Free Hand (Irons and Works Book 1) Page 3

  “How about I bring lunch when I come to pick up May-Day?” he offered. The phone went muffled, and Derek could just make out the sound of Sam cooing Maisy awake, which made him grin as he stuffed his toothbrush into his mouth and began to scrub.

  “Whatever you get, make it good. And fried, preferably. That one deli over on ninth with the falafel I like? That place isn’t shit for you to get in and out of, right?”

  “Nah, it’s good. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to go flirt with Abram. It’s been a while,” Sam said, a grin in his voice. “I’ll throw some frozen waffles into May’s bag so you don’t have to worry about her breakfast, alright? She’s…having a thing right now about cooked food.”

  Derek chuckled softly. “Got it. Give me fifteen and I’ll be there.” He hung up without saying goodbye, then wriggled into his too-tight jeans and a ratty old t-shirt that was damn-near see-through from too many washes. It felt good though, comfortable, the way he should feel in his own skin. He glanced at his reflection and sighed, dragging a heavy hand through his hair in a vague attempt to order the mess.

  He slipped into his work boots, leaving them untied, then hurried down the stairs to find his car. It was a little damp from the leftover rain, but he’d managed to remember getting all four windows closed, so he called that a small victory considering what a mess he’d been by the time he got home.

  It was only ten minutes to Sam’s place, a little ground-floor townhouse in a neighborhood mostly filled with old, middle-class white couples who oddly enough loved the inked-up guy in the sporty wheelchair. It helped that Sam liked to take his dog out for a stroll every morning, and his obnoxiously sweet Schnauzer loved the attention from the old folk. It also helped that Sam was a freakishly good baker and tended to win the hearts of most people around him. He’d managed to amass a group of sweet little old grandmas for Maisy, so the girl was never without cheek-pinches, hard candies, and love.

  Derek was always amazed that Sam hadn’t been snatched up already. Sam wasn’t a socially awkward, panicked mess the way he was. He was bright and gorgeous and made even the surliest strangers fall half in love. But then again, it was probably the fact that Sam had a schedule which didn’t compromise itself with anyone. Work, the shop, and Maisy—not in that order.

  All the same, Derek was jealous. If he had even a fraction of Sam’s charm, he might have walked away with more than a vague memory of Basil’s hand on his chest, and the echo of his laughter, and the ghost of that intensely floral scent in his memory bank. He would have been brave and a little reckless and would have done more than just offer a quick sign of thanks before running off like a goddamn coward.

  This was why he was going to die alone, surrounded by cats who probably wouldn’t want to eat him even if they were starving.

  Chasing away his weird melancholy, Derek hauled himself out of the car and trudged up to the front door, tripping a little over the edge of the ramp but righting himself before he smashed into the door. It would be just his luck to break his nose right before trying to show he was a responsible caregiver and friend, and he straightened his shoulders in some pathetic attempt to look like he had his life together. Yes, I am fine, please trust me with your child.

  He didn’t bother knocking—none of the family did—and he stepped into the foyer. He turned the first corner to find Sam sitting on the floor, packing up Maisy’s little Moana backpack as she played with her dollhouse a few feet away from him.

  He glanced up when Derek entered and frowned. “Why do you look like someone just killed your fish?”

  “First of all, I’ve only ever had a fish once in my life,” Derek said as he slid down to the floor next to Sam, “and Sage murdered them when he got stoned and decided to share his Oreos. Secondly…it’s been a really fucking bad twenty-four hours.”

  Sam’s brows dipped low in a frown and he pushed his hands to the floor to adjust his position so he could face Derek a little better. “Your dad?”

  Derek dragged a hand down his face. “That was part of it. But don’t tell Sage, okay? That old fuck has been leaving him out of it—I mean honestly, I’m not sure he even remembers there’s two of us, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Sam pursed his lips, but he didn’t argue which Derek decided to take as a win. “The rest of it?”

  “Oh, just your basic run of the mill bullshit. Wrenched my arm at the shop, some woman came in freaking out because she decided her tattoo was wrong six weeks after I finished it, then my dad called to tell me what a useless homo I am. Uh…and then I turned into disaster human last night after I got trapped in this ATM kiosk thing and had a claustrophobic meltdown.” He didn’t want to admit the whole story, but Sam knew him better than that.

  “A vestibule? How the fuck did you get trapped in one?”

  Derek leaned his head back against the sofa cushions, groaning. “I went in to make my deposit last night because I had a bunch of shit getting ready to clear, and I had almost all cash clients this week. Right after I got my receipt, lightning hits something nearby and the power just goes out. There’s some auto-lock mechanism on the door because it fucking locked me inside and shut everything down.”

  At that, Sam reached for him like he couldn’t help it, his hand falling on Derek’s shoulder with a tight grip. “Why didn’t you call one of us?”

  “I left my phone in the car,” Derek said with a sigh. “It was pissing rain and it was bad enough my entire everything got soaked. And anyway, if I had any idea that shit auto-locks I would have taken it with me.”

  Sam didn’t look entirely convinced though and moved his hand down to Derek’s thigh. “Panic attack?”

  Derek shrugged, glancing away, but he knew he couldn’t lie to him. He was never a great liar, and Sam was kind of like the shop’s human lie-detector anyway. “Yeah, bad one, but it was fine.” When Sam looked skeptical, Derek waved his hand. “Seriously. There was a guy in there and he helped me breathe through it. Once I had calmed down, we sat, and he kept my head busy so I couldn’t think about being stuck.”

  Sam smirked at him and lowered his voice so Maisy wouldn’t hear. “I sure as hell hope you don’t mean the head of your dick, man. Those things have cameras. With back-up generators. Last thing you need is some kinky, tatted up douche bag sex tape going viral.”

  Derek punched him in the arm. “My brain, fuck you very much. Communicating was a little difficult so it was like…you know when you give Pepper one of those puzzle balls to keep her from getting all worked up and bored?”

  “Are you comparing yourself to my dog?” Sam asked with a huge grin.

  “Oh, you know what,” Derek started, but Sam squeezed his thigh again, quieting him.

  “I get it. So, what was he like?”

  Hot like burning, sweet, amazing, and I’m torturing myself for letting him go, he let himself think. “Uh, he was really nice and helpful. He was also deaf, so we had to type on his phone, and it kept me distracted. I showed him my gallery.”

  Sam’s grin spread further. “Yeah, I bet you did.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Derek whispered. “I’m leaving before this can get any more absurd.” He started to push to his feet, but Sam’s hand caught his wrist and dragged him back down. He frowned at his friend. “Seriously, don’t you need me out of here?”

  “Yes, I do,” Sam told him, “but I also need to know you’re okay.”

  Derek licked his lips, then felt pretty good about the fact that he knew he could be honest. “I’m beat down, and I only got a couple of good hours last night, but I’m way better than I was the last time I had a break-down. Seriously, the guy really helped.”

  “Okay,” Sam replied after a beat, then let him go. He finished packing up Maisy’s bag, then handed it over before reaching for his chair and using his arms to lift his lower half into it. “Come here, munchkin,” Sam called to her.

  Maisy immediately dropped he doll and launched herself into Sam’s arms. It was in the moment, with the two of them togeth
er like that, Derek could see the intense familial resemblance between them. Maisy shared Sam’s dark brown hair, and high cheekbones—though hers were still hidden under a soft layer of baby fat—and the heart-shaped mouth. For all anyone might have guessed, she was his biological daughter. And for as much as Sam loved her, she may as well have been.

  “You need to be good for uncle DeDe, okay?” Sam told her, stroking a few stray waves back away from her forehead. “I’m going to pick you up when I’m done, okay?”

  Maisy appeared to consider this, looking between Derek and Sam, then nodded. “Yeah. I could behave.”

  Sam kissed her forehead. “I know you will, sweetpea. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Maisy slid off Sam’s lap, then marched up to Derek and held both arms up in a demand to be picked up. Derek obliged—generally unable to say no to her which was probably why he was her favorite—and he hitched her up on his hip. “Can we go in your twuck?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Uncle Sage has the truck today, so we’re going in the zoom car.” He drove a Mini which she found delightful—like some sort of old Roger Rabbit-style cartoon car kids couldn’t get enough of. “Is that okay?”

  She thought about it, then nodded. “Okay. Can I bwing my oh-fant?”

  Derek shrugged and let her slide to the floor so she could race to her room and collect the elephant she couldn’t live without. He caught Sam’s grin and he fought the urge to flip him off. “At least I get to give her back,” he snarked.

  Sam shrugged. “Hey, I’m not complaining here. If I didn’t have you guys, I don’t know what the fuck I’d do.”

  “But you do, so there’s no point in letting this freak you out,” Derek reminded him. “We’ve got this. All of us.”

  Sam relaxed a fraction, and even managed a smile by the time Maisy came out of her room with her arms stuffed full of dolls and animals. With a sigh, he unlocked the brake on his chair and rolled toward her. “One,” he said in a stern voice.

  Her bottom lip poked out in a pout sad enough that Derek almost cut in on her behalf. “But…”

  Sam shook his head. “You’re not going for very long, May. One doll. We talked about this.”

  She looked furious, and in a fit of toddler rage let them all tumble to the ground at her feet. “Fine!” She turned on her heel and started running for the front door. It was Sam’s clever thinking and a lot of experience which had prompted him to have installed child-safety locks on all the doors, so neither of the men hurried to go after her.

  “Want me to help tidy before I go?” Derek offered.

  Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nope. It’ll give me something to do before Beth gets here.”

  Derek shrugged, then leaned in to give him a quick one-armed hug. He could hear Maisy stomping by the door and attempting to pull it open, so he grabbed her pack and elephant and headed after her in an attempt to stave off the toddler tantrum. She didn’t cry as he got her out the door and buckled into the seat, and by the time he had her zooming down the road, she’d calmed down almost completely.

  For all that Derek wished he could have slept most of the day away, he was grateful for the call. Not just because it was one more step closer to Sam being able to finalize the adoption, but also because he was starting to realize that every time he stood still, he pictured Basil in his mind. He could still smell those flowers, still feel the warm weight of his hand pressing Derek’s to his chest. He could hear that laughter, and he could see his deep, rich eyes staring at him once the lights went back on.

  Derek hadn’t felt this way in too damn long—frankly he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like this before—and it was getting to him. They’d been ships passing in the night, nothing special, nothing destined. It would be a miracle if he ever saw the guy again.

  By the time he arrived at his, Maisy was sleepy and let Derek carry her into the house and set her on the sofa with some princess show on Netflix. She declined her waffles, so he threw them into the freezer, then grabbed his softest blanket and laid it over the both of them. She curled up against his chest, a warm, comforting weight, and he started to drift off.

  ***

  Derek jolted awake some time later, unsure how much time had passed. It took him a second to realize what had roused him, and he realized after a second it was his phone. Trying his best not to jostle a still-sleeping Maisy, he managed to dig the phone out of his pocket and saw Sam’s number on the ID.

  “Yo, everything cool?” he asked.

  Sam sighed quietly into Derek’s ear. “If you mean being forced to drive to fucking Denver to sit through another psych eval, then yeah. It’s peachy with a hefty side of fucking keen.”

  Derek pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear the sleep-fog from his head. “Seriously? Again?”

  “Beth’s boss wasn’t satisfied with the initial report, so they want me to sit through a psych eval, they want my OT records, and she thinks they’re going to make me sign up for some sort of like…coping with paralysis and how to live your life class in spite of the fact that I’ve been like this for an eternity and have taken care of May since she was nine goddamn months old.”

  Derek felt a slow, simmering rage burning in his gut, but he swallowed it back. Sam had warned them all they’d need to get on board and help him jump through hoops rather than fight the system which would have been their first instinct. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “What can I do?”

  “I called Kat. She has two early appointments today, but she said she can take May off your hands before your first booking if you want to just meet her at the shop.”

  “I’ll give her a call,” Derek said, “but that sounds fine. And if she needs me to cancel,” he started.

  “Dude, no,” Sam said in a rush. “You’re not going to cancel on anyone because of this. If Kat gets booked for whatever reason, Mat said he was only doing walk-ins today so he can cover, too. We’ve got this, and I’m going to breeze through and get the hell home.”

  “Alright,” Derek said. He didn’t tell Sam that he would have almost welcomed an excuse to clear his schedule for the day. His head was still in a little bit of a post-panic fog and though he could work through that just fine, he could use the break. “Just drive safe and get home when you can. You know she’s in good hands with us.”

  “The best hands,” Sam told him, his voice warm. “Kiss her for me and tell her to be good. I’ll call when I’m back on my way.”

  “Will do. Talk later.” Derek ended the call, then pulled up his texts and shot off a quick one to his brother.

  Derek: Where u at?

  Sage: Work, u lazy fuck. Why?

  Derek: I have May for the afternoon, more fuckery for Sam. Wanna grab lunch?

  Sage: Hell yes, I miss the munchkin. Come in at 12. I’m helping Kat with Jazzy so we can get something.

  Derek checked the clock and saw it was just gone eight, which would give him enough time to ease her awake, get her some breakfast and play time so she wouldn’t be a total monster when he took her down to the shop. Easing out from under her, he settled her against the cushions, then wandered into the kitchen to start his coffee maker. By the time his pot was brewed, Maisy was shuffling into the kitchen, her bare feet padding along the tile. She scrubbed at her eyes with one small fist, her other arm raised for him to pick her up.

  Derek didn’t hesitate as he lifted her up, propping her against his hip as he walked to the freezer for her waffles. “You hungry, munchkin?”

  She shrugged, yawning. “I want chocowat.”

  Biting back a laugh, he said, “How about I toast them with a little butter and syrup?”

  Wrinkling her nose, she squirmed in his arms. “Noooo. I wan’ it wike dis!” She made grabby hands at the open package, and before Derek could stop her, she’d seized one of the frozen discs and immediately started chewing on it. With vague horror, he let her slide down and stared at her before grabbing his phone and sending Sam a text.

 
Derek: This so-called child ur raising is eating a waffle frozen.

  Sam: LOL yeah she does that. It’s fine. Pick your battles, man, and this ain’t one of them, trust me.

  Derek: Gross, but ok.

  It was the simple fact that Sam wouldn’t let Maisy do anything that might put her at risk that he let her continue eating the frozen breakfast, though he turned his attention to his coffee instead of the way she was tearing it to bits with her tiny little gremlin teeth.

  When she was done, she skipped out of the room to play with her dolls, and Derek poured himself cereal just to keep his energy up. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and stared out the window. The morning was grey, the pavement still wet from the rain before, but it looked like it would clear up. It meant the day would be humid and a little ugly as they were hurtling from spring to summer faster than he cared about, but it also meant his semester was almost over and he wasn’t sad about that.

  He felt a little weird being as old as he was and sitting in a classroom full of eighteen and nineteen-year-old kids. He understood, on a fundamental level, that there was nothing wrong with it. He and his brother had both been dealt a shit hand in life, and he’d just taken longer than Sage to reach a place he could be around large groups of people and balance both school work, his art, and his clients all at the same time.

  It was still tough, and he still relished his freedom during summer, but he was starting to feel like he was making real progress. Even nights like last night, which even just a year ago would have made him felt like he’d gone ten steps backward, didn’t weigh on him the same way. Likely it was due to Leila, his therapist, giving him coping skills that were actually working, but it was also a testament to his own strength and desire to move on with his life.

  He’d always have trauma, but he didn’t have to let it rule him.