Dry Run Page 8

  Devin crooked a finger and caught Joe’s pinky. He twined their fingers together just as Joe slapped a palm into his chest. “Wait. There they are. See the man with the short shorts?”

  “With the blond lady in the red dress? He looks like an idiot in those things. His balls are practically hanging out.”

  “Oops, there goes one now.” They shared a chuckle before Joe grew serious again. “Northern fashion. Completely impractical. And even half naked, they think the heat down here is going to kill them. Since he wants to chase us both, we get to run together. That won’t happen often, but it’ll be good for your first time. Stay with me.”

  Joe stashed the backpack in a low tree bough. While Devin waited, his heart beat faster and faster. Anticipation and anxiety ran through him, and he was so glad Joe would be with him the whole time. The absence of any kinky stuff was a big plus, too, but he was still trying not to think about that part.

  “Ready?” Joe asked.

  “You have the uh, thing?” Devin gestured behind Joe’s back. “From earlier?”

  “I do.” Joe stood right in front of Devin and held his shoulders. “But I don’t need it. I promise you’ll be safe, Devin. I won’t let you get hurt.”

  “Okay, yeah, you’re right. I… Yeah.” Devin pushed away Joe’s hands and smacked his chest, sending Joe a step back. “Let’s do this.”

  Joe slapped Devin across the chest, too, and gave him a big smile. “That’s my boy. Note the time. We give him a tour of the city, then lead him back after forty-five minutes so he can show off for his wife. Let’s go.”

  The walk to the man and his wife was filled with bluster. Joe and Devin banged shoulders and laughed a little too loud, and Joe shoved Devin sideways by the head. The rough play helped calm Devin’s nerves. He could do this. He jumped in place a couple of times as Joe did the talking.

  “Excuse me, my friend and I are students on a field trip from the University of Pittsburgh. We were horsing around a bit and lost our tour group. Could we borrow your phab to make a quick call?”

  While the man, hands shaking, fumbled in his pocket for his phablet, the woman sized up Joe and Devin. For years, Devin had fantasized about the attention of a woman, any woman, like the heroines of his mother’s books. Now he had a woman’s attention, very appreciative attention from the way the lady’s gaze kept pinging back and forth from his chest to his crotch, and the only emotion he could summon was embarrassment. No butterflies, no chills, no hint of a boner. All he had was a strong desire for Joe to wrest the phab from the woman’s husband so they could run away.

  “Run, Bobby!”

  It took Joe coming back and pulling the front of Devin’s shirt for his legs to move. Joe had told him they’d need cover names, that Flights of Fantasy insisted on it to protect their “privacy,” but he had forgotten his. “On it, Stevie!” he said, just to see the way Joe would turn around and roll his eyes at him. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “Come on, you big lug,” Joe called. “The guy’s fast, remember?” Perhaps in an effort to speed him up, Joe jogged backward for a few steps and threw Devin the phab. He laughed at Devin’s surprise and zipped off up the street.

  Devin threw his head back and laughed, too. Behind him, hard puffs of air signaled their client’s approach. Free and easy, Devin stretched his legs and closed the gap between himself and Joe.

  He could get used to this. Half an hour in, he and Joe had measured their steps to let the man, who may have been fast but couldn’t quite match their stamina, keep pace. They’d tossed the phab back and forth a few times more and laughed at the wheezy gasps the client gave each time the little device sailed through the air. This was relaxing. This was fun. And if Devin spent a little too much time staring at Joe’s beautiful, leanly muscled legs three steps in front of him, well, he was content to enjoy the view and stuff any worries about why it might be pleasant in that well deep down inside him where he stuffed all the terrible things he didn’t want to think about.

  Joe looped them back north toward the Capitol grounds, flitting from one side of the hard-paved street to the other. Towering buildings rose on either side of their path, and the few ragged people they came across stayed well out of their way. The other teams were off running somewhere, but this dusty, glittering glass wonderworld was the domain of Joe and Devin alone.

  Two more blocks and they returned to the grounds. Joe did that running backward thing again, winked at Devin, and tumbled over the dirt into a perfect back somersault. He rose two steps closer to Devin and ran like he hadn’t stopped.

  “You’re insane,” Devin gasped, and maybe, okay, he was a bit winded, but he was buoyed along by the effortless, free expression on Joe’s face. The man that carried the weight of the runners’ well-being and all the stuff he wouldn’t share, he was gone, replaced by a carefree boy.

  They were within sight of the woman in the red dress now. Joe ran halfway to her and stumbled the way he’d told Devin he would. His hand flared and grabbed Devin’s arm, and they rolled together to the foot of the client’s picnic blanket.

  The happy boy that Joe had been a moment ago was gone, replaced by a trembling, terrified child. “Please, Mister, we’re so sorry we took your phab. Here, you can have it back.”

  He tossed the phablet at the man’s shoes and moved backward on his hands and feet until he tripped over the woman’s silvery sandals and fell flat on his ass. The man shoved Devin onto the blanket and pulled out a knife.

  “Be still, you revolting heathens, or I’ll gut you, I swear!”

  Spit flew with every word, and even though Devin knew this was a ruse, his stomach turned at the sight of the knife.

  “We will, Mister. We’ll be still, won’t we, Bobby?”

  Joe’s pleading caused the wrong kind of butterflies in Devin’s stomach. He wished the man would get on with it.

  “The rope, loveykins,” the man said.

  Loveykins? Puke-worthy. Devin suppressed his groan.

  “Of course, Daryl.”

  As the woman dug around for the rope, Devin wondered if the man had an alias, too. The file they’d been given didn’t list a name for their clients. Photos were all the identifying information they received.

  With a loud snap, the wife cracked the rope and tossed it to her husband. “Here you are, darling.”

  “Which robber would you like me subdue first?”

  And so it went. Joe got tied up first, then Loveykins begged her husband to let her tie Devin around Joe. She must have fancied herself an artist or something, because she wasted a ton of time arranging Devin’s hands and legs then standing back several paces and making a frame around Joe and Devin with her fingers. She repositioned Devin a few more times, patted his ass (and rubbed it when her husband wasn’t looking), and finally instructed her husband to tighten the ropes.

  Afterward, she stood back and took pictures from every angle. Joe had stopped pleading and was sobbing on Devin’s shoulder. The best Devin could manage was what he figured was a bewildered expression, which would at least be honest since he couldn’t figure out what the hell the couple was doing.

  Long, long, long minutes later, the couple kissed fervently and boarded the dropcraft that had come ages ago to take them to wherever rich people stayed when they visited Flights of Fantasy.

  Joe’s shaking got worse. Was he genuinely upset? Devin was tied pretty tightly, but he dug his hands around on Joe’s back and kissed the top of his head. “Hey, ssh, ssh, it’s okay, Joe.”

  “Oh, God, Devin.” Joe lifted his face, and it was streaked with tears. “That was hilarious!”

  “What? You’re laughing?”

  Joe nodded, his eyes huge as they glimmered with tears, and set off on a howling, mad laugh that would knock them over if he didn’t get it under control.

  “Did you see that? Miss… Miss…”

  “Loveykins?”

  That set Joe off again.

  When he’d calmed down a little, he spluttered, “Loveykins, exac
tly. Oh, my God. Her husband’s going to get some excellent sex out of it. I hope we don’t get any complaints when she screams your fake name in the middle of her orgasm. She’d have ridden you around the lawn like a pony, papi.”

  Devin pinched Joe’s back, which made Joe squeal and wiggle, and they really did fall down.

  “I liked you better when you were surly and tired,” Devin said to the top of Joe’s curls. He’d ended up underneath Joe, whose breath was hot on his chest.

  “I think you like me a whole lot this way.” Joe raised his head, and the minute movement of his hips made Devin gasp. Joe sobered. “Sorry. I… Never mind. Let me get untied, and I’ll get you out of here.”

  It took Joe no time to undo the knots and free himself from Devin’s arms.

  They walked toward the Flats without speaking. Devin had been wrong. He didn’t like Joe better surly and tired, but he’d damn sure take him any way he could get him.

  ***

  The walk back to the Flats was awkward. Joe feared he had seriously overstepped Devin’s boundaries. He wanted to apologize but worried he’d make the situation even worse. He’d acted without thinking. He shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have done anything. But that run, laughing and playing with Devin, had lightened something inside him, eased the loneliness he’d carried with him for so long. And God, his body had responded, too, not out of loneliness or because he needed an erection to do a job, but because he was attracted to Devin, fond of him in a way he’d never been with anyone.

  He’d never wanted anyone. Not until now.

  Waiting for the elevator back inside the Flats, he worked up enough nerve to voice an explanation. It wasn’t necessarily a truthful one, but it was one that could salvage their partnership.

  Screams, piercing and primal, echoed down the elevator shaft and reached the first floor of the building. Aborting his plan to explain, Joe jammed the button on the display, then pushed it harder twice more before Devin caught his hand.

  Marlette and Ángel ran into the hall, their eyes on high alert, but when they saw Joe, they visibly relaxed.

  “You got this, Joesy?” Marlette asked. She gestured between herself and Ángel. “Ain’t in our job descriptions.”

  Joe smiled blandly through his worry and wondered when running toward screams had become part of his. “I’ll send down if we need anything.”

  Ángel squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “I got extra towels if you need them.”

  Joe had no idea why he’d need towels, but Ángel’s soft, heavily accented voice and firm grip made him feel better just the same.

  The creaky old relic of an elevator lazed its way toward them, but after Joe counted to thirty-two in his head, the doors shuddered open and they rushed inside. Devin pressed the number five button, and Joe had to count again to stay calm as they ascended.

  The screams grew louder as they rose. By the time he and Devin reached their floor, the screams obliterated any other sounds. Joe wrenched open the door of the sleeping quarters and saw everyone huddled on the three mattresses closest to Ebony’s room. Another scream rent the air. The gathered runners shivered as a group. Dottie covered her ears.

  Joe almost laughed when he realized the source of the scream. He should have known. He’d heard those screams before.

  “How far along is she?”

  “The fuck would we know,” Victor snapped. “She’s been howling like that for a while.”

  Biting back a retort, Joe focused his attention on Trig. His level-headed friend had been here long enough to have experienced a few births, too. “Zeke and Vail are in there with her?”

  “Yeah. Roxy, too,” Trig said, running his hand over and over his buzzed scalp. “She started doing the ‘I can’t do this, kill me now’ screams maybe thirty minutes ago.”

  Good. Ebony was a solidly built woman. She shouldn’t have any trouble pushing out a kid. The last girl built close to the same as Ebony, she went from begging for death to popping out a baby in maybe an hour. And, not that he’d ever tell anyone, this wasn’t Ebony’s first baby. He figured Zeke and Victor were the only other people who knew, Zeke because Ebony would have told him, Victor because he’d been the father. Those had been dark days for Ebony and Joe. The baby had died, and Victor had gotten even meaner.

  Anyway, second kids came out faster. Ebony would have a new baby any time now.

  Joe dragged Devin out of the room so they could freshen up.

  “Is she okay?” Devin asked as they peed in adjacent urinals.

  “She’ll be fine. She’s got half an hour, maybe an hour, to go. When she starts making these serious grunting sounds you’ll know she’s near the end.” Joe tucked himself in and washed his hands.

  “Not your first baby, I take it?”

  “I’ve been here five years, on the streets for two before that.” Joe smiled. “It’s not my first rodeo, that’s for sure. This one’ll make five births.”

  “Jesus. I thought these girls couldn’t get pregnant.” Devin’s hands were thrown wide, still dripping from washing them. “How old are you?”

  “Some clients like impregnating the girls. For the right price, Boggs lets it happen. And I’m nineteen.” Joe registered the way Devin’s hands shot skyward and his head jerked back. He needed to lighten the specter of a homeless twelve-year-old. He feigned a smile. “Going on eighty-eight, I think. Births are old hat. Come on. Let’s not miss this one.”

  “I thought this baby was Zeke’s?”

  “It is, according to Vail. Ebony went off the shield for a client, then she and Zeke had sex before it came online again. The client’s sperm didn’t take, I guess.” Joe guided Devin back to the main room, where they sat next to each other on the second-closest mattress, the one that belonged to Trig and Roxy, and waited. Ten minutes later, Ebony’s screams turned to silence, and ten minutes after that, the hard grunting began. “See,” Joe whispered. “Getting to the good part.”

  Devin smirked. “I’d say they already got to the good part.”

  “Oh, ha ha.” Joe turned away so Devin couldn’t see the jab of pain that remark caused. No way would Devin ever think sex between the two of them could be a “good part.”

  Joe hunched over his bent knees and pretended to be invested in every sound coming from Ebony’s room. The grunting sharpened until he was pulled in for real, and he and the other runners spent every straining noise holding their own breath, as though they could collectively will Ebony to push out that baby.

  One last, deep growl was followed by the sound of release, of pleasure. Silence. One second went by. Two. Three. Four. Five. A cry. Tiny and blessed and healthy. Cheers and whoops and high fives erupted all around Joe. Devin laid his head on Joe’s shoulder and said, “Hallelujah,” and Joe laughed and hugged Aubrey and Marcus and a clingy Flix before Devin pushed the tiny twin away and hugged Joe so hard he couldn’t breathe.

  Sniffles and nervous laughter replaced the jubilance as the runners stood and pressed toward Ebony’s door. Someone knocked and got shoved by someone else, and the whole crowd jostled around a bit before the door opened and revealed Roxy’s tear-stained face.

  “You guys couldn’t wait?” Her exasperated tone belied the warm indulgence in her eyes. “Four at a time. Line up and be still.”

  Joe and Devin went in with Dottie and Aubrey. The girls swarmed to the side of Ebony’s mattress while Joe and Devin hung back. Ebony’s face was splotchy and wet with sweat. Underneath a thin sheet, her legs shook violently. Dr. Vail knelt between her knees and did something Joe didn’t want to see.

  Tears tracking his cheeks, Zeke advanced, bringing with him a bundle of blankets that turned out to be a baby.

  “Her name’s Nina.” His voice shook almost as hard as Ebony’s legs.

  Joe peered into the blankets. Nina was still a little slimy, and her nose was smushed, but she was beautiful. Her eyes were closed, and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. She sucked the side of a tiny fist. A fine dusting of hair covered her for
ehead. A cap concealed the top of her head, but black curls peeked out from underneath.

  “She’s amazing.” Devin crossed his bulky arms over Joe’s chest and hooked his hands on Joe’s shoulders. Despite the tension between them, Joe snuggled into the happiness.

  “Congratulations, Zeke and Ebony,” Joe said.

  A commotion erupted at the door, and the remainder of the runners crushed inside the tiny room. Joe watched as his coworkers’ eyes lit on the baby.

  The men and women and children he worked with had been hardened by a terrible life. Their prospects for anything better than what they had now were almost nonexistent. They had every reason to be angry and jaded. But every set of eyes fixed on baby Nina shone wet and naked with hope.

  These people weren’t a collection of spare parts. In a way Joe had never appreciated until this moment, they were family. His family. He’d been steadfast in the pursuit of enough money to find his father and be a family again, and he’d missed the obvious family right in front of him. He pressed his cheek into Devin’s sweaty t-shirt and vowed to do better.

  ***

  The week had passed so quickly that yesterday Devin had forgotten it was his birthday. The only reason he remembered at all was that the cook had given him an extra serving of meatloaf at dinner and mumbled, “Feliz cumpleaños” with a shy smile. In his head, he replayed the exchange as he sat around the card table playing poker and trying to tune out baby Nina’s crying.

  “Gracias,” Devin had told her, which earned him an arched brow from Joe. “What? I’m not an idiot. I do pay attention.”

  Joe watched as his own single serving of meatloaf got plopped on his tray and said, “Yeah, yeah. You’re not as dumb as you look.”

  “What’d that mean, what she said?”

  “Happy birthday.”

  “How’d she know?”

  The only answer he received was a shrug of the shoulders, but he hadn’t needed Joe’s confirmation to know his partner had been the one to secure him a birthday treat.

  “What are you smiling about, Devin? You have a good hand?” Marcus asked.

  Devin startled and glanced at his cards. An ace, a four, a jack, an eight, and a two. He was pretty sure that hand stunk.