Lola parked out the back of Emilio’s shop, and I led a dazed and confused Yanni up to my flat. It was just on five thirty so there was plenty of light. Too much light actually, so I pulled down the blind over the window that fronted Abbot Kinney Boulevard and offered Yanni the papasan chair. I got him a bottled water and pulled the blanket off the lounge and put it over Yanni’s lap, and within seconds, he was curled up, still staring into space.
I stood there not knowing what to say or do, feeling every bit helpless as I did years ago, and not even a minute later there was a knock at the door. Yanni startled, so I called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s Emilio, man,” the familiar voice called out.
I opened the door and Emilio came in, followed by Lola. “He insisted,” she whispered.
Emilio looked at me, then back to the crumpled man on the round chair in front of the window. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
“I was right about Lance,” I told him, loud enough for Yanni to hear. “It was him all along.”
Emilio’s jaw bulged and his nostrils flared. His dislike of a man he’d never even met was evident. Then Emilio walked over and knelt down in front of Yanni. He spoke softly, like he was talking to a frightened child. “You’re safe here. Spencer’s a good guy. We’ll look after you, okay?”
Yanni barely nodded. He just pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes. I doubted it was to sleep, more to block the world around him out.
Emilio walked back over to me and whispered so Yanni couldn’t hear. “He can’t stay here.”
Then, with the worst possible timing, there was another knock at the door. “Who is it?” I called out.
“Um, it’s Andrew.” There was a muffled sound, like he was mumbling something. “I can come back…”
I opened the door. He was a sight for sore eyes. God, I just wanted to throw my arms around him. I pulled him inside and did exactly that, but he was tense, and he didn’t hug me back. When I pulled away, I saw he was staring at Emilio and Lola, and of course, the strange guy curled up on the papasan chair.
“That’s Yanni,” I said gently. “I was right about Lance.”
A dozen emotions flickered across his face. “You found him,” he murmured.
“As soon as I said that bastard’s name, he freaked out. I had to bring him here.” It was then I noticed Andrew was holding a vinyl album. “What’s that?”
He stared at Yanni for a moment, then at the album jacket cover he was holding. “Oh, it’s silly really. I wanted to get you something to say sorry for last night. It’s some B-grade piano concerto of Jeff Buckley’s ‘Hallelujah.’” He shrugged. “I had to make some calls to find it… I just think flowers aren’t very personal, and I wanted to say sorry.”
Despite the crazy, emotional afternoon, all I could do was laugh quietly, because that right there, was proof this beautiful man understood me. I put my hands to his face and drew him in for a kiss.
Andrew blushed at my display of affection in front of Emilio and Lola, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Yanni. He whispered, “Is he okay?”
“He will be.”
“It was the boyfriend?”
I nodded. “I’ve never seen someone so scared,” I whispered. “And I only mentioned his name.”
Andrew nodded sadly.
I sighed heavily. “I didn’t know where else to take him. I couldn’t just leave him there.”
“I don’t think he should stay here,” Emilio said. “If Lance found out, he could come looking for him, especially if he knows where you live.”
“I never told him where I live,” I replied.
Lola frowned and asked, “What about Gerard, your old client? Didn’t he recommend Lance to you? Did he come here when you worked with him?”
I shook my head. “Never. I met him at cafés or bars. I never brought any of my clients here. Well, except for Andrew.”
Lola gave me a small smile, though she still looked concerned. “I agree with Emilio. If Yanni thought Lance might have followed you—” She shook her head. “Spencer, the guy’s a bastard. There’s no saying what he will or won’t do.”
Andrew looked at each of us, then back at Yanni. “I know where he can stay.”
I shook my head. “He’s not staying with you. I don’t want you implicated in this in any way.”
Andrew shook his head and gave me a small smile. “No. Somewhere else.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We bundled Yanni into Andrew’s car, and after saying goodbye to Emilio and Lola, Andrew drove us out into the neon lit LA night. Wherever he was taking us was familiar to him, and the further he drove, the lights dulled from city neon to residential. But not just any residential. Oh no, these were the houses of the rich and famous. I recognised some of the street names from movies, and before long, Andrew pulled up to a large gate and entered in a security code. The gate slid open, and he drove forward, pulling up at the front door.