Chapter 26
Sitting midway down the first baseline at the ballpark, Nic stared out over the field, past the giant mitt and Coke bottle slide to the tankers and sailboats crowding the rippling waters of the Bay.
Indian summer was still going strong—bright sun, warm temps, a good breeze.
Not much had changed during his time in Boston or during the week since returning.
But it had been more than enough time for Nic’s whole world to change.
Mostly for the better, which scared him far more than the leftover bad parts. He had so much to lose now—a new home, a family of trusted friends, a lover he didn’t want to hide from. The mess with his father and Vaughn could steal all that good away at any second, which was why he was here today.
That and the killer craving for caramel corn that always struck him this time of year, right before the season ended as if his taste buds knew the sticky sweetness was about to disappear again for six months.
“That shit will rot your teeth out.”
Nic glanced right, down the empty club level row—a day game the last week of a losing season didn’t draw a crowd—and saw Aidan shuffling toward him, tie gone and already half out of his suit coat.
Grinning, Nic bent the opposite direction and came back up with another box of freshly popped, gooey-tossed goodness. “So you don’t want the one I got for you?”
Aidan smirked as he tossed his coat over Nic’s on the seat backs in front of them. “I didn’t say that.” He dropped into the seat beside Nic, rolled up his sleeves, and claimed his prize. “Nice seats,” he mumbled around a bite.
“Perks of being a shiny new vendor.”
“Gravity brews at the Park?”
Nic nodded. “Just signed the contracts for next season.”
“You won’t be able to tear Cam away from here.”
He waved a hand in the air. “I’m hoping it’ll mellow the BoSox of it all.”
“No chance.”
Nic hid his groan behind another mouthful, and Aidan laughed until a grand slam on the field drew their attention momentarily away, both of them standing to cheer on their hometown team.
“You settled in at the house?” Aidan asked once they were seated again.
“Yeah, all good.”
Aidan bumped his shoulder. “I’m happy for you two. Jamie is too.”
“That’s good. I know how important he is to Cam.”
“And he knows the same about you. And you’ve saved his best friend at least four times now by my count.”
Nic angled toward him and lowered his voice.
The likelihood of being overheard was minimal but caution dictated.
“But what if I’m the one who gets him killed?
Or any of the rest of you?” Stomach revolting at the notion, he set the caramel corn aside and wiped off his hands, wringing the napkin so hard he shredded it. “I couldn’t live with myself if—”
Aidan clasped his arm, cutting him off. “We’re going to nail Vaughn. You’re going to get your happy ending too, Dominic.”
But not every story had a happy ending, and until recently, the chapters of Nic’s life had not ended on high notes.
He hated to be a pessimist, especially when almost everything else seemed to be going right for a change, but he was a lawyer.
And a soldier. Evaluating risks, expecting the worst, was what he’d been trained to do.
Just like the players on the field, he had to cover all the bases. Not let a line drive or fly ball slip through, because now, improbably, he found himself on a team. He couldn’t leave the game or his team to chance when it was more than just his life on the line.
He reached forward to the seat backs in front of them to where they’d tossed their jackets and pulled his out from under Aidan’s. From the inside pocket, he withdrew a sheet of folded paper. “In case I don’t,” he said, handing it to Aidan.
Aidan tossed his empty box aside, cleaned off his hands, and took the paper. His warm brown eyes scanned the sheet, brow furrowing. “This is an insurance certificate for the house.” His eyes continued down, then grew wide when they reached the bottom. “For double the value.”
“The report came back on the apartment fire. Arson.”
“Shit.” Aidan fell back in his seat like he’d been punched in the gut. Nic could commiserate. “You think it was a warning?”
Nic nodded. “I can’t be sure what’s going to happen, and I can’t risk your house. I know what it meant to you. What it still means to you even if you don’t live there anymore.”
“This is too much, Dominic,” Aidan said, trying to hand the paper back to him.
Nic refused to take it. “Peace of mind.”
Their stare-off lasted one crack of the bat before Aidan conceded with a huff, leaning forward and slipping the paper inside his jacket.
“I also need you to do me another favor,” Nic said.
“Whatever it is, you know I will.”
“You’ve said before you used to help with your family’s estate docs.”
“That’s right.”
“I need mine updated.”
Aidan’s brows snapped together and he shot forward in his seat. “Dominic—”
He held up a hand. “I should have done it years ago once Gravity was up and running, but now I have even more to protect.”
“I agree they should be updated, but for this reason, Nic? Why are you so sure things are going to take a turn?”
Insides twisting, he turned his face away, staring back out at the field.
Remembering how his dad had first bought season tickets as a means of distracting him.
How he’d taken delight in sneaking off with Garrett to games at the old stadium.
What it had felt like to lose him, to lose it all.
Like the imagined sensation of the tree branches on his back twisting, knotting, and breaking.
“I was happy once and I lost it all with two words and a fist.”
“Your father,” Aidan surmised, pity and fury wrapped together in his rumbling Irish burr.
“I don’t trust it won’t happen again by either his or Vaughn’s hand, and I need to protect what’s mine better than I did then.”
Aidan grasped his shoulder. “You were eighteen.”
“And I’m forty-six next week. With combat training, a legal degree, and a hefty bank balance, thanks to the brewery and a military pension I invested well. I have the means to provide and protect.” He covered Aidan’s hand with his. “Help me do that, please.”
Aidan squeezed his shoulder, then slid back in his seat. “What are you thinking?”
“I want the brewery insulated and for it to go to Eddie, free and clear.”
Aidan nodded, and Nic snagged another paper out of his coat and handed it to Aidan. On it, he’d written two account numbers.
“Offshore?” Aidan asked.
“Offshore,” Nic confirmed. “If something should happen, there’s enough in the first one to pay off Vaughn.
If that’s unnecessary, then I want it to go to Mary Del Selva.
” True to her word, Mel had “stolen Mary away” to work a couple days a week for her and Danny as Mary wound down to her full-time retirement.
Nic wanted to make sure that retirement was secure.
“Okay,” Aidan said. “And the second account?”
The second account was twice the size of the first one.
His retirement nest egg, which he contributed to monthly.
“For Cam,” he said, blood heating and chilling at the same time.
He never thought he’d have someone in his life like this again.
That he had to provide for that person in the event of his death, sooner or later, was both heart-lifting and heart-wrenching.
“That and everything else I have,” he added.
“I figured as much.”
“You’d do the same for Jamie.”
One corner of Aidan’s mouth hitched up. “I have.”
Nic absently rubbed a hand over his left hip, thinking of the ink he’d started to pine for there.
He knew exactly what he wanted it to be, a version of the label he’d already sketched, and he hoped like hell it would be inked in celebration, memorializing a victory.
Not a tragedy. But in case there was one, and in case he was on the losing end of it, Nic didn’t want Cam to regret the decision he’d made to leave the rest of his family behind and tough it out in San Francisco. For him.
“I don’t want him to want for anything ever again.”
“I understand, and I’ll do this for you, of course.
” Aidan folded the paper into quarters, all the accounts and figures hidden, and tucked it into his dress shirt pocket.
He sat back, arms folded, glaring intently.
Knowingly. Like the best friend he’d improbably become.
“But I think what Cam wants most is for you to stay alive.”
Nic glanced out at the field again, hoping things went differently this time. Praying for the happy ending he wanted. That Cam deserved. “I’m going to try my damnedest.”
But if it came down to it, he’d always save the man he loved. Even if it meant a fist to his jaw. Or a bullet to his heart.
Thank you for reading!