Faith and Fidelity (11 page)

Evan felt the desire rise up again. “Which is?”

Matt grinned wickedly. He slid his hand to grab Evan's forearm, brought it up over Evan's head. The tattoo. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the black edges of the design. When he reached the bottom, right above the wrist, he sank his teeth in and sucked until Evan was writhing underneath him.

And he didn't stop there.

Matt got up to turn the overhead light off and lock his door. He slid back under the covers and relaxed against Evan's warm body. They were “spooned"— a position Matt usually hated, but he was reluctant to let go of Evan. Wanted to run his hands over the man breathing quietly beside him. Pressed his mouth into his shoulder, sighing.

“So I guess I should let you go to sleep,” he said softly. He ran his palm gently from Evan's shoulder to his knee.

“We have furniture to move in what? Five hours?”

“Mmm... yeah. Don't worry about it— we can take a nap on the new mattress after the delivery guys leave.” Matt didn't bother to leave the leer out of his voice.

“I highly doubt I'd get any sleep in that case.” Evan's voice sounded sleepy, and realizing what a precious commodity sleep was for him, Matt kissed him on the back of the neck.

“Go to sleep. I'm gonna make you carry all the heavy stuff,” Matt whispered. He pulled him close against his body, one arm resting on the pillow above his head, the other draped over Evan's midsection.

Evan chuckled and leaned back comfortably. He sighed, rooting down into the pillow, under the blankets.

In just a few minutes, Matt felt Evan growing heavy against him. Heard the change in his breathing and realized he was asleep.
Well, if I'm not going to get him to eat enough at least I can make sure he's tired enough to sleep
, Matt thought drily.

Suddenly it wasn't the sexual feelings this man aroused in him crowding Matt's brain— it was the tenderness, the concern. He wanted to take care of Evan, ease his burden a bit. At the same time, Evan gave him a safe place to be— like he'd felt with Tony, with Phil— but with the added bonus of an addictive surge of lust that seemed to have obliterated any doubts Matt might have had about getting involved with a man.

He kept thinking about his old partners, about how he missed their company, their friendship, their concern. Having a partner back when he was on the force anchored him somehow. It was more than work, more than solving the cases. It was Matt's home, Matt's family, and goddamnit he missed it still.

But not as much as a few months ago, he thought. Not as much since Evan and he started this friendship. Their relationship brought back that old familiar sense of security cradling Matt as he went about his life. No worries, because in the end he could wind up here, in safe silence.

Matt laid his head on Evan's pillow, practically touching his mouth to the back of the sleeping man's head. He inhaled the male scent— Matt's soap on new skin, the smell of sex— and closed his eyes. Hushed his overactive brain and let himself fall under the seductive sound of Evan's rhythmic breathing until he felt himself drifting off.

The dream was always the same.
He walked down the corridor behind his stepfather Buddy— his first stepfather, the one who taught him about being too afraid to breath— numbly listening to the recitation about Sherri being dead. Evan was too frightened to speak. He just wanted to find his wife and take her home because she shouldn't be here with Buddy and she couldn't be dead... no, no, no.

They turned a corner and Evan gagged— the smell of death overwhelmed him. He grabbed his throat, unable to breath through the stench. Suddenly she was there in front of him on the gurney, the wound on her head so vicious, so cruel... so clean.

It enraged him because he knew it was a lie. Death wasn't so neat and tidy, so politely civil. He'd seen it enough to know that. He turned to Buddy, that disgusting leer permanently etched onto his face.

“Where did you put her blood?!” he screamed. “Where is it all?! Why are you hiding it?!”

And then it was there— all of it— all the blood he could have ever imagined on his hands, on his clothes, in his eyes, and he started to shriek in terror because he thought he might drown. He could hear Buddy laughing, telling him to be a good boy or else...

He clawed his way back to consciousness, moaning and flailing desperately. He had to escape Buddy... had to escape the blood. Had to escape the look of his wife's corpse. Evan fought off the covers which were weighed down much heavier than usual. And he heard someone calling his name.

“Hey, hey, easy, I'm here— calm down.” Matt.

Evan gasped, sitting straight up, shivering with nausea and fear. He felt Matt's hands soothing him gently, like that first night.

Felt his mouth close, whispering in his ear, “It's okay. I'm here.”

Oh thank God
, Evan thought.

“Sorry,” he managed to get out. But Matt stopped him immediately.

“Come here.” He pulled him back into his arms, lowering them both back onto the mattress. “Are you okay?”

Evan shivered. “Yeah.” He buried his face into the pillow, unable to look Matt in the eye. Always the same goddamn dream. Always about the two things that Evan hated most in the world— Buddy, the predator that stalked his childhood, and Sherri, dead, taken away from him too soon.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asked softly, stroking the back of Evan's head and neck, comforting him.

“No.” Evan swallowed hard. “Talk to me, just talk about anything for a few minutes okay?” He needed a few moments to pull himself together.

“'Kay.” Matt felt like sharing something with Evan, to make him feel less alone. “I used to have nightmares all the time— after Tony died.”

“Your first partner?”

“Yeah. I heard the shot, turned my head and he was on his knees. Already dead. After his funeral, every time I closed my eyes I'd hear hear the gunshots. Knowing over and over again there wasn't anything I could do but watch Tony die.” Matt sighed. “You become a cop and they teach you about protecting people and keeping them safe. But they don't tell you how it rips your heart out when you realize you can't do it. You can't save everybody.”

Evan said nothing but leaned a bit closer to Matt.

“I couldn't protect Tony. I tried to but I couldn't.”

“I know how you feel.”

“It was a car accident, Evan. There was nothing you could have done.”

Evan started to protest so Matt leaned over and kissed him, hard. “I know you loved her. I know you would have done anything for her, but it was the asshole in the other car— not you. You don't have to feel guilty. I blamed myself every day for years for Tony's death but I realized— I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't cause his death. Just like you didn't cause Sherri's death.”

“I know.” Evan's voice was barely audible. “But I... I just wanted to protect her. That's what you do when you love someone. You protect them.”

“Yeah. That's what you try to do.” Evan thought about Buddy and shook. He thought about his mother and how much he still hated her. He had never said anything to anyone but Sherri— she alone knew the source of his nightmares, the reason he worked so diligently as a cop. And now he wanted Matt to know. “My stepfather— the first one— ah... he was a piece of shit. He conned my mother though— treated her like a princess. But when she wasn't around, he... he said things to me... disgusting things... followed me around, watched me all the time. When I threatened to tell my mother he'd laugh, find some reason to slam me into a wall.”

Matt held himself very still as the words poured out of Evan's mouth. He remembered his childhood, remembered the priest whose poison reach had only just missed Matt. “Did he ever... ?”

“No. To this day I don't know why. When I was nine, two federal marshals showed up on our doorstep. Turns out good old Buddy had escaped from a state pen. In for child molestation.”

Matt let out a harsh breath. “Jesus. You were lucky he never... Jesus. Your mother must've been devastated.”

Evan made the strangest sound— somewhere between a laugh and a moan. “My mother? My fucking mother knew. She knew what he was, knew he was a rapist and a convict and she let him into our home anyway. Let him be around me, let him terrorize me for four years. She knew and she didn't care.” By the end, Evan was breathing heavily, his voice breaking.

Matt said nothing. He just wrapped his arms around the other man tightly, sliding his legs in between his, until there wasn't any part of their bodies that wasn't touching. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Trembling with rage, Evan buried his face against Matt's shoulder, trying to control himself. It had been almost fifteen years since he'd said those words aloud, and he'd buried the memories as far down as he could. Sometimes they slipped out, in the dead of night, when a case hit too close to home. It would make Evan wild with anger, desperate to avenge those children who had no one in their corner. Up until tonight, it had been Sherri to hold him like this, to let him rage and hate, then quietly remind him that he was loved.

Evan shifted, brought his mouth to Matt's ear. “There's so much I want to say to you... but it's just too soon.”

Matt's heart clenched. “I'll be here when you're ready,” he whispered shakily.

The other man nodded and they lay there in silence, until Evan once again succumbed to his exhaustion. Matt held him tightly still, refusing to let go. He had never known such peace... or such terror. He knew what Evan wanted to say, could hear it in the gentle tone of his voice, could feel the emotion pulsing through his body. He wanted to hear it, wanted to know it was true. But he didn't know how to say it back and mean it. He didn't know how to make it last, or how to make it beautiful. He only knew how to run like a coward and hide in a pitcher of beer, or behind a cheap fuck.

He didn't know if he deserved to hear those words from someone like Evan.

The phone woke them a few hours later, at eight a.m. The delivery men were lost and Matt sleepily gave them better directions. Hanging up the phone, he fell back down on the mattress and pressed against Evan's back.

“We have about forty-five minutes before they get here,” Matt said, giving him a hard bite on the shoulder.

Evan pulled the covers over his head. “I'm sleeping. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Matt smiled, following Evan under the blanket. A little levity after last night was good. A little kissing would be even better.

The moving men arrived and in short order the four men had nearly all the pieces up the stairs and into the apartment. When the two deliverymen went downstairs for the last box, Matt cornered Evan against the wall next to the front door.

“Let's get the couch set up first,” he said, flicking his eyes across Evan's face.

Returning the stare, Evan said “You have me for another,” he checked his watch, “seven hours. Use your time wisely.”

Matt smirked and moved away, hearing the men coming up the stairs, banging his chest of drawers against the walls and the railing. He was feeling a certain swagger in his step this morning, drunk on this attraction, this feeling of affection that flowed like a circuit between them. He figured it would hit him later that Matthew Haight, Ladies Man Extraordinaire, was now fixated on getting Evan Cerelli, Poster Boy for Suburban Normalcy, naked and on his back as often as possible.

He should probably be freaked out, like he was before, but it was a natural high being alone with Evan and he didn't want to spoil it by thinking too hard.

A few hours later Matt was regaining his equilibrium, blinking up at the ceiling. He felt Evan stir next to him, the mattress dipping slightly as he got up.

“Hey, where you headed?”

Evan stretched, rolling out the kinks in his back and arms. “Shower. I have to get going soon. Traffic's going to be a bitch out to the Island— I have to pick my kids up by eight.”

“Shower, huh?”

Smiling, Evan shook his head. “God you have a one-track mind... Stall's too small remember? I'll be out in a few minutes. We need to talk about some things.”

The bottom fell out of Matt's stomach. It sounded as bad coming from Evan as it did from the countless women who'd uttered those words to Matt over the years. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Evan wasn't looking at Matt while he talked. “I mean, this... ” He motioned to the bed. “This is... good... but what about the real world? We both have a lot at stake.”

Matt didn't think that was true— Evan's risks were much higher. He blinked a few times, trying to organize his thoughts. His chest felt heavy with fear, fully aware that he was the least important thing in Evan's life and the first thing to go if there was trouble.

“Well, to be honest, I thought we would keep this to ourselves as much as possible... at least for right now. Til we... uh... figure out what this... is.”

Evan nodded, kept his eyes fixed on the floor. “I... don't know what to say to you except... this is important to me... for a lot of different reasons. I'm not ready... to give it up.”

Matt said nothing, struggling. Nodded just to do something. “Did you want to tell someone?”

“Yeah. Actually, I thought I might let Helena know. It might help her to understand why I've been such a lunatic over the past week.”

“I know she's your partner... ”

“And friend.”

“And friend... but do you think she'll... ah... be okay with it?”

“I think so. Helena isn't a judgmental person. She'll want me to be happy.”

Matt swallowed. “And this... makes you happy?”

Evan smirked, finally locking eyes with Matt. “Yeah. And crazy and confused and... ”

“Tired?”

“How about you?” Evan asked with a laugh.

“Shit, I'm exhausted. You wore me out.”

“Thank you. I'm taking a shower.”

Evan turned and walked toward the bathroom. Matt found himself doing something he'd never expected— checking out another man's body. Liking what he saw.