Page 105 of Fish in a Barrel
Ellery had been afraid that the displaced indigent population would get lost in all of this political intrigue—he’d mentioned his concerns multiple times during his deposition. He’d been reassured that morning when the governor had asked the legislature for emergency funds to house the people who’d been shipped upstate, as well as for an investigation to discover if there were any other “dumping grounds” for people who had been forcibly moved.
God, it was nice when there was another grown-up in the room. Ellery hadn’t even wanted to vote for the guy, but he’d been the closest thing to progressive on the ballot. Now Ellery wanted to tearfully bow at his feet.
And Jackson had gotten a text from Cody Gabriel that morning. That day marked a week from the time Jackson had sat at Gabriel’s side, pulling him from despair to hope, saving his life. He’d confessed to Jackson that rehab was a bitch, but remembering that he was warm, he was fed, he had people watching out for him—that helped. So had Poppy; one of the guys from the flophouse had brought the little dog by now that Gabriel was no longer being sedated.
And Jackson’s stitches were healing nicely—the two days’ sedation and immobilization had helped. This stay in the hospital had felt different to Ellery. Jackson hadn’t fought it quite so much. It was like the feral part of him, the part that had been so afraid to trust in other people, had learned how to curl up and sleep when it needed to.
He’d learned how to heal, to fight another day.
And Ellery wanted him home. Halloween was in two days, and the decorations had arrived in the mail the day before. Ellery had gotten home from visiting Jackson in the hospital and found them on the doorstep and then put them up, feeling some of Jackson’s joy seep into his bones as he did so. Halloween. Who knew it could be so much fun to decorate? He’d stopped by the store on his way home and bought ten pounds of candy, hoping the flickering pumpkin faces and multicolored lights would attract trick-or-treaters on Saturday night and not thrown eggs.
Chicken-and-rice soup simmered in the cooker, and the cats were on the back of the couch, tails and whiskers twitching on alert. They were—all of them—waiting for the one person to return who made the house a home.
As if on cue, Billy Bob leapt fluidly off the couch and hissed, and Lucifer rose to his three feet and fell off the long way, leaving claw marks on the leather back of the couch as he scrabbled for purchase. He landed with a squawk on his back and went tear-assing for the bedroom, where both cats preferred to be when there was company.
Lucifer hit the doorjamb on his way through, spit at it, and finally found his way into the room—probably to jump on the bed and complain about the unfairness of things to his big brother.
Well, cats weren’t always graceful.
Two minutes later, the front door opened, and Henry, arms laden with stuff, gestured Jackson into the house.
Jackson smiled tiredly, looking decidedlynotlike a man who had come straight home from the hospital and napped.
“Sorry we’re late,” he said softly, moving in to kiss Ellery on the cheek. His eyes were doing a wicked little sparkle dance, indicating he knew Ellery was waiting for Henry to leave before he chewed him out. “We stopped for a few things.”
“One minute,” Henry said, running around the kitchen and dining room. There was a rustle of paper and packages, and Ellery tried to look over Jackson’s shoulder to see what he was doing.
“Ignore me,” Henry called. “Pretend I’m invisible. No Henry here.”
“Did you hear that?” Jackson said wryly. “Henry isn’t here.”
Ellery lost his resolve to be irritated and chuckled, seeing where the crinkle of cellophane came from. “Invisible Henry is putting flowers on the table. They’re lovely.”
Jackson grinned. “Right? See? I may have been high, but I remember my responsibilities.”
Ellery stepped into his warmth and let Jackson wrap his arms around him. With the idea that Henry wasn’t there, he closed his eyes and buried his face in Jackson’s neck. “You’ve never forgotten. So should I look at what else isn’t there, or should I just close my eyes and be glad you’re home?”
“The second one,” Jackson murmured, breathing in at his neck like he was filling his lungs with fresh air. “A lot of this was his idea—it’s sort of a gift.”
“Mm.” Ellery nodded, his anxiety about a late Jackson completely overridden by the joy of ahereJackson. Here was always better. “That’s sweet. Can I open my eyes now?”
“One more minute!” Henry said anxiously. “Ooh, soup. Can I have some of that?”
It was on the tip of Ellery’s tongue to say, “It’s dinner!” but then the smell of Jade’s lasagna hit him and he understood. Not just Henry, then. Everybody.
“Sure,” he said softly. “Feel free to fill up a container.”
“Thanks, Ellery! After I’m done with the thing.”
Ellery kept his eyes closed, safe in Jackson’s arms, knowing that if Jackson had any say about it, their bodies would be safe and alive for as long as possible. Their hearts would be safe and bound forever.
“How long is the thing?” Ellery asked, for Jackson’s ears only.
“A heartbeat,” Jackson said. “Two. There seems to have been some protest, you see.”
“Protest?”
“Yeah. While I was in the hospital, my phone kept blowing up. Apparently my proposal was amateur hour at the romance café. My, uhm, friends have insisted on something a little more professionally done.”