Relay for Life (11 page)

He felt like he needed to lock himself in his house for the next year. He didn’t know much for sure, but the one thing he did know was that he didn’t want to be alone when he did it. The two men beside him were the only ones he wanted there. Maybe it was the trauma of the experience. Maybe it really was love at first sight. Whatever the reason, he needed them with him. So much had happened in the past forty-eight hours that he just wanted everything to stop. He needed a focal point. He looked over at Matthew and Andrew. They were that point.

At some point he must’ve fallen asleep, because when he next opened his eyes, the pilot announced they’d be arriving in approximately fifteen minutes on top of Deadzone tower. The landing pad on the roof was a handy feature. He hoped they wouldn’t keep them long.

Andrew leaned against his shoulder, much calmer-looking now than he had been when they’d been picked up. He felt a twinge of guilt for not helping him through it like he had last time. Matthew was still staring off into space on the other side, looking as distant as he had when Marcel had drifted off.
We all just need some sleep. We’ll be right as rain afterward
. He rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up.

They landed without a hiccup, and he was the first one to stand. It took some coaxing to get the other two moving, but he managed without much fuss. He left their packs on the transport. Everything they needed was here. He hopped down the steps to the concrete building top, followed by Andrew and then Matthew. He was in a bit of a daze. They’d had a hell of a day. He was covered in infected blood, dirt, and sweat.
Shower then bed
. It helped to have a plan. He didn’t even know what time it was. It was dark out, but past “night,” he didn’t have much of a descriptor.

The door to the building opened, and he tensed for a second, reaching for his empty weapons, before his brain registered that no one was going to tear out of there ready to kill them. He shook his head.
Man, it’s been a hell of a day
. He wasn’t too surprised when Jason and Brook came out of the door.

Brook’s expression was as brittle as Marcel felt, and guilt was evident all over his visage. He went over to Andrew and pulled him into a hug while Jason did the same to Matthew. While Andrew gave a weak hug in return, Matthew didn’t move. Protectiveness rose hard and fast in his chest.

“They need to rest, fellas,” he said over the engine of the transport. They were keying it down, but it was still loud as hell. “We’re going to go shower, then we can talk.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about using the ones on the field agents’ floor. You guys can use the one in our office. The couches pull out to beds if you want to sleep,” Jason said, turning to look at him. “You did a great job, Carter.”

Marcel nodded his thanks at the compliment, but his heart really wasn’t in it. They had lived, but it really hadn’t been from anything he’d done personally. It had been a bit of luck and a whole lot of “what the fuck” moments that had gotten them back to civilization. “We need a transport back to sector ten first thing in the morning.”

Jason nodded. “Consider it done. You can all take our personal jet as soon as you get up.” He keyed in his passcode, and the door buzzed to admit them.

Marcel was relieved at the quieter interior and the familiar clean smell of the hallway. The maintenance people always used a bit of lemon in their cleaning solutions, so it always smelled slightly citrusy after hours. “What time is it?” Andrew asked, his voice a hoarse thread of sound.

“It’s almost midnight,” Brook said, worrying his bottom lip. “I’m really sorry I left you guys. Everything went to hell after we left.”
Marcel shrugged. “No big deal, Brook. If you would’ve stayed, you’d probably be dead right now.”
We should all be dead right now
. That bit went unsaid. The thought was too chilling to say out loud. A shudder worked down Matthew’s frame. It was the first emotion he’d betrayed since his father had seen them off. He frowned just thinking about that encounter. If it had been Marcel’s dad, there would be tears, kisses, and a barrage of hugs. They had one hug and a pat on the shoulder. Maybe it was because they were both SCABs, but it had seemed to contrast with the close relationship Matthew had told them about earlier. With effort, he dragged his attention back to the conversation. “I’m just glad you and Bryan made it out before everything went south.”
“We’re going to send the company psychologist around in the next few days to check up on you at your residences,” Jason said. “I told Jim that you guys might want longer, but he insisted. Boss man is stubborn like that.”
“We’ll all be at my place,” Andrew said. “Send him there.”
Jason looked at them with a puzzled expression on his face, but he didn’t ask questions. That was good. Marcel didn’t know if he could handle much more conversation. He was so damn
tired
. “Okay. I’ll send her over toward the end of the week.”
They took the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the company presidents’ offices, which resembled more of a penthouse than anything else to Marcel at the moment. He barely registered the plush carpet or expensive furniture. Nothing mattered but a shower and some sleep.
Jason showed them where all the toiletries were and all but dragged Brooklyn out of the room. Marcel rubbed his hands over his face again.
What a mess
. He managed to key in the water temperature for the three-headed shower and waited for the water to warm. The bathroom had clearly been designed to accommodate all three lovers. The tiled bathroom was wide enough to fit three grown men easily, and it enabled each man to have his own showerhead. It was luxurious, and it enabled them to stay together, which was just what Marcel thought they needed. Taking turns in a shower cubicle sounded awful. He didn’t want to be alone with his own thoughts.
They stripped off their clothes and deposited them straight in the trash shuts. By the time they got out, someone would have delivered some field agent standards to the room, or so Jason had promised on his way out.
“I’m going to have to get me one of these when I get back home,” Andrew murmured, stepping into the spray. “I’ll have to remodel the bathroom.” Marcel recalled that had been his new project only last year. It’d be a pity to waste all that work.
“We can make do with what you have,” Marcel said. He took Matthew’s hand and tugged him under the water.
“I know we can. I just want a new project.” That was Andrew’s way. He was always working on something when he was home. Lucky for him, he had the money to do it.
The swirling water emptying into the drains turned a muddy redbrown almost instantly. They were dirtier than he’d thought. He groaned as the water caressed his scalp. It felt good to get clean again. He grabbed the shampoo off the built-in shelf and poured a good amount in his hand.
“Come here, Matthew. Lemme wash your hair.” He needed to touch him, make sure he was all right. The man was being way too quiet. Matthew nodded and tilted his head back so he could reach. Andrew grabbed the bar of soap and joined him, washing away the grime on Matthew’s body.
Matthew groaned at the contact. “Feels good.”
“Good,” Marcel said. “You are worrying me a bit. How you doin’?”
“Really tired. I think the shock is wearing off. I was starting to get cold. The water helps. I don’t know what my problem is. I’m usually stronger than this.” He sounded embarrassed by the fact.
Andrew snorted. “Hush, you. Strength has nothing to do with it. Your body is protecting itself from being psychologically fucked. That’s not weakness. It’s just a cause-and-effect thing.” Marcel looked down at his lover, impressed. Andrew seemed to be recovering nicely if he could chastise Matthew like that. He was proud. He hadn’t been kidding when he had told Matthew that underneath the slight timidity and anxiety, there was a thread of steel. Andrew had been a fighter for as long as Marcel had known him.
Matthew sighed. “I know that logically. It’s harder in practice.” He smiled sheepishly at the pair. “Thanks for taking care of me. You two wash off while I soak. I’m feeling a bed calling my name.”
“Amen to that,” Marcel agreed. He tilted his head back into the spray again, and the last bit of tension eased away. They were going to be all right.

They went straight from the airport to Andrew’s condo. Since there was no longer commercial air travel, the UMF and select private individuals were the only ones permitted to use air transport because of the security risk. Obtaining permits for private transports was a nightmare from what Matthew understood. It was relatively empty as they took a transport Deadzone had sent over out of the port and up onto the main road that ran the length of the city.

The wealth of the place was easy to see in the pristine, wellmanicured streets with pieces of scattered artwork on every block corner and the variety of plants to brighten up the concrete jungle. There was no graffiti anywhere to be seen, unlike his own neighborhood, and everything looked like an interior decorator had gone through the city and made everything uniform. It was very strange.

“I don’t think I’ve been to this side of sector ten before,” Matthew said as the automated transport turned down a smaller street that was lined with shops and restaurants. “It’s nice.”

Andrew gave him a small smile. “I like it here. I’m within walking distance of everything, and all my favorite places deliver.”
He still looked tired with dark circles under his eyes, but Matthew figured it would take more than one night on a pull-out sofa bed to fix that. He imagined he didn’t look much better. They’d all been woken up at one point or another during the previous night to nightmares or noises that their strung-out bodies had taken as an enemy in the darkness. Matthew had had no problem in requesting that they sleep with the closet light on, just because. After about three hours of constant rousing, they’d agreed.
“Bit of a foodie, are you?” Matthew asked, teasing. He was beginning to feel a little better.
Andrew shrugged but couldn’t hide his grin. “I would be if I didn’t have to be so careful. My body is my temple and all that.”
Marcel snorted. “Don’t let him fool you. He eats like a horse. He burns so many calories in a day, it boggles the mind. He’s just picky.”
“Aw, give away all my secrets, why don’t you?” Andrew grumped. Despite the words, his tone said he was still playing. He paused. “Hey, Matthew?”
“What is it, love?”
“Do you think your dad is going to be okay with the three of us?”
Matthew looked up in surprise. “With our relationship?” Was it a relationship? He was afraid to ask. He really wanted it to be, but he feared what would happen after a few days of civilization. It was one thing to make promises in a war zone, feel things so intensely there. It was another to try to make them work in the real world.
Andrew’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah.”
Matthew shrugged. “I think he’ll be happy for me. Well, he’ll probably tease me first, but in the end he’ll give his blessing, I think.” He frowned as he remembered the tight expression on his dad’s face from the day before. “He was acting really weird yesterday. He’s normally not like that. He’s usually really”—he searched for the appropriate words—“laid back and funny. He’s serious about work stuff, but it’s not his natural personality.”
Marcel put his hand on Matthew’s knee. “He was wound up from the situation, same as we were. You weren’t exactly normal Norman back there, either.”
“I think he was scared for me,” Matthew hypothesized. “Did I imagine the tone when he said we didn’t see anything?” There had been something in his dad’s expression that had been so real, so terrified.
“I was freaking out, so I don’t remember,” Andrew admitted, shrugging.
“I know what you’re talking about,” Marcel said. “I think we came closer to dying than even the zombie attack got us. I really don’t imagine we were supposed to see all that.”
“It had to be special ops of some kind.” Matthew tapped his fingers on his thigh, anxiety building in his chest. “I wish I knew what my dad has gotten into. Special Ops is dangerous work, and not all the danger comes from the infected.” It was pretty common knowledge, though most of it was unproven, that the S.O. kept everything hushhush by any means necessary. Like the gangs of older times, once someone was in, they were in for life, and they didn’t leave witnesses.
They pulled into the parking deck attached to a wide building with a blue glass-like exterior that was probably shatterproof and bulletproof. It was really a lovely building, just like Marcel had claimed. “We dodged a bullet back there,” Marcel said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about your dad. I mean, he’s probably a pretty highranking UMF officer right?”
“The highest. He’s an infection supervisor. Up until recently he’s been acting as a consultant in Europe, and we all know what kind of hellhole Europe is.” It was some of the most dangerous area in the world with the exception of some Southeastern Asian countries, mostly because it was hard to get to and hard to get out of. International flights were limited to military operations only. It was traditionally regarded as suicidal to go there.
Marcel nodded. “Then he probably isn’t doing a lot of field work. I imagine they have him as acting superior on a project.” What Marcel said made sense, and it also made him feel slightly better. At least his dad wasn’t going to be on the ground anymore. Even if it was Special Ops, it would be a step up, securitywise, from what he’d had before.
“I think I’m done with outdoor runs,” Andrew said as the car parked.
Matthew nodded his head in agreement. “I think I’m done with SCAB work.” He’d finally reached his limits. He’d seen enough carnage and infected to last him a lifetime. He’d always used his work as a way to define himself, just like his dad. Maybe he’d find another way. He glanced at Marcel and Andrew.
Maybe I already have
.
“Good,” Andrew said, opening his door and beckoning Matthew to follow. “I’m glad we’re both done with unnecessary risks.”
Marcel chuckled and followed after them. “At least I’ll have to worry less about you two now.” The fact that Marcel felt like he needed to worry about Matthew gave him pause. Marcel’s brown eyes met his as he stepped onto the concrete deck. “We can question that statement after we all get some more sleep, eh? We’ll talk details then.”
Matthew nodded. That sounded fantastic to him. They would have to talk about what it meant now they were back home. Whether or not the dating thing would actually happen was a little up in the air since they were all raw from the mission. After they rested, they’d have to deal. Matthew just hoped that when they came out the other side, they’d still want to be together.
They crossed the parking deck to an elevator that required Andrew to key in four different codes and provide his hand for verification as well as register his guests before he was allowed to even get on the damn thing. “This building has some intense security,” Matthew said as the elevator doors slid open and allowed them entrance with an automated greeting to Andrew.
Andrew stood by the back wall. “It’s why I picked it. The elevator won’t open to anyone else, either. I’ve never even met most of the people in the building.”
It was a short ride up, and when the elevator pinged and instructed them to step out, Matthew was surprised that he found himself in a short hallway with marble floors and a door at the far end.
“One way in?”
Andrew nodded. “Yep. The building is circular and split up much the same way you’d cut a pizza. The condos are wedges, and the elevator rotates to open to the correct condo from the center point.” He pressed his hand to the door. “Andrew Ainsley and two guests. Duration indefinite. Allow password use.”
“Enabled,” a computerized voice answered. “What password would you like to set?”
“Triad,” Andrew said. It warmed Matthew that he used it. He was still thinking of a “them” apparently.
He couldn’t help but be impressed. Usually in condos, the hall of doors faced inward and one would occasionally see neighbors coming and going. It worked that way at his apartment, too. Whoever had built this place was both paranoid and artistic. It was a pretty interesting combination.
The door opened inward, and they stepped inside.
Matthew’s eyes widened as they came into the foyer. The cherrywood floor opened up to a larger space. At the center was a square beige carpet with a small table that was a shade darker than the floors. Beyond that was a staircase that led up to a loft that overlooked the foyer. The railing to the loft was a beautiful, twisted, black wrought iron that looked like something out of an old English garden he’d seen in pictures. He could barely see the gold frames of pictures as they hung in the upstairs corridor, though he couldn’t see the contents of the paintings. Bookshelves framed either side of the staircase, crammed full of hardbacks. Matthew would have to thoroughly explore them later.
Andrew motioned to the left archway. “There are the living and dining rooms.” A quick glance revealed another space full of plush furniture and a wall of windows overlooking the city. He motioned to the right archway. “That is the guest rooms, office, and workout room.” He pointed on either side of the staircase behind the stairs. “Through those doors are the kitchen, one bathroom, and the entrance to the garden. I’ll show you later.” He ascended the stairs, clearly expecting the pair of them to follow him.
Marcel walked beside him as they climbed upward. “He’s usually a much better host than this. He takes a lot of pride in his home. I’m sure you’ll get the grand tour after we’ve rested a bit.”
“That’s fine with me. I’m about to drop.” No truer words were ever spoken. He was past the point of exhaustion now. He barely registered the paintings or the tables as they walked by them. The bedroom door opened with a swish, and they were ensconced in a beautiful white and airy space. There was a set of sliding glass doors on one side of the room framed by white sheer curtains that matched the white canopied bed in the center of the room. The deep-blue-andsilver comforter beckoned. There was no dresser to speak of but a small white door that Matthew imagined was the closet. On the opposite wall by the large circular mirror was another, heavierlooking door.
“That’s the bathroom if anyone should need it,” Andrew said, stripping out of his black field shirt. Matthew followed suit, toeing off his shoes as he attacked his zipper. Within moments they were all naked. They crawled into the massive king bed without preamble. Matthew was asleep before his head hit the pillow.