Read Love, Like Water Online

Authors: Rowan Speedwell

Love, Like Water (31 page)

But it also made its own demands on those caught up in it. The other gangs weren’t—couldn’t be—as good as yours, because your own self-respect was dependent on the status and reputation of your own gang. You had to be the best. And if someone challenged you, or your gang, then they had to be taken down, quickly, before others got the idea that they could challenge you.
Honor sobre todo
. Honor above everything.

And if honor required that a man die at your hands—then you were killing for the gang, and that made it okay.

It wasn’t okay, but Joshua had managed to rationalize almost all the deaths he’d been part of. They were all criminals, murderers, those members of other gangs he’d killed, and if he’d been in the same position as an agent, he’d have done the same thing. The revenge killings—those had a reason behind them and were only justice. So Joshua had told himself the first few times. After that, it hadn’t been an issue. He’d become just a killing machine, just a tool in the hands of ’Chete Montenegro, and the deaths didn’t matter. He’d rationalized all of them out of existence. All but one.

When he talked about the others with the shrink, it was simple. He’d worked it all out in the therapy he went through during rehab, and made his peace with the choices he’d been faced with. He thought that there would be more to it when he discussed those killings with McBride, but he only wanted to know what Joshua felt about it. When Joshua had said “nothing,” the shrink had only nodded and made a note on his notebook, then moved on to another topic. And lately… lately Joshua hadn’t wanted to talk at all. Most of the sessions were complete silence, with only the faint hum of the air conditioner for background noise. He wondered why he bothered. But he kept going.

Someday, he knew, the subject of the girl would come up, and he didn’t know what he’d do then.

A faint sound came from behind him—not quite a footstep, but more of a shuffling sound. His fingers tightened on the fence rail. “Welcome home,” he said over his shoulder. “You should be asleep.”

“Not sleepy,” Eli said. He limped up to the fence and leaned beside Joshua. “Could say the same thing about you.”

Joshua shrugged.

“Nice night.”

Joshua didn’t answer, just stared across the desert at nothing. Eli subsided, just leaning against the fence, his arms folded along the top. The cast on the broken one had been scribbled on by what looked like half the population of Albuquerque. “Do people still do that?” he asked finally, waving his hand at the cast.

“Guess they do,” Eli said. “Not my idea.”

More silence. Finally Joshua said, “Guess I’ll turn in.”

“Sarafina says you’re having the nightmares again.”

Joshua froze in midturn. “Sarafina should mind her own fucking business,” he snapped.


Mijo
,” Eli said gently, “Haven’t you figured out yet that if Tuck is the daddy of this ranch, Sarafina’s the ma? Which means that she’s gonna worry about every soul on this ranch.”

“The way you do.” Joshua tried to keep his voice neutral, but even he could hear the bitterness in it.

“The way I do,” Eli agreed. “But for me, that’s mostly just business. It’s my job. For Tuck and Sara… shit. He oughta just marry the woman and make it official.”

“Why doesn’t he?” Joshua didn’t know where that question came from—he had intended to just nod curtly and walk back into the house, but for some reason he didn’t.

His answer why came in Eli’s warm chuckle. God, how could he think of leaving him? The man had to be suffering, but he still came out to talk to Joshua, could still carry on a conversation, could still laugh as if at a joke. He was so much more of a man than Joshua ever could be. “Well, part of it is that she says she likes the paycheck, and if she marries him he’ll expect her to work for free. Of course she’s married already.”

“I remember.”

“I don’t think she likes him much—I guess it was sort of an arranged thing. She says if she ever wants to remarry, she’ll divorce him, but doesn’t want to go through the bother now.” Eli sighed. “Can’t see it myself, but different people have different ways, I reckon.”

Joshua grunted acknowledgment and turned to leave, but Eli put out his good hand and rested it on Joshua’s arm. “But that don’t mean people with different ways can’t find common ground, Josh. And I don’t think you’re any happier right now than I am.”

Josh closed his eyes in pain. Eli wasn’t going to make it easy on him. Eli went on, “I don’t know what you were thinking when you walked out of my room that day, but I’m pretty sure it ain’t what it looked like.”

“What did it look like?”

“Like I wasn’t good enough for you anymore. See, I think I am, despite your college degree and FBI Academy and all, so that can’t be the reason. The way I figure, there’s something else going on in that head of yours that maybe ain’t quite right. And I wanna know what it is so I can shake some sense into you.”

“With what? That busted arm? Or maybe you were gonna chase me around on that bum leg of yours?” Joshua shook off his hand.

“That what’s bothering you? That I’m busted up?” Eli shook his head. “Son, I been busted up worse than this before. Rodeo—”

“This didn’t happen at any fucking rodeo,” Joshua hissed. “You got the shit beat out of you for being gay!”

“And what, you’re feeling
guilty
about that? Son of a bitch, you are, aren’t you?” When Eli’s hand shot out again, this time it closed around Joshua’s jaw, forcing Joshua to meet his eyes. He might have been hurt, but his hand was as strong as ever. “News for you,
son
—I been gay a long time. Fact is I was in the wrong place at the wrong time—”

“And that
is
my fault! You were there because you were waiting for me!”

Eli shook Joshua’s jaw gently but firmly. “I been down there lots of times before, Josh. A couple of the bars that I used to pick up tricks at are a couple blocks from there. It coulda happened any time, any weekend I was down there. The difference this time was that a couple of assholes decided it was time to rid the world of me on the day that
you
were there. And that made all the difference, ’cause you stopped ’em. You saved my life, Josh. ’Cause you were there.” The fingers turned softer, caressing. “You saved my life.”

It was hard to talk, but Joshua managed, “You saved mine.”

Eli chuckled. “Yeah, but you weren’t too pleased about that, were you?”

“Not at the time, no.” Joshua reached up and gently disengaged Eli’s fingers, dragging them down and holding them in his. “Eli—it’s never been a matter of you not being good enough for me. It’s the other way around. I’ll never be good enough for you. We need to stop this now. I’m no good for you. I should have never come here. I
don’t belong here
.”

“What are you talking about? You belong here more’n anyone—you’re Tuck’s nephew. Your grandfolks built this place. This place is in your blood.”

“There’s nothing
in
my blood—it’s all on my hands.” Joshua dropped Eli’s hand and leaned back against the fence. “I’ve had a lot of time to think these last couple of weeks, and I think I need to go back to the Bureau. There are things I need to, to
compensate
for. Penance, kind of. I need to go back where I can do some good and kind of pay my debt….”

“You mean because of the people you killed when you were undercover?”

Joshua’s breath came short. “You
know
about that?”

“Just what I heard you say. About blood on your hands.” Eli’s voice was kind. “You said something once before when you didn’t know I was there. To the cat. Something about so much blood and why couldn’t you forget.”

He stared at Eli’s face, mild and pale in the moonlight, and felt like throwing up. “You heard that?”

“Yep. Thought you were talking about being back on the heroin at first. Then you started talking about blood.”

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop when someone’s talking to themselves.”

“You were talking about it in my barn.”

Joshua took a deep breath, then said, “During the three years I was undercover, I was implicit or complicit in the deaths of seven… no, eight people, counting the local gang leader, who was shot during the bust.”

“Implicit meaning you were in on the killing?”

“Yes.”

“Complicit meaning you pulled the trigger.”

“Yes.”

Eli whistled softly. “Seems like a whole lot of burden to bear,
mijo
. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“See, that’s why we can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t ask you to be part of this. Of me.” Joshua rubbed his hands on his face and was surprised when they came away wet. “Shit.”

“Do you grieve for ’em?”

“What?”

“Do you grieve for ’em? It sure seems like you do.”

Joshua shook his head. “It was what I had to do. They were mostly justified—they were murderers themselves, marked for death anyway, and if I hadn’t done it, someone else probably would have, either other gangs or law enforcement. And they weren’t good guys, weren’t innocent—every one of them had an equal amount of blood on their hands. I tried to think of it as more like execution. I had to justify it in my head—I was constantly under watch by Montenegro and his men, because even though I was my father’s son, I was still a stranger to them. They watched me. I had to do what they told me, or I’d have jeopardized my mission. And I
needed
to finish it. I needed to break up the smuggling ring. So it was justified.”

“But did you
grieve
.”


Fuck yes I grieved
!” Joshua dragged in an agonized breath. “God, I still see their faces, every one of them! I still hear the sound of the shot, the sound of the impact, the sound of the body hitting the ground. The sound of screams and sirens. I see the shock on their faces. When they hooked me on heroin it was a fucking relief because as long as I was strung out, I didn’t have to
care
. I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to
remember
.” He tried to still the shaking in his voice. “There was once, early on, after the second or third killing…. I found a Catholic church and went in and lit candles for their souls. I’m not Catholic, Mom’s not religious, but my grandparents were, and they used to take me and Cathy to Mass sometimes. So I knew about the candles, and the praying. I prayed for them. And I prayed for me, that if I had to keep doing this, that I wouldn’t go to hell, at least not any more than I already was. That I could come out on the other end of this
fucking
assignment. And then came Lina.” He stopped then, appalled that he’d let that slip.

But Eli, of course, caught it. “Who’s Lina?”

“A girl.”

There was silence in the moonlight then, and then, Eli’s voice. “
Fuck
.” And a few moments later, “Was this before or after you got hooked on the heroin?”

“Before.”


Fuck
.”

“Yeah,” Joshua said bitterly. “Can’t blame it on the junk, can I?”

Eli didn’t answer. Joshua snuck a look at him; he was staring at nothing, his jaw set.
That’s done, then
, he thought wearily.
I should have thought of that before
. But he said nothing else, just walked away, back to his solitary, sleepless bed, leaving Eli standing alone in the moonlight.

Chapter 28

“Y
OU
sure about this?”

Tucker leaned on the doorjamb of the upstairs bedroom Joshua had moved to when Eli’s ma Rachel had come to stay, giving her the guest suite downstairs. Tucker suspected that Josh was already planning to bolt weeks ago; it looked like he’d barely unpacked anything. Tucker had followed him right upstairs after breakfast, not wanting to argue in front of the hands and their guest, and the only thing he had left to pack was the zip-top plastic bag with his toiletries in it. “I don’t get it, son. You said yourself that you wouldn’t be starting back with the Bureau for another couple of weeks while they got your paperwork straightened out. And I know for a fact that you ain’t found an apartment yet. Where the Sam Hill are you goin’?”

“Hotel,” Joshua said curtly. “Bureau’s footing the bill.”

“But shit, Josh, what’s the point? You can stay here. Ain’t nobody throwing you out.”

“You told me once that you didn’t want any bullshit about nasty breakups affecting the ranch, and that if I caused trouble like that, you’d send me back to my mother in pieces. I’m just saving you the trouble.” He dug around in the duffel and found a piece of paper, which he handed to Tucker. “There’s my e-mail address. You have my cell phone. If you run into any trouble with the books, or any of the programs, call or e-mail me and I can walk you through it. But it’s pretty well organized—shouldn’t take you more than an hour or so a day to keep it up to date. Just remember to get the bills entered as soon as you get them and the program will remind you when they have to be paid. I imagine Eli can help you out with that, even if he complains about it.”

“Eli. This is all about Eli.”

“Of course it is.”

“He loves you….”

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