Hearts Under Fire (5 page)

“Been thinking about you a lot. It’s not very often I get turned down.” Clark laughed good-naturedly. “Though it
does
happen. And you...” Clark paused, and he knew his face probably betrayed more than it should. “You explained yourself fairly well.”

“And here,” Daniel said lightly, “I thought I had been suitably vague and indecipherable. Please do continue.”

Clark chuckled. “Well, I’m told I’m more perceptive than most.” He winked, locked onto Daniel’s deep blue eyes, and thought of oceans and tides. Clark went very, very still as the reason for his anxiety landed a sucker punch to his gut that made him forget oxygen wasn’t optional.

Oh. My. God.

When Clark had begun his research into Daniel, it had been a lark, a way to kill the desire he had for a man who had turned him down with such finality.

But as the research progressed and he discovered Daniel might be interested in something Clark could offer, he grew worried that what he’d done would make Daniel angry. The professor kept to himself, so it was only logical that he might have a problem with a bartender prying into his life.

When Clark decided to track Daniel down anyway, it felt like a reasonable risk. He had faith in his ability to present the information in a way that would hopefully make Daniel merely uncomfortable at the worst.

But sitting here facing the object of his latest obsession, Clark was stunned to realize the nerves ran deeper. Because if Daniel got upset, then he would definitely not be interested in Clark’s offer. Which meant the chances of Clark seeing Daniel again were much, much slimmer. Daniel didn’t really seem to have many friends, and he’d already rejected getting to know Clark beyond the bar, sexual innuendo notwithstanding.

I care if I make him mad because I want to see him again. Badly.

Huh. Well. Holy fuck.

How had he missed this? How could he be so taken by this guy and so utterly blind to his own motives? One didn’t usually get turned down for a date and then go seek that person out to offer him a goddamned job without a good reason. And Clark wanted to laugh at how he’d somehow managed to rationalize that he did all this for Lucian.

Right. Pretty fucking flimsy, Clark.

And the crush made no sense. It would never work, and Clark felt like an exposed teenager with a bad case of fucking puppy love.

Get it together, damnit. Emotions cannot interfere with a job, and you’re neck-deep in your own trap. Push on, man. Push on.

Quickly calculating that he’d only been lost in this particular thought for a split second, Clark compartmentalized and organized. He’d already talked to Lucian, and involving others made escape a non-option. He found center, took a deep breath through his nose, and the sound of the restaurant came back to his ears.

“Mindreading again?” Daniel asked with an attentive gaze. “All right... show me how good you are.”

Clark reached for his drink, focusing on keeping the motion smooth. He took a long sip and thought about the color blue. It was a focal point, a way to still himself, given that part of him was in utter shock and the other part was screaming like a drill sergeant.

Wanting a man who only dominated his partners was not allowed, but that wasn’t as big an offense as getting blindsided and emotional while on duty.

Not. Fucking. Allowed. Soldier.

Clark set the bottle down, and the eye that was not truly Clark’s began to ache. He ignored it.

“Sorry. I think I left the oven on.” Clark shook his head. “Anyway, as I was saying. You told me your reasoning, but some of the things you said just wouldn’t leave me alone. So... I did one of the things I do best: research.” Clark shrugged.

You’ve made this a job. Do it and get out.

Clark leaned forward, remembering the hundreds of other times he’d done errands for Lucian. And while this particular assignment might be for the mayor’s son only in name, Clark would do it well.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you or upset you. Believe me.” Clark refrained from wincing at the slight change in tone on those last two words. That wasn’t what he’d intended to say. At all, actually.

He resisted the urge to gulp as Daniel’s eyes narrowed a fraction. Clark counted heartbeats until Daniel spoke, voice surprisingly gentle. “What did you do?”

Clark’s fingers flexed on the table, but that was the only outward sign of his relief. He forced a megawatt smile, and even though his eye pulsed painfully at the movement, he didn’t let himself show discomfort. “Well, I think I found a way to possibly help you out. If you’re interested, that is.”

“Help me out?” Daniel repeated. “With what? My grants?”

“Not quite,” Clark said softly. “Are you familiar with Bliss? Cathedral club up on the ridge?”

“Yes. I am. It’s a beautiful setting,” Daniel said.

“It is,” Clark agreed with a nod. “I own a piece of it. And since you’re somewhat familiar with me and Bliss, then maybe you know something about Club Break?” Clark kept his voice easygoing. His heart thudded, and he told himself he needed to calm the hell down or else Daniel would get a very wrong impression of this situation.

Daniel sat back, breathed in deeply, and blew it out in a harsh blast. “You’re not trying to blackmail me about my dom business, are you? That doesn’t fit.” He paused, frowning. “Because that’s peanuts compared to what you make. So what in the world are you hinting at?”

Shit, that’s what he thinks?

“No,” Clark said quickly. “Nothing like that, Daniel. God, no.” Clark reached into his pocket and withdrew a black card with Clark’s full name embossed on one side. A silver rose was on the other. He slid the card across the table to Daniel with one finger and let it go.

Daniel glanced down at the card and then back up at Clark, who continued, “I’m sorry; I was concerned you’d be angry when you found out I’d been digging around in your life. It was accidental, but when I learned about your side business, I went ahead and did my usual check. I do all the background history for anyone who comes to Break.”

Clark hesitated as images of old newspaper clippings with headlines of death flashed in his mind’s eye. He could hear one of the private investigators he kept on retainer telling him that Daniel was very good at what he did. None of his clients -- all subs, Clark recalled with a bitter taste in his mouth -- ever complained. No issues, no ripples, barely a trace. Daniel dove into his job with a perfect ten dive.

“You check out,” Clark finished mildly.

Daniel stared and then closed his eyes. Again, Clark waited in limbo.

“You are good. I have to admit it,” Daniel murmured. “I know enough to understand what this represents, and to know that such a free pass is rare, especially given the membership fees. So, thank you for the opportunity.” Daniel opened his eyes, and Clark studied the professor as he gathered his thoughts.

“I’m also glad you now know why I turned you down.” Daniel looked sharply at Clark. “This is unusual, you know? Most men, when they’re rejected, wouldn’t hunt that person down to offer them a sweet business deal. Why are you giving me this, when all I gave you was a cold shoulder?”

Oh, it confuses the fuck out of me, too, believe me.

Pushing aside panic and the reflexive anger that came with that emotion, Clark tried to find the words that would put Daniel at ease so Clark wouldn’t feel like an utter failure later. Just
mostly
a failure, because his emotional bullshit had nearly managed to ruin this entire damned conversation.

Clark shrugged and slid aside his mostly-uneaten food to fix Daniel with a steady gaze. “I’m the kind of person who needs to understand
why
things are the way they are. I wanted to know more about you, and was going to leave it at your class schedule or where you went to high school. But...” Clark worried at the inside of his lower lip before he smiled, a slight tilt of his mouth and nothing more.

“You’re a good man, Daniel. A man who’s overcome bad things to carve out a place for yourself. I... know something about that.” Clark let himself rub at the temple next to the brown eye that was working up into a full-on headache. Or eye ache, however one wanted to look at that.

“I like encouraging talent. I think I may have told you that before. And I think you could do well for yourself at Break. I imagine you could drum up a few regulars. Between my good word and Lucian’s, you’d be set.” Clark sat back and crossed his arms. “It doesn’t matter to me that you turned me down. It doesn’t negate who you are or how I perceive you.”

Daniel seemed to absorb that, and Clark wanted to reach over and touch Daniel to reassure him. The professor looked shocked, sad, and hopeful in less than a breath. Clark kept his hands to himself, however, and caged the longing behind iron bars.

Reaching out with a fingertip, Daniel pulled the card so that it was right in front of him. “I am honored. My schedule is full now, but that always changes, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see how Break works.”

Clark was infinitely relieved that Daniel was okay with this -- and that relief twisted in Clark into something he hated himself for feeling. He couldn’t tolerate anything he saw as a failure of self, and he thought that one of his weekend whiskey binges might be in order. The need to punish and escape pulled at him, a noose around his neck.

“You are very welcome,” Clark said, and when he spoke again, it was all business.

“Summer’s coming up. If I were you, I’d make an appearance at Break sooner rather than later. I’ve already spoken to Lucian about you, and he looks forward to a meeting. That card is an all-access pass into the club. Means everything lines up: background, medical, you know the drill. You’ll need to show it to the guards at all points.” Clark paused to think. “You could get in on your own with it, but it might go smoother if I escorted you the first time. Just through the doors; after that, I won’t interfere.”

Daniel’s expression looked fixed. “Sergeant Clark fits you well. How soon can we go? I’m free this Friday night.”

Clark’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. No one called him Sergeant; it was usually met with a command to address him as “Sir”, if they must, or just “Clark”, as he preferred. But Clark didn’t correct Daniel. The guy didn’t know all that bullshit and didn’t need to. What did it matter? They probably wouldn’t be much more than casual acquaintances after this.

At least I’ll get to see him at Break.

Clark made a mental note not to dig into interesting blue-eyed men’s pasts from now on. Apparently it only got him aggravation and brought him that much closer to becoming an alcoholic.

“I can do Friday,” Clark said, grateful for the training that allowed him to appear calm in any situation. “Nine work for you? Get you in to do the meet and greet before the place warms up for the night.”

“That’s fine,” Daniel said. “Any particular dress code I should know about?”

Clark rubbed at his temple. “Just about anything goes. If you do anything crazy, make sure you can cover it up until you’re in the club. You’ll see where to park when you get there. Just go around the main building until you spot cars. I’ll meet you in the lot. Be easiest.”

Daniel put the card away. “I’m looking forward to what passes for crazy in there. I bet after Bliss and Break, Glow seems far quieter.”

“Everything’s relative,” Clark commented. Then he shifted to one side and withdrew his wallet. He pulled out his own business card with his personal information. “Here,” Clark said. “Should anything come up or you have questions...”

“Thank you. May I assume you have my phone numbers?” Daniel asked, with a hint of irony.

“It’s a safe assumption,” Clark replied, smiling at Daniel and trying not to think about the texture of his hair, how it would feel if...

Clark sighed. Apparently being near Daniel was the emotional equivalent of taking a nice stroll through a peaceful meadow full of IEDs.

Daniel tilted his head. “It was good to see you again. I’m rather impressed and flattered at the lengths you went to in finding me.” He pointed at the uneaten slices of pizza. “Are you going to take those? I know my RAs would inhale them in an instant; they make the phrase ‘starving student’ look good.”

“Nah,” Clark said. “Not as hungry as I thought, I suppose.” He slid the plate toward Daniel. “Better they enjoy than it go to waste.”

“Are... are you all right, Clark? You seem...” Daniel frowned. “Off, I guess. Was it something I did or said?”

Oh, way to make the guy blame himself for the fact that you can’t identify a stupid crush for what it is or hold it together during a job. Smooth, Clark. Real smooth.

“No,” Clark said, with a shake of his head. “I think I was more nervous about tracking you down than I thought.” He laughed to cover how honest those words were. “And my eye.” Clark gestured vaguely with one hand. “Get some residual nerve and muscle pain occasionally.” He smiled. “Have meds, will cope.”

“Ah,” Daniel said, nodding once. “All right, then. I won’t keep you from them.” Daniel got up and held out his hand. “I’m glad you stopped by and look forward to Friday night.”

Clark stood, spine going straight and tall on autopilot. He shook Daniel’s hand with a firm grip. “I’m sure it’ll be interesting. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, see you in the parking lot of Bliss at nine on Friday.” Clark grabbed his drink and stepped away from the table with a nod.

Daniel nodded back. “I’ll see you then.”

Clark gave Daniel a mock-salute and left. He needed to get his head and ass straightened out before Friday. After that, he could bury himself in a whiskey bottle to reminisce with the ghosts of old friends. But not until he finished the Daniel job.

Clark mentally added more miles to tomorrow morning’s run. Nothing like a little physical exhaustion and endorphins to clear the head before sorting through the past.

Whistling a funeral march, Clark headed toward the bus stop. He had every confidence that he had done the right thing, that he could sort himself out and do his job, and that this would be good for Daniel, Lucian, and the club.