Free Long Way Home by Carolyn Gray by Carolyn Gray Page A

BlackBerry. “And
    call Gev. I’ll send you his number. Might be fun to talk with him without anyone else around.”
    “I will,” Lee said, though he wasn’t positive that would happen. “You’d better go. Mutt’s
    looking impatient.”
    Nick rolled his eyes and headed for the taxi, waving to Lee as he got inside. “Have fun!”
    “I’ll try.”
    The taxi driver closed the back door after making sure Nick was comfortable—he clearly
    knew money when he saw it. Nick would insist on giving the cab driver an outrageous tip
    regardless, but he always enjoyed the extra touches. They drove off then, and Lee watched until
    the taxi disappeared around the corner.
    Only then did he head for the rental, unlock the driver’s side, and slide in. He turned on the
    car and headed for a parking space, then decided no, it was early yet. He hadn’t eaten, and
    though the pancake dinner had been late, he was starving. No reason not to head out now and
    possibly locate a different hotel out of the downtown area and closer to where he had a feeling
    he’d spend most of his time.
    Seconds later, he was on the highway. His phone chirped; Nick had texted him Gev’s
    number. He stared at Gev’s number for a moment, then closed his phone.
    He’d store it later. Maybe.

    38

    Carolyn Gray

    Chapter Six

    Gev woke up with a start. It was morning—too damn early, that was for sure. He kicked
    off his covers with a groan for his aching muscles, startling the cat. Terror Screech jumped off
    the bed with an affronted yowl.
    “You do have your own bed, you know.”
    The cat, responding as she always did to Gev’s snarkiest voice, sidled up and jumped back
    onto the bed. Chuckling, he waited to see what Screech would do. Sure enough, the cat climbed
    atop his chest and settled down, purring happily.
    “You’re warped, you know that?”
    The cat eyed him with half-slit, golden-green eyes.
    “You’re holding me captive, aren’t you?” He thumped his hands to his sides, not really
    minding. Too blasted early to be up, too fucking unbelievable a night.
    Seeing Lee Nelson had nearly knocked him off the stage. How many times had he dreamed
    of seeing Lee again in person? Even though years had passed since Gev had seen more than a
    photo of him, Lee hadn’t changed that much. Older, with the five o’clock shadow that went with
    it, but he carried himself the same, had the same gestures, the same thoughtful looks. And his
    eyes… Gev had a thing for eyes, especially dark brown ones fringed by long lashes. He’d been
    relieved, he had to acknowledge—a life of fame hadn’t destroyed Lee’s looks.
    He’d discovered only by accident Lee had actually done well for himself, playing bass
    professionally. A lot of his girlfriends in high school had loved Dream. When he’d realized Lee
    worked for Nick Kilmain— the Nick Kilmain—and had for years, it’d been a shock. Nice one,
    though.
    He never told his friends he knew— had known —Lee. Or about Stefan, though a few knew.
    His family had moved when he was a sophomore, and while he’d hated it at first, it made
    pretending things hadn’t happened much easier. He really didn’t like to think about the past
    much, and being somewhere new, where only an occasional person connected him to Stefan’s
    case, had made it easier. Whenever someone did make the connection, though, it slammed into
    him, hard. Made him think of his brother too damn much, and how his disappearance had
    changed things. Changed his mother.
    His heart lurched between anger and sadness at the thought of his mom. She never
    mentioned Lee, never seemed to wonder what had happened to him. Gev had tried to tell her
    about Lee playing bass for Dream, but she’d looked at him through stark eyes and turned away
    without a word.
    Gev pushed the cat off, gently this time, and got out of bed. The cold air brushed against
    his naked skin—he liked it cool, always missed cold climates when he left them. But the need to
    be