Unquiet (30 page)

Eliot nodded in return, and then gave her a courtly bow before taking his leave.

His next-to-last stop was the liquor store, and he felt guilty buying the bottle of cheap vodka, wondering what Loren would think if he knew.
It’s not for me
, he told himself, and he headed with his purchase toward the sad little park and Sam’s bench. The old man was there, slumped over, his hair matted to his head with filth, his eyes vacant. Even with Eliot’s help, he was barely capable of drinking from the bottle, a lot of it spilling down his front, though the liquor he managed to swallow did perk him up to a small degree.

“I’ll be right back, Sam,” he said gently, not expecting an answer, and after a few minutes, he returned from the bodega with a small paper bag stuffed with several sandwiches, bags of chips, and candy bars, which he tucked into the crook of Sam’s arm. Jack had been there behind the bodega’s counter, and he gave Eliot an evil look.

“I expect my payment soon,” he’d growled under his breath, glancing around for anyone within earshot, “or the old man is out.”

Eliot gave him a pleasant smile and then pushed a few hundred-dollar bills at him. “Here’s your payment,” he said mildly. “And I’ll pay more every couple of weeks. The other type of ‘payment’ is at an end.”

Jack bared his teeth. “I don’t want your money, asshole. You know what I want.”

“I do know what you want, Jack,” Eliot continued, “and I’m sure my vice cop boyfriend would be happy to discuss that if you try to force the issue. If I were you, I’d just take the money.”

Jack glared at him for a moment, then snatched the money up and stuffed it in his pocket. “Fuck you, bitch,” he muttered. “Two hundred dollars every two weeks.”

“Agreed. And I’ll be checking on him a lot. I don’t ever want to hear that he’s been mistreated in here.”

With that Eliot turned around and left, feeling Jack’s eyes boring a hole into his back.

Eliot sat with Sam a little while longer, listening to him mutter and babble his usual nonsense, and then at dusk made his way to the bus stop and back home. When he arrived he was surprised to see the garage door was up, with Loren’s truck parked within. Eliot entered the house and started to call Loren’s name, stopping short when he saw the bouquet of a dozen red roses artfully arranged in a vase on the kitchen island.

The heady fragrance filled the room, and Eliot fingered a few of the soft petals, smiling despite himself. This had to be Loren’s blatant attempt at getting out of the doghouse, and if Eliot was being honest, it was working. Damn him. Just as he completed that thought, arms slid around his waist from behind and lips nuzzled the side of his neck, making him shiver. Loren was fresh out of the shower, his hair damp, his face smooth, the smell of shaving cream and sandalwood body wash mingling pleasantly with the scent of the flowers.

“I’m sorry, El,” Loren whispered against Eliot’s jaw as he kissed his way up to the sensitive shell of his ear. “You don’t know how awful I felt when I realized I’d forgotten about support group. I’m not trying to make excuses, but I honestly didn’t realize that today was Sunday. Please forgive me, baby.”

His lips left Eliot’s ear, and Eliot tipped his head back against Loren’s shoulder, giving him access to his neck, and he moaned as Loren bit down on the straining tendon before soothing the slight sting with his tongue.

Eliot turned his head and sought Loren’s mouth with his, and they kissed hotly, Eliot arching his back as Loren slid his hand down his chest to cup the fly of Eliot’s jeans, hissing in appreciation of the hard bulge he found there.

“Yeah?” Loren whispered against Eliot’s lips, and Eliot gasped as Loren squeezed him through the denim.

Loren pulled back and turned Eliot to face him, lifting his chin for a deep, tongue-tangling kiss before dropping to his knees and pushing Eliot’s T-shirt up to kiss his stomach, nuzzling his nose into the hair just below his navel, unfastening Eliot’s jeans with nimble fingers.

Eliot grunted as Loren yanked his pants and underwear down around his thighs, then leaned in and took Eliot’s gloriously hard cock down his throat.

“Loren!” Eliot cried, threading his fingers through Loren’s thick brown hair and holding on for dear life. He widened his stance as far as the pants hobbling his legs allowed, throwing his head back in pleasure as Loren pushed Eliot’s stiff cock up against his abdomen and mouthed along the shaft before sucking and licking Eliot’s balls, growling deep in his throat as he did so, the possessive sound sending a thrill rocketing through Eliot.

Loren let go of Eliot’s balls with a pop, then deep-throated him again, putting his hands on Eliot’s hips and encouraging him to thrust. Eliot did, holding Loren still as he fucked his mouth hard, his head hanging to watch, reveling in the sight of Loren’s full lips stretched wide around his girth.

“I’m gonna come,” he moaned, and Loren hummed, tightening the suction. Eliot exploded, his helpless cries ringing off the ceiling as he came in a hot rush, panting, watching Loren’s throat move as he swallowed over and over.

When Eliot loosened his grip on Loren’s hair and sagged back against the island, Loren released him from his mouth, those sensual growls still coming from his throat as he licked Eliot clean. He massaged his hand up and down the softening shaft, forcing a few last white drops to well up in the slit. Loren held Eliot’s eyes with his as he took those drops on his tongue, swallowing them.

“You taste so good, baby,” Loren murmured, mouthing the swollen head until Eliot pushed him away, moaning at the oversensitivity.

Loren released Eliot’s hips and rose to his feet. Eliot’s knees threatened to buckle at the loss of support, and Loren grabbed him around the waist, pulling Eliot against him with a laugh.

“Steady there,” he whispered, and Eliot wound his arms around his neck, whimpering a little as Loren kissed him deeply.

Eliot slid his hand between their bodies, seeking Loren’s crotch, squeezing the hard ridge trapped along his thigh, and Loren stopped him, threading their fingers together.

“No, this is all about you tonight, El,” he murmured, lifting Eliot’s inner wrist to his mouth and giving it a loving kiss. Eliot dropped his forehead to Loren’s shoulder as he recovered, and he laughed as Loren pulled his clothes to rights for him and tucked him gently away.

“Best apology ever,” he said, and Loren kissed him again.

“I really am sorry, Eliot.” Loren’s voice was sincere, and Eliot nodded.

For the rest of the evening, Loren was as attentive as Eliot could have wished. They snuggled together on the couch watching TV, and Eliot told him about the volunteer opportunities he’d gotten from Erin.

“Those sound great,” Loren exclaimed. “And when things slow down at work, I want to help you study for your GED. Getting that will open a lot of doors for you.”

“I want you to be proud of me, Loren,” Eliot said, looking at Loren in surprise when Loren gave him a gentle shake.

“I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried,” Loren replied, his tone fierce. “I’m not around as much as I’d like, but I can see how hard you’re trying. You’re doing everything right.”

Eliot smiled, then asked tentatively, “Do you think I can meet some of your coworkers soon? Especially since you spend way more time with them than you do me.” He let his voice turn teasing. “I need to make sure there aren’t any hot guys for competition.”

He held his breath, waiting for Loren’s answer, and it came after a brief, uncomfortable silence.

“Everybody’s so busy right now, El,” Loren muttered, not looking at Eliot. “When things slow down, I promise I’ll bring you to the station to introduce you. Just give it a little more time, okay?”

Eliot nodded, trying not to let his hurt show. During one of their shopping trips when they first moved in, Loren had driven Eliot by the station again to make sure Eliot knew where Loren’s base of operations was in case of an emergency. Eliot suggested they stop in to meet some of his colleagues, and Loren brushed him off then too.

“Are you ashamed of me?” he whispered, and this time Loren’s shake wasn’t so gentle.

“Never, ever. Don’t
ever
think that,” Loren said fervently. “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone. It’s just—it’s just not the right time, El. Trust me on that. Please?”

Eliot nodded, dropping the subject, knowing it wasn’t fair to push Loren on the issue of coming out. It had to be on Loren’s terms, and on his timetable. Eliot would try his best to be patient; he owed Loren that.

They discussed Eliot’s short-term goals a little while longer, and then Loren pleaded exhaustion and went to bed. Eliot grabbed the brochures from the fridge, sat down at the computer in Loren’s office, and mapped out his bus route to each facility. He’d call them first thing in the morning before heading out, but this way he had his day planned down to the last detail.

Look at you, all organized and shit,
he thought, very pleased with himself. For someone who had lived most of his life in haphazard fashion, rigid and carefully planned structure was turning out to be more welcome than he ever thought it could be.

He joined Loren in bed not long after, slept well, and when he woke, of course Loren was long gone.

Eliot took his meds, showered, had his breakfast, and then sat down to make the phone calls. A few hours later, he left the house armed with three destinations, each facility having been delighted to hear from him and eager for him to come in for a visit.

With the bus transfers and wait times, it took him almost an hour to get to the first place, and he thought he wouldn’t want to make that trip in the summer heat, standing around on hot sidewalks or crowding into the inadequate bus shelters that may or may not be present at each stop.

The second place was nice, but it seemed most disorganized, and the semi-controlled chaos made him a little anxious. He didn’t think he’d enjoy working there very much, even though the staff was pleasant and professional.

When he walked into the third facility, Eliot immediately felt at home. It was a large, bright, and airy space, with pleasant furniture groupings and activity centers scattered throughout. Instead of a TV mounted on the wall like the other two places had, there was a huge saltwater aquarium teeming with colorful tropical fish. Eliot also noticed what looked like a library area: slightly sagging bookshelves stocked with old and well-worn paperbacks against one wall, with a couple of large leather recliners next to them. There was a music-listening station along the opposite wall, with a few old-school boom boxes sitting on a round table, some oversized padded headphones, and stacks of CDs next to them. Another set of bookshelves containing puzzles and games, and an area with colorful rugs scattered around for dancing and exercise, completed the room.

“Are you Eliot?”

Eliot turned toward the sound of a pleasant female voice, and he smiled in assent at the short, rotund woman who came to greet him. She had snow-white hair, wrinkles in her mahogany skin, and her eyes were sharp with intelligence and humor.

“I’m Beverly Magnusson,” she said, holding out a plump hand. “But you can call me Bev.” Eliot reached out for a handshake, surprised when Bev enfolded his hand between both of hers.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Eliot,” she said with sincere warmth. “We don’t get too many volunteers at a mental health facility.”

“Full disclosure, Bev,” he answered in a quiet voice. “I’ve got a mental illness myself.”

She wasn’t fazed, and without missing a beat, she quoted, “We’re all a little mad here.”

They grinned at each other, and then she released his hand, taking his arm instead and drawing him farther into the room.

She gave him a tour, introducing him to the various staff members that dotted the room, each of them pleasant and friendly. There weren’t many residents present, just a handful, and Bev said, “We’re a little slow today,” before leading him into her cramped office.

She closed the door and took a seat behind her desk, fished in a drawer for a moment, and handed him a sheet of paper.

“As you know, this is a daycare facility for psychiatric patients. We don’t take children, only adults who need supervision during the day. We have some Alzheimer’s residents, some with dementia, some with mental illnesses. They are for the most part functional and without need of hospitalization; they just need supervision and structure. We don’t accept residents who need help with eating on their own, for example, or other activities of daily living like toileting. This is a place where people can drop their loved ones off for a fun day of socializing and activities.

“Knowing all of that, would you still be interested in volunteering here?” When Eliot gave an enthusiastic nod, Bev continued, “We’d just need you to fill this out for a background check, Eliot,” holding up her hand when he drew breath to interrupt. “You’ve said you suffer from a mental illness, so I’d expect there will be a few black marks on your record from before you were stable.” He murmured in the affirmative, his eyes downcast, and she asked, her tone brisk, “Any assault charges, sexual abuse, crimes against persons?”

“No,” he replied. “Mostly vandalism, criminal traffic, destruction of property.”

Bev was tapping her pursed lips with a pen. “Anything else?”

“A couple of drug charges,” he admitted. “Drunk and disorderly. Look, Bev, I’m bipolar. I’m in remission now, but I was unstable for quite a few years. I self-medicated with alcohol and cocaine. There were some—issues.”

“I understand,” she said. “My daughter was bipolar, and she took her own life about twenty years ago after a desperate struggle with it. I’m sorry to say that she was treatment resistant, and looking at you now, it seems like you’re responding beautifully to your regimen. I was also a psychiatric nurse for over thirty years before retiring, so I know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m doing well,” Eliot responded, looking her in the eye. “I’ve just come out of a ninety-day court-ordered stint in rehab, and I’ve only been out for a little over a month. But I’m stable, I’m motivated, and I want to help.”

“Young man, I am delighted to have you here. But the law requires me to run a background check for the safety of our residents. I know you understand.”