Sidelined (15 page)

Chapter Eleven

He answered the phone on the second ring. Bo hadn’t called him in so long he knew something was wrong. “My dad had a heart attack,” Bo said before he even had a chance to say hello. “My mom said not to come.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” He was headed home, this was their last bye week of this sorry season, and he wanted to just get lost somewhere where he wasn’t Levi Brody. He turned the car around at the next intersection and headed out of town instead. And then he remembered that he shouldn’t show up at Bo’s place. “Where’s Dylan?”

“At his physical therapy.” He could hear the anguish in Bo’s voice, he needed someone to be with him until Dylan got home. At least that’s what he told himself. He didn’t pry, but he knew things weren’t good. And this on top of everything else this season, was just more than Bo should have to handle alone.

“I’m on my way.” He didn’t care if Bo said no. He needed to make sure he was okay. His dad didn’t deserve it, but Bo loved him. His mom just didn’t know how to function with any sense at all, it seemed. But to tell him not to come to the man’s funeral was just going a tad too far. “Is that okay?”

The line stayed silent for a moment, he actually looked at the phone to see if he’d lost connection. “Yeah. It’s okay.” He wouldn’t read anything into this development. This was just one teammate…one friend…comforting another. He stopped to wonder if Dylan even knew about them. Fear trickled down his spine. He hoped not. The Marine was scary as fuck.

He let himself in with the key he’d never returned to Bo. Bo looked up from where he sat on the sofa and smiled. “A kilt, Five? It’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“What? It matches the blue combat boots. You like?” He turned a full circle for Bo to admire him. “Excessive will be later when I dress this up.”

Bo studied him with the patience of a saint. He got him, he might not understand what really drove him, but Bo never told him to stop being who he was. Sometimes, when they were together, he even played along. This wouldn’t be one of those times, but he turned and lifted the back of his kilt.

“Just like Mel….FREEDOM!”

Bo laughed for a moment before going quiet. “You shouldn’t have come. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’m here now. The party doesn’t start until I arrive anyway. And it’s not even dark yet.” He went into the kitchen and brought back two beers and a bag of chips. “I’m starving. Forgot to eat today.”

“You need to stop forgetting to eat, Five, it’s affecting your game.” Bo took the drink and declined the chips.

“I’m off this week, so what does it matter? Free tonight and tomorrow night. Tell me what happened.” He sat on the sofa and propped his boot up on the coffee table. Bo placed his bare foot beside his. They hadn’t slept together in months, but they were still friends. He held the bag over, and Bo took a chip this time.

“I’m not really sure. I called Janine, and she said he was on the football field. They couldn’t revive him. I guess if he had to go, at least it was someplace he loved being.” Bo choked back the sob. He swiped his eyes with his hand. “I need to go home. I need to at least be there.”

“When is the funeral? I’ll go with you. To hell with what your mom says. He was your dad.” He swigged his beer down, his heart racing.

“There isn’t going to be one. Just a small memorial service tonight. He’ll be cremated, and Mom said she’d let me know after that. He didn’t even want the service, but she’s doing it for the community. I could be there in a couple of hours. All I have to do is call Dale, and he’ll get me on the company jet.” Bo leaned against him, his hands shaking. He took the beer from him and set it on the table before pulling him close. Bo’s face pressed into his neck. His fingers dug into his kilt pleats. This wasn’t sexual. But he responded anyway. It was a hell of a fucking long time since he’d been with Bo. “I miss you so damned much.” The words were whispered. It was grief. Nothing more. “He won’t let me touch him. He won’t touch me. I don’t know what to do, Levi. I need him, but he won’t be…he doesn’t see me.”

“Oh, baby.” He wrapped Bo in his arms. He could tell it was bad. But he guessed that it was just setbacks with the medical issues Dylan had. Learning to walk again, gaining weight, muscle mass, that sort of thing. He didn’t know there was more. He didn’t know what to tell him, or how to comfort him. He knew sex. That was what worked in the past. And Bo was hard beneath his jeans. The last time they were together was the night before the Super Bowl. He knew it wasn’t right then. Not with Dylan being alive. They’d said good-bye that night. And then won the freaking game, for Bo’s boyfriend.

His kilt climbed his leg, Bo’s tears turned to heavy breathing against his neck. He let Bo push him back against the seat. God, he was hungry for Bo, but Bo was hungrier. He shoved his hand between Levi’s legs, and Levi spread wide for him. It would be hot. Just the two of them. Right here on the couch. No condom. Just the way it was. He didn’t have to worry with Bo.

Bo growled into his neck and hauled him into his lap. He fumbled with his jeans before pressing them together. Levi didn’t think, he just let Bo take over. He loved when Bo took over. Bo loved to fuck. And he loved to be fucked by Bo. He let Bo bring him to the edge, and then he knew he’d be deep inside him.

Neither of them heard the door open. Or Dylan cross the room. The hand around his neck startled him at first. He saw the look of horror in Bo’s eyes and felt his windpipe close. The floor hurt like hell when he hit it. Dylan didn’t say a word when he pulled him one-armed across the floor. Levi clawed the hand that held him. He couldn’t breathe, and then he could. He managed to suck in a ragged breath when the first blow came. Dylan’s hand rose to hit him again. Levi realized he sat on him, just as Bo caught his arm.

“Dylan! Don’t.”

“I’ll kill him for touching you. I’ll kill him.” Levi had never seen anyone so angry. Rage, hardcore rage, like nothing he’d ever seen sat atop him. And he deserved it. He didn’t fight back. There was nothing to say. Bo dragged Dylan away. Picking the lighter man up and forcing him off Levi. “You’ve been with him. All this time? I’ll tear you apart. Fuck you both.” Dylan landed a hard blow to Bo’s head. But Bo didn’t flinch, he pushed him farther into the room away from Levi.

“Listen to me, Dylan.” Bo slammed him into the wall and held him. “It was me. Not him. It was me. Be mad at me. My fault. Mine. Not his.”

“Fuck you, and your girlfriend. You can’t even find a real man to cheat on me with. What the fuck good are you?”

Levi backed away, hoping like hell he was near the door. He should get Bo out too. But he had no idea how to do that. Dylan hit him. And this time, Bo hit him back. Dylan looked at him with huge eyes. “You’re right. I cheated. I did. It’s me you should be angry with. Me, not Levi.”

Dylan looked over at him with recognition in his eyes. And horror. “Levi? Brody? He’s the…why?”

“His dad had a heart attack today. He died. And you weren’t here.” Levi scrambled to his feet and wiped blood from his mouth.

“Go, Levi, okay, just…go,” Bo, still holding Dylan against the wall, turned to face him, his face was bruised, his eyes dead. “I’ll see you at practice.”

And Levi ran. Like a fucking coward. Leaving Bo with that psychopath. Because he was too damned gutless to fight for what he wanted.

* * * * *

Levi hit the floor like a rock. This wasn’t like yesterday on the patio, he was out cold. Tracy ignored the guards and the judge and climbed over the wall separating him from Levi. The gavel banged relentlessly until the judge figured out something was wrong. “Take these cuffs off him.” Tracy pushed his luck in demanding. “He’s not going anywhere, for God’s sake, and neither am I.”

The judge left the bench, ordering the cuffs removed. Tracy was aware that the cameras were still in the courtroom as he bent over Levi. Bowen Murphy was there beside him. Dylan and Dale Shannon behind the wall looking on. “He looked strange when he came in. Favoring his arm. The cuffs wouldn’t…he shouldn’t have been cuffed. His arm is…dammit, Levi, come on, baby, let me see those pretty eyes.” He patted Levi’s face, brushing back his shaggy hair. He was too pale. “Call an ambulance.”

The judge stood by, his arms over his chest, watching. He looked pissed. And Tracy knew from past experience that everything that had gone on in this courtroom today was way overboard. Levi’s eyes fluttered and opened, he growled a curse and tried to curl into a ball. “Fuck, make it stop.”

“Make what stop?” Tracy took his bad arm, and Levi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at just the slightest touch. Not good.

“The nightmare. I can’t wake up from it. I can’t feel my fucking arm. These assholes thought it was funny to haul me around by it.” Oh, he could feel the arm, Tracy didn’t doubt that. He barely touched him, and Levi howled and passed out again.

“Most likely separated the shoulder again. He couldn’t even lift it over his head, yesterday. And he supposedly held down a physically fit teenager? I don’t know what’s going on, but he didn’t deserve this.” Tracy cradled Levi in his arms, lifting him off the floor. “Show me where to take him.”

“My chambers.” The judge turned to both lawyers and pointed. “All of you.”

“And Mr. Shannon. He was Levi’s coach, he needs to be included.” Tracy had no idea what the hell he was doing. But somehow he knew he had to do everything he could to protect Levi. No one else seemed willing to do so. At least four from New Orleans came back to support him—the coach, Bo, Dylan, and the one they called Slayer.

When the ambulance came, he went with them. Levi woke up again, in incredible pain. The paramedics had the good drugs and knocked him back out again. But Levi held his hand with his good one. Right up until they took him from the ER into surgery.

Bo, Dylan, Dale Shannon, and Jude Brody waited with him. Jude asking him questions. Lots of questions. The case wasn’t being dropped. Not yet. Levi was still in danger. He called his mom and his sister to tell them to expect a call. But they already knew. They were all over the news. CNN, ESPN, even the freaking BBCA. His sister warned him that the principal was asking questions. And the athletic director. He’d missed the first teacher work day of the new school year. And Levi was most likely correct. But Tracy didn’t want to think about that right now.

Chapter Twelve

Their season ended unceremoniously the night before. One of the worst seasons on record. Tracy was just thrilled to be the coach to officially take the team into the basement. No play-offs for the East County Pirates. Maybe next year. Friends had convinced him to tag along with them over to New Orleans for Halloween weekend. And he was just depressed enough to go with them. Too bad there was no big game in town Sunday, he would have paid scalper rates to get in. But New Orleans was sucking just as badly if not worse than his team had. Most of the team from the previous year had been traded off at the end of the season. Just Brody and a handful of other players were holding it together. But if you watched close enough, you could tell Brody wasn’t bringing his A game.

He could tell because he’d watched Brody play every damn chance he got. He studied him. And lately, he’d been favoring his shoulder. It wasn’t obvious. But Tracy could tell. He was getting the job done as best he could, but there was little support on the field. He was getting sacked more and more with each game. If he managed to get the ball down the field, Murphy would come through, but even the two of them couldn’t play the game by themselves.

He went to dinner with his straight friends and their girlfriends. And wondered why he bothered coming along at all. They stayed to Bourbon Street and the mainstream bars. When Tracy craved something more outside the box. Fuck, he was in New Orleans, and he was going to get laid if it killed him. But he wouldn’t do it following this bunch around.

“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” he told his friends. “The late night and early morning are hitting me hard.” They understood, the drive from North Alabama in the middle of the night wasn’t something he’d wanted to do, but the budget didn’t allow for hotels. And the boys didn’t want to hang around after the game to wallow in their loss. He slept on the bus. But he didn’t tell them that.

“Pity, but hey, you earned it, Tracy.” Yeah, he’d earned this. He needed something to take the edge off, or he was going to go batshit crazy.

When he found a cab, he sat in the backseat with no idea where he wanted to go. He had a list of gay clubs and bars but no idea where would be the best place for what he needed. The cabbie turned around after Tracy didn’t answer his question for the second time.

“What you looking for, son?” The ageless eyes seemed to peer clear through him. “Your friends too wholesome? And you need something not so wholesome?”

Tracy looked at the floor then back to the cabbie. “Something like that.”

“Boy or man?” The cabbie pegged him with a stare that sent shivers down Tracy’s spine. What the hell kind of question—

“Man,” he sputtered a bit. “Legal. No prostitutes. Or drugs. Clean. But not too clean.”

“I know a place.” The cabbie smiled back, revealing a couple of gold teeth. “It’ll cost you. But I know a place.”

In the end, it cost him a couple of fifties to get in. And the cabbie gave him his card for when it was time to go home. Because Tracy had no fucking idea where he was. Somewhere not even in the French Quarter. At all. Some big derelict-looking warehouse on the river and not much else stared back at him. He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders and hoped like hell the old man wasn’t sending him into something he couldn’t get out of. But the password the driver gave him worked, and the music that pounded out the door when it opened said he’d found the right place.