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“But you almost smiled when you said it.” Warmth returned to his expression. “Take care of that big asshole. If he gets on your nerves too much, you can always come find me. I have a lot to offer a woman.”
Brick snorted. Les looked over her shoulder and up to find him at the screen door behind them. From Rufus’s wink, she suspected he’d known when Brick arrived there.
“No woman is coming home to this dump of a trailer,” Brick said.
“Don’t disrespect the trailer. You see Lethal Weapon? Mel lived in a trailer, and women found him irresistible. Rene Russo lived with him there."
"A trailer on the beach. Plus, that's a movie. Riggs lived in the trailer with Lorna, not Mel with Rene. As in not real life."
“All stories are based on real life,” Rufus responded. “Just wait and see. Even the songs say so. I’ll find the ‘Queen of my Double Wide’ eventually.”
He glanced at his watch. “Oh, shit, I’m going to be late. Since I’m doing roll call, I better get my ass in gear. Unless I want to abuse my power and use the siren to clear Richmond traffic out of my way.”
“Why would today be different from any other day?”
“Fuck off,” Rufus told him affably. He stood up with Les and moved off the stoop, letting Brick emerge and join them on the ground. The two men clasped hands and bumped shoulders.
“Go get the bad guys,” Brick told him. “And stay safe.”
“Same goes, bro. Always.”
After they left Rufus’s, Brick picked up sandwiches for them and drove her toward the Potterfield bridge. She didn’t say much in the truck, and he didn’t press her. When Rufus had told her his story, she’d opened her heart to him and his experience, but she’d shut her own tightly, afraid of what might pour out in front of him.
Now she let herself open that door just a little, enough to think about the question she’d asked him. How did she go forward?
She wondered about his partner, those last few seconds when Bobbi had been standing on the edge between life and death. Had it been a quiet spot, a place to hold her breath, her heart, waiting to see if a different answer came? Or had there been no doubt, because what overrode everything else was the roaring pain of a single question.
How do I deserve to live, when that man who pleaded for my help is dead?
Llanzo had been three years old. He was learning to ride a tricycle, had begun to speak in sentences.
When the force of the thought made her tremble, a strong hand closed over hers. Held her. Brick was here. She kept her eyes closed, but gripped back.
Bobbi killing herself had been pouring a glass of water onto sand. A waste, just as much as the man’s life she’d been unable to save. But Les couldn’t deny she understood the agony that might have driven her to do it. As Rufus had said, no punishment, no penance seemed enough.
She opened her eyes when the truck came to a stop. They’d reached the park. Its central feature, the vast pedestrian bridge spanning the James River between Brown’s Island and Manchester, was a popular place. Even from this distance, a few hundred yards away, she could see walkers, bikers, and joggers crossing the metal and wood structure.
As those pedestrians enjoyed the nature and city views, including the 9th Street Manchester bridge that spanned the river further upstream, kayakers paddled on the whitewater below. Herons and seagulls fished along the thick lace of vegetation on the banks, and perched among the rocks planted in the water. Through her open window, she inhaled the scents of the river, and heard the rush of the water. Picnic goers dotted the green spaces flanking the walkway to the bridge.
Brick came around and opened her door. “Hungry, or do you want to do some walking before we find a place to eat our lunch?”
“Let’s walk,” she said.
He unbuckled her seatbelt, then put his arm around her waist, bringing her out of the truck. She slid to her feet against his resilient body. He didn’t back up, continuing to hold her as she found the ground. Placing her hand on his chest, she looked up at him.
“I get why you did it. But you didn’t have to set me up. You could have just told me why we were going there.”
“Yeah. I would have.” She saw regret in his features. “I didn’t want to keep it from you. But I was giving Rufus the out. I told him I wasn’t going to tell you ahead of time, so there’d be no expectations if he didn’t feel like he could talk about it.”
Knowing he hadn’t “made” Rufus do it helped, and reinforced his staunch defense of Brick. “What do you think about what she did?” she ventured.
Brick’s mouth tightened. “She wounded him down to the soul. He had trouble coming back from it, no matter how tough he looks. Though I know the worst thing she did was to herself, I’ve had a hard time forgiving her for that.” He looked away, though his hands remained on her. She put her forehead on his chest.
A moment later, he ran his hands up and down her arms, an easier caress. “Want to think about other things?”
“Yes, please.” She tipped her head back, managing a faint smile. “I also want to talk about you. You seem to be a step ahead of me, holding the upper hand on so many things.”
His look stayed serious. “I hold the upper hand because you give that to me, Les. I respond to your desire, what you need and want. With the right match between Dom and sub, that’s how it works.”
