Page 22 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

“Can I speak to you out here, please?” Lance asked from between his teeth, and Jackson gave Ellery an absent pat, as though Ellery—and John and Galen and Bobby—weren’t following him out to the corridor.

Jackson went through the door first, though, and he caught the solid left to his jaw.

“What in thehell!” Bobby was the one who caught Lance’s flailing arms, and John—smaller, not nearly as built—thrust himself between Lance and Jackson while Ellery bent to help him up.

“I’m fine,” Jackson muttered, shaking his shoulders and spitting blood. “C’mon, Lance, you gonna hit me again? Get it out. Go ahead and let him, John. He’s been dying to say this since Henry started working for us.”

“How could you!” Lance howled, obviously taking Jackson at his word even while Bobby pinned his shoulders. “How could you? Hetrustedyou! What did you have him doing? He went over to your house to play video games and then, what? You took him on a run? One more fucking run when you felt like hell? Isthat what happened? You took him on a run and got himshot,you fucker!Shot!”

“That’s not what happened!” Bobby shouted, and he must have wrenched on Lance as he hollered because Lance let out a sudden bark of pain.

“Bobby,” John said, his voice level and almost kind, “you are still officially on probation, remember? If security runs in here, we can’t fix that. Reg, you grab Lance.”

Reg, who was built like an average guy who worked out regularly, and not like a brick shithouse like the rest of the Johnnies boys, stepped forward gamely, but Dex was the one who took over for Bobby. Lance, aware suddenly that two men he admired and probably owed, if Dex and John’s history of helping their models out meant anything, were physically restraining him, sagged in Dex’s grip.

“What happened?” he gasped, his voice warbling but not broken, not yet.

“Lance,” Bobby said, bending down to make sure Lance saw his eyes. “It was my mom, dude. Henry was shot at my mom’s place. She was taking care of a kid, and Henry went there after he left Jackson’s. Jackson just ran through the rain and helped Dex find my mom and the kid. He didn’t get Henry shot, he saved mymom.”

“Your mom?” Lance shook his head like an awakening sleeper. “Bobby, man, why would somebody try to shoot your mom?”

“It was the kid she was guarding,” John said softly. “And Bobby, I’m sorry. The kid was scared, so we called Jackson and Ellery to tell them the story, but in a million years, we had no idea what kind of danger this kid was in. He… he was another street kid who hit on us, you know?”

“Like Cotton,” Bobby said. “And Randy. I know. Mom’s been….” He took his own deep breath. “She’s really proud ofwhat you and her and Galen do. Getting the kids off the street. Getting them help. You take care of us. You always have.” He turned that prematurely wise face toward Lance. “I don’t know what you’ve got against Rivers, man, but you have got to let it go. This wasn’t his fault. This was the fucker who shot Henry’s fault, and that’s all there was to it.”

Lance turned stricken eyes toward Jackson, who was glaring at him and spitting blood like he was ready to take another blow, and said, “Then why were you there? Why were you even at the apartment when Henry got shot?”

“He called me,” Jackson told him. “He called me when the assailant got to the apartment. We hauled ass over there while we were calling the cops.” He paused and glanced at Ellery. “Where the fuck are they, by the way?”

“Oh, we got your buddies,” John said. “Fetzer and Hardison. They took one glance at Ellery and told us they’d meet us here.”

“Oh shit,” Jackson muttered. “I’ve got to talk to cops tonight.” He gave Lance a sour look, his mouth puffy and a bruise already swelling under his eye. “Can somebody let him go so he can get me some fuckin’ ice?”

“I’ll get you ice, baby,” said a familiar voice. Ellery glanced over Lance’s shoulder to see a tall, whisper-thin Black man in nurse’s scrubs swanning down the corridor behind Lance. “And you”—he glared at Lance—“you go in that room with all your friends and try to remember your fucking manners before the security officers get here. I’d lie to them personally, but they’re nice men and I don’t wanna, so get gone.”

“Fuck,” Lance muttered, and it wasn’t Ellery’s imagination—apparently the fight and then getting the wind taken out of his sails had been what was needed to break him. Good. When Ellery had seen him last the man had been wound so tight he’d been going to shatter. Maybe a solid one-two punch of fury andguilt had softened him up enough to simply fracture, because that was easier to heal.

“Yes, fuck,” Dave retorted. He gave Bobby an assessing once-over. “If you promise not to kill him, you can go now.”

“I’ll go too,” John said, pausing to let Galen take his arm.

“You were going to let that gigantic teenager kill you,” Galen said accusingly.

“He’s a grown-assed man,” John said. “He’s a doctor, even.”

“I don’t care.” Galen grunted. “You and the letting people beat up on you. You suck. I can’t believe you talked me into bed the first time.”

John let out his goofy little laugh. “Youbeggedme the first time. It was the tenth or the fifteenth that were surprises to me. All the rest could be ascribed to a lapse in judgment.”

“Junkies are known to have them,” Galen retorted, and Ellery watched fondly as the porn mogul and the lawyer made their slow way back into the waiting room.

Lance was still there, and in spite of Dave’s obvious dismissal, so were Bobby, Reg, and Dex—and Dex hadn’t released Lance’s arms.

“I’m okay,” Lance said softly. “Dex, you can let me go now.”

“Can I?” Dex asked softly. “Because Kane’s coming down the hall with Frances in a few minutes, and it would really put a crimp in her day to wonder why her uncle Lance is being mean to Uncle Henry’s friend.”

Lance closed his eyes, like that last one was the worst blow that could have landed. “I promise,” he said, his voice throbbing with hurt. “I’m under control now.”

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