Your son for Mine

chapter 23

Mario leaned back into his sofa and propped his beer on his knee. He hadn't wanted to cook, so he'd ordered a pizza and figured he'd eat it and watch the game. It had almost become a routine. It had been nearly four months since that night with Leby. The FBI had swarmed in, and before he could do anything, Lucas was carried away, and Mario was plopped into an SUV and taken to an office and questioned for hours. Mario had headed to the hospital as soon as they let him go, but Lucas was gone. His parents had him transferred to a private facility to avoid the press, where he could recover in peace.

Mario had called and left messages, and texts. None had been returned. He had taken a couple of weeks off, and when he went back, he'd taken mainly assignments working out of the office, coordinating jobs, and consulting over the phone. He knew he wasn't quite ready to head back to the field. He'd even gone to see the therapist. Not uncommon for police officers and war veterans. He had fought in a one-man war and won but that hadn't stopped the nightmares. Nightmares that woke him at night. Nightmares of strangled screams and of Lucas hanging from the rafters because he had been too late. They had lessened somewhat over the weeks, but even as recently as two nights ago, he'd woken drenched in a cold sweat unable to return to bed.

Letting out a long sigh, he swiped at the condensation dripping down the beer bottle with his thumb. The doorbell rang, and he leaned over and grabbed his wallet before he hoisted himself up and headed to greet the pizza guy.

He opened the door and sucked in a rough breath. It wasn't the pizza guy.

"lucas."

"Hi, Mario." He looked good. He sounded good. His voice seemed to have recovered from any damage the rope might have caused. The bruising on his face had vanished, and he looked the same except for his nose, which had a small bump right in the middle of it. Mario's heart thumped wildly, and he fought off the urge to bend over to kiss that bump and then those lips. Lucas hadn't called him back. That was enough of a sign for him to realize that the feelings that had caught him so off guard were one-sided. That last kiss, and everyone before it, had been adrenaline-fueled. He'd come to accept that fact. Adrenaline faded, but unfortunately, Mario's feelings didn't. He looked down and saw his grey USMC hoodie folded neatly under Lucas's arm, and his heart sank.

"Can I come in?" Lucas's voice was soft as he looked up at Mario through those dark bangs.

"Yes, of course, sorry... I thought you were the pizza guy." Mario opened the door and stood back to let him pass.

No, I should have called first, but didn't want this conversation to be over the phone."

"Um, all right. Have a seat. Do you want a beer or something to drink?"

"No, no thank you. I don't know how long I'll be staying."

Mario dropped his gaze to the floor. Dread flooded through him and mentally he threw up every wall he could. He didn't want to have this conversation. He was happily miserable living with the small hope that one day Lucas might come back to him. Not like he was ever his, to begin with. He looked at Lucas and tried unsuccessfully to smile, knowing that he had to accept whatever it was the man had to say. He had to accept it and let that minuscule speck of hope inside him die. He owed Lucas that much. Finally, he took a deep breath and closed the door.

The doorbell rang.
Goddamnit.

He threw the door open with a little too much force, not hearing what the man said, just shoving a twenty in his hand and grabbing the pizza. He grunted a thank you and closed the door.

"Want any pizza?

"No thanks, Mario. I'm fine really. I need to say some things and then I can let you get on with your evening. Um, I brought your sweatshirt back. Thank you for letting me use it." Lucas pointed at the sweatshirt he'd placed on the coffee table. He was sitting with his back straight and had started fidgeting with his hands.

Mario's feet were heavy as he walked to the kitchen table and tossed down the box before steeling himself and heading back to the living room. He took a seat in the armchair across from where Lucas was on the sofa. He scrubbed his hands over his
face and rubbed the back of his neck before resting his elbows on his knees. Then he raised his head to look at the handsome man sitting across from him.

"Okay. What do you want to talk about, lucas?"

"I just wanted to thank you. Thank you for everything you did. You saved my life that day."

"I ended Abraham Leby life, lucas. You saved your own when you activated that tracker." Mario looked back down at his hands. There were so many other things that he wanted to talk about. Leby was not among them.

The tracker that you gave me..." Lucas's voice was soft, and he had turned his head and looked out the window. The sun was starting to set, and Lucas's face was glowing in the orange light. God, he is beautiful.

"lucas, you don't need to thank me."

"Did you get the check from my parents?"

"Yes, lucas." The Dupont had sent a check covering his fees to the office. Another check totaling more than three times his annual salary had arrived at his home. That check remained in a drawer in his desk.

"But you didn't cash it?" Lucas was looking at him, his head cocked to the side, questioning.

"I didn't want the money, lucas. It wasn't about the money." There was an edge to his voice he hadn't meant to be there.

Lucas took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He looked like he was trying to calm himself, or working out the right words to say. Mario waited in silence.

Then Lucas started talking.

"It's been a long four months, Mario." Lucas paused, but Mario didn't think he was looking for him to fill the quiet. So he waited.

After the FBI came, I was caught in a bit of a whirlwind. Doctors, agents, my parents... It was just room after room, question after question. I don't remember what I said to them. They said I was in shock. I tend to agree." Lucas exhaled in a sigh. "My parents showed up, and a whole new shit storm started. I'm sure you can imagine my mother was not too happy with the FBI. She went up one side of them and down the other. It made my cow cunt speech look like praise." Mario looked over at the man who was looking at his lap and smoothing his hands over his jeans. He thought he could see a hint of a smile on Lucas's mouth.