Page 17 of Promises Kept

7.

Standing His Ground

Alec sat at the local bar a short way away from the Val, nursing a large gin and tonic. Dylan was a few minutes away, having had a meeting with some playwright he was interested in.

Memories of last night flooded his head as he sipped his drink and he chuckled. It had been a fairly entertaining and clean evening.

They’d run out of dishwasher tabs so Dylan, in his wisdom, had decided a little bit of Fairy Liquid in the dispenser would be the answer. He’d put too much in and when Alec had gone into the kitchen about an hour later, all he’d seen were piles of wispy foam all over the kitchen floor. It had been knee-deep, the dishwasher looking as if a puffy alien entity was trying to get out.

It had taken them ages to clean up, using dish towels, bath towels, and anything else to hand to mop up the mess. The positive side was that the place was now squeaky clean.

He laughed softly. It had been fun and certainly given them a few ideas for foam play not related to laundry or clean dishes.

He was about to get up and order another drink when someone squeezed his shoulder. “Alec? Oh my God, it is you.”

The man standing beside him was a reminder from a time in his past Alec wanted to forget. Lucas Payne, his ex, was six foot four and built like the professional wrestler he was. He reached out a hand, enticing Alec to shake it, and he stared at it pointedly.

“Lucas. I wish I could say it was nice to see you but that would be a lie.” Alec’s hands clenched around his drink. “I’m enjoying a quiet drink and expecting my boyfriend soon, so I’d appreciate it if you could leave me in peace.”

“Oh come on, surely you’ve got a minute for an old friend.” Lucas drew up a chair and sat down. “Let bygones be bygones, Alec. I’m married now, got kids, settled down. I’m a real family man. I only wanted to say hello.”

Alec glared at him. “Well, you’ve done that, so you can be off now.”

Christ, who would be stupid enough to put a ring on your finger? I hope they know about that temper of yours. And kids? That’s a scary thought.

“I second that.” The welcome, familiar Irish burr was tinged with ice. Dylan placed a possessive hand on Alec’s shoulder as he glowered down at Lucas. “And do you mind? I think you’re in my seat.”

“Who are you?” Lucas sneered. “His dad?”

Alec closed his eyes fleetingly. That remark would be a catalyst to ensure Dylan resorted to more than snark. That could earn Lucas a smack in his face. Then there’d be police, and a jail cell….

Shit, Lucas, please fuck off before my boyfriend gets stuck into you, you arsehole.

He was surprised to hear Dylan reply, with no trace of aggression, “I’m his partner, boyfriend, significant other, whatever you want to fucking call it. Now I think I heard Alec ask you to leave. Oblige me please, before I have to remove you myself.”

The underlying tinge of fury was obviously wasted on Lucas, who laughed.

“Wow, he’s pretty protective, isn’t he? Like a damn pit bull. I must say, Alec, I never saw this coming.”

“See this coming, you arrogant little prick,” hissed Dylan, and Alec managed to catch his fist before it connected with Lucas’s face.

“Babe, that’s not what you want to do. I know him. He’ll be screaming grievous bodily harm before you can say ‘dickhead.’” He reached over and folded Dylan’s fist to his chest. “I’ll deal with this.”

Dylan stared at him, eyes darkened. “This bastard landed you in hospital, mo ghrá. I’ll not have him insult you or sit there and give you grief. He’s nothing but a bully.”

“It was only a love tap,” Lucas sneered. “It was his own damn fault he fell over and hit his head. He always was a clumsy oaf. Tripped over his own shoes so many times I thought of letting him stay barefoot.”

Dylan’s nostrils flared. “You broke three of his ribs, you bastard. And don’t you dare talk about him as if he’s some fucking plaything you owned.”

Lucas’s eyes grew cold. “If the shoe fits…”

By now, the rest of the bar were becoming interested in the unfolding drama. Alec knew it was only a matter of a time before Dylan decided enough was enough. He had visions of flying fists, blood, and war cries, and that was something he truly didn’t need.

Sometimes having a person in my life with a short fuse and a “fuck you” attitude is something of a challenge.

He released Dylan’s hand and turned to a smirking Lucas. Alec wanted to slap it off his face, but he manfully suppressed the urge. He knew how to deal with bullies. He’d handled it at school and at college, and he’d manage now.

Last time, Lucas might have gotten the upper hand due to his size and strength, but that was never going to happen again.