Page 17 of Sean's Sunshine

“Yeah, you talk a big game, but do I have to remind you….” He trailed off and looked behind him at the half-empty DVD shelf in the living room.

Sean gave him a narrow-eyed glance and let out a half-decent laugh, proof of his healing lungs. “Touché,” he conceded. “Now can we go to the dog park or something?”

By the end of the first week, Billy’d had to admit even the nice, spacious duplex was stifling. Since exercise was recommended, Billy had been driving Sean to the local park. While it was not officially a “dog park,” a lot of owners took their animals walking, some on leads and some not, and Sean seemed to get a kick out of getting his exercise by walking around one of the soccer fields at the park and then sitting on a bench and saying hello to all the “good boys and good girls” who came to sniff his socks.

Billy, whose old man had never let them have any pets at all, was starting to really enjoy that hour in the park. They had to leave early—September was still barbarically hot during a drought year, even two weeks in—but besides getting to pet the dogs, Billy got to watchSeanpet the dogs, and that was just as fun. He’d apparently never met a big dog he didn’t like. Sure, Sean thought the little ones were okay—and Billy didn’t tell him this, but headoredthe little chi-whozits and terrier-poos and whatever—but the big golden retrievers and pit bulls with the sweet smiles and the giant wiggly bodies made the guy light up inside.

Watching his square-jawed face grow soft and sweet while baby-talking an animal nearly half his body weight was a thing Billy was starting to treasure. There was something verypureabout dogs. All those people on the walk—they didn’t seem to care if Billy was Mexican or both the guys were gay, and none of them knew Sean was a cop. What did they care about? Did these two guys on the bench love theirdogs. That was all. Billy could believe in the world again, with people who loved their dogs.

And it got Sean out and about and exercising without overdoing it. He had to stop in the middle, right? On the good bench with the shade, because that’s where all the dogs came to visit. Win-win!

And then on the way home, Sean usually had him stop at a drive-thru for a soda or something, and although Billy got a diet soda, he had to admit having a treat after they went to the park was like part of his childhood that he hadn’t remembered. His mom had done the going to the park and the treating. As the family had grown, Billy had been more and more in charge of making sure the little kids didn’t kill themselves falling off the playground equipment, and it had become less and less fun forhim. But still that break from the apartment, that moment of knowing the people around him would be happy, and then the stop at the 7-Eleven for something sweet—it was a good moment in a day. And watching Sean practically glow with happiness as he wiped the retriever fur off his T-shirt made it better.

But today Sean was tired. He’d gone an extra lap around the soccer field, and he had to work really hard to keep his breathing even, particularly in air made smoky by recent wildfires. Billy was thinking grimly that getting him out of his low-slung Dodge Charger was going to be atreat. Billy loved the car, personally. Getting a chance to drive the thing in the last weeks had been an unanticipated perk that Billy could definitely live with, but it took a lot of leg strength to stand up from the folded position way down near the ground. He was thinking about saying something to that effect, because he hadn’t yet told Sean that and it would probably be polite, when Sean’s phone rang.

The ringtone was “Born Under a Bad Sign,” and Billy snorted softly when Sean said, “Rivers! Sup?”

He listened for a moment and managed a low whistle. “Seriously? They’re okay, though? Good.” There was another pause, and Billy could hear Sean’s breathing quicken. He was about to grab the phone and tell Rivers to stop yanking his boy’s chain when Sean replied, “No. Not a problem. We can do that. No, I won’t tell the police. Just, you know, keep that kid safe.” Billy caught his sidelong glance. “No, you’re right. They need protection. We’re up. No worries.” He let out a brief bark of laughter. “I’m all right? It took a shiv in the lung for you to decide I’m all right? I’ll have to decide if it was worth it.” Another pause. “Yeah, whatever. We’re fifteen minutes away. We can take care of it. Yeah, fuck off yourself. See you later. Thanks.”

He hit End Call and said, “Billy, you need to turn toward Davis Med Center. You know where it—”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy muttered, not wanting to talk about his own trips to the doc. He’d managed to neatly avoid telling anybody at the flophouse but Lance, and that was because he was a doctor and Billy had needed to ask him some questions.

“Good. We’re going to the ER, so I need you to park in the big open lot right there.”

“I hear you. Who are we going to visit?”

Sean sucked air in through his teeth. “I need you to not panic when you hear this, okay?”

Billy knew his eyes got really big. “The actual hell?”

“Remember how you had to move out of the flophouse because there was a sick guy in Cotton’s bed and you needed to make room?”

“Yeah?” His voice was rising. Heknewhis voice was rising. He couldn’t help it. Cotton was their most vulnerable little soldier; he had eyes like some cartoon forest animal and the big upper lip and… and Billy had just sailed out the door, going, “Gotta go! Got my own sick guy to watch over! You try not to kill yours, I’ll try not to kill mine!”

Cotton had given a tired laugh and waved, and that had been that. Billy had grabbed his backpack with his clothes, laptop, and shaving kit and vamoosed.

“Something happened to Cotton?” he asked. His voice squeaked, but he didn’t care.

“Cotton’s fine,” Sean soothed. “There were people watching the flophouse to make sure the people after Colonel Constant—” He paused. “Cotton’s sick guy,” he explained, and Billy nodded.

“Yeah.” Maybe at any other time, he would have gotten mad because Sean was being condescending or some such bullshit, but he was freaked out enough to appreciate the reminder. “I remember him. The hero.” There had been no question about that. Billy was unclear on the details, but he knew that both Sean and Cotton’s sick guy had been injured pursuing a case that involved getting children out of danger.

“Exactly. Anyway, there were eyes on the apartment, and those guys kept Cotton and Constance from getting hurt, but one ofthemwas hurt. He’s fine, but he’s in the hospital, and I have to go smooth things over and get him out of there before they ask too many questions.”

“Why you?” Billy demanded suspiciously. “Why can’t Rivers or Henry—”

“Because they’re running down a witness for something else,” Sean told him. “You can’t expect the same two guys to save the worldallthe time. If we don’t start helping, they’re not gonna make it.”

“But what about the other guys from the flophouse?” Billy asked. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah. Nobody else was home. But….” Sean sucked air through his teeth, and Billy knew he wasn’t going to like what came next. “There was some damage to the apartment, I gather, and there’s a cleanup crew and shit. The goal here is to fix the apartment and get Cotton and the colonel out of town before anyone knows they’re gone.”

“Wait, Cotton’s going with them?” Yeah, Billy and Cotton had hooked up, but that wasn’t what Billy was thinking about. He was thinking about Cotton’s absolute vulnerability, the way he had empathy for every living creature, including Randy before they’d gotten Randy on six dozen medications to calm him the fuck down.

“Yeah,” Sean said, glancing at him. “I gather it was the boy’s idea.”

Billy bit his lip but kept driving toward Med center. “Man, they’d better not get Cotton hurt. He’s so sweet. He cries at Disney movies. He cries atcat food commercials. I mean, if this is some hairy shit, I… I don’t know if they can protect him enough.”