Fanfic: My Only Piece of You | 3 of 3
Title: My Only Piece of You
Type: AU
Rated: R
If you need them...
Part I
Part II
**
Kris sat against the headboard, one hand holding a paperback book, the other in Adam’s hair as he lay across Kris’s lap.
“So there’s a party,” Adam said, sighing as Kris’s nails scraped along his scalp. “It’s next week, can you make it? Will you come with me?”
“If it’s over a weekend, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Kris replied. His eyes started to cross as the morning sun moved out of the bedroom and decided to light up the kitchen. Too lazy to switch on the lamp, he put the book down on the bedside table.
“Wait, isn’t that Halloween weekend,” Kris asked.
“It’s Halloween themed, yes,” Adam hedged. “Tommy and Liz are throwing it. It’s an annual thing and so fucking fantastic, you have no idea.”
Kris rubbed his eyes. He leaned over for his glasses, instead saw that Adam was twirling them his hand. “So, I suppose they’re expecting people to dress up.”
“It is Halloween,” Adam laughed.
Kris shook his head and sighed, “I don’t know.”
Adam flipped over onto his stomach and put his chin on Kris’s thigh. He pouted, “Come on, please? I love, love Halloween.”
“It’s not that…”
“Then, what?”
“I think it would be weird for me to be socializing with one of my student’s parents. It just seems like it would be strange. For me, for them, for Maddie.”
“Tommy and Liz aren’t like that,” Adam stated.
“I’m sure they’re not, but I would feel weird about it.”
“It’s not like they don’t know about us.”
“I…I…” Kris stuttered.
“You what?”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
Kris was still adjusting to this new life. And, now, suddenly having someone in his life; the speed in which he and Adam got together scared him. It took him everything he had to say no to things Adam wanted to see and do. That night, just two short months ago, inviting Adam into his house, his life…it was one of the biggest leaps he took. And it still felt like he hadn’t landed on anything solid. Kris needed solid under his feet…wanted it; he had too many secrets, too many things he couldn’t share, and he couldn’t risk letting anyone know…even Adam. Especially Adam.
He felt the bed move as Adam got off the bed, watching as Adam pulled on his boxers and stormed into the bathroom.
Something was going to happen, Kris was sure of it. These two and a half years were the longest he had stayed in one place in his entire life. He felt it in his gut, the world he built would come crumbling down; wanted to brace himself for the massive jolt his system would take once it happened. Things like this didn’t happen for people like him. Happily Ever After was never in the cards, and Kris had resigned himself to that. He had accepted it and moved forward to whatever life threw at him.
“I don’t understand, Kris.” Adam argued as he came out of the bathroom some time later, towel wrapped around his hips. “I was thinking about it in the shower, and I…explain it to me.”
Kris forced his eyes to focus on painting behind Adam’s face, because if he looked at Adam, he would fold and agree to whatever he wanted. He had never felt this weak around a person, so willing to give himself over so easily. It had to stop.
“Don’t understand what, Adam?” Kris said, voice growing cold. “I thought I explained that I might be uncomfortable being social with students’ parents.”
“Is it a personal or professional thing?”
“Both,” Kris took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ve only been teaching for two years. It’s my third year at the school. I’ve never seen or heard of instances where the teachers or administrators have hung out with parents in the time I’ve been there. In my previous life, I’ve never mixed the two, and I don’t know if I can in this one.”
Adam pulled a t-shirt over his head and considered Kris’s reply. “I call bullshit.”
Kris got up, threw his glasses onto the dresser and walked past Adam, “Call it what you want. It’s what I feel.” He shut the bathroom door and locked it.
He heard Adam shouting and rattling the door knob as he stood under the spray of water. It was too much, too fast for him. He couldn’t do it. He needed to stop it; stop before he got in any deeper.
Kris walked out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his hips, his hand rubbing his hair with another, a stream of steam following in his wake. The bed had been made and clothes put away. He opened a drawer, pulled out boxers, jeans and a t-shirt. It was quiet in the condo. He was sure Adam had left. God knows he would have.
Two short months. But they were happy months, at least as happy as Kris could allow himself to be. Adam had commented once that he felt like Kris was hiding things; Kris laughed it off and changed the subject. He couldn’t get ingrained into Adam’s life, couldn’t meet his family or friends. Adam would never have all of him, and he didn’t deserve that. No, he deserved someone who could give all of themselves to him and so much more, and that is one thing Kris couldn’t do.
Kris went into the kitchen to scrounge up food. He froze when he saw Adam lying down on the couch. Adam got up as soon as he heard Kris’s footsteps.
“I…I thought you might have left,” Kris admitted.
“Almost did,” Adam said truthfully. He scrubbed his face. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Things are going well between us, aren’t they?”
Kris nodded hesitantly.
Seeing his nod, Adam blew out a breath and continued. “This is new to me, too, but I’m happy. Happy with you.” Adam leaned back against the couch and tugged the afghan around his lap. “But, I don’t know if you are. I’m not one to withhold how I’m feeling to anyone. My friends, my family, they know when I’m happy. I like sharing my happiness with everyone. And, I want to share you with them and them with you.”
Kris shook his head, “Adam…”
“I know it seems like it might be moving too fast,” Adam rushed out. His hands gripped the edge of the couch seat. “But, I want you to meet my friends. They’re a big part of my life. I want them to get to know you, too. I…I know...Megan told me…”
“Told you what?” Kris asked sharply.
Adam hung his head and spoke softly, “She said that you haven’t had many relationships, that you never really had a chance or gave yourself a chance.”
Kris crossed his arms, leaned against the wall of the hallway and stared at Adam. He wanted to say something, deny it, but he couldn’t; he couldn’t explain that he couldn’t allow it. Megan needed to stay out of his business; she was weaving romanticized stories about him to Adam to skirt the truth. It was getting him pissed.
Adam tilted his head and looked up nervously at Kris’s unmoving figure standing like a statue.
“She was just trying to help me understand you,” Adam explained. “I don’t know what you’re thinking a lot of the time. You blow off my questions. The only time I feel like you’re feeling something is when we’re touching, kissing, having sex.”
“So, I shouldn’t be feeling anything while we’re fucking?”
Adam sighed in frustration, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it!”
“And if I’m not the type to share my feelings?”
“I think you are,” Adam said quietly. “I just want you to know it’s okay to express them. To me.”
“And if I don’t want to?” Kris asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adam shook his head, “Can you learn?”
“No.”
**
“I really need you to stop moping Lambert,” Mike said, slapping Adam’s feet off the table as he sat down across from him
They were sitting in the small conference room. Worn couches lined the walls, three mismatched, scuffed coffee tables running between them.
“Whatever,” Adam said scowling and proceeded to prop his feet back up. “It’s just us, no clients.”
Mike threw a file folder like a Frisbee from where he sat. It landed open-faced, papers inside flitting down over Adam’s legs.
“What’s this?” Adam asked, picking up the sheets.
“File on your boy.”
“What?” Adam looked up, confusion on his face. “Why?”
Mike stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “Call it professional curiosity and personal nosiness.”
Adam was going through the papers in front of him, skimming each page. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re my business partner and a good friend,” Mike answered as he strummed his fingers. “I thought I’d run a basic background check on this guy. Make sure he’s on the up-and-up.” He held up a hand seeing Adam about to object. “I know I shouldn’t have, that it’s none of my business, blah, blah, blah. But, since you’ve been a grade A asshole the last couple of weeks. It’s wearing on me, on the rest of the staff.”
“Plus,” he continued. “We’re in a highly competitive business. We need to watch out for, not just our clients, but ourselves. We have confidential and classified information that our clients trust us with. It wouldn’t be the first time our competitors or even our clients’ competitors have used underhanded means to get it.”
Adam frowned at the documents in his hands, “Why does all this look too clean?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Kris Allen exists, but he doesn’t,” Adam flipped a page to read the other side. “Kristopher Neil Allen of Conway, Arkansas. Driver’s license, school history, and generic work history.” Adam stared at the photo of Kris. Same brown eyes, same crooked smile and an unfortunate number of haircuts and styles in the various ID photos. Marriage license says he married a Katherine O’Connell.” Adam stared at his friend. “But, I met his ex. Her name is Megan.”
“Funny you mention her,” Mike said with a smile. He leaned over and tapped another file folder that sat on the table. “Megan Joy Corkrey of Provo, Utah. Driver’s license, school history, work history, more school credentials. Nothing about a name change or a marriage.”
“I don’t understand,” Adam murmured.
“There’s more to your boy than you know,” Mike said ominously. “He’s either hiding something and lying about it or he’s the world’s dullest person. This marriage thing is definitely a crock of shit or he’s punking someone. You might want to find out which.”
Adam studied the paperwork. He grabbed the other file folder and flipped through the pages quickly.
“Has he said anything? Been acting funny? Asking about work? Our clients?”
“No,” Adam shook his head. “In fact, it’s been the opposite. He doesn’t want to hear about it, never asks about it. We talk about music and movies and books. It’s kind of ridiculous actually how much we don’t talk about work.”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, “But why would they lie about a marriage that didn’t happen? And why would Megan refer potential clients our way? Why was she pushing me to get together with Kris?”
“Things we should ask, no?”
**
Kris taped up the last box and handed it to one of the movers. It was all going into storage until he found a more permanent place. At this point, it might not even happen. Kris quickly and quietly put the condo up for sale three weeks ago after Adam’s last visit. Halloween weekend had come and gone, which Adam had attended without Kris. They hadn’t seen each other since Adam walked out the door, and their phone conversations were stilted at best.
Kris took a final walk around the rooms, making sure that anything he wasn’t carrying with him was boxed away. He loved this place and hoped someone else would love it just as much.
He knew he shouldn’t be running away, but he felt like he had no choice. He got word that people were asking questions about him, looking into his background. He didn’t even realize they were at the school talking to fellow teachers and the headmaster until Cale mentioned something in passing; whoever they were even cornered his parents. Megan was doing no better. She quit her job and went underground. She apologized to him last week and told him she’d be in touch.
Kris leaned against a bare wall as the movers removed the last of the boxes. The driver brought over a clipboard for Kris to sign, more paperwork. Kris had never seen so much paperwork in his life as he did the last week. His body shook as the man closed the door behind him. He would follow them to the storage lockers, close up his possessions and leave town.
Brentwood school was definitely not happy with his resignation, but after claiming a family emergency, the administrators let it go. He didn’t have the heart to tell the students, knowing that the gossip mill would be in full swing, and he couldn’t risk having the news of him leaving be public knowledge. The administrators would use substitutes until the end of the semester, then find another teacher for the remainder of the year. It was a shitty thing to do, but Kris had to get out.
It was a fortunate coincidence that Thanksgiving weekend was coming up. Adam thought he was going to his parent’s house. His parents thought he was spending the weekend with Adam. Instead, he’d use the time to figure out where to go next.
After lining up his suitcases, Kris sat on the floor. He glanced at his wrist to check the time; another half hour before he had to meet the movers and sign even more paperwork. Propping himself against a large suitcase, he eyed the three envelopes and the small box that were at his feet. One envelope held the keys to the condo which his realtor would pick up tomorrow. The second envelope had two old IDs, a new passport, a brand new resume and references for a curator position. He didn’t need to work, but just in case. The third envelope had his contact information and two disposable phones, one for Megan to call him and the other so he could call Megan. This envelope would be dropped off in a safety deposit box they both had access to tomorrow.
It was the box that Kris didn’t want to look at, but he picked it up. He would mail it tomorrow at a local post office. Kris would drive an hour out of his way to do it, but it had to be done.
Tonight, he would start another new life.
**
Adam heard the pounding, and covered his ears with his hands, hoping that it would make the sound go away. He wasn’t that drunk…yet. His head shouldn’t be making that loud of a noise until at least tomorrow morning, after he finished off the second bottle of Maker’s Mark. The pounding and pain would be deserved by then, the punishing thuds and echoes bouncing between skull and brain, which would then wind itself behind his eyes and try to escape through his temples.
“Adam!” a voice shouted. “Open the fucking door!”
He jerked the blanket off his head and squeezed his eyes at the sudden brightness. The pounding wasn’t his head. And, there, even more pounding. He looked around, trying to place the source of it. The door. It was coming from the door.
“I thought you had a key,” another voice yelled.
“I thought you had the spare key,” the first voice yelled back.
The door looked way far away. And, it was too bright in the room. He felt around the couch for his sunglasses, sure that he had them earlier. Adam reached out to the table and knocked over something. Were those his sunglasses? Shit.
There was more noise at the door. Adam closed his eyes. He was pretty sure he should be scared or freaked out by it, but he needed to find his sunglasses. Or maybe he should just cover his head again. It was nice under the blanket. And dark.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” a voice said with relief. “Let’s mark the key with Adam’s initials on it or something for next time, okay?”
“Oh fuck you. At least I had it,” the other voice replied.
“Adam, you goddamn, shit-eating, motherfucker. You had us all worried, you asshole.”
Adam lowered the blanket and saw Tommy and Monte looming over him.
“What?” he croaked out. “What are you doing here?”
“You call out sick to work. Then you don’t answer your phone for two days,” Monte scolded. “You missed our show, which you never do. What the fuck is happening?”
“I’m sick,” Adam replied and tried to pull the blanket back over his head. Monte held it back. He tugged at it, but Monte didn’t let go, and eventually gave up.
“Yeah, obviously,” Tommy sneered, picking up an empty bottle. “It’s barely noon.” He glanced around the room. “It’s a fucking mess and stinks like a dozen drunk asses crashed and burned in here.”
Adam turned over, giving them his back. “If my décor off..offends your sense…sensa…noses, then get the fuck out.”
Monte sat delicately on the edge of the couch, “Talk.”
“I’m tired,” Adam mumbled. “Want to sleep.”
“Well, that’s not happening,” Tommy said opening the windows. He rummaged through the cabinets and held up a trash bag. “If you want to save anything, speak now, otherwise it’s going into the trash.”
Adam just waved his arm, “Whatever, just leave me alone.”
“You look like shit,” Monte said.
“I feel like shit, so you both can leave now.”
“What’s this?” Tommy asked holding up a plain white box that remained unopened on the coffee table. “It’s postmarked Lancaster from, like, a week ago.”
“It’s from him,” Adam answered.
“You haven’t opened it?”
Adam sighed and turned over. He rubbed his face and scratched his head. “No.”
Tommy sat at the end of the table, across from Monte, and held out the box, “When did you get it? You don’t want to know what it is?”
Adam struggled to sit up, and jerked a cushion from under Monte. “It arrived two days ago. Haven’t felt like opening it yet.”
“Why not?”
Adam glared at his friend. Seriously? He wanted to scream and hit and destroy everything around him. He couldn’t open the package because he might throw whatever is inside against the wall.
Tommy thrust the package into Adam’s hands. “You should open it.”
“No.”
“Are you having Sarver look into finding him?” Monte asked, plucking at seams of the couch.
“No.”
“Are you going to talk about it? Tell us what’s going on?” Tommy inquired.
Adam bent his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Listen, I really need you guys to leave and give me some space for a couple of days, okay?”
Monte patted his knee, “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Tommy got up and started to throw items into the trash bag. “I’m going to clean this shit up. Then we’ll leave, okay?”
Adam nodded, but didn’t look at them.
Monte bent over to pick up trash from the floor around the couch. He stood up and helped clear items off the table.
“You call us tomorrow, otherwise we’ll be back. And you really don’t want us coming back to check up on you.” Tommy stated calmly.
Adam closed his eyes and let himself fall into the corner of his couch.
**
Two Months Later
Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Cruz, CA
Kris leaned his bare forearms against the rickety wood railing, watching the dark, angry waves pound against the rocks below him, shooting sprays of ice-cold water up and around. Seagulls circled above him, screeching and wailing in the cold January air. He was tempted to go down to the beach and stand in front of the hammering water, just to feel something.
He tugged the sleeves of his shirt down and headed off the pier and towards the boardwalk, the food and game kiosks closed up in heavy tarp, the rides dark abandoned for the winter months. His lone footsteps clicked heavily against the solid wood, bouncing and echoing in the silence.
After leaving Los Angeles, Kris headed east, hoping that the open desert air would pacify his muddled mind. Giant wind turbine generator farms dotted the land to the left and right of him as he drove, the massive propellers rotating lazily. He stopped in Palm Springs, hiding out in his room for a week, the only human contact with the hotel employees.
As he checked out, the urge to turn around was too strong. Turning the car around, he started the drive back westbound, but instead of going into the belly of Los Angeles, he headed north, merging onto Interstate 5. He found himself not able to drive further than San Jose. Even though San Francisco was just another hour away, he found himself getting lost in the small downtown area. After two nights in a small boutique hotel, he rented a studio above a bar. Kris made sure he got a month-to-month deal, as he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stay longer than a couple of months anyway. He needed to be on the move; still too close to what he was running away from.
The vibration in his pocket startled him; he pulled the phone out.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Are you alone?” Megan asked.
“I’m always alone,” he replied.
Megan sighed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
“It’s okay, Megan,” Kris said wearily. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I feel like it is.”
“It’s not. I got complacent when I should have known better,” Kris replied. He reached the end of the boardwalk and stared up at the towering skeleton of the roller coaster. Finally feeling chills, he headed back to the parking lot.
“Sounds cold where you are,” Megan remarked.
“It is.”
“Tell me you’re wearing a jacket.”
Kris smiled, “Nope.”
Megan sighed, “What am I going to do with you?”
“How are you doing?” Kris asked, changing the topic back to her.
“I’m good,” she replied. “Thinking of Manhattan or Miami. Haven’t decided yet.” She hedged, “You going to stay out on the West Coast?”
He could hear Megan’s smile over the phone. This is the longest they hadn’t seen each other in five years, and he missed her.
“What makes you think I’m on the West Coast?”
Megan laughed, “I’m blond, Kris, not stupid. I can hear the seagulls and the ocean in the background. And since you said it’s cold, I’m thinking you’re not in Hawaii. Plus, the phone worked, so you’re not anywhere tropical like in the Caribbean or Fiji.”
“Fine, yes, still out this way.”
“He’s still looking for you, you know.”
Kris opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He figured it would be the case. The way he left…no good-byes. “I know,” he answered.
“They’re good,” she stated. “Didn’t realize how deep their contacts ran or how low-brow they could go.”
Kris laughed at that, “Considering him and his partner are ex-Feds? You shouldn’t be surprised at their reach. Wouldn’t be surprised if they asked their friends at the Bureau for favors at this point.”
“True.”
“You doin’ okay though? Really?”
“I’m fine, Kris. Just called to say I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby.”
“And, if you wanted to talk.”
Kris stiffened and ignored it as he fished the keys out of his pocket.
“Fine,” she said. “You don’t want to talk.”
“Nothing to talk about,” Kris said getting into the car.
His body shook with the temperature change, making him shake almost violently. He started the car and set the heat on high, hoping he could warm up quickly.
“If you two met under different circumstances…” Megan started.
“Don’t,” Kris said loudly. He placed the phone on speaker and rubbed his hands together. Lowering his voice, he spoke, “Just…Megan, don’t. Let’s not do this, please.”
“What if he finds you? What are you going to do?”
“He won’t.”
“But, what if?” she insisted.
“What difference does it make?”
“It’s not like you’re still running around the world pilfering shit. He’s not a Fed anymore and you’re no longer a thief. You’re both private citizens, so I don’t understand…”
“He still has ties to the FBI. Most of the stuff I took is still under investigation, and they’re not closed cases…not even close to being cold. I can’t put myself…and you…or him in that position.” Kris grabbed the phone and held it to his ear, “Megan, just…don’t, okay sweetie? Some things aren’t meant to be.”
“But…”
“Thank you for making sure he was in my life, even for that short period of time. But, it’s best for both of us this way.”
**
Four Months Later
New York City
Adam handed a 20 dollar bill to the driver and stepped out of the cab with his backpack and suit jacket. The trees along the median of Park Avenue bloomed under the late afternoon sun, blossoms scenting the air in a sweetness rarely found in Manhattan. The May weather was cool, which he was grateful for, it meant not showing up like a sweat-drenched gutter rat. He smiled at the doorman and entered the Loews Regency Hotel.
He walked through the richly appointed lobby, dark wood paneling that glowed gold with subtle lighting; moving past the hushed movements of waiters as they dropped off drinks to people sitting on leather chairs near the bar. Adam turned the corner and headed directly to the elevator banks.
Adam tapped his foot on the marble floor as he waited for an elevator to arrive. He looked at his reflection in the mirrored wall and adjusted his tie and checked his watch. 5:27PM. His presence was requested, his promptness demanded. This informant had no idea what he would go through to get information.
Two days ago, Mike had handed him a file folder, which contained a letter and a plane ticket. They had a lead, a tenuous one, but Adam rushed home to pack a small bag. The early morning flight was delayed and landed at JFK late, barely giving him time to check-into his hotel and change before their source called and demanded a rendezvous at Union Square Park not even 20 minutes later. A woman bumped into him and slipped a swan-shaped origami note into his pocket and disappeared into the subway station, not giving Adam any time to identify her.
As he stood in the park, he protected the note by cupping it under his palm in his pocket. Adam’s senses took in the frenzy around him: office workers rushing to get home, the rumbling of the subway underneath his feet, the music playing through tinny portable speakers by teenagers hanging out on the cement steps.
The park lights lit up, and Adam headed east through the park. He needed the walk to clear his thoughts, brace himself for what the note might say, to see if he made this crazy, cross-country trip for nothing. At Park Ave., South, he made a left to go north. His ears muted the boisterous sounds of the city around him; the honking of the cabs, the shouts of street vendors trying to get rid of the last of their day’s wares, people talking loudly on their cell phones.
His phone buzzed, but Adam ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone until he got a chance to review the note that sat in his pocket. In an automatic dance, he weaved around and through the foot traffic, making sure no one accidentally bumped into him and crunched the delicate note in his hand. At 31st Street, he veered east until glass doors of The Roger Williams hotel came into view.
Adam stepped through the glass doors into the lobby, unsure of whether to go up to his room or the bar. He took in small crowd at the bar and quickly nixed that idea. Taking a step towards the elevator, he paused, not sure he wanted to be alone in the room just yet. Eyeing the poster promoting the rooftop bar, Adam split the difference and waited for the elevator to take him to the top floor. He would be able to get a drink, a small bite to eat and study the note in relative quiet.
Adam shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded in silence as another passenger entered the elevator with him. The note he had tightly gripped in his hand told him nothing last night. Just gave him a time, place and room number. It also said to be on time. If he was even one minute late, the door wouldn’t open. And naturally, the informant had picked a hotel where loitering on the floor outside the door wouldn’t go unnoticed. Security would have his ass on the street faster than a politician denying a homosexual affair.
The elevator opened up on the seventh floor. Adam followed the signs that led him to the end of the hall where room 703 was located.
He stretched his arms and crooked his neck to the side to loosen his muscles and slowly approached the door. 5:30PM. He knocked.
**
Adam ignored the phone calls and text messages that were coming in every few seconds, blowing up his phone. Annoyed, he turned the phone off, not wanting to deal with anyone. He was still recovering from the shock of it all.
He had knocked on the door and an elderly woman opened it. Her soft, smiling face was lined with wrinkles, gray hair pulled back in a tight bun.
“Come on in, Mr. Lambert,” she said opening the door wider. She stood aside as he entered the suite. Candles lined the credenza next to the slightly open window, a few pairs of women’s shoes were strewn on the floor, a lightweight Burberry coat hug from the door of the armoire and a tea setting sat on the coffee table.
“My, you’re much more handsome than I imagined,” she giggled. She went to the tea set, “Would you like some tea?’
Adam gave her a smile and felt himself getting embarrassed, “Thank you ma’am.” He shook his head at the tea offer, “No thank you, I’m fine.”
She nodded and pointed overstuffed chair in front of the credenza, “Please have a seat over there. I’ll get her for you.” She padded off to the bedroom door, knocked and went inside.
He tried to distract himself by looking around the living room area of the suite, but his eyes kept going to a pair of beige stilettos that were on the floor. He tried to remember why they looked familiar.
The sound of the door opening made him swing his head up. He withheld the gasp as Megan walked out barefoot, in board shorts and a tank top. She smiled nervously as she approached him.
“Megan?” he choked out.
“Hi Adam,” she responded softly.
“What?” he shook his head. “What’s going on?”
“You and your team have been busy the last couple of months, pretty much being a pain in the ass snooping around,” she said.
He shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on.
“It finally came to my attention that you were looking for information, and I think we can help each other out.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
Megan poured herself a cup of tea and sat in the middle of the couch. She pulled both legs up to cross them delicately as she held the cup upright without spilling a drop.
“I’m here to offer you information in exchange for a deal. A promise of faith. Can I trust you with this?” she challenged.
“A deal? What kind of deal? Of course you can trust me.” Adam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Tell me, and I swear I’ll do what I can, but I’m not understanding, Megan.”
Megan took a sip and placed the cup onto the saucer that sat on the table. She slapped her legs and met his eyes, “Okay, here’s the deal. I going to give you the information you want. The information you’ve been searching out, not so subtly.”
She leaned over and motioned with her hands, “Specifics, down to the tiniest detail. But know this…there’s going to be a lot to process. The part you want, the part that is relevant to you, will be worth it in the end. I can promise you that much. All I’m asking in exchange is that you don’t do anything with the other information. Immunity, in a sense, for everyone involved. The minute you make the irrelevant parts into something, I’ll find out about it and all bets are off. You’ll search the entire world, inch-by-agonizing-inch, but you won’t get what you want…ever.”
Adam hung his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “Megan, you’re speaking in riddles, and I think I’m too tired to try and understand.” He looked up at her beautiful face, unsmiling and cold. “I promise. I’ll give you anything, do anything you want. I just…” his voice hitched. “If I think you’re going to tell me what I think you are, I’ll do whatever you want. I swear.”
Megan stared at him, her blue eyes looking deep into his. She licked her lips and pulled at the hem of her shorts.
“Tell me,” he pleaded.
“Hold onto your panties, Lambert. It’s going to be ugly.” She clasped her hand together. “I just hope you don’t hate him for this.”
That was hours ago. Adam didn’t even know what time it was; he had staggered out of the suite and ran out of the hotel, not caring who he bumped into or knocked over. Adam wandered the empty streets, as empty as Manhattan could be this late at night; not paying attention to where he was going, just knew he had to keep walking. If he stopped, everything he learned would come crashing down on him like an avalanche.
Adam found himself stumbling on the cobblestone path on the east side of Central Park. His legs shaking and body trembling, he stopped and looked up, the front of the Metropolitan Museum, its long narrow stairs and giant columns loomed above him. Sitting on one of the long cement steps, he loosened his tie and tried to process everything he learned.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he screamed into the air, startling birds from the trees around him.
**
You can find him
Sittin’ on your doorstep
Waiting for the surprise
It will feel like he’s been there for hours
And you can tell that he’ll be there for life
Daydreamer
With eyes that make you melt
He lend his coat for shelter
Plus he’s there for you
When he shouldn’t be…
Kris had his eyes closed at he sat in his office, singing and playing the guitar.
…But I will find him
Sittin’ on my doorstep
Waiting for the surprise
It will feel like he’s been there for hours
And I can tell that he’ll be there for life…
He felt the drip on his hand before he realized he was crying. Brushing the tears off his face with the back of his hands, Kris put his guitar away carefully in its case. He blew out a breath and stood up to file his paperwork.
“That was amazing,” a soft voice said from the open doorway.
Kris looked up in surprise, eyes widening at the last person he expected to see, leaning against the doorjamb. He stumbled backwards, knocking over his chair.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that. I mean, I knew you sang, but that was just…”
Kris rubbed his eyes and turned to upright the chair, thinking that he had finally gone over the edge Megan warned him about. He was hallucinating the image of Adam in his doorway; he had to be. There was no way Adam had been able to track him down, especially to his office at this gallery in San Jose. He had covered his trail too well.
I’m losing my mind, Kris thought.
“No, you’re not losing your mind. I’m really here,” Adam replied with a low chuckle.
“Shit.”
Adam laughed. He looked at Kris softly and asked, “Can I come in?”
Kris remained unmoving behind his desk, thinking…hoping…the barrier would protect him. Or rather prevent him from jumping into Adam’s arms. All these months, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. His brain was scrambling to keep up with the frantic stream of thoughts, words and images that were flying through it, ricocheting from one side to another. His body was numb from the surprise but throbbing at the memories he thought were buried away. He couldn’t move as Adam came through the door and came towards him, slowly, tentatively as if Kris would run away.
Kris opened his mouth to speak…to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Realizing he might look like a gaping fish, he shut his mouth; instead wrapped his arms around himself and ordered his lungs to work, to breathe. He cleared his throat, “What…How did you find me?” he blurted.
“That’s the Adele song you sang at the fundraiser, right? When we first met?” Adam asked, ignoring Kris’s question.
Kris could only nod. He squeezed himself tighter, hands balling into fists at his side, nails digging into his palms. This had to be a dream.
“It sounded different this time,” Adam said as he came around the desk. “More wistful, sad.” Adam shrugged, “Or maybe it’s the more intimate setting in here.”
Kris backed up as Adam kept edging up into his space, the chair behind him sliding smoothly to the side to make room for Adam’s advance. He glared at it. Fucking, traitorous chair. His back hit the bookshelf, effectively trapped himself. Adam’s hands remained in his back pockets, which in turn, stretched his shirt tight across his chest, buttons straining. Kris forced himself not to look down Adam’s body.
“How’d you find me?” Kris asked again, voice shaking. “How’d you get in here?”
“I had some help,” Adam answered. “Your boss Sylvia is adorable, by the way, I’m sure you know that. What you probably didn’t realize was that she’s a die-hard, hopeless romantic.” Adam smirked. “She said to lock up, by the way, James.”
Adam was staring at him, his blue eyes roaming all over Kris’s face and body. Kris felt himself get warm under the scrutiny.
“You’re thinner,” Adam stated. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”
“I’m…I’m fine,” Kris said.
“What happened to your eyes? Why are you wearing colored lenses? Where are your glasses?”
Kris lifted his shoulders in a half-assed shrug, “Needed a change.”
“I don’t like it. You don’t look like you,” Adam growled. He rolled his eyes, “I guess that was the point, right? When you don’t want to be found. Just didn’t give you enough credit or know how good you were at this.”
“What do you want?”
“I thought I made that clear from the get-go.” Adam stated, crowding him in, standing so close, Kris could feel his warm breath tickle the hairs at his temple. “You.”
**
Sitting in the car, Adam contemplated what he would say. He was parked in an empty lot behind the small building, in the shadow of the convention center. Thinking back, he shouldn’t have doubted Megan, but had to triple-check the details himself to make sure. After all this time, he wasn’t taking any chances. He had seen the pictures, verified the videos for weeks to confirm everything. Before he made a move, he had to be sure. It was him.
Adam heard the music and followed it down the empty hallway. He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should actually do this or not. The door was open, so he hung back, listening, watching Kris sing softly to an audience of one.
The lyrics tugged at Adam’s soul. No, it wasn’t a mistake…he had to do this. He would honor his promise to Megan, but more than that, he would honor his heart. Fuck everything and everyone else, Kris was the man he wanted. And now that he found him, he’d do everything to make sure he didn’t disappear again.
Nine long months of searching, running into barriers and dead-ends over a relationship that technically wasn’t. The chance encounter that wasn’t really chance. Heartbreak and happiness…weren’t they intertwined anyway? One always came with the other, it was the yin and yang of relationships. That’s what mattered, not the length of time, but what they felt.
As Kris continued to sing and play, Adam took the time to take in the man he thought he had lost forever…again. He’d fight like Hell to make sure it didn’t happen again. Kris’s hair was longer, face and body thinner than he remembered. Kris was always small, muscled, but not delicate. He loved Kris’s body, underlying strength under that soft skin. But he looked tiny. When Kris lifted his face and wiped at the tears, Adam noticed the bags and dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look on his face. Adam’s heart hurt.
But as he stood there, just mere inches away from him, feeling Kris’s erratic heartbeat as if it was his own, Adam knew he made the right decision. He would do anything to have him in his life again. As long as Kris promised not to disappear again, to stay in his life, Adam could and would forgive anything and everything.
Adam’s blood surged with heat when Kris leaned his head onto his shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” Kris whispered. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m where I need to be. Where I want to be.”
Adam pulled out a silver and black paperweight from his coat pocket and held it between them. Kris lifted his head, looking at what he was holding, in surprise.
“You…you actually kept it?”
“To me, this was the only thing I had, my only piece of you,” Adam explained. “I realized what it was a few days after I opened the box. I didn’t want to return it to the museum, or turn it over to the proper authorities. A part of me thought I should, but I couldn’t. I didn’t need to be a hero. I needed you.”
Adam slipped it back into his pocket and tilted Kris’s face up, seeing his bloodshot eyes. “Once that decision was made, I knew I had to find you. Find you for me.”
Kris lowered his eyes, “I’m sorry.”
Adam cupped Kris’s face carefully. He wiped the small stream of tears with his thumbs and placed his forehead onto Kris’s, breathing him in.
“Don’t run away from me again. Please.” Adam murmured. “It hurt so much.” He shifted his hands to stroke Kris’s neck while he pressed down light kisses to the wet trails the tears left behind on his cheek. “I can deal with everything else, the past, the mistakes, the fights, the misunderstandings. But I can’t…I can’t do this again. I think if you left me again, it would actually kill me. On every level.”
Adam felt Kris’s arms wrap around his waist. Sighing with relief, he pulled Kris in tight.
“Can you promise me that? Can you promise that you’ll at least say good-bye?”
**
One Year Later
North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii
Kris looked out at the baby waves of low tide crashing onto the sandy beach; their giant older brothers having taken the evening off after an afternoon of crushing surfers’ dreams. He was leaning against the smooth white rail of the veranda, as the full moon cast a bright glow around the jetty of rocks and cluster of palm trees that bordered the house.
The sounds of music, laughter and glasses clinking in toasts filled the house. He tugged at his collar, trying to loosen the tie without actually taking it off. It was a balmy October night, warm and welcoming, no place for suits. But, Adam would kill him. And as he thought the name, a pair of warm arms hugged him from behind, a light kiss at the tip of his ear. Kris smiled.
“What are you doing out here?”
Kris moved back into Adam’s chest, “Just getting some air. Didn’t realize Sylvia knew this many people on the island.”
“It’s her 50th wedding anniversary, you expected her to go half-assed with the party? Plus, I think most of the guests are friends of her son since he’s the one that actually lives here. And, I think she’s capable of killing him if he didn’t go big.”
Laughing, Kris said, “True, but I also didn’t expect a formal gathering with cocktail dresses and suits, especially in Hawaii.” Kris tugged at his collar again.
“Aww, let your boss have her fun.” Adam covered Kris’s hands and lowered them to the waist. “Stop that.”
“Not complaining, just making a statement.”
Adam squeezed him, tangling their arms together, “Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Kris wriggled and turned his body, “I should start saying my good-byes now then, I guess.”
Adam smirked, “Glad you finally got into the habit of doing that.”
“Got yelled at by someone for not doing it on a regular basis.”
“I should thank that person.”
Kris wound his arms around Adam’s neck, “Nah, don’t bother. He’s kind of an ass. I don’t think he’d appreciate it. I sort of put him through a lot of shit, so he’s sensitive about it, but I’ll pass along the message though.”
“Are you sure?” Adam asked, nuzzling Kris’s neck.
“I don’t mind, actually.”
“No?”
“No,” Kris answered. He used his hands to tug Adam’s head up and kissed his chin as Adam lowered his face, their lips touching. “He got me to stop running. I kind of love him for that.”
“So you love this person?”
“I make sure I kiss him good-bye every day.”
~~the end~~
**the song is "Daydreamer" by Adele**
Type: AU
Rated: R
If you need them...
Part I
Part II
**
Kris sat against the headboard, one hand holding a paperback book, the other in Adam’s hair as he lay across Kris’s lap.
“So there’s a party,” Adam said, sighing as Kris’s nails scraped along his scalp. “It’s next week, can you make it? Will you come with me?”
“If it’s over a weekend, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Kris replied. His eyes started to cross as the morning sun moved out of the bedroom and decided to light up the kitchen. Too lazy to switch on the lamp, he put the book down on the bedside table.
“Wait, isn’t that Halloween weekend,” Kris asked.
“It’s Halloween themed, yes,” Adam hedged. “Tommy and Liz are throwing it. It’s an annual thing and so fucking fantastic, you have no idea.”
Kris rubbed his eyes. He leaned over for his glasses, instead saw that Adam was twirling them his hand. “So, I suppose they’re expecting people to dress up.”
“It is Halloween,” Adam laughed.
Kris shook his head and sighed, “I don’t know.”
Adam flipped over onto his stomach and put his chin on Kris’s thigh. He pouted, “Come on, please? I love, love Halloween.”
“It’s not that…”
“Then, what?”
“I think it would be weird for me to be socializing with one of my student’s parents. It just seems like it would be strange. For me, for them, for Maddie.”
“Tommy and Liz aren’t like that,” Adam stated.
“I’m sure they’re not, but I would feel weird about it.”
“It’s not like they don’t know about us.”
“I…I…” Kris stuttered.
“You what?”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
Kris was still adjusting to this new life. And, now, suddenly having someone in his life; the speed in which he and Adam got together scared him. It took him everything he had to say no to things Adam wanted to see and do. That night, just two short months ago, inviting Adam into his house, his life…it was one of the biggest leaps he took. And it still felt like he hadn’t landed on anything solid. Kris needed solid under his feet…wanted it; he had too many secrets, too many things he couldn’t share, and he couldn’t risk letting anyone know…even Adam. Especially Adam.
He felt the bed move as Adam got off the bed, watching as Adam pulled on his boxers and stormed into the bathroom.
Something was going to happen, Kris was sure of it. These two and a half years were the longest he had stayed in one place in his entire life. He felt it in his gut, the world he built would come crumbling down; wanted to brace himself for the massive jolt his system would take once it happened. Things like this didn’t happen for people like him. Happily Ever After was never in the cards, and Kris had resigned himself to that. He had accepted it and moved forward to whatever life threw at him.
“I don’t understand, Kris.” Adam argued as he came out of the bathroom some time later, towel wrapped around his hips. “I was thinking about it in the shower, and I…explain it to me.”
Kris forced his eyes to focus on painting behind Adam’s face, because if he looked at Adam, he would fold and agree to whatever he wanted. He had never felt this weak around a person, so willing to give himself over so easily. It had to stop.
“Don’t understand what, Adam?” Kris said, voice growing cold. “I thought I explained that I might be uncomfortable being social with students’ parents.”
“Is it a personal or professional thing?”
“Both,” Kris took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ve only been teaching for two years. It’s my third year at the school. I’ve never seen or heard of instances where the teachers or administrators have hung out with parents in the time I’ve been there. In my previous life, I’ve never mixed the two, and I don’t know if I can in this one.”
Adam pulled a t-shirt over his head and considered Kris’s reply. “I call bullshit.”
Kris got up, threw his glasses onto the dresser and walked past Adam, “Call it what you want. It’s what I feel.” He shut the bathroom door and locked it.
He heard Adam shouting and rattling the door knob as he stood under the spray of water. It was too much, too fast for him. He couldn’t do it. He needed to stop it; stop before he got in any deeper.
Kris walked out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his hips, his hand rubbing his hair with another, a stream of steam following in his wake. The bed had been made and clothes put away. He opened a drawer, pulled out boxers, jeans and a t-shirt. It was quiet in the condo. He was sure Adam had left. God knows he would have.
Two short months. But they were happy months, at least as happy as Kris could allow himself to be. Adam had commented once that he felt like Kris was hiding things; Kris laughed it off and changed the subject. He couldn’t get ingrained into Adam’s life, couldn’t meet his family or friends. Adam would never have all of him, and he didn’t deserve that. No, he deserved someone who could give all of themselves to him and so much more, and that is one thing Kris couldn’t do.
Kris went into the kitchen to scrounge up food. He froze when he saw Adam lying down on the couch. Adam got up as soon as he heard Kris’s footsteps.
“I…I thought you might have left,” Kris admitted.
“Almost did,” Adam said truthfully. He scrubbed his face. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Things are going well between us, aren’t they?”
Kris nodded hesitantly.
Seeing his nod, Adam blew out a breath and continued. “This is new to me, too, but I’m happy. Happy with you.” Adam leaned back against the couch and tugged the afghan around his lap. “But, I don’t know if you are. I’m not one to withhold how I’m feeling to anyone. My friends, my family, they know when I’m happy. I like sharing my happiness with everyone. And, I want to share you with them and them with you.”
Kris shook his head, “Adam…”
“I know it seems like it might be moving too fast,” Adam rushed out. His hands gripped the edge of the couch seat. “But, I want you to meet my friends. They’re a big part of my life. I want them to get to know you, too. I…I know...Megan told me…”
“Told you what?” Kris asked sharply.
Adam hung his head and spoke softly, “She said that you haven’t had many relationships, that you never really had a chance or gave yourself a chance.”
Kris crossed his arms, leaned against the wall of the hallway and stared at Adam. He wanted to say something, deny it, but he couldn’t; he couldn’t explain that he couldn’t allow it. Megan needed to stay out of his business; she was weaving romanticized stories about him to Adam to skirt the truth. It was getting him pissed.
Adam tilted his head and looked up nervously at Kris’s unmoving figure standing like a statue.
“She was just trying to help me understand you,” Adam explained. “I don’t know what you’re thinking a lot of the time. You blow off my questions. The only time I feel like you’re feeling something is when we’re touching, kissing, having sex.”
“So, I shouldn’t be feeling anything while we’re fucking?”
Adam sighed in frustration, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it!”
“And if I’m not the type to share my feelings?”
“I think you are,” Adam said quietly. “I just want you to know it’s okay to express them. To me.”
“And if I don’t want to?” Kris asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adam shook his head, “Can you learn?”
“No.”
**
“I really need you to stop moping Lambert,” Mike said, slapping Adam’s feet off the table as he sat down across from him
They were sitting in the small conference room. Worn couches lined the walls, three mismatched, scuffed coffee tables running between them.
“Whatever,” Adam said scowling and proceeded to prop his feet back up. “It’s just us, no clients.”
Mike threw a file folder like a Frisbee from where he sat. It landed open-faced, papers inside flitting down over Adam’s legs.
“What’s this?” Adam asked, picking up the sheets.
“File on your boy.”
“What?” Adam looked up, confusion on his face. “Why?”
Mike stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “Call it professional curiosity and personal nosiness.”
Adam was going through the papers in front of him, skimming each page. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re my business partner and a good friend,” Mike answered as he strummed his fingers. “I thought I’d run a basic background check on this guy. Make sure he’s on the up-and-up.” He held up a hand seeing Adam about to object. “I know I shouldn’t have, that it’s none of my business, blah, blah, blah. But, since you’ve been a grade A asshole the last couple of weeks. It’s wearing on me, on the rest of the staff.”
“Plus,” he continued. “We’re in a highly competitive business. We need to watch out for, not just our clients, but ourselves. We have confidential and classified information that our clients trust us with. It wouldn’t be the first time our competitors or even our clients’ competitors have used underhanded means to get it.”
Adam frowned at the documents in his hands, “Why does all this look too clean?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Kris Allen exists, but he doesn’t,” Adam flipped a page to read the other side. “Kristopher Neil Allen of Conway, Arkansas. Driver’s license, school history, and generic work history.” Adam stared at the photo of Kris. Same brown eyes, same crooked smile and an unfortunate number of haircuts and styles in the various ID photos. Marriage license says he married a Katherine O’Connell.” Adam stared at his friend. “But, I met his ex. Her name is Megan.”
“Funny you mention her,” Mike said with a smile. He leaned over and tapped another file folder that sat on the table. “Megan Joy Corkrey of Provo, Utah. Driver’s license, school history, work history, more school credentials. Nothing about a name change or a marriage.”
“I don’t understand,” Adam murmured.
“There’s more to your boy than you know,” Mike said ominously. “He’s either hiding something and lying about it or he’s the world’s dullest person. This marriage thing is definitely a crock of shit or he’s punking someone. You might want to find out which.”
Adam studied the paperwork. He grabbed the other file folder and flipped through the pages quickly.
“Has he said anything? Been acting funny? Asking about work? Our clients?”
“No,” Adam shook his head. “In fact, it’s been the opposite. He doesn’t want to hear about it, never asks about it. We talk about music and movies and books. It’s kind of ridiculous actually how much we don’t talk about work.”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, “But why would they lie about a marriage that didn’t happen? And why would Megan refer potential clients our way? Why was she pushing me to get together with Kris?”
“Things we should ask, no?”
**
Kris taped up the last box and handed it to one of the movers. It was all going into storage until he found a more permanent place. At this point, it might not even happen. Kris quickly and quietly put the condo up for sale three weeks ago after Adam’s last visit. Halloween weekend had come and gone, which Adam had attended without Kris. They hadn’t seen each other since Adam walked out the door, and their phone conversations were stilted at best.
Kris took a final walk around the rooms, making sure that anything he wasn’t carrying with him was boxed away. He loved this place and hoped someone else would love it just as much.
He knew he shouldn’t be running away, but he felt like he had no choice. He got word that people were asking questions about him, looking into his background. He didn’t even realize they were at the school talking to fellow teachers and the headmaster until Cale mentioned something in passing; whoever they were even cornered his parents. Megan was doing no better. She quit her job and went underground. She apologized to him last week and told him she’d be in touch.
Kris leaned against a bare wall as the movers removed the last of the boxes. The driver brought over a clipboard for Kris to sign, more paperwork. Kris had never seen so much paperwork in his life as he did the last week. His body shook as the man closed the door behind him. He would follow them to the storage lockers, close up his possessions and leave town.
Brentwood school was definitely not happy with his resignation, but after claiming a family emergency, the administrators let it go. He didn’t have the heart to tell the students, knowing that the gossip mill would be in full swing, and he couldn’t risk having the news of him leaving be public knowledge. The administrators would use substitutes until the end of the semester, then find another teacher for the remainder of the year. It was a shitty thing to do, but Kris had to get out.
It was a fortunate coincidence that Thanksgiving weekend was coming up. Adam thought he was going to his parent’s house. His parents thought he was spending the weekend with Adam. Instead, he’d use the time to figure out where to go next.
After lining up his suitcases, Kris sat on the floor. He glanced at his wrist to check the time; another half hour before he had to meet the movers and sign even more paperwork. Propping himself against a large suitcase, he eyed the three envelopes and the small box that were at his feet. One envelope held the keys to the condo which his realtor would pick up tomorrow. The second envelope had two old IDs, a new passport, a brand new resume and references for a curator position. He didn’t need to work, but just in case. The third envelope had his contact information and two disposable phones, one for Megan to call him and the other so he could call Megan. This envelope would be dropped off in a safety deposit box they both had access to tomorrow.
It was the box that Kris didn’t want to look at, but he picked it up. He would mail it tomorrow at a local post office. Kris would drive an hour out of his way to do it, but it had to be done.
Tonight, he would start another new life.
**
Adam heard the pounding, and covered his ears with his hands, hoping that it would make the sound go away. He wasn’t that drunk…yet. His head shouldn’t be making that loud of a noise until at least tomorrow morning, after he finished off the second bottle of Maker’s Mark. The pounding and pain would be deserved by then, the punishing thuds and echoes bouncing between skull and brain, which would then wind itself behind his eyes and try to escape through his temples.
“Adam!” a voice shouted. “Open the fucking door!”
He jerked the blanket off his head and squeezed his eyes at the sudden brightness. The pounding wasn’t his head. And, there, even more pounding. He looked around, trying to place the source of it. The door. It was coming from the door.
“I thought you had a key,” another voice yelled.
“I thought you had the spare key,” the first voice yelled back.
The door looked way far away. And, it was too bright in the room. He felt around the couch for his sunglasses, sure that he had them earlier. Adam reached out to the table and knocked over something. Were those his sunglasses? Shit.
There was more noise at the door. Adam closed his eyes. He was pretty sure he should be scared or freaked out by it, but he needed to find his sunglasses. Or maybe he should just cover his head again. It was nice under the blanket. And dark.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” a voice said with relief. “Let’s mark the key with Adam’s initials on it or something for next time, okay?”
“Oh fuck you. At least I had it,” the other voice replied.
“Adam, you goddamn, shit-eating, motherfucker. You had us all worried, you asshole.”
Adam lowered the blanket and saw Tommy and Monte looming over him.
“What?” he croaked out. “What are you doing here?”
“You call out sick to work. Then you don’t answer your phone for two days,” Monte scolded. “You missed our show, which you never do. What the fuck is happening?”
“I’m sick,” Adam replied and tried to pull the blanket back over his head. Monte held it back. He tugged at it, but Monte didn’t let go, and eventually gave up.
“Yeah, obviously,” Tommy sneered, picking up an empty bottle. “It’s barely noon.” He glanced around the room. “It’s a fucking mess and stinks like a dozen drunk asses crashed and burned in here.”
Adam turned over, giving them his back. “If my décor off..offends your sense…sensa…noses, then get the fuck out.”
Monte sat delicately on the edge of the couch, “Talk.”
“I’m tired,” Adam mumbled. “Want to sleep.”
“Well, that’s not happening,” Tommy said opening the windows. He rummaged through the cabinets and held up a trash bag. “If you want to save anything, speak now, otherwise it’s going into the trash.”
Adam just waved his arm, “Whatever, just leave me alone.”
“You look like shit,” Monte said.
“I feel like shit, so you both can leave now.”
“What’s this?” Tommy asked holding up a plain white box that remained unopened on the coffee table. “It’s postmarked Lancaster from, like, a week ago.”
“It’s from him,” Adam answered.
“You haven’t opened it?”
Adam sighed and turned over. He rubbed his face and scratched his head. “No.”
Tommy sat at the end of the table, across from Monte, and held out the box, “When did you get it? You don’t want to know what it is?”
Adam struggled to sit up, and jerked a cushion from under Monte. “It arrived two days ago. Haven’t felt like opening it yet.”
“Why not?”
Adam glared at his friend. Seriously? He wanted to scream and hit and destroy everything around him. He couldn’t open the package because he might throw whatever is inside against the wall.
Tommy thrust the package into Adam’s hands. “You should open it.”
“No.”
“Are you having Sarver look into finding him?” Monte asked, plucking at seams of the couch.
“No.”
“Are you going to talk about it? Tell us what’s going on?” Tommy inquired.
Adam bent his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Listen, I really need you guys to leave and give me some space for a couple of days, okay?”
Monte patted his knee, “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Tommy got up and started to throw items into the trash bag. “I’m going to clean this shit up. Then we’ll leave, okay?”
Adam nodded, but didn’t look at them.
Monte bent over to pick up trash from the floor around the couch. He stood up and helped clear items off the table.
“You call us tomorrow, otherwise we’ll be back. And you really don’t want us coming back to check up on you.” Tommy stated calmly.
Adam closed his eyes and let himself fall into the corner of his couch.
**
Two Months Later
Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Cruz, CA
Kris leaned his bare forearms against the rickety wood railing, watching the dark, angry waves pound against the rocks below him, shooting sprays of ice-cold water up and around. Seagulls circled above him, screeching and wailing in the cold January air. He was tempted to go down to the beach and stand in front of the hammering water, just to feel something.
He tugged the sleeves of his shirt down and headed off the pier and towards the boardwalk, the food and game kiosks closed up in heavy tarp, the rides dark abandoned for the winter months. His lone footsteps clicked heavily against the solid wood, bouncing and echoing in the silence.
After leaving Los Angeles, Kris headed east, hoping that the open desert air would pacify his muddled mind. Giant wind turbine generator farms dotted the land to the left and right of him as he drove, the massive propellers rotating lazily. He stopped in Palm Springs, hiding out in his room for a week, the only human contact with the hotel employees.
As he checked out, the urge to turn around was too strong. Turning the car around, he started the drive back westbound, but instead of going into the belly of Los Angeles, he headed north, merging onto Interstate 5. He found himself not able to drive further than San Jose. Even though San Francisco was just another hour away, he found himself getting lost in the small downtown area. After two nights in a small boutique hotel, he rented a studio above a bar. Kris made sure he got a month-to-month deal, as he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stay longer than a couple of months anyway. He needed to be on the move; still too close to what he was running away from.
The vibration in his pocket startled him; he pulled the phone out.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Are you alone?” Megan asked.
“I’m always alone,” he replied.
Megan sighed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
“It’s okay, Megan,” Kris said wearily. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I feel like it is.”
“It’s not. I got complacent when I should have known better,” Kris replied. He reached the end of the boardwalk and stared up at the towering skeleton of the roller coaster. Finally feeling chills, he headed back to the parking lot.
“Sounds cold where you are,” Megan remarked.
“It is.”
“Tell me you’re wearing a jacket.”
Kris smiled, “Nope.”
Megan sighed, “What am I going to do with you?”
“How are you doing?” Kris asked, changing the topic back to her.
“I’m good,” she replied. “Thinking of Manhattan or Miami. Haven’t decided yet.” She hedged, “You going to stay out on the West Coast?”
He could hear Megan’s smile over the phone. This is the longest they hadn’t seen each other in five years, and he missed her.
“What makes you think I’m on the West Coast?”
Megan laughed, “I’m blond, Kris, not stupid. I can hear the seagulls and the ocean in the background. And since you said it’s cold, I’m thinking you’re not in Hawaii. Plus, the phone worked, so you’re not anywhere tropical like in the Caribbean or Fiji.”
“Fine, yes, still out this way.”
“He’s still looking for you, you know.”
Kris opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He figured it would be the case. The way he left…no good-byes. “I know,” he answered.
“They’re good,” she stated. “Didn’t realize how deep their contacts ran or how low-brow they could go.”
Kris laughed at that, “Considering him and his partner are ex-Feds? You shouldn’t be surprised at their reach. Wouldn’t be surprised if they asked their friends at the Bureau for favors at this point.”
“True.”
“You doin’ okay though? Really?”
“I’m fine, Kris. Just called to say I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby.”
“And, if you wanted to talk.”
Kris stiffened and ignored it as he fished the keys out of his pocket.
“Fine,” she said. “You don’t want to talk.”
“Nothing to talk about,” Kris said getting into the car.
His body shook with the temperature change, making him shake almost violently. He started the car and set the heat on high, hoping he could warm up quickly.
“If you two met under different circumstances…” Megan started.
“Don’t,” Kris said loudly. He placed the phone on speaker and rubbed his hands together. Lowering his voice, he spoke, “Just…Megan, don’t. Let’s not do this, please.”
“What if he finds you? What are you going to do?”
“He won’t.”
“But, what if?” she insisted.
“What difference does it make?”
“It’s not like you’re still running around the world pilfering shit. He’s not a Fed anymore and you’re no longer a thief. You’re both private citizens, so I don’t understand…”
“He still has ties to the FBI. Most of the stuff I took is still under investigation, and they’re not closed cases…not even close to being cold. I can’t put myself…and you…or him in that position.” Kris grabbed the phone and held it to his ear, “Megan, just…don’t, okay sweetie? Some things aren’t meant to be.”
“But…”
“Thank you for making sure he was in my life, even for that short period of time. But, it’s best for both of us this way.”
**
Four Months Later
New York City
Adam handed a 20 dollar bill to the driver and stepped out of the cab with his backpack and suit jacket. The trees along the median of Park Avenue bloomed under the late afternoon sun, blossoms scenting the air in a sweetness rarely found in Manhattan. The May weather was cool, which he was grateful for, it meant not showing up like a sweat-drenched gutter rat. He smiled at the doorman and entered the Loews Regency Hotel.
He walked through the richly appointed lobby, dark wood paneling that glowed gold with subtle lighting; moving past the hushed movements of waiters as they dropped off drinks to people sitting on leather chairs near the bar. Adam turned the corner and headed directly to the elevator banks.
Adam tapped his foot on the marble floor as he waited for an elevator to arrive. He looked at his reflection in the mirrored wall and adjusted his tie and checked his watch. 5:27PM. His presence was requested, his promptness demanded. This informant had no idea what he would go through to get information.
Two days ago, Mike had handed him a file folder, which contained a letter and a plane ticket. They had a lead, a tenuous one, but Adam rushed home to pack a small bag. The early morning flight was delayed and landed at JFK late, barely giving him time to check-into his hotel and change before their source called and demanded a rendezvous at Union Square Park not even 20 minutes later. A woman bumped into him and slipped a swan-shaped origami note into his pocket and disappeared into the subway station, not giving Adam any time to identify her.
As he stood in the park, he protected the note by cupping it under his palm in his pocket. Adam’s senses took in the frenzy around him: office workers rushing to get home, the rumbling of the subway underneath his feet, the music playing through tinny portable speakers by teenagers hanging out on the cement steps.
The park lights lit up, and Adam headed east through the park. He needed the walk to clear his thoughts, brace himself for what the note might say, to see if he made this crazy, cross-country trip for nothing. At Park Ave., South, he made a left to go north. His ears muted the boisterous sounds of the city around him; the honking of the cabs, the shouts of street vendors trying to get rid of the last of their day’s wares, people talking loudly on their cell phones.
His phone buzzed, but Adam ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone until he got a chance to review the note that sat in his pocket. In an automatic dance, he weaved around and through the foot traffic, making sure no one accidentally bumped into him and crunched the delicate note in his hand. At 31st Street, he veered east until glass doors of The Roger Williams hotel came into view.
Adam stepped through the glass doors into the lobby, unsure of whether to go up to his room or the bar. He took in small crowd at the bar and quickly nixed that idea. Taking a step towards the elevator, he paused, not sure he wanted to be alone in the room just yet. Eyeing the poster promoting the rooftop bar, Adam split the difference and waited for the elevator to take him to the top floor. He would be able to get a drink, a small bite to eat and study the note in relative quiet.
Adam shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded in silence as another passenger entered the elevator with him. The note he had tightly gripped in his hand told him nothing last night. Just gave him a time, place and room number. It also said to be on time. If he was even one minute late, the door wouldn’t open. And naturally, the informant had picked a hotel where loitering on the floor outside the door wouldn’t go unnoticed. Security would have his ass on the street faster than a politician denying a homosexual affair.
The elevator opened up on the seventh floor. Adam followed the signs that led him to the end of the hall where room 703 was located.
He stretched his arms and crooked his neck to the side to loosen his muscles and slowly approached the door. 5:30PM. He knocked.
**
Adam ignored the phone calls and text messages that were coming in every few seconds, blowing up his phone. Annoyed, he turned the phone off, not wanting to deal with anyone. He was still recovering from the shock of it all.
He had knocked on the door and an elderly woman opened it. Her soft, smiling face was lined with wrinkles, gray hair pulled back in a tight bun.
“Come on in, Mr. Lambert,” she said opening the door wider. She stood aside as he entered the suite. Candles lined the credenza next to the slightly open window, a few pairs of women’s shoes were strewn on the floor, a lightweight Burberry coat hug from the door of the armoire and a tea setting sat on the coffee table.
“My, you’re much more handsome than I imagined,” she giggled. She went to the tea set, “Would you like some tea?’
Adam gave her a smile and felt himself getting embarrassed, “Thank you ma’am.” He shook his head at the tea offer, “No thank you, I’m fine.”
She nodded and pointed overstuffed chair in front of the credenza, “Please have a seat over there. I’ll get her for you.” She padded off to the bedroom door, knocked and went inside.
He tried to distract himself by looking around the living room area of the suite, but his eyes kept going to a pair of beige stilettos that were on the floor. He tried to remember why they looked familiar.
The sound of the door opening made him swing his head up. He withheld the gasp as Megan walked out barefoot, in board shorts and a tank top. She smiled nervously as she approached him.
“Megan?” he choked out.
“Hi Adam,” she responded softly.
“What?” he shook his head. “What’s going on?”
“You and your team have been busy the last couple of months, pretty much being a pain in the ass snooping around,” she said.
He shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on.
“It finally came to my attention that you were looking for information, and I think we can help each other out.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
Megan poured herself a cup of tea and sat in the middle of the couch. She pulled both legs up to cross them delicately as she held the cup upright without spilling a drop.
“I’m here to offer you information in exchange for a deal. A promise of faith. Can I trust you with this?” she challenged.
“A deal? What kind of deal? Of course you can trust me.” Adam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Tell me, and I swear I’ll do what I can, but I’m not understanding, Megan.”
Megan took a sip and placed the cup onto the saucer that sat on the table. She slapped her legs and met his eyes, “Okay, here’s the deal. I going to give you the information you want. The information you’ve been searching out, not so subtly.”
She leaned over and motioned with her hands, “Specifics, down to the tiniest detail. But know this…there’s going to be a lot to process. The part you want, the part that is relevant to you, will be worth it in the end. I can promise you that much. All I’m asking in exchange is that you don’t do anything with the other information. Immunity, in a sense, for everyone involved. The minute you make the irrelevant parts into something, I’ll find out about it and all bets are off. You’ll search the entire world, inch-by-agonizing-inch, but you won’t get what you want…ever.”
Adam hung his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “Megan, you’re speaking in riddles, and I think I’m too tired to try and understand.” He looked up at her beautiful face, unsmiling and cold. “I promise. I’ll give you anything, do anything you want. I just…” his voice hitched. “If I think you’re going to tell me what I think you are, I’ll do whatever you want. I swear.”
Megan stared at him, her blue eyes looking deep into his. She licked her lips and pulled at the hem of her shorts.
“Tell me,” he pleaded.
“Hold onto your panties, Lambert. It’s going to be ugly.” She clasped her hand together. “I just hope you don’t hate him for this.”
That was hours ago. Adam didn’t even know what time it was; he had staggered out of the suite and ran out of the hotel, not caring who he bumped into or knocked over. Adam wandered the empty streets, as empty as Manhattan could be this late at night; not paying attention to where he was going, just knew he had to keep walking. If he stopped, everything he learned would come crashing down on him like an avalanche.
Adam found himself stumbling on the cobblestone path on the east side of Central Park. His legs shaking and body trembling, he stopped and looked up, the front of the Metropolitan Museum, its long narrow stairs and giant columns loomed above him. Sitting on one of the long cement steps, he loosened his tie and tried to process everything he learned.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he screamed into the air, startling birds from the trees around him.
**
You can find him
Sittin’ on your doorstep
Waiting for the surprise
It will feel like he’s been there for hours
And you can tell that he’ll be there for life
Daydreamer
With eyes that make you melt
He lend his coat for shelter
Plus he’s there for you
When he shouldn’t be…
Kris had his eyes closed at he sat in his office, singing and playing the guitar.
…But I will find him
Sittin’ on my doorstep
Waiting for the surprise
It will feel like he’s been there for hours
And I can tell that he’ll be there for life…
He felt the drip on his hand before he realized he was crying. Brushing the tears off his face with the back of his hands, Kris put his guitar away carefully in its case. He blew out a breath and stood up to file his paperwork.
“That was amazing,” a soft voice said from the open doorway.
Kris looked up in surprise, eyes widening at the last person he expected to see, leaning against the doorjamb. He stumbled backwards, knocking over his chair.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that. I mean, I knew you sang, but that was just…”
Kris rubbed his eyes and turned to upright the chair, thinking that he had finally gone over the edge Megan warned him about. He was hallucinating the image of Adam in his doorway; he had to be. There was no way Adam had been able to track him down, especially to his office at this gallery in San Jose. He had covered his trail too well.
I’m losing my mind, Kris thought.
“No, you’re not losing your mind. I’m really here,” Adam replied with a low chuckle.
“Shit.”
Adam laughed. He looked at Kris softly and asked, “Can I come in?”
Kris remained unmoving behind his desk, thinking…hoping…the barrier would protect him. Or rather prevent him from jumping into Adam’s arms. All these months, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. His brain was scrambling to keep up with the frantic stream of thoughts, words and images that were flying through it, ricocheting from one side to another. His body was numb from the surprise but throbbing at the memories he thought were buried away. He couldn’t move as Adam came through the door and came towards him, slowly, tentatively as if Kris would run away.
Kris opened his mouth to speak…to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Realizing he might look like a gaping fish, he shut his mouth; instead wrapped his arms around himself and ordered his lungs to work, to breathe. He cleared his throat, “What…How did you find me?” he blurted.
“That’s the Adele song you sang at the fundraiser, right? When we first met?” Adam asked, ignoring Kris’s question.
Kris could only nod. He squeezed himself tighter, hands balling into fists at his side, nails digging into his palms. This had to be a dream.
“It sounded different this time,” Adam said as he came around the desk. “More wistful, sad.” Adam shrugged, “Or maybe it’s the more intimate setting in here.”
Kris backed up as Adam kept edging up into his space, the chair behind him sliding smoothly to the side to make room for Adam’s advance. He glared at it. Fucking, traitorous chair. His back hit the bookshelf, effectively trapped himself. Adam’s hands remained in his back pockets, which in turn, stretched his shirt tight across his chest, buttons straining. Kris forced himself not to look down Adam’s body.
“How’d you find me?” Kris asked again, voice shaking. “How’d you get in here?”
“I had some help,” Adam answered. “Your boss Sylvia is adorable, by the way, I’m sure you know that. What you probably didn’t realize was that she’s a die-hard, hopeless romantic.” Adam smirked. “She said to lock up, by the way, James.”
Adam was staring at him, his blue eyes roaming all over Kris’s face and body. Kris felt himself get warm under the scrutiny.
“You’re thinner,” Adam stated. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”
“I’m…I’m fine,” Kris said.
“What happened to your eyes? Why are you wearing colored lenses? Where are your glasses?”
Kris lifted his shoulders in a half-assed shrug, “Needed a change.”
“I don’t like it. You don’t look like you,” Adam growled. He rolled his eyes, “I guess that was the point, right? When you don’t want to be found. Just didn’t give you enough credit or know how good you were at this.”
“What do you want?”
“I thought I made that clear from the get-go.” Adam stated, crowding him in, standing so close, Kris could feel his warm breath tickle the hairs at his temple. “You.”
**
Sitting in the car, Adam contemplated what he would say. He was parked in an empty lot behind the small building, in the shadow of the convention center. Thinking back, he shouldn’t have doubted Megan, but had to triple-check the details himself to make sure. After all this time, he wasn’t taking any chances. He had seen the pictures, verified the videos for weeks to confirm everything. Before he made a move, he had to be sure. It was him.
Adam heard the music and followed it down the empty hallway. He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should actually do this or not. The door was open, so he hung back, listening, watching Kris sing softly to an audience of one.
The lyrics tugged at Adam’s soul. No, it wasn’t a mistake…he had to do this. He would honor his promise to Megan, but more than that, he would honor his heart. Fuck everything and everyone else, Kris was the man he wanted. And now that he found him, he’d do everything to make sure he didn’t disappear again.
Nine long months of searching, running into barriers and dead-ends over a relationship that technically wasn’t. The chance encounter that wasn’t really chance. Heartbreak and happiness…weren’t they intertwined anyway? One always came with the other, it was the yin and yang of relationships. That’s what mattered, not the length of time, but what they felt.
As Kris continued to sing and play, Adam took the time to take in the man he thought he had lost forever…again. He’d fight like Hell to make sure it didn’t happen again. Kris’s hair was longer, face and body thinner than he remembered. Kris was always small, muscled, but not delicate. He loved Kris’s body, underlying strength under that soft skin. But he looked tiny. When Kris lifted his face and wiped at the tears, Adam noticed the bags and dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look on his face. Adam’s heart hurt.
But as he stood there, just mere inches away from him, feeling Kris’s erratic heartbeat as if it was his own, Adam knew he made the right decision. He would do anything to have him in his life again. As long as Kris promised not to disappear again, to stay in his life, Adam could and would forgive anything and everything.
Adam’s blood surged with heat when Kris leaned his head onto his shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” Kris whispered. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m where I need to be. Where I want to be.”
Adam pulled out a silver and black paperweight from his coat pocket and held it between them. Kris lifted his head, looking at what he was holding, in surprise.
“You…you actually kept it?”
“To me, this was the only thing I had, my only piece of you,” Adam explained. “I realized what it was a few days after I opened the box. I didn’t want to return it to the museum, or turn it over to the proper authorities. A part of me thought I should, but I couldn’t. I didn’t need to be a hero. I needed you.”
Adam slipped it back into his pocket and tilted Kris’s face up, seeing his bloodshot eyes. “Once that decision was made, I knew I had to find you. Find you for me.”
Kris lowered his eyes, “I’m sorry.”
Adam cupped Kris’s face carefully. He wiped the small stream of tears with his thumbs and placed his forehead onto Kris’s, breathing him in.
“Don’t run away from me again. Please.” Adam murmured. “It hurt so much.” He shifted his hands to stroke Kris’s neck while he pressed down light kisses to the wet trails the tears left behind on his cheek. “I can deal with everything else, the past, the mistakes, the fights, the misunderstandings. But I can’t…I can’t do this again. I think if you left me again, it would actually kill me. On every level.”
Adam felt Kris’s arms wrap around his waist. Sighing with relief, he pulled Kris in tight.
“Can you promise me that? Can you promise that you’ll at least say good-bye?”
**
One Year Later
North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii
Kris looked out at the baby waves of low tide crashing onto the sandy beach; their giant older brothers having taken the evening off after an afternoon of crushing surfers’ dreams. He was leaning against the smooth white rail of the veranda, as the full moon cast a bright glow around the jetty of rocks and cluster of palm trees that bordered the house.
The sounds of music, laughter and glasses clinking in toasts filled the house. He tugged at his collar, trying to loosen the tie without actually taking it off. It was a balmy October night, warm and welcoming, no place for suits. But, Adam would kill him. And as he thought the name, a pair of warm arms hugged him from behind, a light kiss at the tip of his ear. Kris smiled.
“What are you doing out here?”
Kris moved back into Adam’s chest, “Just getting some air. Didn’t realize Sylvia knew this many people on the island.”
“It’s her 50th wedding anniversary, you expected her to go half-assed with the party? Plus, I think most of the guests are friends of her son since he’s the one that actually lives here. And, I think she’s capable of killing him if he didn’t go big.”
Laughing, Kris said, “True, but I also didn’t expect a formal gathering with cocktail dresses and suits, especially in Hawaii.” Kris tugged at his collar again.
“Aww, let your boss have her fun.” Adam covered Kris’s hands and lowered them to the waist. “Stop that.”
“Not complaining, just making a statement.”
Adam squeezed him, tangling their arms together, “Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Kris wriggled and turned his body, “I should start saying my good-byes now then, I guess.”
Adam smirked, “Glad you finally got into the habit of doing that.”
“Got yelled at by someone for not doing it on a regular basis.”
“I should thank that person.”
Kris wound his arms around Adam’s neck, “Nah, don’t bother. He’s kind of an ass. I don’t think he’d appreciate it. I sort of put him through a lot of shit, so he’s sensitive about it, but I’ll pass along the message though.”
“Are you sure?” Adam asked, nuzzling Kris’s neck.
“I don’t mind, actually.”
“No?”
“No,” Kris answered. He used his hands to tug Adam’s head up and kissed his chin as Adam lowered his face, their lips touching. “He got me to stop running. I kind of love him for that.”
“So you love this person?”
“I make sure I kiss him good-bye every day.”
~~the end~~
**the song is "Daydreamer" by Adele**