Page 41 of Shades of Henry
Goddammit, Henry, why did you have to be so dear, so accessible, when you have a murder rap hanging over your head?
Lance thought that maybe he should have gone to work out, which he did on his half-days as often as possible, and then his brain quit. Just quit, and he sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs and tried to put his relief in perspective.
He was still sitting there twenty minutes later, staring at his phone message, when Henry burst into the apartment, looking irritated and hot.
“Henry!”
Henry gave him a scattered smile and then really took him in. “Are you okay?”
Lance stood up and scowled. “No! You were taken out of here this morning, and you looked terrified and—”
Henry’s arms around his shoulders were a surprise. When had Henry become the comforter? “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I mean, I’m not off the hook yet, but Cramer and Rivers, they really do seem to have my back!”
Lance wanted to pull away and demand what happened, but having Henry’s arms around his shoulders, it felt just amazing.
“We texted John,” he mumbled. “John contacted your guy, I guess, and then told us that Reg and Bobby had been… I don’t know. Attacked? Someone broke into their house and was supposed to make Reg change his story but….” Lance had to pull away now. “I’m a little fuzzy on what happened next.”
“Wait! I know this one! Bobby sat on the guy,” Henry chortled. “Like, you know he’s built like a fuckin’ tank, right?”
“I’m surprised he fits through doors,” Lance said honestly. Between the muscles and the height, Bobby was the giant country boy of your wet dreams—or nightmares.
“So the guy breaks into Reg and Bobby’s place and starts yelling at Reg to change his story about what happened that day at the dumpster, and Bobby sits on the guy, and Reg called Jackson.”
Lance frowned. “Like, the PI who beat the shit out of you, Jackson?”
Henry scrubbed at his face. “Yeah. I told you he was nice to Reg. I guess something about him said, ‘This man will protect us from housebreakers.’ Anyway, Jackson and Ellery show up and the guy kept talking about a tape. I guess yesterday they tracked down a tape of the dumpster—you know, to show I wasn’t the one who dumped the body?”
Lance squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have thought of that. Apparently that’s why they get paid the big bucks.”
“Yeah. Hey, is there coffee?” Henry looked at him hopefully.
“Isn’t it broiling outside?” Lance asked, moving for the coffee maker. “Never mind. I know you. Keep going!” Maybe it was the Montana farm-boy thing, but Henry could live on coffee on the hottest day.
Henry continued. “Well, apparently there were two different tapes—one the cops got and one Jackson and Ellery got hold of. But both of them were fake. It’s sort of driving us nuts,” he admitted. His voice dropped. “Jackson’s downstairs right now, actually. He figured the tapes came from the super’s office, so he’s going to check Sternberg’s security to see ‘film school’ as he keeps calling it. I thought….” He shrugged, and Lance saw a flush steal across his pale face.
Lance hadn’t realized how much he needed that, had loved it, until right now, staring at Henry hungrily, gratitude and want vibrating in his stomach in a way that made lawyers and PIs superfluous.
“So I get to meet the great man himself?” He couldn’t disguise the irritation in his voice. He was, he realized, reluctant to share Henry now that Henry was… well,his.
“He’s my best chance,” Henry said, like he believed it. “Seriously, Lance—Ellery and I got out of the courthouse today, and he was there with information and a plan and… I told him.” He paused and glanced at Lance, as if looking for forgiveness. “I told him almost everything. Martin Sampson, Malachi. I thought… you know. I thought you forgave me because you were my friend, and Davy forgave me because he’s my brother. Like… like you were obligated. And you… you’re kind. You’re kind to everyone. My God, Lance, you didn’t even laugh when Randy told you he reallydidhave scabs from wanking off.”
Lance grimaced. They’d guessed, of course, but when Randy had confided in Lance because he’d been too embarrassed to tell the rest of the house, Lance had needed to tell Henry so he could keep a straight face. “Whatisit with that kid?” he asked now.
“I’ve got nothing—it’s like a medical condition or something. But see? I thought… if Jackson could hear the whole story and not hate me….” Henry’s voice wobbled, and Lance hated himself a little. Henry was on the line formurder.He’d been brought in for questioning because he’d seen his one-night trick dead in a dumpster. He didn’t need Lance’s sudden weird bullshit jealousy.
“What?” Lance asked, voice neutral.
“Then maybe it’s not just because you’re kind,” Henry admitted.
“Wait, what’s because I’m kind?” Lance asked, some of the irritation fading.
“The….” Henry fidgeted, and Lance realized he was looking younger, more insecure by the second. “The… the thing. The thing between us. I… I—”
Lance’s expression softened, but at that moment Curtis burst in, looking thunderous.
“Dude,” Lance said, distracted. “Where’d you come from? I thought you were in school!”
“Ugh! You know what? That rent raise we got was bogus. Did you know that?”
