Love Lies Bleeding, Remmy Duchene [moboreader .TXT] 📗

But once he bags the bad guy, he will be clear headed and he'll see. Don't worry. These things take time. You can't rush love."

Anderson groaned but he knew Coach Jessops was right. He knew he felt something strong for Leo but would he go so far as to call it love?

"I'm an old man, so my days end faster than you young guns. I should go see how Millie is doing. If you want to watch television, feel free. You have access to the kitchen, so make yourself at home."

"Thank you." Anderson nodded. "Good night."

He watched Coach Jessops leave the room but instead of watching television, he warmed some dinner leftovers, grabbed a couple bottles of water, and climbed the stairs back to the bedroom. When he entered, he found Leo sitting up on the bed with a pained look in his eyes. Anderson placed the tray down on the floor and sat on the side of the bed.

"Baby?"

Leo smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. "I woke up and you weren't here."

"I was talking to the coach… learned some very interesting things about you."

"Is that so?"

Anderson nodded with a bright smile. "And I brought you something to eat."

* * * *

Leo ate silently but he watched Anderson. He was rubbing the back of his neck the same way Leo would when fatigue was setting in. They were alike in so many ways. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Leo shoved some more potato into his mouth and chewed. It was either that or say something stupid. "You look tired, professor."

"No one has called me that outside of classes before," Anderson said. "Somehow when you say it, it sounds sexy."

He swallowed the last of his roast beef and placed the plate on the ground. Easing forward, he folded his legs and took Anderson's hands. "Get some sleep."

"I haven't had a good night's sleep since my father was killed. I keep having the same nightmare. I'm afraid to close my eyes."

"I'll be right here. I'll sleep with you."

"After your food digests. You just ate and you don't want to wake up with all that food sitting on your chest. It's not good for you and…"

Leo couldn't take his worry anymore so to stop his outpouring of words, Leo slammed his lips over Anderson's. The professor moaned but wrapped his arms around Leo's neck and opened his wonderful lips. Without a second thought, Leo shoved his tongue in, allowing the heat from their joined lips to flood his body as he leaned backward, pulling Anderson atop him.

"This your way of getting me to sleep?" Anderson questioned.

"Is it working?" Leo brushed a hand over Anderson's head to the back of his neck and caressed, massaged. "I wish I could take you in the bathtub."

"Take me in the bathtub?"

Leo sighed, closed his eyes, eased his mouth up to Anderson's ears and licked. "Take you in the bathtub… slow, rough."

"Leo."

"I know. We can't here. Just lie here with me."

Anderson moved to his side and rested his head on Leo's chest. Leo sighed, smoothing a hand over Anderson's cheek then settled against the bed. But no matter how happy he was to have Anderson in his arms, something didn't feel right. He didn't move until long after Anderson had fallen asleep. Walking to the window, he pushed a bit of the curtain aside and peered toward where the squad car was parked. He hoped someone had relieved them but he couldn't go check. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him going to speak with them and break their cover. He was about to crawl back into bed when a movement caught his eyes. Squinting, he hunched lower, staring into the semi blackness wondering if he was seeing things. Unfortunately he wasn't. There was a shadow moving toward the squad car.

"Shit."

"What's going on?"

Leo turned toward the bed but only for a mere second. He was rummaging through the drawer for his gun and badge even as he replied. "Someone is out there and they're heading toward the squad car."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me. I know. Stay in the house and away from the windows. If I don't come back you get Mildred and the Coach and lock yourselves in the master bedroom."

"Leo?"

"Please. Just do it."

He tore from the room and skidded down the stairs. Instead of going through the front door, he climbed out the low side window like he normally did when he stayed with the coach's place in high school after his mother died. Those were the times his mother spent more than a couple of days in the hospital. When he was younger it was so much easier to get through. Eventually he landed on solid ground and hunching in the dark, gun in hand, he made his way quietly around the house, across the street, then toward the car in the darkness of the trees.

His heart was racing in his chest. At one point it was so loud his ears popped. Swallowing, he winced as it popped back and he could hear again. He moved in behind the man hunched down by the car.

"NYPD!"

The man rose and turned toward him. The figure jerked around to look toward him, only to back up and take off running. The cops in the car didn't come out to help, even with all the commotion. It didn't seem as if they so much as lifted their heads. A bad taste rose in Leo's mouth. Instead of taking off after the suspect, Leo figured he should knock on the glass. He could not believe they were sleeping on the job, so something was definitely wrong.

When he knocked on the window, the men didn't move. With the suspect out of his mind for a moment, he removed his shirt, wrapped it around his first, and slammed it through the glass. It shattered inward. Reaching in, he felt the first officer's pulse and his heart almost stopped. He didn't have to touch the other