22. No One's Watching

A light rain was beginning to fall as Kellen climbed the two flights of steps to the third floor of the Greenroof Motel. He stopped in front of the door to unit 325 , then glanced back at the person following close behind him.

Kellen took out his key and pressed it into the lock above the doorknob. The small rattle of the security chain sounded through the silence as he opened the door and wordlessly held it for Alexei.

Alexei entered slowly, a hand lifted to the wall. Just as Kellen had seen him do at the Knights Inn, Alexei raised his other hand out into the air and snapped his fingers.

“Bathroom’s to the right,” Kellen murmured quietly, “once you get into the room. Room’s straight ahead of you.”

And right as he finished, a long, low growl sounded through the space.

Alexei shrank suddenly backward, nearly tucking himself under the arm Kellen was bracing to the wall to take off his boots. “Is that a dog?”

“Yeah, I have a dog. She doesn’t like people. She won’t bite.” Only half-conscious of the automatic response, Kellen pressed two fingers to Alexei’s shoulder and pushed him away a few inches. He dropped a hand to his left boot and yanked at the laces. He set his foot down and pried the boot off.

Alexei wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t moving, either.

For the first time in full light, Kellen looked at him. Pale. Almost as pale as he had been in the Joanna Capris. And scratched up, undoubtedly by debris from the explosions. His sweat was still drying, but he was already shivering.

“I’m serious, she won’t hurt you,” Kellen spoke finally, swatting at a five-inch scrape on his own arm where the sleeve had torn through. “She’s too timid to hurt anyone.” He took Alexei’s wrist and guided him into the room.

There were dog paws sticking out from under the bed. Dog paws that disappeared under the bed as soon as Kellen approached it.

He sat Alexei on the edge of the mattress. “Do you want a shower? Are you able to take a shower in your…” His voice trailed off, a half-hearted gesture raised to Alexei’s blindfold. He turned away and surveyed the kitchenette.

“I would rather take a sponge bath for tonight,” Alexei responded with a weak smile.

Kellen glanced back at him. “Okay. What do you need for that?”

Alexei shrugged softly. “Just a sink and a washcloth.”

“I have that.” Kellen started for the kitchenette.

“Can I borrow a change of clothes?”

“What?”

The way his face lifted, blindfolded as he was.

“What—What kind of clothes?”

Alexei shrugged again. “Just clothes. Show me what you have.”

Kellen’s hand swept the lower half of his face. He glanced at the duffel sticking out from under the bed, then back at Alexei. Wordlessly, he retraced his steps, bent down, and retrieved his bag from beside Wolf. He dropped the bag onto the bed and unzipped it. “There.”

Alexei felt out the shape of the duffel, then reached inside. The first thing he took out was a long-sleeved shirt. His hands passed across the sleeves, then silently set it aside. Next, the leather jacket Kellen had worn to the Joanna Capris. “Wow.” A small smile lifted Alexei’s lips. This one looked distinctly more genuine than the last. “So, cops have style.” He set the jacket aside and reached into the bag again.

“I’m not a cop,” Kellen murmured. His back touched the wall, and his fingers absently brushed his lips.

“This is nice,” Alexei decided, holding up a simple gray T-shirt. “Can I borrow this one?”

Kellen shrugged. “Yeah.” To his surprise, Alexei proceeded to replace the other items and zip the bag closed. “That’s all you need?”

“Yeah.” Alexei stood up off the bed. He took a few steps to the left, then forward to find the wall. Then left again, and he was at the bathroom doorway. He opened the door and snapped his fingers in the space within. He entered and shut the door behind himself.

The motel-provided washcloths were on the sink counter, so he would find them, Kellen told himself. He turned away, raised his hands to his shoulders, and began opening the Velcro straps holding the bulletproof vest closed around his body.

The sink faucet in the bathroom switched on.

Wolf made a slow reappearance from under the bed. Tail swishing low to the floor, she approached her person.

“Let’s get you outside,” Kellen muttered. With a small, pained breath, he lifted the vest over his head and dropped it on the floor. He took a pill from the pharmacy bag near the mini fridge and swallowed it with water from the sink. For three seconds, he cupped his hands under the faucet. Then raised them to his face. Swept his wet fingers back through his hair. Then wiped off the excess run and turned back to the bed.

But instead of immediately reaching for the braided leather leash in the duffel, he lifted the flip phone out of the pocket of a jacket. Kellen pulled up Marcus’s contact and tapped out a two-word text message: “Made it.”

A moment brushed past him, standing in the quiet of his motel room, when he found himself wondering with an uncanny level of desperation how long it would be before he found out if Arlo had made it out.

“Come on, Wolf,” Kellen muttered, grabbing the leash.

Alexei had washed his hair. It was damp and shining in the light as he stepped out of the bathroom.

But that was not the first thing Kellen noticed. Far more immediate was the image of Alexei wearing his T-shirt like a very short dress. And perhaps even more immediate than that: Alexei didn’t look like he was wearing much of anything besides that T-shirt.

Kellen’s eyes averted the second he realized what he was looking at—only for him to then be staring at the minifridge and still seeing Alexei wearing nothing but that shirt.

Kellen swiped a finger absently past his nose. “There’s mac and cheese in the microwave if you’re hungry,” he murmured.

Wolf exited back under the bed.

Alexei silently approached the small desk where Kellen was sitting with his laptop, but then moved to the bed and sat down on it. He was quiet for a long moment.

He must have removed his blindfold in the bathroom, Kellen surmised in the silence that followed. The blindfold was dry, but he had washed his hair.

It was less unsettling to look at him while his legs were folded under him and half-hidden by the loose fabric of the T-shirt.

“Is the AC dead?” Alexei spoke finally.

Kellen slowly shut his computer. “No…I just haven’t been using it.”

Alexei’s lips parted in a light expression of surprise. “You like it hot like this?”

“I’ll set it to whatever you want,” Kellen responded, deadpan.

“Sixty-five or something,” Alexei provided readily. “Unless that’s too cold for you. You really sleep in the heat like this?”

“Sixty-five,” Kellen repeated. He got up and walked to the thermostat on the wall. Alexei was sitting motionlessly on the bed when he turned back. “How’s the wound on your back?”

“It’s not bleeding anymore,” Alexei answered. Then, “Do you want to look at it?”

Kellen’s brow wrinkled, feet stopping in the middle of the room. “ Should I look at it?”

“Only if you want to.” Alexei shrugged.

He didn’t know. Maybe he did. The way that movement drew attention to his neckline. Skin. Collar bone. The soft dip at the center. Rise at the top of his chest. The edge of that barcode tattoo.

Kellen’s eyes flickered back to Alexei’s face. He still wasn’t wearing his lip ring. But the jewelry in his ears was back. The necklace.

“Okay, I’ll look at it.” Kellen walked to the bed and took a zippered case out of the duffel. He laid it out open on the blanket.

Alexei immediately positioned himself so his back was facing Kellen. Unprompted, he wrapped his arms around himself and drew the back of his borrowed T-shirt all the way up to his shoulders.

For the first time, Kellen was left staring at the full tattoo on Alexei’s back. There were wings. Detailed, artistic wings inked across Alexei’s shoulder blades and down a small length of his back. And vertically down his spine in intricate, capital letters: “In the Shadow of His Wings.”

Full paralysis seized Kellen’s body for almost six seconds when his mind put the words together. His eyes flashed back across them. Once, twice, a third time. He knew what the words were referencing. "Keep me as the apple of the eye; hide me in the shadow of thy wings.” Divine protection. Psalm 17 : 8 . A Bible verse.

Kellen tore the packaging off an iodine cotton swab. He swallowed on the dryness in his throat. “This is a burn.” He lowered himself to his knees on the floor beside the bed. Fingers trembling, he put the cotton swab to the wound on Alexei’s back. Gently, struggling to steady his hand, he applied the disinfectant.

Alexei said nothing.

Kellen unwrapped an adhesive bandage and placed it carefully over the wound. He pressed out the edges with the tip of his thumb. He was done. But for a moment, he lingered in the silence.

Kellen’s eyes strayed across Alexei’s back. Smooth muscles, soft skin, the taper of his waist, rise of his hips. The black briefs gripping his waistline but hiding no portion of his perfect thighs.

God, he’s so pretty, the thought stole through Kellen’s mind. Abruptly, followed by a sick feeling in his chest.

The ink. Those words.

“I’m done,” Kellen whispered. He stood up.

“Thank you,” Alexei responded. He turned and caught Kellen’s wrist right as he moved to walk away. “Sit with me.”

“Why?” Kellen pulled away and zipped up the first aid case.

“Please?” The way his lips parted on the word.

Kellen stared at Alexei for almost ten seconds. He let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed. The relief at being off his feet was undeniable. The temptation to just lie down and close his eyes was almost stronger. “What?”

Quiet settled in the room. A small smile touched Alexei’s lips, and he silently moved a little closer.

Shit, Kellen heard dimly in his head. He looked away, eyes straying toward the kitchenette. But the image of that soft smile stayed in his mind’s eye. And without permission and hardly a thought, his vision returned to it.

Kellen’s eyes traced from Alexei’s parted lips straight down to the neckline of his shirt. That necklace. The small, detailed bar pendant. Then lower. The smooth shape of a toned chest visible through the fabric. Midline of that body. How it vanished into the loose-hanging cloth. The way the delicate chain dangling from Alexei’s left earring rested against the soft surface of his neck.

Fuck, I’m just tired. Kellen turned away again and fixed his eyes on the time blinking on the microwave across the room. But the thought that followed wasn’t about exhaustion. I wish I could see his eyes.

And then there was a touch on his chin. Two fingertips at first, then a third. Alexei’s touch traced the line of Kellen’s jaw. Stopped just below his ear.

Those parted lips. The chills his contact sent rippling through Kellen’s body.

Kellen’s hand lifted feebly to catch the fingers straying across his face. Moved to stop the other hand that joined them. But then he was only holding Alexei’s wrists in a loose grip, waiting.

Alexei’s thumb traveled up the front of Kellen’s chin. Gentle, slow. Straight through the damp sweat edging Kellen’s lower lip.

His kiss.

The raw feeling in it as he took Kellen’s lower lip between both of his. Open, so vulnerable. His hand slipped past Kellen’s ear, fingers sliding into his hair.

That breathtaking feeling when he wrapped his fingers in the locks. Pressed his thumb against Kellen’s temple. Swept back the loose strands at the front. Stroked his cheek and gripped the back of his neck.

Something heathen felt on the verge of breaking out in Kellen’s chest. He took Alexei’s jaw firmly in his hand—paralysis seizing the decision of whether to push away or pull in closer.

His warmth. The flavor of his breath as Kellen breathed it in. His smell. The warm scent of his skin. Bare, open, so incredibly vulnerable. The neckline of the T-shirt slipped off Alexei’s shoulder.

That beautiful form pulled nearer. Alexei broke the kiss and put his face to Kellen’s chest. His breath. His breath there. Inhale. Exhale. Warmth.

That bare shoulder. Folded inward. Lifted with his grip on Kellen’s neck. So soft. Naked.

Kellen shuddered suddenly out of contact. He moved away several inches on the bed, then stood up. “What—What are we doing?” He passed the back of his hand across his lips. “Alexei, no one’s watching.”

“I know.” A whisper. Barely a breath.

Silence.

Kellen could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Louder when he noticed Alexei’s nipples were now visible through the fabric of his T-shirt. That shoulder. Kellen looked away.

“I want you.” Another breath.

Kellen swallowed. He frowned hard at the wall. “ What? ”

“Please.” Alexei moved on the bed. His legs folded under him. His smooth, beautifully toned thighs, the folds in the T-shirt fabric resting on them. “Let me pay you back for saving my life today.”

Kellen swept his face with his hands. Shut his jaw and fixed his eyes on the floor. For a fleeting moment, the prospect slipped freely across his mind. Something he suddenly wanted so badly, the desire itself seemed to cut a divide within his chest.

And then it was gone. Dead, with cold reality. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m compensated by the City of Winchester.” He took a small breath. “And I don’t want to sleep with you.”

Alexei was silent for a moment, motionless where he sat on the bed. Then, “Okay.” Another few seconds passed. “Because of your wife?”

Kellen’s hands froze mid-swipe across his face. His eyes darted back in Alexei’s direction. “Because of my wife? ”

Alexei’s lips parted uncertainly. His hand shifted a few inches across the mattress. “I—I thought you said―”

“I don’t have a wife. We’re divorced.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

The question that had been gnawing a hole in Kellen’s throat suddenly almost rose to his lips. He swallowed it back with a small breath. Now was not a good time. And yet, it was a possible time. And the urgency of this question seemed to outweigh the need for the right moment.

“Alexei.” Kellen took a step back toward the bed. “Alexei, I need to ask you something.” Hardly registering his own movements, Kellen got down on the floor beside the edge of the bed closest to Alexei.

“Ask me something…” His voice was distant, face lowered away.

“The person you said you ran into who knew me.” Kellen’s hand lifted, swept the edge of his chin. Suddenly, he was sweating again. “Was it—Was it a girl? Was she—Was her name Skyler?”