Mutual Possession (Nine Tenths of the Law #1)

26. Spencer

Chapter twenty-six

Spencer

Henry is the last person I expect to see when I swing the apartment door open. He’s shifting uncomfortably on his feet, a green supermarket bag in one hand. His thick brown hair is swept to the side, like he’s been running his hands through it. A nervous gesture.

No wonder Kendrick made extra for dinner, the sneak.

“Can I help you?” I liked him just fine when he was guarding Sebastian with us; he was so fucking out of his depth it wasn’t funny, and he was harmless. How he got on Riley’s homicide squad I still can’t work out. Riley usually has good instincts, but this kid should have stayed in the country. Henry thinks Riley’s the one who orchestrated the bodyguard job; it wasn’t. Greer had a hand in that, mostly to keep him out of the way while he worked a case with Six—convenience, more than anything—and I know he carries some guilt over what happened to the kid. He has nothing to feel guilty about; now Henry has a battle scar on his face he can wear proudly. It’s not every day you get shot in the head and live to talk about it.

That was then, and this is now. He didn’t have dinner with my boyfriend before. Or take his attention away from me. I allowed it to begin with because of everything that happened. My patience, however, left the building months ago.

“Uh—yes?” Henry shuffles from one foot to the other again. “I think so. I’m here for dinner?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Kendrick calls from the kitchen. “Let him in.”

I contemplate whether or not I want to shut the door in his face. Would he knock again or walk away? There has to be a backbone in there somewhere.

The only reason I step out of the way and gesture for him to come in is that Kendrick obviously invited him. And strategically didn’t tell me about it.

“Sit,” I tell him, pointing at the couch before stalking across to where Kendrick is chopping carrots. “What the fuck?” I hiss at him, confident there’s enough distance that we won’t be overheard. Not really caring if we are. “A heads-up would have been nice.”

“Then you’d have talked me out of it. Or found an excuse to not be here.” He tugs me into his arms, bracketing me against the counter. The nuzzling against my ear is nice, and I melt against him. “Just give him a chance. You’ll like him.”

“I don’t like anyone who thinks they have a right to your time over me.”

“He doesn’t think that.” He kisses the tender spot under my ear, then nips at it. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, how do you figure?” I mutter.

“Because he’s more interested in Greer.”

That makes me pause, and I twist slightly in his arms to see his face. “What? Fuck off.” No one is interested in Greer like that. Except Six, who’s certifiably crazy. Hell, half the time people can’t even look at him for more than two seconds because he eviscerates them for daring to look at him.

“I observed them once, when they were working a case that I was staking out. He’s terrified, of course, but that’s only his natural instincts kicking in.”

“Greer doesn’t scare me,” I mumble. I once watched him puke up his guts in a bush because he and Jericho were having a drinking competition. Not that Jericho fared that much better. Neither of them won that even if they both insist they did. “How does him being scared mean having a hard-on for our resident asshole?” I don’t even know how he and Six fell together, except for meeting when Greer was a patient of his at the hospital he worked at once upon a time. Years before Kendrick and I were part of the team.

“He watches Greer like a hawk. Lingers on him, and it’s not just professional curiosity.”

I can’t even imagine it. Greer practically radiates “fuck off and die” vibes. Though I guess he’s passably handsome if someone looks. He does look nice when Six is making him keep his mouth shut while fucking him. I doubt Henry’s seen that.

“Can I get up now?” Henry asks from his spot. “I have—um—I brought—” He twists and looks at us, goes bright red, and turns back around.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “How is he a cop?”

“Be nice,” Kendrick chides, nipping my skin again.

Only because he asked. With one last lingering kiss, I move around to the other side of the bench.

Henry looks so uncomfortable that I take pity on him and gesture at the bag. “You said you brought something?”

“Oh, right.” He pulls out a brand-new bottle of Cognac Gautier.

I whistle as I take it from him. Damn, that’s nice. At least he has good taste in alcohol. “Fancy. Was this a job interview? You’re hired. Let’s talk salary.”

Kendrick plucks the bottle out of my hands. “We’ll have a drink, but you’re taking this home with you. We don’t need special treatment, Henry. Relax. Spence won’t bite, I promise.”

“Excuse me.” There’s no need to reveal all my secrets. Besides, I don’t bite. I use knives like a civilised person. “You want some now?”

“Yes, please,” Henry says quickly.

I snort quietly and bite back my response. Kendrick owes me more than a few family sized bags of Skittles for this. A couple of hours of cuddles. Chocolate kisses. More pancakes in bed. He can be my pancake.

I’ve only poured two of the three glasses when another knock comes at the door. “Did you invite someone else I don’t know about?” How many people are we catering for?

Kendrick hands Henry a glass and takes the other for himself. “Not that I’m aware of. Could be work related? I spoke to”—he glances at Henry—“G before, and he had something he wanted to tell us.”

Fucking perfect. The last thing we need to do is show our association with Greer and have to explain that. Greer would have a conniption; he likes his jobs kept completely separate.

The man in question glares at me when I merely poke my head through the door instead of opening it properly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shoo.” I gesture for him to step back and then go out into the hallway with him.

“You having an orgy in there or something?”

“Nah, I’d have invited you inside,” I reply with a grin. “I hear you and Six like to be watched.”

“You heard that, did you?” he says dryly. “Seriously, why the fuck are you making me stand out in the hallway?”

“Henry is here for dinner.”

Greer frowns, dark eyes flashing. “What the fuck? Why?”

“He and Ken have some weird friendship going on.”

“By weird, you mean…?”

It’s my turn to scowl. “No,” I snarl. “He tries to touch Kendrick, and you’re gonna be looking for a new partner while investigating what happened to your old one.”

He raises an eyebrow at me and says nothing.

“I’m assuming you aren’t visiting to have dinner with us.”

Greer shoves a hand in his pocket. His suit’s wrinkled, and now that I’m looking closer, he looks tired. Not that it’s unusual; he always looks like that. He works more than any of us, like he has something to prove. Like if he stops, he’ll be swallowed whole. I know what the other cops at the precinct think about him, and it’s laughable. He hides too much of himself; I wonder if he even sees it all? I doubt anyone but Six sees all of him.

“Your man Jack is in the wind.”

Not what I was expecting. “What? How?”

“We got the warrant, found his little box of treasures, right where you said they’d be. Went to his workplace to arrest him. They haven’t seen him for three days. Daughter claims she doesn’t know where he is. Neither do other family members, neighbours, friends. He’s gone to ground.”

Fuck . “He knew you were coming.”

“Yeah, looks like. Hunter and Jericho are approaching some of their contacts, see if we can’t flush him out. Considering his background, there’s a chance he’s going to slip the net.”

“He’s dangerous. No matter where he goes, we have to follow him.”

He nods. “Yeah. If we confirm he’s no longer in the state, then we’ll reach out and have everyone looking for him, outside of official channels. I’ll get it marked for cold cases and log it with the rest so we can make him disappear without questions. As long as he’s six feet under, I don’t care who does it.”

I’d much rather be the one to do it, but he’s right. So long as he can’t hurt anyone else, it doesn’t matter who takes the shot. “Let us know if you turn anything up.”

Greer puts his hand on the door before I can open it. “There’s a chance he’s still here, Spence. And he’s watching you two. Be careful, okay?”

“Are you worried about me?” I tease. He’s not wrong. Irene’s murder was done in a way that was specifically aimed at us, for taking the thrill of his kill from him, for taking away the recognition he thinks he deserves. We swept Veronica’s murder under the rug, and he didn’t like it.

“Just keep your fucking gun close and stop being a smartass.”

“I can only do one of those things.”

Greer leans in close. “He’s stayed under our radar. If I get another phone call about broken legs or kidnapping, I swear to God I will murder both of you and stage it as a suicide, understand me?”

I knock my forehead against his gently. “Don’t stress so much, man, you’ll get wrinkles.”

He calls me a particularly inventive name and then stalks off, phone already in his hand. I do love putting him in a bad mood right before he goes home to Six. Inevitably, he’s gonna say the wrong thing, and Six will have him on his knees.

I stop short just inside the apartment. Kendrick is stirring something on the stove, half turned and listening to something Henry is saying. Terror seizes my heart.

He’s watching you two.

Greer is right. He has been, and neither of us have noticed. He’s not just an average person, in over their head. But he also knows the police are looking for him. Who wouldn’t prioritise their own freedom over revenge?

Unfortunately, too many people.

And there’s no way that I’m letting anything happen to Kendrick, not again. I’ll kill every motherfucker that gets within fifty feet of him if I have to. Watch the entire world burn so that he’s safe and in my arms. I’ll leave as many bloody corpses behind me as it takes. Sacrifice anyone.

I quietly move to the small side table against the wall near the dining table and reach underneath, working the keypad until the drawer clicks open a fraction. Kendrick watches as I leave it like that but doesn’t say a word.

Loaded weapons are hidden in there, nestled in polyethylene foam. If something happens, I want to access them as quickly as possible. There are other ones in the hallway, the bedroom, and the bathroom. “Dinner ready?”

“Almost. Have a nice visit?”

“No. Seems the horse escaped their pen. Friends are looking for it, but there’s a chance it may get itself into trouble before they can find it.”

Kendrick’s gaze flicks back to the side table. “Got it.”

“You have a horse?” Henry asks curiously.