Chapter Seven.

They were maybe four miles out when Luke finally eased his foot off the gas. Grady sat beside him, leaning against the door, his forehead touching the cool glass. There were no other cars on the road, but Luke found himself checking the mirror every few seconds. He expected lights every time.

Even so, Luke was not freaking out. Somehow, in the eye of the storm, he had achieved a state of calm. The situation was basically shit, yes. He admitted that. But it was not complete shit, and he repeated that sentiment to himself. He had a small plan formed. A simple, over the counter, comes-in-a-box sort of plan, but that was fine. They needed that. He went over it in his head and listened to Grady’s slow, even breaths.

He saw the moment play out again in his mind’s eye. It still felt totally unreal. There was the moment of his realization and then a gap in his memory, and then he was forcing Grady into the car.

“Get dressed,” he remembered snapping, as he slid into the driver’s seat. His senses were on high alert. He felt he could hear Grady’s quick pulse, could smell the freshness of the dirt on him, the blood, and the sharp scent of urine. He could smell the old fear and lingering shock, sickly sweet.

Grady’s face was pasty and gray, like a dead person’s, and his eyes were red and ringed in shadow. He fumbled with the bag of clothing in his lap, moving gingerly, but he obeyed. Luke had hardly looked at him since dragging him from the clearing. He just drove, sinking deeper and deeper into his head as the potential implications of the last thirty minutes unfolded, one by one, in his head. He ruminated on them each before deciding on a workable series of future events.

He turned off the next exit and got back onto the highway, heading in the direction from which they’d come. “We’re going back to the hotel,” he said, tightly. “We’re going to check out, and then we’re leaving.” He looked over. “All right?”

Grady looked at him. He spoke very carefully, favoring his abused throat. “They’ll think it’s the monster dog.”

Luke shot him a worried glance. “Baby, we are monster dogs.”

Grady’s mouth pressed into a deep frown. He still looked hazy, a cloud lingering in his eyes. It scared Luke, and he wondered about permanent damage.

“No,” Grady said. “I saw it in the paper.” His eyes were bloodshot, vessels had burst under pressure, and there was bruising at his neck.

“Okay. You understand, though? You understand what’s happening right now? We’re going back to the hotel. I’m going to pack. Quickly. I’m going to check out, and then we’re leaving the city. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Grady whispered, sliding his gaze away.

The fields were isolated. The wooded area was largely brush, regrowing after an old fire. No one camped there, Grady had told him that. The packs used it. He told himself it was more than possible another wolf would discover the body. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. A few cars had remained when he peeled back onto the road, and someone must have heard something.

They would recognize Taylor for what he was and they would handle it themselves. The communities were self contained. This kind of management was essential to their very existence. He could bring Grady to Hayward and they would live quietly and normally.

Luke was both relieved and frustrated at not having connected with any of the wolves in Lincoln. On the one hand he was a stranger to them. He doubted they knew what he looked like, or if he even existed. On the other hand, he would give almost anything to know what was happening in those woods. He passed the turnoff to the fields, and sped up. The sooner they got out of there, the better.

Luke found street parking in front of the Merc and pulled Grady out of the car with him. Luke threw everything he had into his suitcase and breezed through the checkout. Not twenty minutes had gone by before they were sliding back in to the car and pulling out onto the road. Grady fell asleep beside him.

The hours passed. They could have been in Hayward before three but by six o’clock Luke was checking them in to a beachside motel in Santa Cruz. The room was small, with a television and one full sized bed. Grady shut himself up in the bathroom and Luke drew the curtains. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the memory to his offices. Grateful when he was clicked over to voicemail, Luke left a brief message that he would be out of town for the rest of the week due to a family emergency.

Grady came out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Luke studied him for a long moment. He reached out to finger a lock of hair, and Grady looked up.

“You hungry?” Luke asked.

Grady watched him, wearily. “This isn’t Hayward,” he said at last.

Luke sat beside him on the bed. “I wanted to get you out of Lincoln. Thought you might like the beaches here.”

Grady nodded his head, looking down at the carpet. It was a basically hideous orange shag. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Luke sucked in a deep breath and held it for a minute before releasing, slowly. “Why?” he asked. “Grady, why did you…? I had him. We had him.”

Grady moved his gaze over the floor and up the dresser, catching their dim reflections in the dark screen of the television, and he lifted his shoulders in a long, drawn out shrug. “I just… had to.” He looked over sharply, his gray eyes intense. “He did other stuff. Before that. Before I met you.”

Luke’s palm found the back of Grady’s neck. “Okay,” he said.

“No one goes there,” Grady repeated. “And there’s the monster dog.”

Luke frowned. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Grady finally curled up over the blankets and fell asleep instantly. Luke was tired but wanted to stay alert. He turned the television on low volume and paced around the room, picking things up, reading the brochures on the table, listening to the news.

He spent a lot of time watching Grady, too. Sitting in the desk chair and just frowning at him from across the room. The sight of Grady lying flat on the ground with the bastard’s hands around his throat had deeply affected Luke. Hours after that icy terror first gripped him, and still he felt numbed by it. And Grady, he looked like a ghost. Luke made the conscious decision to protect him now at all and any cost.

When the sun went down he woke Grady and they walked along the shore. They kept well away from the Boardwalk, with all its noise, lights and people, and Luke bought Grady a scarf from an open vendor. They shared a basket of sweet potato fries and went back to the motel.

Grady’s eyes were drooping so they went to bed. Luke woke up several times in the night, overcome with fear that Grady’s throat may have swollen shut, but he felt and listened for his breathing every time, and every time it was there.

In the office the next morning Luke’s palms sweat heavily. But they checked out of the motel without incident, and the only cops he saw were the ones busting stoners on the beach. Grady waited for him by the car, wearing his new red scarf. They drove inland for a while and stayed at another motel. They passed six days like this before Luke suggested they move on to Hayward. He’d been checking the papers every day and every day he found nothing. Grady seemed a little better now, too. Luke could see a certain weight in his gaze that had been absent before.

They were lying together in a room outside Salinas when he mentioned it. The early morning light glowed dimly around the dark fall of curtains over the window, and beside him Grady pretended to sleep. They had not been intimate since leaving Lincoln. Grady had retreated into his head and Luke wanted to give him space. He told himself there was time.

“What do you think about heading home?” he asked, quietly. The morning was so still, it seemed intrusive to speak above a whisper. “My home. Hayward.” He gave Grady’s arm a brief squeeze.

Grady said nothing for several long minutes, and Luke began to think he’d been mistaken in thinking he was awake. Then he felt Grady shift beside him, and then the tickling brush of eyelashes against his skin.

“Hayward?” Luke could the hear the frown in Grady’s tone. His voice still sounded a little off, a little hoarse. “I shouldn’t even be here,” he said.

“What?” Luke lifted his head.

Grady rolled away and grasped the edge of the blankets, as if he were about to throw them off and leave the warmth of the bed. Luke grasped his arm and pulled him back, pressing the length of his body against Grady’s. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He buried his nose in Grady’s hair. It smelled like the cheap shampoo they’d been using. He breathed deep. He placed his palm over Grady’s chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart. “Answer me.”

Grady seemed to quiver. He said nothing.

Luke slid his palm up over Grady’s collarbone, smoothing his fingers over the dip at the base of his throat, and then farther up, over the dark bruises he knew were there. Grady stiffened at the touch but Luke did not stop. “Shh,” he said, “Shh,” and after a moment the body in his arms lost some of its tension.

“You could get in trouble,” Grady said at last.

“I won’t,” Luke said.

“I’m too fucked up.”

“Grady, that’s… silly.”

“I stole twenty bucks out of your wallet.”

Luke frowned against the back of Grady’s head. He did not remember missing any cash, but had to admit that he probably would not have noticed. “When? Why?”

“In Lincoln. The morning before…” He trailed off. “That day we went to the movies.”

“Hm.” Luke stroked his palm down Grady’s chest and belly, feeling the muscles jump under his touch. It should have bothered him. “You could have asked,” he pointed out.

Grady turned his head. Their faces were so close that Luke had to lean in, if only for a taste. The seconds ticked by and finally, reluctantly, he pulled away.

Grady’s eyes were shut and his breaths had deepened. “You just would have said yes.”

Luke could feel Grady’s words as little puffs against his mouth. He stifled the abrupt smile. “Do you need money?” He wondered if losing six hundred dollars would ever have seemed so devastating to him.

Grady’s eyes were open, barely, and Luke could see twin slivers of gray. He felt under the blankets and cupped his hand over Grady’s erection. The body pressed to his jerked in surprise, and Luke rubbed the heel of his palm over Grady’s cock through his shorts. They were loose cotton, already damp at the front, and he slipped his hand inside. Grady made a small sound at the back of his throat and Luke stroked him slowly for several minutes. His boy was hot and stiff in his palm, and so eager. Grady writhed and squirmed against Luke’s chest, breathing in fast, shallow pants. He covered Luke’s hands and wrists with his own, pushing and pulling and pressing and pushing.

Grady buried his face into the pillow and Luke buried his in Grady’s neck. “You need money, Grady?” he asked huskily.

Grady merely rubbed his face against the pillow in response.

Abruptly, Luke removed his hands from Grady’s cock. He hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of the shorts and pushed them down. “Answer me,” he said, firmly.

“Yes,” Grady hissed, and Luke gripped his backside with one hand. He slid between Grady’s cheeks and ground his hips slowly, dick gliding. He shifted them so that he lay over Grady, pressing him bodily into the mattress.

He bit down over the back of Grady’s neck, gently at first, and then with pressure. Grady bucked underneath him and groaned.

Luke found Grady’s wrists and guided them up over his head. He held them there and continued rocking his hips. Grady straining and wriggling against him was absolutely delicious. “You don’t get any,” he growled, establishing a rhythm. “I look after you now. There’s anything you need, you come to me.”

Grady’s head thrashed in something like a nod. His reply came breathless and muffled.

Rubbing like this was good, but Luke wanted more. Nearly a week of not having Grady caught him in a sudden, heady rush. “Gonna fuck you now,” he said, roughly, “Okay?”

Grady had hardly given his response when Luke was kneeling at his bag, digging for a condom. He quickly returned and rolled one on. Grady had turned over and was staring up at him, eyes feverish and twin spots of color standing bright on his cheeks. Luke pushed Grady’s knees toward his chest, knocking him back. His thumb sank past the tight ring of muscle, and he listened to Grady loudly pant. That’s it, he thought, breathe. Luke pressed the head of his dick against Grady’s hole and pushed inside. He thrust his hips slow at first, measuring, but then he moved fast and even, watching Grady jerk himself, watching Grady’s balls go tight as he finally shot over his belly, moaning through his teeth.

Luke held Grady’s hips up as he pumped hard and quick, emptying himself. When he finally pulled out, Luke quickly disposed of the condom and crawled back into bed, holding Grady to him. Grady panted into his neck for a long time and Luke smoothed the dimpled gooseflesh that appeared across his shoulders and upper arms.

“You have to stay with me,” Luke told him, passing his hand over Grady’s head. It was sweaty and hot like a baby’s. He felt Grady’s response in the way he pressed his body to Luke’s. They slept late and almost missed check out time.

***

The frank knowledge of what Grady had done was intellectually disturbing to Luke. After all, he had committed murder. But Luke could not reconcile the term ‘murderer’ with the solemn eyed young man chosen for him. And if he were pressed, Luke could think of a thing or two he might kill a man for, and could not fault Grady for feeling the same. Also, he could not find it in himself to mourn the loss of Kevin Taylor.

They stopped for lunch in Gilroy and ate on the patio of a small burger joint. Grady was feeling talkative, but after so many days of gloomy silence Luke thought that a good sign. For his part, he was content to quietly enjoy the babble. The burst vessels in Grady’s eyes were mostly cleared, and with his scarf and hoarse throat, it was almost as if he’d only caught a bad cold.

Grady liked the rolling yellow hills and said so. Even the scent of garlic, which Luke wasn’t sure he could live with, seemed to rouse him. He was in the middle of speculating on life in Hayward when their food arrived. He lapsed into silence as the platters were set down. Luke said thank you and they were alone again.

Luke drizzled mustard and ketchup over his burger. Roasted garlic sat over tomato and lettuce and blackened Angus beef.

Then Grady said, “I think we’re okay,” with an air of finality, and sipped his chocolate malt.

Luke looked up at him.

Grady was nodding. “Yeah, I don’t know. My gut’s saying, though. You know, it’s saying… what could happen?”

Luke glanced to his left, and then to his right. They were alone. He looked at Grady, with his eyebrows raised. “Are you really asking?” He held up his hand and ticked the points off on his fingers. “You could get arrested. I could get arrested. You could be convicted. You could kill someone in captivity when the moon is up. They would shoot you dead, or worse.” He leaned in over the table. “Grady, that is what could happen. Hello?”

Grady’s shoulders slumped a little. He looked suddenly doubtful. Luke could almost see the shadow of that cloud returning. “You think so?”

Luke sat back, and expelled a short burst of air, eyeing the anxious figure sitting across the table. “No,” he said, honestly. After all, wasn’t his gut telling him the same? “I don’t think so. You’re right. We’re good. I wouldn’t have suggested going home if I didn’t believe that. Really.” He offered a smile. “What changed your mind?”

“Well,” Grady began, “I was just thinking. I mean, who,” he paused, spreading his hands out in an encompassing gesture, “gives a fuck about Kevin Taylor? We were squatting in that building. Lincoln wasn’t his hometown, he’d been traveling for years when I met him. The community wouldn’t have him. And I don’t have so much as a fucking driver’s license, man. I don’t have a birth certificate. I don’t know my own social security number--hell, do I even have one? I didn’t graduate high school. I’ve never had a real job. I’m a nobody. I’m a fucking no one.” He sat back in the seat with his arms out to either side of him, inviting criticism. His red eyes were bright and that wide, flat smile was there.

Luke studied him for a moment, and looked back down at his plate. He turned the points over in his mind and nodded slowly. All of that could work to their advantage. If, a part of him needled, Taylor was even found by the police. It was so easy to be comfortable with this notion of being free and clear. He merely grunted once and took a big bite out of his burger, chewing and mulling.

After a few minutes he said, “Still have to be careful.”

“Oh, sure,” Grady said readily, picking at his fries. He breathed in deep the fresh, cool air, looking around. “Love how this place smells,” he said.

Grady hung around out front of the restaurant while Luke paid. He kept an eye on Luke’s back, taking the opportunity to appreciate the solid breadth of his mate’s shoulders and the hard line of his back.

The truth was, he hardly remembered that morning in the woods at all. The truth was, he’d thought he was going to die, strangled there in the dirt, and then all of a sudden he was walking and Kevin was there and it had to be done.

Truth was, he didn’t even feel sorry for it. Grady smiled tightly to himself. He thought of that six hundred dollars, and it didn’t even matter. He thought of all the shit Kevin had done to him, all the times he’d messed with his head or hurt him. At the moment, six hundred dollars didn’t seem like much of a loss after all.

Luke’s rough words from that morning came back to him, and his face went warm. I look after you now, he’d said. You come to me.

Grady pressed his mouth into a thin line. He watched Luke pocket his change and pluck candy from a green bowl. He stepped out into the sun.

“Hey,” Grady said. It was not quite so cool here but he wore the scarf anyway. The bruises stood out on his skin and he didn’t like for people to see them.

“Hey.” Luke dropped a peppermint wheel into his palm, already sucking on one. “Ready to hit the road?”

Grady kicked the dirt up on their way over to the car. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

The Pontiac chirped and the locks clicked. Grady slid into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. He took the twenty out of his pocket and stuffed it in the drink holder. Luke climbed in and shut the door, glancing over at him. His eyes lingered and it took a couple tries to get the key into the ignition.

Grady reached out. “Hey,” he began, putting his hand over Luke’s arm. He could feel the hard bulk of skin and muscle under fabric, and was reminded again of his mate’s strength.

“What is it?” Luke watched him carefully, one of those frowns threatening. They pulled out of the lot and drove through the small downtown area. It was a little run down, the old retro signs sun bleached and drooping, but Grady liked it.

“Is Hayward like this?”

“Like Gilroy? No. But there’s plenty to do. You can take the train just about anywhere around the Bay. You can see Berkeley, San Francisco, Oakland. Lots to do.”

Grady said, “Hm,” and peered out the window. A pale dead gaze jumped to his mind’s eye and he frowned, tapping his pursed lips with one finger. No, he thought, dismissing the notion. He was long gone. And Grady was with Luke now. He was safe. He could a get a job, get friends. Maybe his GED. Who knew?

Luke found the onramp and the Pontiac joined traffic on 101, heading home.

End of part one. Continued in The Crescent Sky: Blood Moon.

Thank you for reading!