40 Souls to Keep - 6. Chapter 6

Lucas floored the accelerator as soon as they jumped in, and the passenger door banged shut, barely missing Jase’s foot.

“Easy,” Jase said, fumbling for his seat belt.

Lucas ignored him but risked taking his eyes off the road to glance at Macy. “You okay, honey?”

She leaned over the console to lay her head against his arm, and he released a breath. At least she’d responded.

The Jetta took the final turn out of the circle too fast, and the tires scraped the curb. Lucas overcorrected, and they trampled a bed of flowers planted into the shape of two clasped hands.

Jase twisted to look behind them as they reached the straightaway that led to the highway. “Where’d you get your license?”

“Think you can do better?” Lucas shot back.

They raced up the long drive. At Immokalee Road, Lucas made a sharp right, heading west toward the city. When they were less in danger of careening off the road, he tucked a possessive arm around Macy. Silly and not terribly effective, maybe, but it pulled her a few inches away from Jase and closer to himself. The previous twenty minutes aside, could he really trust this guy? Lucas still had no idea who he was or where he’d come from, though Jase hadn’t hesitated to jump in when Lucas needed help. Also on the plus side: Macy was safe, and Lucas had to grudgingly admit he had Jase to thank for that.

They drove without speaking, although Jase’s fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on his thigh. Lucas left well enough alone. Mind whirling, he kept the Jetta at 55 mph exactly, drove in the right-hand lane and tried not to pee himself when four police cruisers, lights spinning and sirens blaring, shot by on the other side of the divided road.

Beside him, Jase breathed a relieved sigh.

Lucas felt his hackles rise. “On the run from the law?” he drawled.

A set of approaching headlights gave Lucas a glimpse of Jase’s wry smile. “Nope.”

That was it? No nervous babbling or obvious change of topic? Lucas was chewing the inside of his cheek, debating on how to proceed, when Jase spoke up again.

“I’m not going to hurt her. That’s not why I’m here.”

Which he’d proven at least once already. Maybe more, for all Lucas knew. How Jase had gotten Macy safely to the main entrance mystified him, not that he wasn’t grateful. It hadn’t been his smartest move, leaving Macy to a stranger’s care—a questionable stranger at that—but there was no way he could’ve left Melissa and Nurse Barbie until he was sure they weren’t hurt or being held hostage.

On a hunch, he’d run for the breakroom, where he and Melissa had filled out that first police report so long ago. The door was shut and locked. Lucas pounded on it. “I’ve called the police!” Melissa shouted from within. “And I’ve got a gun.”

Melissa and a gun. His mind struggled to put the two together and failed. She was staunchly anti-firearm. Now a syringe full of poison...that he could imagine. She’d smile while poking you too.

“It’s Lucas,” he shouted. “Are you all right?”

“Yes! Hold on. I’ll unlock the door.”

“No.” Lucas scanned the area around him. It was dark enough to hold an army of Huns without anyone the wiser. “Don’t. Just stay put until the police get here.”

“Where’s Macy?” Melissa’s voice was muffled.

Um... “Safe,” Lucas said. “What about the admitting nurse?”

“In here with me.”

Lucas put his back to the door while he scanned the shadows. “I have to get to Macy.”

“Be careful, Lucas.”

He’d be damned if that didn’t sound like goodbye.

“Always,” he said, then turned to cut down a side hall to the employee parking lot. By the time he’d fired up the Jetta and pulled it up the ramp to the main entrance, the shakes had taken over. He’d deny it if asked, but he’d nearly plowed both Jase and Macy over because he could barely grip the steering wheel.

“Why are you running from the police?” Jase asked now, breaking the silence.

He wasn’t. Not really. “I don’t know,” Lucas admitted. “I’m not running from them. I just didn’t want to get cornered at that place. It wasn’t safe.”

Very rational. Way to sound paranoid, Lucas.

“Okay,” Jase said. “So we’re headed for where...the police station?”

Lucas twisted his hands on the steering wheel.

“Could we go somewhere and talk first?” Jase asked, tone even.

Lucas swiped a hand over his face. “Your pickup lines could use some work.”

Here was where most hetero men got all red in the face and grabbed at the first subject that came to mind. Beer and football held the top two spots, respectively. Instead, Jase glanced down at Macy before saying, “I thought it was a pretty good effort, considering I had to keep it G-rated.”

Lucas’s hands jerked, and the car swerved. Straightening it out, he reclaimed his arm from Macy’s shoulder and drew a deep breath. This was a two-hands-on-the-steering-wheel conversation. “She has to sleep sometime.”

Jase laughed, shaking his head. “Are we having the conversation I think we’re having?”

“Pleading the Fifth,” Lucas muttered as he swung into a Circle K, even though he loathed to end the conversation. What was a little inappropriate flirting after a near-death experience? All the cool kids were doing it.

“Why are we stopping?” Jase craned his neck, inspecting the tiny convenience store.

“I’m stopping to get something for Macy. And to consider your request.”

Jase waited until Lucas had pocketed the keys before answering. “Thank you.”

The guy did quiet and sincere like a pro. Lucas almost wished for the old Jase back. Some of that creepiness factor might nip this untimely crush of his in the bud.

“Yeah,” Lucas mumbled, climbing out of the car. “You want anything?” he asked. He ducked his head back inside, finding Jase massaging his temples and Macy curled up against him. “You got a headache? How about some Tylenol?”

Jase blinked, then smiled. “Thanks, Lucas.” The smile transformed Jase’s whole face, etching something warm and inviting over the haunted lines of his eyes.

“No problem,” Lucas chirped, fleeing toward the store. “See, it was like this, Your Honor,” he said under his breath as he walked through the door. “He smiled at me, and I folded like a cheap suit.”

Lucas slipped inside behind a gaggle of teenaged girls, blinking against the blinding light. The night had turned cooler, but it obviously wasn’t arctic enough for the store owners. The air-conditioning was cranking along at max. Striving to avoid anything with too much processed sugar, Lucas grabbed a small plastic container of cubed watermelon and a chewy granola bar before detouring to the coolers for a grape-flavored vitamin water. He dumped his booty on the counter, adding a travel packet of extra-strength Tylenol from the spinning rack next to the lottery machine. “What flavor Slushees you got tonight?” he asked the gal behind
the counter as he pulled out his wallet.

She popped her gum in his face. Charming. “Pepsi and cherry.”

Figures. Lucas made a face. “No mango?”

He might as well have asked her why human flesh wasn’t on the menu. With a sour expression, she rang up the purchases. “You like the mango? What, are you gay?”

“Hey.” He slapped the money on the counter. “My mom likes mango.”

She twisted the gum around her finger before reaching for the money. “Is she gay?”

“Keep the change.” He grabbed his stuff and took off before she could paw it with her bubblegum-sticky fingers.

Back in the Jetta, he handed the Tylenol to Jase, then cursed. “I didn’t get you anything to wash it down with.”

“Don’t need anything.” He jerked his head at the watermelon and granola bar. “Will she eat that?”

Probably not, but it was worth a try. “I have no idea when her last meal was. It can only help, if we can convince her to eat. And she absolutely needs the fluids.” He uncapped the vitamin water, took Macy’s hand and curled her fingers around it. “Got it, honey?”

She nodded, then, almost as in afterthought, lifted it to her lips and sipped. Jase arched a brow. “I think she’s humoring you.”

Lucas shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

He pulled back onto the road. In the distance, the lights of Naples glittered. A line of high-rises stretched out in front of them, marking the shoreline.

“So?” Jase asked. His face was back to its usual frown.

“So,” Lucas echoed. Before he could stammer something else, his cell phone rang. Across the seat, Jase tensed. It wasn’t too shocking a response, considering, but it put Lucas on edge. Whether or not he could trust Jase was something he needed to resolve soon, before he dug himself any deeper with his head or his heart.

He pulled the phone out and squinted at the display screen. “Huh.”

“Somebody you know?”

Lucas silenced the ringer. “Maybe. But nobody I know well enough that they’re in my contact list.” He tossed the phone on the dash. “My spidey senses are telling me it’s one of the detectives working Macy’s case.” Detective Swift of the loose pants was his guess.

“Then you should answer it.”

It was as though his conscience had jumped outside his body and was lounging in the passenger seat of the Jetta. “Let’s see if they leave a message.” They glided to a stop at the intersection of Immokalee and Route 41. After waffling briefly, Lucas turned left onto the Trail and headed south into Naples proper, keeping the beach and its towering luxury hotels at his right. “Before I do that, though...you wanted to talk.” Lucas shrugged a shoulder. “I figure you’ve earned it.”

It took Jase an eternity to answer. “That’s very open minded of you.”

Too funny. “I’m an open-minded kind of guy. Didn’t you get the memo?”

That earned him another fond, amused smirk, and weren’t those getting a bit too addictive. Lucas returned something approximating a wobbly smile and swept his sweaty palms against his pants. At this rate, he’d be cracking bad jokes all night. Pathetic.

Traffic increased on the Trail as they moved south. Newer buildings gave way to older ones. The trees on the traffic medians grew taller, but not as well maintained. The people in Naples followed the same pattern: the longtime natives had put roots down in the older part of the city—if fifty years counted as older—choosing character over novelty, while the younger upstarts chose the bright and shiny of new construction. But all that changed where the Tamiami Trail turned away from the coast and beat a path inland. There, in that tiny triangle of land where the original city had sprung from the soil—okay, swamp—was where you found the real money. Shopping that would put Rodeo Drive to shame and a residential district worthy of a queen.

It was, in fact, called Port Royal, which never failed to make Lucas laugh, because not a single soul out there could claim royal blood. Though most were royal pains in the ass and pretentious enough to make Lucas’s eyes cross. They said money couldn’t buy class, but it surely could buy something kind of like it. No housing crisis there, no sir. You needed to apply to the neighborhood board before you could house hunt.

He drove south to Third Street, then got in the single right-hand lane that led to Old Naples. The four left lanes veered inland, funneling most of the undesirables away. Only the Jetta risked making the turn when the light went green, gliding onto the perfectly smooth pavement of Third Street and under the tasteful arched sign that spanned the road: Welcome to Old Naples.

He drove up and down the streets of gold, humming, going no faster than thirty-five. “Five-dollar tour,” he said to Jase. “We should be good until someone realizes there’s a ten-year-old Volkswagen cruising the streets.”

“What happens then?”

“I’ve heard stories. None of them pretty.”

Jase laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his seat. The move jostled Macy, but she didn’t stir. “So this is what five dollars gets me?” Jase asked, staring out his window. “Not bad.”

“And you thought you couldn’t afford me.”

“And now I know I can.” Jase rolled down his window, letting in the humid air. It ruffled his hair and carried his scent to Lucas, who risked a deep, discreet inhale. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Martinez that smells got to him, and not always in a nausea-inducing way. This one chased off his witty reply and made his mouth go dry.

Macy finally succumbed to sleep somewhere between First and Third Avenue South—or between Gucci and Tommy Bahama, to be more exact.Jase laid a gentle hand on her forehead, then smoothed her hair away from her face. “She’s out.”

And should be for a while, unless disturbed. Lucas hoped he could give her at least an hour. Nodding, he swung the Jetta into the parking lot of the Fifth Third Bank and eased around to the side, mostly out of sight of the street, and killed the engine.

“Finally,” Lucas said quietly. “Much more of that and we would’ve been pulled over for sure, even if they aren’t looking for me.”

“But you’re pretty sure they are,” Jase whispered.

Lucas frowned at him in the dark. Time to stop dancing around the subject. He jerked his head at the door, then hovered like a mother hen while Jase settled Macy comfortably into the bucket seat and tucked Lucas’s blanket around her. They shut their doors at the same time, easing them closed. A moment later, the car’s interior lights went out, leaving the fussy-looking gas lamp replicas and the pale half-moon as the only illumination. Lucas leaned against the car, folding his arms over the hood. “Okay. Talk.”

“Lucas...” Jase adopted a similar pose, then dropped his head onto his arms.

Lucas heard the frustration. Yeah, he knew this wasn’t the optimal venue for a heart-to-heart. For one, Lucas couldn’t even see Jase clearly, and it was his habit to study nonverbal clues. But getting any closer to the man at the moment felt just as threatening as what had happened at NSUC—for more than one reason. He let the silence stretch, and finally Jase sighed.

“Let me ask you a question first,” he said.

Lucas rolled his tongue around his mouth. “Shoot.”

That earned him a sharp look. “Are you religious?”

“No,” Lucas answered. “Agnostic. And a Gemini. I love fishing, watching Star Trek reruns and am a registered Democrat. Interested? You can get my full profile for a small one-time fee of $29.99.”

Another smile. Damn. He was on a roll tonight.

Jase’s bright eyes cut through the dark. “I’m agnostic too.”

“Well, there you go,” Lucas cried. “Our love was meant to be! Let me take you away from all of this, baby. I’ve got a two-bedroom bungalow that’s fifteen percent paid for. I bet you would love to call it home.”

That last had struck a chord, and not a good one. Jase’s expression blanked. “Can we—” He looked around the parking lot. “Can we go over there?”

Over there was an adorable wrought-iron park bench, tucked under the eaves of the building. Lucas looked between it and the car, judging the distance. Maybe thirty feet. “Okay.”

The bench was one of those ergonomically correct things, curving out around Lucas’s lower back. The seat dipped in the middle. In loving memory of Clancy Sommer a brass plaque announced. “Some legacy, Clancy,” Lucas said.

Jase sat slowly, keeping a respectable amount of distance between them. Yet another inappropriate remark flew to Lucas’s lips, something about cuddling, but this one he didn’t voice.

“I only asked you that question because I’ve told this story a few times before, and it never goes over well if the other person has strong religious leanings.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Why?”

Jase’s nervousness filled the space between them. “Some of it is fantastic and unexplainable.”

But isn’t that the hallmark of religious faith? Lucas swallowed that remark too. “Okay, I’ll play. I was raised Catholic but haven’t been to church since Father Al threw me out of Confirmation class. So I think we’re safe.”

Another one of those pregnant pauses. “Why did he throw you out?”

“A story for another time.” Because it was funny and might make Jase smile. No sense wasting that over what was shaping up to be one screwed-up conversation.

Jase pulled in a ragged breath. “Okay.”

And yet not, obviously, because the silence continued. Lucas waited two minutes before asking, “What’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Jase said, pensive, “is that most people don’t react well to what I’m about to tell you, and...I don’t want to lose you as an ally. It’s too important to me. Macy is too important.”

Lucas softened at his words. “I’m not most people.” It seemed the thing to say, and was mostly true.

“No, Lucas,” Jase said, wry twist to his lips, “you are definitely not most people.”

“Glad we cleared that up. So spill.” Not that Lucas was any more eager to listen than Jase was to tell—this had the potential to be a turning point between them, and not a good one—but the longer they sat in the bank’s parking lot, the more uneasy he grew.

Jase bent forward over his knees. “Seven years ago, I found out...that I have the power to heal.”

The urge to crack a joke made his jaw ache. Not trusting himself to open his mouth, Lucas nodded.

Jase wrinkled his brow at the lack of reaction. “So every once in a while—the pattern is totally random—I get a feeling, I guess you could call it. Sometimes I see a person in my head. Sometimes all I know is their name. But the one thing that doesn’t change, that never changes, is that I get a strong, undeniable compulsion to help them.” He paused to take a breath, then glanced at Lucas from the corner of his eye.

Lucas wondered how long he could get away with nodding. Maybe forever, judging by the way Jase seemed to accept it as a response. Now he understood the religion question a bit better. This healing business would definitely strike a nerve. “How does this relate to Macy?”

Jase pursed his lips. “I’m here to heal her.” He dipped his head, rubbing his palms together where they hung between his knees. “It’s never the same, the dream, but in this one, I woke seeing Macy’s face in my head.”

“How did you know where to find her?”

“I can always find them. I can track who I’m meant to help."

Like a wolf scenting prey. Lucas spent a fair amount of time deciding on his next question. “Is she sick?”

“No.” Which should have made any reasonable person cheer, but it troubled Jase, if his pinched expression was any measure.

“How do you know?”

Jase met his eyes for the first time since they’d started their heart-to-heart. “Oh, I knew as soon as I touched her. She’s not sick.”

Handy trick. Bet it went over like gangbusters at the retirement homes. “So,” Lucas said, drawing the word out, “if she’s not sick...”

“She must be in danger.”

The door Lucas had closed on his trite wit blew right off the hinges. “Really? You think?” he barked.

Something besides sadness finally made an appearance in Jase’s eyes. They flashed as he answered. “The fact that I’m here means she’s going to get hurt. Badly. Mortally. And when she does, I need to be there to heal her.”

Like hell. Fuming, Lucas leaned across the bench, placing their faces inches apart. It was the closest they’d been to each other yet. “That’s never going to happen. Not on my watch.”

The anger bled out of Jase’s expression. “You can’t stop this, Lucas.”

“I can do anything I want to. My mother always said so.” He stomped off toward the car, Jase scrambling to catch up.

“Do you see now why I need to stay close to her?” He grabbed Lucas by the elbow, and Lucas reacted without thinking, swiveling to twist Jase’s hand behind him. They stood locked together in the center of the parking lot.

Lucas’s chest heaved. “I don’t—shit!” He threw Jase away from him. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

The statement didn’t appear to anger Jase. In fact, he smiled. “But you’re willing to try?”

If that was enough to make him happy, the guy had some serious issues. “I’m willing to try,” Lucas said. His cell phone beeped with an incoming text message, and he sidled a few feet away to check it. The text matched the number that had tried to call earlier. “Oh, this should be fun,” Lucas muttered as he tapped Read now on the touch screen.

where the hell r u? kid better b ok or ur ass is mine. G Swift.

Really? He’d given G Swift a pass before, but now there was no resisting. Nursing a smile, Lucas typed back kid is fine and so is my ass. And because he valued his balls, added will call soon.

“Who is it from?” Jase had circled around to the passenger side of the Jetta.

“My BFF Gary.” Lucas hit Send and slipped the phone into his pocket. He stared at Jase over the top of the car. “What am I supposed to do with you, Jase? How do I explain why you’re here?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Jase said. “Trust me.”

What was it about people that made them throw those two words around like they meant nothing? “Sorry. Not good enough.” To Jase’s obvious exasperation, he said, “Will you put yourself in my shoes for a minute, please? Mystical powers aside, how do you think the police are going to look at a complete stranger hanging around their only witness to a double murder?”

Although Jase paused, Lucas didn’t get the impression it was to mull over his question. “Okay,” Jase said, sounding defeated. “Let me convince you.”

Not what he’d expected to hear, but it worked. “That would be good,” Lucas said. “How?”

Jase put his hand on the door handle. “Is there a fast food joint around here?”

Lucas hit the unlock button on his keys. “Now you’re hungry?” He shook his head. “Around here? No. We’d have to head back to where the common folk live if you want a burger and fries.”

“We should keep moving anyway,” Jase said. He ducked his head to look at Macy. “Do you think it’s safe to put her in the back?”

Responsible, definitely. But he couldn’t shake the desire to keep her close. Like in his lap, close.

“Yeah, hang on.” Lucas circled to the back of the car and popped the trunk. When Jase joined him, he dumped a box of diapers in his arms. “Hold that while I dig out a booster seat.” He added a case of baby formula concentrate to Jase’s burden.

“Dare I ask?” Jase peered around the Pampers.

“I’m not ashamed.” Lucas unearthed the booster and straightened. “So I’ve got a baby fetish. At least I don’t gamble.”

“The lesser of two vices,” Jase agreed. “No, seriously. What’s with the Toys “R” Us on wheels?”

Lucas grabbed a small pair of purple flip-flops and eased the trunk shut. “Part of my job. I’m with Child Protective Services.”

Realization dawned in Jase’s eyes. “That’s why you were with Macy at the hospital.”

“Right.” Lucas opened the back door and settled the booster seat inside, then fastened the tethers. “Okay, let’s try to move her.”

Macy curled her arms obediently around Lucas’s neck when he coaxed her awake. “How’re you doing, sweetie?” he asked, holding her close for a moment.

“Okay.” Some of the sleepiness left her when he set her in the backseat. She arched her eyebrows at the booster seat, looking eighteen instead of seven. “I’m not a baby,” she said with perfect Mary Antoinette inflection.

“I know,” Lucas cajoled. “But there’s no way you weigh eighty pounds.” More like forty. “It’s the law. And it is safer.”

That word again. It had the same effect as before. With a small sigh, Macy scooted onto the booster seat.

“Thank you,” Lucas whispered as he fastened the shoulder belt and handed her the purple flip-flops. “See if you can fit those on over your socks.”

He dialed Swift’s number as they wound their way out of Old Naples, hit Send, then held the phone a few inches away from his ear. Jase cocked his head, and Lucas winked.

Swift answered on the first ring. “Where the fuck are you? Where’s the kid?” he bellowed. Even Macy jumped.

“She’s safe,” hedged Lucas. “And so am I. Thanks for asking. Is everyone okay up at NSUC?”

Swift pulled in an unsteady breath. “Jesus. I’m trying to give you a break here, Jacobson, but you’re not giving me much to work with. What the hell happened?”

Lucas swallowed a surge of defensiveness. Now wasn’t the time to question his instincts. “I was trying to protect Macy.”

“You were— Get your ass to the station on Seventh Avenue. You’ve got fifteen minutes or my next call is to your boss.” The call disconnected, and Lucas imagined Swift bemoaning his inability to end a cell phone conversation with anything but a whisper-soft beep.

Reclined against his door—hadn’t anybody ever told him that wasn’t safe?—Jase turned those soulful eyes on him. “Your BFF Gary?”

“Yeah.” Lucas tossed the phone in the cup holder and hit the lock button on Jase’s door. “Don’t judge. He’s having a bad day.” And it was completely within Swift’s rights to call Connie. Lucas hadn’t exactly been following protocol.

He kept his eyes on the road and off Jase. One glance at the casually draped arms and spread legs had been enough. And those damn eyes. Bottom line, the physical package was turning him on. The guy was good with Macy and had displayed his fair share of bravery. It was the Jesus complex where it all began to fall apart. He wanted to believe Jase—he simply couldn’t. Or he didn’t yet. And this fixation on Macy...it scared him. All in all, things weren’t looking promising for a long night of post-crisis sex, so he needed to get over the idea. Like right now.

“You okay?” Jase asked.

Lucas straightened out of his slouch. “Just being emo.”

“You’re hardly that.”

Lucas accelerated through a yellow light. “Sure am. I actually own two pairs of skinny jeans and pen poetry in my off hours.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding about the skinny jeans.”

“I think I’ll let you wonder. Hey, you’re in luck.”

“Oh?” Jase asked, giving the word more breath than sound.

Lucas suppressed a groan. “Yep. There’s a twenty-four-hour Burger King two blocks before the station. Can you show me your superpowers if we use the drive through?” His tone carried too little humor and too much hysteria. He couldn’t face Swift feeling like this. Maybe a chocolate shake was the ticket. Grab a little serotonin high before the inquisition.

Jase had winced at the question. Massaging his forehead, he nodded. “Yes. The drive-through’s fine.”

“Peachy.”

Lucas guided the Jetta through the complex pattern of traffic lights and cloverleafs that marked the edge of Old Naples and turned north on the Trail. The lack of traffic made him twitchy. He’d expected empty streets in the old part of the city. It was nothing more than a glorified shopping mall—totally dead after the restaurants closed at 11 p.m. But they were back where the real people lived now, the beach three blocks away. Yet there were only a few cars moving in either direction.

Naples wasn’t Miami. In fact, it pretty much prided itself on being the polar opposite. Less glitz, more golf. Fewer movie theaters, more bookstores. The sorts of quiet, pretentious pursuits that sent people to bed early, apparently. Ten years on the Gold Coast and Lucas could count on one hand the number of times he’d been on the road after midnight.

He drove slowly, not eager to reach Seventh Avenue North. Through it all, Jase remained silent, and Lucas left him to it. He was having enough trouble keeping himself balanced and functioning. No need to open a line of dialog that might turn uncomfortable. He ran the left-turn red light and bounced into the parking lot of the Burger King. “Okay. What do I do?”

Intent on the pimply-faced kid staring at him from the order window, he yelped when Jase touched his arm.

“Easy,” Jase said. He pointed. “Just go order what you want.”

Lucas grimaced. He couldn’t have eaten right then if his life depended on it. Luckily, Macy piped up from the backseat. “Chicken tenders meal, please. With a girl toy.”

Jase lifted his hand toward the window, urging Lucas on.

“Do you know how much fat are in those meals?” Lucas grumbled, reaching for his wallet. He flipped it open, turning it toward the dashboard lights to see inside. Did he have enough for a kid’s meal and a shake? Because his chocolate craving had reached critical mass. It might even trump Macy’s desire for mystery meat nuggets.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jase said, touching him again. He folded Lucas’s wallet and closed his fingers around it. “Just trust me.”

“With lots of ketchup,” Macy added.

Trust me, with lots of ketchup. “Sure, okay,” Lucas said, gaze on how Jase’s thumb was stroking over his knuckles. “Stop that,” he said thickly.

Jase removed his hand without comment, and Lucas pulled up to the window, wooden smile pasted in place. He clutched his shaking hands to the wheel. “How’re you doing tonight?” he asked the kid.

“Good,” the kid said after a moment. Judging by the slack-jawed expression, he didn’t get that question much. “Thought you were going to sit there all night.”

“Nah. Just working out our order. I’ll take a kid’s chicken meal and a large chocolate shake.”

“Drink with the meal?”

Lucas blinked, lost, until Macy piped up, “Sprite!”

“Sauce with the chicken?”

“Ketchup,” she called.

“Do you want a girl toy or a boy toy, man?”

“For a girl,” Jase said, finally speaking. “Thanks for being so efficient.”

The kid beamed. “No problem.”

Leaning forward until he was practically nestled in Lucas’s lap, Jase said, “I feel terrible about this, but I forgot my wallet at home. I won’t be able to pay for the order. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Lucas blinked. Jase’s words were at complete odds with his tone, the sweetness so false that Lucas looked to the drive-through kid with alarm. He’d have to be deaf to miss the obvious lie.

The kid waved him off with a grin. “No big deal. It’s on the house tonight.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” demurely lying Jase said.

“Please. It’s my pleasure.” The kid handed over the bag and cups. “Sure I can’t throw something else in there for you?”

It had been ages since dinner. Lucas opened his mouth, but Jase cut him off, both with a “No, thanks” and a wandering hand that crept onto Lucas’s knee. All thoughts of French fries flew from Lucas’s head. Talk about playing unfairly. He stabbed the straw into his shake and sucked for all he was worth. The ice cream headache cooled the untimely rush of heat between his legs.

“Hey,” he said as they circled behind the building. A glance in the side mirror showed the kid leaning halfway out the service window to wave goodbye. “My annual review’s in two weeks. Wanna come?” After tonight, he was going to need all the help he could get.

He’d been expecting another smile, and Jase’s icy expression threw him off. “It isn’t a joke, Lucas.” He poked Macy’s straw into her Sprite and handed it back. She took it and began to slurp. “I don’t take advantage.”

Lucas snorted chocolate shake up his nose. “Then what was that?”

“That,” Jase said, his voice cold enough to freeze Lucas’s blood, “was me giving you the parlor trick you wanted.”

Okay, he’d asked for that.

It was a short two blocks to the station, and Lucas drove like a turtle, slurping on his shake. So much for displaying that incredible empathy he was famous for. But to have such power. The things he could do. He flashed to the pain in Jase’s eyes and the ice in his voice. “Sorry,” he said as he turned into the precinct parking lot. “That was a shitty thing to say. It’s just...I’m having a hard time with all of this.”

“Do you believe it yet?”

He was in the conditional stage of belief, where he wanted to, but his brain was still calling him a fool. “Working on it.” He stewed for another minute. "How come you haven't done that to me?"

"I tried." Jase wouldn't meet his eyes, just stared out the window. "It doesn't work on you."

"It doesn't?" Curious. But also satisfying. "Does that happen a lot?"

"Never." Jase faced him finally, eyes glittering off and on as they passed through haloes of streetlights. "It never happens."

The precinct parking lot was surprisingly full for nearly three in the morning. Lucas crept up the row of cars, passing visitor parking and a long row of black-and-whites before easing into a spot near the back of the building. They’d left the streetlamps far behind.

Lucas turned off the car, then fumbled in the dark for the last of his milkshake.

“I’m scared,” Macy said, her first words since accepting her food. Not scared enough to lose her appetite. Her bag crinkled as she reached inside to grab another handful of fries. Lucas threw a pleading look Jase’s way. Even though little could have been communicated in the dark, Jase took the hint.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “The worst is over.”

Whoa. Even Lucas didn’t taunt karma like that. But since Macy settled back in her seat and munched like a rabbit, he chose to let it go. “So, what’s the plan here?” he asked as the engine ticked.

“Don’t worry about me, Lucas. Just do what you’d normally do, and I’ll take care of myself.”

That sounded like a bit too much improvisation. “But—”

“Lucas.” Was that a hint of exasperation in Jase’s voice? “Trust me.”

Back to that. Only it was easier to swallow than it had been before. Lucas slipped his cell phone into one pocket, his keys into the other, and circled around to get Macy. “You heard the man,” he muttered to himself as he unlocked her door. “The worst is over.”