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“What are you talking about? What do you mean by ‘it’s you’?”
“I’m not staying anywhere for more than a day and who knows where I’ll be tomorrow,” Francis explained but Speed made apfft!sound.
“We can find you a good place. You don’t need to keep running like that.”
“I was kind of thinking the same thing. What if I came and stayed with you for a while?”
That stopped Speed in his tracks.
“Speed?”
“No… You can’t come here,” he said slowly, stalling until he tripped over the obvious. “I’m… I’m not alone.”
“Oh?”
Speed couldn’t tell if Francis was surprised or disgusted but he went with it. And Speed alsohopedthat something different might happen and that Francis wouldn’t disappoint him this time.
“He doesn’t know about you and I wouldn’t be able to hide you from him,” Speed said, then held his breath. He wanted Francis to hear and answer the statement Speedshouldhave said: I wouldn’t be able to hide him from you.
“No. That wouldn’t work, would it?” Francis agreed, his voice loaded with so much accusation, rejection, and disdain.
“Francis—!” Speed clenched his jaw to keep from swearing and begging Francis to please just get over it and be happy for him. Instead, he breathed through the hard, twisting ache in his center. Speed knew it was the kid in him, the last vestiges of himself that lived for Francis and loved him, being smothered and crushed.
“Forget about it. You’ve got other things to worry about,” Francis muttered.
“It doesn’t have to be that way. We could take care of each other but you—”
“I said forget about it,” Francis bit back sharply. “I never needed you to take care of me, did I?”
“No, but we could find you someplace safe to hide for as long as you need.”
“I’m good for now but I’ll let you know if I change my mind. I’ll check in with you soon.”
“Alright. Take care of yourself, Francis.”
“You too,” he said, then hung up.
Speed tossed the phone on the counter and punched at the air, spewing silent curses. He let his rage out like a burst of steam, careful not to hurt his left arm. Once the fire in his brain and his heart had reduced to a smolder, Speed started pacing and processing. Too much had happened all at once and Speed didn’t know what to make of the call.
Francis had sounded strange from the beginning but Speed hadn’t been able to isolate the cause before the conversation snowballed.
Was he just frustrated with the lack of results or had Francis found something that had made him suspicious? Was he embarrassed or hurt because Speed said he couldn’t stay with him? Did he feel betrayed because Speed was moving on so soon after Mickey’s death? Or was Francis mad at Speed for being gay again?
“He’d say something if he found something weird,” Speed told himself. And Francis always went cold at the first hint of Speed having any sort of personal life because that would always involve men. “I can’t take any more chances,” he decided because Speed was beginning to fear that Lavender was right and his new life might be at risk. He decided he’d already damned himself so he pulled his other phone from inside his coat and sent Lavender a text. Then, Speed dialed the number Agent Beesley had given him. It rang twice.
“I’m glad you called. What can I do for you, Speed?” He asked quietly but the low rumble was smooth and confident, putting Speed at ease.
“I’m ready to give you that number now but you can’t forget what I told you. He’ll know it was me if he finds out thatanyoneelse has this number. The only way I’d give it up is if I’d sold him out.”
“He’ll never know,” Beesley stated and Speed believed him.
“Good. If you get a location and can pick him up without Francis knowing you have that number, you should go ahead and do it. I don’t know where his head is at right now,” Speed admitted.
“Ok. And I’ll let you know if we see him getting too close to Lake Cliff.”
“He’s too smart to turn his phone on if he was around here but I’d appreciate that.”
“Thanks for the call. I’ll return the favor as soon as we have something,” Beesley said, then hung up.
