I love that saying. No good deed goes unpunished.
Sometimes, when we think we're doing something nice, it can turn around and bite us on the ass. We've all been there before; try to do something nice for someone and it backfires, leaving you swearing you're never going to do
that again. Yet, if you're like most of us, you ignore your own advice and succumb to the urge to do good.
That's what happens to Mark Montgomery in No Good Deed. His good deed is a two-edged sword. The good thing is he saves a cop and meets police Captain Daniel Chan. And the bad thing is his deadly actions force him and Dan into the spotlight, a place he's been avoiding for almost ten years.
Dan's been avoiding the truth of his sexuality, but because of Mark's good deed, he's forced to clarify where he stands, not just to himself, but to everyone in his small Texas town.
Here's an excerpt...
“Please, take a seat, Mr. Montgomery.” I smiled, trying to get on his good side. It was probably the side Lopez hadn’t slammed into the pavement. He sat stiffly in the chair, glaring at me.
“Would you like to call someone?” I pushed the phone toward him.
“There isn’t anyone. Can I get some water?” He unclenched his fists and laid his hands flat on his thighs.
“Sure.” I went to the door, opened it, and called for Beth to bring in a bottle.
“My men told me you were asking to use the phone.”
“Well…I know my rights. I should’ve been allowed one call,” he shot back.
“Yes, technically, but the law doesn’t actually state a time frame for your call.” I tried to salvage some shred of dignity for my men.
“Oh? What does the law say about how long a person can be left in handcuffs, Captain?”
“Normally, you should’ve been processed sooner, I’ll admit. But, technically—”
He interrupted me, “Well, I’d like to ‘technically’ call my lawyer.”
Check. His smile was tight, but his blue eyes blazed. My move.
“I’d hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, Mr. Montgomery. Let’s just say the department would rather not be involved in any legal entanglements due to this unfortunate incident. We already have one man gravely injured. It would be a shame to ruin anyone else’s career.” Check. It was a low blow, and I felt awful about using guilt on him, making it sound as if it had been his fault some stranger decided to attack him or he was responsible for Hagan’s injury.
He sat back and looked at me, considering what I hoped would be a reasonable position.
“I’ll just bet you wouldn’t like to get involved with a lawyer. The news media either.” He let the threat hang in the air. He was tougher than I gave him credit for.
“No, that wouldn’t be my choice of outcomes. Again, what can we do for you?” I spread my hands out on the table.
“Nothing.” His chin jerked upward.
“Nothing, Mr. Montgomery? Are you sure?” I wondered what he meant.
“Yes, nothing.” His eyes met mine.
“Could you explain to me exactly what you mean?” I needed to be sure before I made a huge mistake, costing the department money or its reputation.
There was a soft knock on the door and Beth opened it. “Here’s your water, Captain.”
I stood and took it from her, then shut the door. I broke the seal on the top and put it in front of Montgomery. He picked it up, draining half the bottle before putting it down. I watched him drink, his throat as it moved, as if it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.
It was certainly one of the most beautiful.
He licked his lips. “Officer Hagan was, as you said, injured trying to help me, even if it was his job.” He smiled tightly at me. Check again. He wiped his hand on his cheek, held out his fingers and stared at the blood. Hagan hadn’t been the only one injured. “However, it wasn’t my job to…do what I did.” The last part was followed by a long sigh.
“Yes, Officer Hagan was injured in the line of duty, and he’ll be recognized for his bravery. Still, I realize there were two heroes on the bridge today.”
His gaze darted away as he checked out one of my diplomas on the wall. He frowned and shook his head.
“For me, the only hero out there was Officer Hagan. That’s all I want anyone to know.” His gaze rested finally on his hands as his shoulders slumped. “I just want to go home now, Captain Chan. I want to go home and try to forget what I did.” His voice was so soft now, I could barely hear him.
He shook his head. “I don’t want a lawyer or to talk to the media. I’d just as soon no one knew about what happened.” His hopeful gaze flicked up to mine and held it.
Game over. I wondered if the right side had won.
“Of course. I’ll take you home myself. Let’s get you cleaned up first. Just wait for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
I stood and went down the hall to the locker room. I found a towel and a washcloth. After soaking the cloth in warm water, I grabbed a little soap and worked up a soft lather. Wrapping it in the towel, I headed to my locker, quickly dialed the combination, and pulled out a plain white T-shirt hanging from a hook. Then I stopped at Beth’s desk and asked that Mr. Montgomery’s belongings, including his cell phone, to be brought to me.
I came back in. He was on his feet, reading my diplomas and awards. My bachelor’s degree in Finance from University of Texas at Austin, my Houston police academy diploma, several commendations and a few pictures of me with local dignitaries seemed to interest him.
I didn’t know what to say, so I babbled a bit. “My family wanted me to take over the family business, but I wanted to be a cop.”
He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “Do they know you’re gay, Captain Chan?” He tilted his head.
“I’m not gay.”
Technically.
“Oh. Right.” He didn’t believe me for an instant. Seems I wasn’t the only one with gaydar.
I handed him the soapy towel.
“You can use the mirror here.” I closed the door and pointed to the full length mirror attached to the back of the door.
“Do you use this often?” He raised an eyebrow at me, barely hiding a smile.
“The captain before me had it put on the door and I never got around to taking it off,” I explained, but it seemed vain even to me to have a mirror. He didn’t say a word, just took the cloth from me, but winced and dropped the damp cloth on the floor. I bent to pick it up.
“Ow, that hurts like a bitch!” He shook his hands, but that must have hurt also. He glared at me, his eyes blaming me for his pain. I’d give anything to have been able to fix it.
“It’s from the handcuffs. It’ll stop soon, but until the circulation comes back, it’ll be pretty uncomfortable.” I’m terrible at apologizing—I knew it, and I wasn’t any better this time—but I was going to try really hard to make the best of this situation.
I approached him, holding up the cloth. “Here, let me do it, Mark. Can I call you Mark?”
“Yes.” He nodded, still glaring at me as I took his chin in my hand. He jerked away like a wild animal, nostrils flaring, trying to hold still, but quivering with fear and ready to bolt at the slightest movement.
“Sorry, I don’t like being touched.” He spoke quietly, but he raised his chin to me.
Trying again, without touching him, I began to wipe the dirt and blood gently away from the scrape on his forehead. He flinched, but this time he didn’t move away. I could feel his warm breath on my hand.
His forehead came level to my chin. He was the perfect height for me to tuck into my body, to keep safe. Bad, bad, bad idea.
As I worked the towel over the scrape, I couldn’t help but glance at his bare chest. He looked up and caught me. I glanced away; but he didn’t say anything. Silently, he studied my face as I worked, concentrating on the next scrape on his cheek. When that one was clean, I wiped off the blood on his neck. The cloth ended up covered in dirt and blood, but at last his face was clean.
Not really wanting to, I stepped away from him. I could smell the gun’s cordite in his hair and what must have been his shampoo, some flowery fragrance. I love how a man smells, his musk and his sweat, and I’m always amazed at how it affects me. My dick had certainly woken up and taken notice of the heat coming off the smaller body next to mine.
They say, whoever “they” are, that scent is the most powerful sense and can illicit powerful emotions and physical reactions. Right now, I was putting that theory into practice.
Our gazes met again, and I saw a flare of awareness in his eyes.
He cleared his throat gently. “How does it look?”
“Like clean scrapes now.” I smiled.
“I was going for just that look,” he shot back.
“It looks good on you.” He blushed and right then, I knew I wanted him. And I knew that wasn’t good. Not at all. The best thing to do for both of us was to walk away from this. It was a train wreck just waiting to happen, with the main casualty being me and the derailment of my career.
No Good Deed comes out December 21st.
Lynn Lorenz
When you open your heart, you open your mind.
www.lynnlorenz.comLabels: blogs about gay romance, Cops, interracial, Lynn Lorenz, multicultural, No Good Deed, Texas
