Page 45 of Artifacts

“Guy back there, kick his gun over here. Slowly,” ordered the second man.

Aldric obeyed once more, inching toward Darrell, his face agonized, lurching and tripping as he pushed Darrell’s gun away with one foot. Glaring at Randa, who laughed at Aldric’s clumsiness, Darrell almost missed what Aldric was doing. He was kicking Darrell’s gun away, as ordered, sure, but also placing the gun Darrell had given him under Darrell’s outstretched arm, carefully and unobtrusively. Darrell hadn’t even seen him pick it up, but there it was, a small lump of deadly metal next to his flesh.

“Kid, we’ll let the two of you go if you bring out the box,” Randa offered. “You know which one, I’m betting.”

Darrell exchanged a look with Aldric.Do it. They won’t let us out alive anyway.

Aldric raised his hands and edged around the metal stack to the shelves along the wall. He found the hexagonal box and placed it on the floor, where it stood small among much larger objects lying about, and took a few steps to the door. “Darrell, come on,” he said, looking over at him, then the trio. “What? You said we could go.”

“And you believed that?” sneered the taller goon.

“No,” Aldric replied…in the same instant that he snatched up a huge square metal statue from the floor and whacked the guy over the head with it. The thug went down hard. Darrell hoped his head would hurt like hell.

Darrell levelled his weapon at Randa and got to his feet. “Put your hands up, Mrs. Buckman.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she sputtered. “They…they made me do it! I’m innocent! I’m so glad—”

“Hands up,” Darrell snapped. “And mouth shut. You have the right to remain silent—”

Mrs. Buckman glared but raised her hands. She didn’t speak again.

“You use these before?” Darrell brandished zip ties and indicated the injured man.

Aldric shook his head. “Maybe if we’d stayed for the second movie.” He started to tremble as Darrell saw to the guy. “You were shot. I saw you fall and—”

“Bulletproof vest,” Darrell told him, hoping to comfort him somewhat but not lie. “So it didn’t penetrate through, but the site of impact hurts like a motherfucker.” Darrell moved over to Mrs. Buckman. “Hands behind your back.”

After she had complied, Darrell zip-tied her wrists, then shouted for the guard. “You okay?” he asked when the guy limped into sight.

“Fuckers hit me!” the guard answered, rubbing the back of his head.

“D’you call nine-one-one?” Darrell asked.

“Yeah,” came the guard’s reply “I’m not stupid.”

“That’s debatable,” Darrell grumbled, then looked at Mrs. Buckman. “Lady, what the fuck is so important about that goddamn puzzle box?”

“A will,” Randa spat. “Buck apparently left a will hidden, deeding the house and estate to his fucking son to say sorry for how he treated him. I found little clues hidden in the rest of his crap that let me know what he did.”

Aldric’s trembling turned into a tooth-jarring full-body shake and he heaved a few times, although he didn’t throw up. His glasses flew off with his convulsions, and Darrell caught them and put them on for him.

“Thinking about getting contacts,” Aldric mumbled.

“Don’t you dare,” Darrell warned him. “Love your sexy specs.” He hugged Aldric tight and was still holding him close when the cops arrived, with Elliot on their heels. As they stared, Darrell stroked Aldric’s neck and head, cradling him to his chest, and stared back.

Chapter Twenty

Aldric had fainted once, a few years earlier, on the high school track after being forced to sprint in the hot sun. He remembered the feeling, like a lid up on high was coming down, enclosing him in a little jar, making the sight of the track and the other kids blurry and the sound of their voices and the coach’s yelling echoey, until the top came right down, squashing him to the ground.

He remembered it vividly, because it was happening again, the room growing smaller and narrower, the slam of feet and the bark of orders becoming quieter and the air getting thinner. Before, he hadn’t been pressed tight to another man’s body like he was now, breathing in Darrell’s scent that was both familiar and arousing. It would be nice to let go into that.

No.He fought against it. He was an adult, responsible for the mess he’d made. The police would have questions to ask about the assault he’d committed. He couldn’t leave the cleaning up to Darrell. Aldric shifted and felt the cup of Darrell’s hand around the back of his neck and the press of his lips on the top of his head. When he turned around, he stared straight into two faces he knew, both of them wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Sean, Darrell’s partner, and Elliot, Aldric’s boss.

“Darrell?” Sean lowered his gun. He wasn’t in uniform but had his badge around his neck and a police armband on. “Dispatch called me when you called in. What the hell’s going on?”

“Whatever is going on, could it not be in here?” Elliot stepped forward. “I believe Aldric would benefit from fresh air.”

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