Forgive and Forget(6)

“Maybe we should leave him, Joe. It’s probably just some homeless guy who’s had too much to drink.”

“That’s no better. We can’t just leave some passed-out drunk in Mrs. Lowe’s garden.” Joe carefully inched closer until he stood over the figure curled up into a tight ball. “Expensive-looking leather jacket for a homeless guy. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t seen a lot of homeless walking around in leather biker boots, either.” He crouched down and shifted one side of the man’s black jacket. “Designer too.”

“Joe, look!” Donnie pointed to the stained grass just under the man’s head.

“Damn, is that what I think it is?” Joe carefully turned the guy’s head, finding the black hair at the back matted with blood. “Looks like someone got him good. We need to call an ambulance.”

Donnie hesitated before his instincts kicked in, and then he checked for breathing and signs of a pulse. “His breathing’s shallow, but he’s alive. He’s probably got a concussion, so it’s not good for him to be out.”

“I don’t know anything about head wounds other than the kind Bea gives me, and luckily, they’re not enough to get me concussed. Not yet, anyway.”

“If he’s got a concussion and he’s out, it could damage his brain. Problem is, we don’t know how long he’s been out for. We should—”

The man shot out his hand and grabbed a hold of Joe’s wrist, causing Donnie to shriek and Joe to nearly jump out of his skin. “Sweet Jesus!” Joe was about to tell Donnie to run and call an ambulance when he realized the injured man was trying to talk. “It’s okay. We’re going to get you to a hospital, just hang on.”

The man made a noise that sounded an awful lot like “no,” but that couldn’t be right. Maybe the poor bastard was out of his head. Joe leaned in when the guy lifted his head. “No cops,” he slurred, tightening his grip on Joe’s arm, his voice so low and gravelly Joe wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn’t been so close. “No hospital.”

“What?” Joe shook his head and did his best to remain calm. “Listen, buddy, someone knocked you over the head. You need medical attention.”

“Please, no cops. Help me.”

“I’m trying to help, but the best I can do is get you to a hospital. I’m not a doctor.”

“They’ll… kill me. Cops… dead…. No hospital. Please.” With that, the guy collapsed back onto the ground.

Well, those were certainly words he didn’t care to hear in the same sentence.





Chapter Two


“JOE, we have to get him upstairs,” Donnie suggested gravely.

Even if Joe was in the habit of bringing mysterious men home to his apartment—which he wasn’t—they would at least be conscious, and not possible murderers or criminals. There was a reason this man didn’t want them to alert the cops, and that was hardly a good sign. Yet the genuine fear he’d seen in those gray eyes had rattled Joe.

“Even if that wasn’t completely insane, you got a crane stashed somewhere I don’t know about? Because that’s what it’s gonna to take to move this guy,” Joe hissed.

Donnie gave a very helpful shrug. “You’re a big guy.”

Technically, a poodle was big to Donnie. “Yeah, and he’s bigger. Much bigger. Look at him!” Joe wasn’t about to point out that he’d be the one shouldering most of the weight. The man’s shoes probably weighed more than Donnie did. There was no way Joe could carry this guy up all those stairs by himself. Not without pulling something.

“Stop being such a delicate flower,” Bea growled, and Joe nearly keeled over. How in the hell did she do that? Why did she do that? Despite the circumstances, Joe couldn’t help batting his lashes.

“But I am a delicate flower.” That earned him an uninspired expression. “You know, one day I might just wake up and realize I’m the boss around here.”

“Yeah, well, when that day comes, you let me know. Now, if we all pitch in, we’ll get this guy upstairs. Personally, I think we should just call the cops and let them deal with him.”

“We can’t. What if he ends up dead and it’s our fault because we turned him in?” Donnie said with surprising confidence. “If we just get him upstairs and wake him up, we can find out what this is all about. The longer he’s out, Joe, the more damage his head could suffer. We can just call Jules afterward.”

Jules was a good friend and an even better nurse. She would know what to do. What was he thinking? This was crazy. Who knew what or who this man was? Despite all his misgivings, Joe found himself grunting in agreement and walking around to hook his arms under those of their new friend. Donnie grabbed a leg, Elsie the other, and Bea the middle. On the count of three, they lifted, and as quickly as they could manage, they carried him carefully up the iron steps toward Joe’s apartment, with Joe bearing most of the weight—as expected.

“What’s this guy eat for breakfast? Bricks?” Donnie groaned.

It certainly would explain why he was so damned heavy. Even with everyone pitching in, Joe’s muscles strained. He picked up the pace so they could reach his apartment before his back gave out. Finally, they managed to get into the living room, where they sat the guy on the couch before they collapsed onto the floor and various furnishings. After catching his breath, Joe stood and walked over to their unconscious guest.