around anymore, right?”

That was my nephew. Ever so helpful. I glared at him, and the boy blushed, ducking his head.

Henry was nodding in agreement, the shit. “Yes, Grant. That is what happened.”

“Really? Then how come you were still here, Doc, when the kids got outside?” I arched a brow, waiting for him to tell me what he’d been doing hanging around the dojang. “When you stormed out of there, I was pretty sure you weren’t coming back.”

“Trouble in paradise, boys?” Another cop, this one with a smarmy grin on his face, ran assessing eyes over Henry and me. The glint in his eye wasn’t exactly friendly.

I could spot the homophobe in him a mile away. “Fuck off.”

“Nicholas!”

I shot a surly glance at Henry. “What? He started it.”

Paulson stepped forward. A third squad car pulled in, and she gestured toward it. “Blakely, make sure those three are processed and read their rights. Then get them loaded up.” She gave the bigoted cop a pointed stare before coming back to me. “And you, settle down. You can’t go around telling cops to fuck off.”

“But that guy’s an asshat, isn’t he, Uncle Nick?”

This time when Grant butted in, I gave him a thumbs-up and a crooked grin. Paulson just snorted as she jotted a couple of more notes.

Now, seeing my nephew, all tall and lean, bent protectively over Shawn, I realized I hadn’t heard more than a word or two out of her since the whole thing started. “Shawn? Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She had her head buried against Grant’s chest and was tucked under his arm. When she did no more than shake her head rapidly, I grew concerned.

“Shawn?” I ran a consoling hand down her back. “Sweetheart? Did they hit you? You were on the ground when I ran over here, but I couldn’t see if you were hurt.”

“Jeff grabbed her before I could get around the car.” Grant sounded a little shaken again as he reported this.

I saw Paulson step closer, an alert look on her face.

“He shoved her up against the car and was really yelling at her, calling her all kinds of bad things.” He tucked the girl closer to his chest. “Then those two other dickheads, Stevie and Jonas, grabbed me.” Grant sent a hate-filled glance at the three youths who were now handcuffed and being escorted into squad cars. “Th-then Henry jumped out of his car. You kind of know the rest.” He shrugged awkwardly.

“Um, I really don’t know the rest, do I, Doc?” I narrowed my stare at Henry, who by this time had his arms crossed and was sporting a somewhat pugnacious frown.

“I simply attempted to assist these two children when those bullies attacked them.” He directed his attention toward the light pole some distance away. “I have to say that this might not have happened if this lot were properly lit, Officer. There are all too many darkened areas here where miscreants can hide.”

I coughed into my hand. Paulson didn’t look too happy to be lectured by the doc.

“I’ll be sure to let the owners know,” she said briefly. “Then what happened?”

Now it was Henry’s turn to look a little uncomfortable. “Well. When I saw Grant’s friend being accosted, I knew I had to do something. I…I don’t know any martial arts, like Grant and Nicholas do, but I couldn’t sit in my car while this poor girl was surrounded by those thugs. God. She’s half their size!”

“It’s because I’m Jewish.”

That got our attention. Shawn’s voice was low but loud enough for the four of us to hear her. I saw a flicker of sympathy flash across Paulson’s stern features before she moved closer to the young girl.

“This happen before, Miss—” She consulted her notebook. “Ginsburg?”

Standing up straight, Shawn pushed far enough away from Grant to face the policewoman. “Yes. Lots of times. In school and when I’m on the bus going home.” Biting her lip, she fidgeted for a few seconds. “He. They. Sometimes they just hassle me when I…um…” She sent an appeal to Grant.

He moved forward half a step, putting his arm around her again. “When her father slaps her around.” Looking older than fourteen, he stared challengingly at Officer Paulson. “That happens a lot, and nobody does anything about it.”

Henry grunted, the sound one of disgust. I nodded at him in complete agreement.

Darting a searching look my way, Paulson stopped writing for a moment, focusing on Shawn. “How long has this been going on?”

While the two kids filled the officer in, I turned to face my lover. “So. You jumped right in there, didn’t you?” I kept my voice low.

“It appears I did.” Henry’s lips twisted as he looked over my shoulder.

“You could have been seriously hurt. Killed, maybe.”

“I doubt that.”

I reached for his chin, turning it with two fingers. “Henry. One of those freaks had a knife.”

It was his turn to shrug irritably. Even in the shadows I could see the annoyed gleam in his eyes. “You’re acting like you care, and I’m not quite sure why.”

Startled at the way he threw that at me, I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

“I don’t even know why I was hanging around here, waiting. What did I hope to accomplish? You’re busy with that—that instructor fellow. So what was I thinking? Why didn’t I just go home? I wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this.” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Oh, great. And here he is again,” Henry muttered sourly.

What? He was looking over my shoulder, his expression most definitely not happy.

“What the hell’s going on?”

When I heard Nestor’s voice behind me, I groaned.
Fuck.

“Are you guys all right?” Nestor, still in his dobok but wearing street shoes, came to a stop next to us. He sent a wide-eyed stare at the three squad cars and the numerous police officers milling around.

I’d say it was a quiet night in Lake Forest except that most nights were quiet around here. This had to be one of the most exciting calls for the cops in recent memory.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” Yeah, maybe I was short with him, but the guy had already fucked with Henry’s head enough. Even if he hadn’t known it. Although, remembering the look on Nestor’s face back inside the dojang, I wasn’t sure he was so innocent.