Diversion 1 - Diversion (14 page)

The night turned unseasonably cool for Florida. The heat pinging through the ducts mimicked footfalls, the traffic outside might mask door slams. Lucky lay in the dark, imagining the worst from each and every sound.
Dont be silly. Most of the guys gunning for you are dead or in custody.And youre safe as long as youre hiding behind Walter.
He snickered, even in his dread, at the image of his wiry body completely hidden by a man three times his size.

He choked on his mirth, a cold tendril of fear twisting to life in his gut. His Christmas present this year would be to rejoin the world, no more Walters name on his lease. Once more hed be Lucky Lucklighter, the man whod reduced his sentence by throwing someone else under the bus.
I wont last a frigging year. Folks have long arms and longer memories. Ill need to disappear—for good.

An hour passed, then two. Desperate for sleep, he hollered, “Bo? Bo!”
Feet hit the floor in the living room, pounding down the hall. Luckys door flew open, a naked Bo plowing into it. “Whats wrong?” he asked, flipping on the overhead light. Sometime since Luckyd left the living room, Bo had stripped down.
Lucky blinked, squinting against the sudden brilliance. “Get in bed,” he commanded, flipping back the covers to reveal his own naked body.
“What? Man, its the middle of the freaking night and I gotta get up and go to work in a few hours. Im too tired, and you shoulda mentioned this sooner before I, ummm…took care of matters myself.”
While Lucky suffered through insomnia, Bo lay on the couch stroking himself? Naked? Fantasizing about what? Or who? Lucky momentarily entertained thoughts of the assless chaps of legend. The image drifted away, his mind too exhausted to hold on. “Im not gonna bother you. Now shut up and get in bed.”
Even with hands on hips and defiance in his eyes, Bo looked sexy as hell. “I am not a teddy bear.” Not many people managed to pull off “intimidating” in their birthday suits.
“Never said you were. Now get under the mother fucking covers and lets get some sleep.”
Wafting out a long-suffering sigh, Bo flipped off the light and crawled up the comforter from the endof the bed. “Keep your hands to yourself, big boy. I mean it…Im only here to sleep.”
“Scouts honor.”
His attempt at sincerity earned Lucky a derisive laugh. Which idea did Bo scoff at: Luckys having once been a boy scout, or him claiming to possess any form of honor?
He reached across the expanse of sheets, pulling Bo away from the edges of the queen-sized mattress to a closeness easily manageable on a bed half the size. Bo struggled briefly, grumbling out a token protest, and finally relaxed into the embrace. When his breathing calmed to a steady inout, Lucky whispered, “Goodnight, Teddy.”
Bo growled, “I heard you!”

“Its morning already? Did I oversleep?” Lucky blinked hard, disbelieving that hed slept soundly through the night—again. The “teddy bear” hed acquired must exude some kind of sleep chemical.

Bo raised his head far enough to see the bedside clock. “No, its six oclock. Shut up and go back to sleep. You may get the day off, but I start work at the clinic in a few hours.”

Up at six? Without a court order? Lucky rolled over, morning wood pressing dangerously close to Bos ass. “Good morning, sunshine.” He prodded Bos cheeks with his dick.

“It aint
that
good a morning.” Bo slapped at Lucky, pulling the bedcovers tighter around his shoulders.
Lucky waited a second and prodded again, pulling the covers down.
“Im your damned teddy bear, remember? Quit molesting the stuffed animal.” Bo grabbed the covers and pulled them back up. “Now leave me alone and let me sleep.”
Since mere suggestion didnt work, Lucky tried whining. “But I got a stiffie.”
Bo huffed and shot out the bed, turning an evil glare on Lucky. “Sounds like a personal problem to me. And if you follow me out to the living room, I swear Ill rip that thing youre poking me with out by the roots!”
In the absence of a warm body to relieve his lust, Lucky took matters into his own hands, falling promptly back asleep afterward.
He woke up with a hand shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Lucky, you awake?”
“I am now,” he grumbled, faced smashed against his pillow muffling his words. The rich aroma of coffee took the edge off his ire, and he turned his head toward the scent, dragging his eyelids open. His favorite mug sat steaming on the nightstand. “You said to fuck off and let you sleep. Now youre waking me up why?”
“Well, its your fault I woke up in the first place and I couldnt get back to sleep. New job jitters. Run with me and Ill call it even.”
What the hell?
Lucky rolled into a sitting position, grabbing the cup and taking a healthy swig to help clear the cobwebs from his brain. “Running sounds too much like work for my tastes.” He regretted the words immediately when Bo glared, mouth opening for what would undoubtedly be a tirade. Remembering how wonderful that toned runners body felt against his, and wanting to feel it again, Lucky decided to let Bo win
this
battle.
“Give me a minute or two. I aint shit until I have my coffee.” The Dimple made a hesitant appearance, prompting Lucky to add, “And dont you dare say I aint shit after, either.”
The Dimple settled in to stay. “Wasnt gonna.”
Lucky sniffed the air hopefully. “Did you cook breakfast?”
“I was waiting until you woke up. French toast isnt good cold, although I did cut up some oranges if you want something right away. Damn but I love those trees in the backyard.”
Bos eagerness to please reminded Lucky of Charlotte, before shed tried to please the wrong guy and wound up so confused she hardly knew her own name. The little clues gleaned over the course of a few daysslowly added up, but Lucky still hadnt puzzled out Bos story.
Dropping down on the bed, Bo visibly relaxed, good humor apparently restored. However, when Lucky raised a hand to brush away a bit of blanket fluff caught in an eyebrow, Bo flinched and jerked away, smile vanishing. Just like Charlotte, with her wounded eyes, how shed winced at sudden movements…
Lucky placed his cup on the nightstand. “Cmere.”
A wary gaze connected with Luckys and darted away. “Why?”
“I wasnt gonna hit you.”
Bo cringed, and didnt come any closer.
“You have something…right there.” Lucky pointed to his forehead.
Bo swiped at his brow, coming away with the piece of lint. He dropped it, and his gaze, to the floor.
“Mind telling my why you thought I was going to smack you one?” Lucky attempted to lighten the suddenly oppressive vibe with a little humor. “Have you done something to deserve it?”
“No,” Bo replied in a small voice. “Why does anyone hit anyone else? Some dont need a reason at all.”
Being lumped together with a dickless bully pissed the hell out of Lucky. He may have been a two-bit, lowlife conman, but unless delivering a lesson in the ring—or in a back alley—he didnt smack people around, especially not someone who suddenly appeared, for all his stocky size, as vulnerable as a kitten. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“Nothing much to tell. My dad was a drunk with all the trimmings and some pretty bizarre ideas about raising kids.”
“He hit you.” It wasnt a question.
Bo barked a humorless laugh. “And I suppose your dad didnt?”
“My dad whupped me, and if hed known everything I did, hed have whupped me more, cause I deserved it and he wanted me to do better.”
To turn out better than I did.
“Somehow I dont think were talking about the same thing.”
Bos chin nearly touched his chest, and he clasped his hands together in his lap. “Probably not. But its not your problem.” Bravado and challenge crept into his tones. Good. At least the man didnt appear completely broken by his experiences.
“Didnt you say you had brothers and sisters?”
“One brother. Six years younger.”
“You can tell me its none of my business, but did your dad hit him?”
Bos pointed chin lifted. Yeah, Lucky wore his cockiness like armor on occasion, too. “He didnt have to. No matter what, I took the blame for whatever pissed him off at the moment. The son of a bitch wasnt laying a hand on Drew if I was around.”
Lucky quickly amended his no-hitting policy, wanting nothing more than to hunt down the bastard whod hurt Bo, take him out to the woods, and tie him to a tree.
Oh shit!
“He tied you.” This also was not a question.
Bo didnt need words to communicate, his body spoke for him. His shoulders drooped, and he deflated with the force of a heavy exhale. There were two ways to play this: tell Lucky it was none of his damned business, or share something deeply personal. Given how protective Lucky already was, he almost wished for the former.
Im leaving soon; I do not need this guys sob story.
And yet he waited, sensing the moment Bo reached a decision.
“He liked to go out drinking, and me and my brother would sneak out while he was gone. Steal whatever money hed left around, go watch a movie or go get burgers.”
Lucky pictured a young Bo, slipping out of a window. Hed done the same back in his own misspent youth. After a while, either hed gotten good at sneaking, or his parents grew too tired to do anything about it. “Let me guess. His answer wasnt to give up drinking and stay home with his kids at night.”
“No, he came up with a better solution: he tied us spreadeagled to our beds before he went out.”
Watching Bos eyes close tight, lines of tension forming around his mouth, was more than even a jaded man like Lucky could bear. Bo only struggled a moment when Lucky grabbed him and pulled him down on the bed, holding him through whatever dark memories replayed in his head.
“He…he…hed be gone for hours. Sometimes he didnt come home until time for us to get ready for school. Id hear my brother crying from his room, but couldnt go to him.” Bos violent shaking rendered his words nearly incomprehensible.
“When did this start?”
“I was only twelve the first time, and I got so damned scared! Every little noise bugged the shit out of me. What if something happened? I…I couldnt get free no matter how hard I tried. Once Dad was gone so long I had no choice but to piss myself.” A strangled cry escaped, but no tears fell. Lucky wondered at what point the dam was going to break.
The little hiccupping noises squeezing out of Bo might have been dry sobs.
“Something worse happened, didnt it?”
Bo bobbed his head, glancing up until their eyes met. “There was a fire…” Seeing the horrified expression on Luckys face, he quickly amended, “No, not our house. Next door, but the wind was blowing the smoke our way and the firefighters heard us screaming. I had no way of knowing where the smoke came from, and Drew screamed and screamed. I pictured my brother burning to death.” The knuckles on Bos fist whitened.
Oh shit. Luckys been in some tight spots before, had a few narrow misses, but hed never, ever been helpless. Well, maybe that time kneeling at Victors feet. But at least Victor had offered a choice.
“They called my aunt to come get us. To make a long story short, she took us in and Social Services charged Dad with neglect. I joined the Marines once I graduated, determined Id make something of myself.”
While Luckys own parents didnt talk to him now, at least theyd raised him properly. And their punishments seemed harsh at the time, but nothing compared to what Bo dealt with. Unless disowning him counted, for being gay, getting arrested, or maybe because hed bitten the wealthy hand feeding him. They never rightly said. But after his arrest ended his time with Victor, his parents had refused to speak to him. The DA made quite a show of revealing how much cash flowed from Victors ill-gotten gains to Luckys folks. Were they ashamed of their own participation in Luckys downfall?
“What about your mother? Where is she?”
“Died when I was eleven.” Bo swiped at his flooded eyes with the back of his hand, the tears breaking free of his control. He blinked them back angrily. “I learned to cook to feed me and my brother, with whatever I managed to scrape together. After we moved in with my aunt, I kept cooking to help out because she worked nights. And unlike my dad, she let me buy decent stuff to work with.” In spite of the moment, Bo managed a laugh. “She said Id become a cooking snob when I started insisting on real tomatoes and fresh grated cheese for spaghetti. But I loved the cooking show on channel fourteen, and wanted to make every new recipe they did.”
The show on channel fourteen, starring a sweet, grandmotherly woman who Ryerson reminded Bo of. The knowledge of Bos past weighed Luckys heart down, and he regretted some of his previous actions, not daring to ask for more details. He already felt strangely privileged to know what he did. “Thanks for telling me. Though I dont seem like a good choice to tell secrets to.”
Bo snorted. “Youre the perfect choice.”
Oh?
“What makes you say that?”
“Cause you dont give a shit. Youll be gone in a few weeks and Ill never cross your mind again. I can say any damned thing I want to and, to quote you, „What happens wherever the hell we are, stays wherever the hell we are.”
Youre wrong, friend.
Knowing how wrong scared the crap out of Lucky.
“I still get fearful at night sometimes,” Bo confessed. “And I guess youve noticed me sleeping on the couch a lot. I was okay at my aunts with Drew in the room, and I learned to make do in the barracks with other guys around, but I still wake up occasionally, dreaming my hands are tied to the headboard.”
An idea formed in Luckys head, and before he could stop them, the words came tumbling out. “Wed save the department money if we closed your room off and didnt heat or cool it. My beds plenty big enough for the both of us.”
Their eyes met, Bos expression unreadable. Lucky broke the awkward stress by glancing at the clock. “Im afraid its too late to go running now. Youd best get ready for work.”

Lucky switched off the radio, a fierce glower warning Bo not to even
think
about turning it back on. They needed to talk. “Got your cell phone?” He put the car into reverse, backing out of the driveway of their little rented house.

Lucky ignored the jibe, shifting from reverse to drive and pulling away from the curb. “My number programmed in?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Turning left toward the highway, he scrolled through a mental list of things Bo might have forgotten. “Got cash for lunch?”
A disgruntled sigh wafted from Luckys right. “Yes, Mom.”
“You got answers ready if they start asking questions?”
Jeez, what am I? Freaking married?
“Lucky?”
“Yes?”
“This may be hard for you to believe, but I did somehow manage to exist before I metyou.”
“Trying to be helpful.”
Bo mumbled, “And overprotective, and boneheaded.” Lucky pretended not to hear. The, “I could have driven the Escort,” came out loud and clear.
Determined to keep his mouth shut—would serve the asshole right if he did forget something—they were halfway to the clinic when Bo broke the silence, his snide griping giving way to a touch of desperation. “Lucky?”
“Yes.”
“What do I do if…” Stopping at a red light, Lucky angled his head enough to sneak a glance toward the passenger seat. The lovely dimple hid deeply in Bos forlorn expression. The dark brown eyes that Lucky swore bored more deeply into his soul than anyone elses were currently trained on the floor.
“If what?” Lucky bit his tongue, wanting Bo to say the words, to admit what truly plagued his mind and had him twisting his fingers together in his lap.
“What if…what if Im tempted?”
Bo slowly raised his eyes, revealing a shimmer that broke the heart Lucky hadnt realized he still had until recently. For a moment he regretted pulling the words out of Bo. He imagined himself standing in Victors bathroom, staring at a ready supply of about any kind of thrill imaginable in the medicine cabinet, hand reaching out. “Call me. If you cant call, text.”
“Text what?”
“Anything. Tell me how your days going. Tell me your coworkers are idiots. Tell me what you want for dinner.”
“And what goods that supposed to do?”
“Ill know what youre thinking, youll know that I know, and you also know Ill kick your ass if you give in.”
The barest hint of a smile eased the tightness around Bos mouth. “Walters coming over tonight; better make dinner steak and potatoes. Im told hes not exactly adventurous when it comes to eating.”
Walter might pay the rent—out of department funds—but the house wasLucky and Bos by right of possession. Theyd eat whatever Lucky damned well threw on the table, since it wouldnt be right to ask Bo to cook on his first day on the job.
Damn! Im turning into “the little woman.”
Lucky yawned, awfully tired for man whod slept like a baby.
A mile from the clinic Bo clutched Luckys arm, fingers digging in. “Lucky?”
“Yes?”
“What if…what if they find out who I am and why Im there?”
Pulling into the clinics parking lot, Lucky took Bos hand in his, forcing every ounce of confidence he could muster into his words. “It wont happen, and if it does, Ill come charging in and make sure youre home for supper.” Seeing Bo strung tight enough to snap, ice sheared off the glacier of Luckys newly rediscovered heart. Vulnerable, scared, grasping at straws for help. When was the last time someone had trusted Lucky to save them?
He didnt know where the words came from, but he meant them. “Nothings gonna happen to you. I wont let it.” Realizing what hed pledged, he backpedaled hard, adding a flippant, “Cause youre my replacement, and I cant go if youre not here.”
“Asshole,” Bo muttered, removing his hand and flopping back into the passenger seat, hugging his arms around himself.
As badly as Lucky wanted to apologize, he didnt.
Youre getting too close. Youre leaving soon. The last thing you need is emotional entanglement.