Blaine
BLAINE
Looking out the rear window of his truck, took a deep breath. The building looked like any other police station. Nothing made it stand out. His view from the parking lot was clear, and he could see people flowing in and out of the double doors at the front. He took in the brownstone frontage, the clean lettering over the door read precinct thirty-two, and the patch of flowering shrubs lining the building as though trying to bring an air of gentility to the place.
In a quiet display of nerves, he bent his thumb toward his ring finger. On it sat a chunky, somewhat gaudy silver ring with a large peridot in the center. Immediately, he began fiddling with it, twisting it around his finger and tapping it with his thumb.
He pulled his phone out, looking at the time and grimacing. Twenty minutes were left before he’d have to get out of his truck and enter the building. There was no reason to be nervous. He knew that. Sure, he would be essentially a rookie at twenty-eight, but he was sure he wouldn’t be too far behind. The eight years of military experience had to count for something, right?
Yet his stomach flipped, and he found himself dialing his brother’s number.
“I wondered if I’d hear from you,” Blake said.
“Is that your way of telling me I’m predictable?” asked, laying his head back and closing his eyes.
“If it was anyone but me, sure. But it’s me, so I just know you.”
snorted softly, nodding his head, knowing that though his brother couldn’t see him, he could probably guess what was doing. Just like knew his brother was sitting in his home office, leg kicked up on the desk, smirking knowingly. Just like Blake had been the one to know was gay, well before he’d had the courage to tell anyone. And knew Blake was considering ending it with his girlfriend, even though his brother had nothing but good things to say about her.
It was easy to know things like that when you had shared a womb.
“I know I’m doing the right thing,” told him.
“Sure you are. You couldn’t hang out on Mom and Dad’s couch forever.”
“Right. I need a job. I need fulfillment. I know.”
It was the same thing he’d been told by the therapist Blake insisted he go to. still wasn’t sold on the idea of therapy. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. Thankfully, the good doctor didn’t want to know about the horrors of war or what bloody fights had been in overseas. Instead, he focused more on ’s new and not-so-exciting task of being a civilian again.
He wasn’t sure which step he was on, but it meant getting a job, a career. And what better than a police officer? Hell, he’d already fought to keep the peace overseas. At least, that’s what he told himself. It wasn’t that big a step to keep the peace at home.
“Though, Port Dale. That I didn’t expect,” Blake said.
shrugged. “Bigger city, bigger problems, should keep me busy. Plus, we always liked coming here when we were kids.”
“Yeah, we went there for a few hours at a time. Can’t say that was enough to make me want to live there,” Blake countered.
“Well, it was either that or try to find a spot in some small town, and sorry, but I’m not dealing with small-town mentality. At least here I can just...be,” muttered.
Blake sighed. “, they’ll...come around.”
said nothing, scowling at his reflection in the rearview mirror. How proud his parents had been when he signed up to fight someone else’s war. His mother had wept, and his father had beamed, calling their son a hero.
And what a complete change of heart they’d had when that same son had come home, weary and tired of fighting, of hiding, and told them the truth. He’d gone from hero to disappointment in as long as it took him to say, “Guys, I’m gay.” had always known his parents wouldn’t take well to the news, but there was bitterness at being correct.
“Yeah, sure,” said, flipping the visor down and opening the mirror.
“And you know I don’t give a fuck.”
“No, you don’t.”
“And you’re not living with them anymore.”
“Thank God for that. My shitty one-bedroom apartment here is better than staying in my old room back home.”
“And you’re guaranteed a spot at the station.”
“Is there a point to this, Blake?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
closed his eyes, nodding. His brother was right. He was letting his thoughts and nerves get the better of him. The last thing he needed was to piss off his brother, the only member of his family who would willingly look him in the eyes.
“Sorry,” he muttered, meaning it.
“You’re on the right path, . You’re setting yourself up for a life of your own. Don’t worry about them or the rest of the family. Worry about yourself. Doors are opening for you. Get walking through them.”
“My brother, the fortune cookie,” said, smiling.
“Damn right. I’m chock full of wisdom. Now go meet with your new chief, and try to make nice with your new partner.”
looked himself over in the mirror. He reached up, tugging on the short blond hair that fell across his forehead. It was strange, having hair again, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to buzz it down or let it grow. It was neat, though, which was all that mattered for the meeting with the police chief. There wasn’t much he could do about the dark bags under his blue eyes. The stubble on his cheeks was a lost cause, and he rubbed his hand over his jaw in annoyance. Didn’t matter how well he shaved, give it a couple of hours, and he’d be sprouting coarse hair over his square jawline.
“Yeah, I will,” told him, finger stroking the long scar on his right cheek.
“And don’t forget to buy a shower curtain on your way home,” Blake told him.
laughed, opening the truck door. “Love you too.”
* * *
Police Chief Ronald Morgan was not what had expected. He was a short man, even from ’s experience, who was used to being the tallest person in the room. Despite his shortness, the older man was nearly as broad in the shoulders as and obviously took great care in his appearance, from his tidy hair to his neat mustache.
The same could not be said for the man’s office, however. had done his best not to look around too much when he’d been ushered in. Files and books were stacked everywhere, and wasn’t sure what the black mass at the bottom of a takeout container had originally been.
“An impressive history,” Chief Morgan said, peering at his computer screen.
was honestly impressed the man could read anything off the dirty screen. He was also happy he didn’t have to touch anything. The keyboard looked crusted with weeks’ worth of old coffee and hardened sugar.
“Thank you, sir,” told him.
wasn’t sure what the man could see, but he knew it was enough. The meeting with the police chief was just a formality. The job had already been offered, and had accepted. Anything else was just talking in circles, and after eight years in the military, was used to that.
“Hmm,” Morgan grunted. “No medical warnings.”
forced a polite smile on his face. “Other than a few old bullet holes and scars, I’m in perfect health.”
Morgan waved a hand around his head. “And nothing, uh?—”
“No, sir. I left when my contract was set to renew. Decided it wasn’t the life for me. There’s nothing wrong with my brain. I’m sane.”
He cringed inwardly as the police chief nodded. hated that some of the soldiers who returned weren’t considered sane. Those men and women were no less sane than , but much like the soldiers who came home without a limb, some bore deep wounds in their minds. They were sane, just hurting.
Morgan cleared his throat and pushed his keyboard away, something scraping beneath it. “Well, you couldn’t have come at a better time. We would have found a place for you anyway, but it just so happens that one of our veteran officers has decided to go...elsewhere with his career.”
“Nothing bad, I hope,” offered.
“Nah, just decided he didn’t want to be walking the streets with a gun anymore. It happens. But it did leave us with an easy-to-fill spot for you to slide into.”
“Ah, the not veteran partner.”
“Right. Except now he’s going to be the veteran since you’re new.”
Morgan squinted, then corrected himself.
“Well, new to being an officer. I’m sure with your background, you’ll adjust quicker than some of the guys around here did.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir.”
Morgan snorted, pushing back from his desk to stand up. “Polite, eh? Guess that’s the military. Should be real interesting to see how your partner deals with it.”
wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Not one for formality?”
“Let’s just say your partner is...well, he’s a pain in the ass, is what he is. I’m not going to mince words with you, he’s a grouchy asshole.”
Oh, goody.
“But he’s a damned good cop, and Sam, the guy who’s left us, swears up and down he’s a damn good partner too.”
“A stunning endorsement,” said dryly.
Morgan rounded the desk, squinting. “Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or you being serious. Either way, he needs a partner, and so do you. It works out. If you two can make it a week or two without killing each other, I’ll call it a success.
Well, Blake had said he needed to keep busy. supposed adjusting to what sounded like a pissed-off bear in human form as a partner would fit the bill nicely. Though he wasn’t sure that was the distraction he would have chosen.
“And I’m supposed to meet him when?” asked, standing up.
A sharp knock came from the door behind him.
Morgan smirked. “Only one asshole knocks like that. He’s early.”
drew himself up, unconsciously adjusting his clothes as the chief grabbed the handle and opened the door. “We talked about this. You don’t have to break my door down every time you want in.”
“Jesus, it wasn’t that hard.”
froze. He knew that voice. Jesus, did he know that voice. But it wasn’t possible. God couldn’t be that evil, could he?
Morgan rolled his eyes, stepping away from the doorway. “Say hello to your new partner.”
* * *
Growing up in a little town like Carson meant a lot of things.
It meant not a whole lot happened in a place where everyone knew everyone else and their business. If you wanted excitement, you had to hope one of your friends had a car that could make the three-hour drive to Port Dale, where everything happened.
It also meant that when a new face showed up, it was obvious. In seventeen years of living in Carson, had seen people go and seen even fewer come. So when the new kid walked through the front doors of their tiny school, where all the grades were crammed together, it was a big deal.
Especially for .
Everyone was talking about the new kid, who apparently didn’t talk much. A new student was big news for the sparse population of upperclassmen in Carson. By lunch, had heard every rumor about the poor guy, and he was sure more would come. A few girls had thought he was cute but ‘a little short.’ Some of the guys thought he was an asshole because he barely spoke to anyone.
When finally saw him, he was at a loss for words.
The new kid sat under one of the many trees at the front of the school. He was scowling at absolutely nothing as he chewed on a sandwich, purposefully looking anywhere but at the mingling crowds of fellow students.
And ? realized he wanted to make friends.
“New kid, huh?” asked once he was close enough.
The kid blinked up at him, puzzled for a moment, then frowning. “Yeah.”
smiled. “That sucks.”
“You noticed, huh?”
“Well, I’ve spent all morning hearing about how you were hooked on drugs or killed a guy or stabbed a teacher at your last school, so I kinda figured.”
The kid rolled his eyes. “Stupid shit. I didn’t do any of that.”
“Yeah, figured that out on my own too.”
He looked up at again. “You seem to have a lot figured out.”
Blain slid down the tree to sit beside him, shrugging. “You won’t believe it, but I’m actually kind of smart. I can figure shit out.”
Dark eyes watched him carefully. “That so?”
“It is.”
waited a beat before holding out his hand. “. Edwards.”
The kid’s eyes darted between ’s face and his hand. His black hair hung down into his dark brown eyes. There was a sullenness to him, sure, but could see the small light of hope in his eyes. When the kid reached out, his fingers brushing ’s, to shake his hand, it felt like the beginning of something special.
“Eric,” he finally said, voice rough. “Eric ? —”
* * *
“Andreas,” Morgan was saying.
stared at Eric, just as stunned as Eric was.
The past several years had been good to Eric. Time had removed the baby fat from his face, leaving him a strongly defined jaw and good cheekbones. His black hair was short enough to keep its naturally unruly state tamed. He hadn’t grown taller, but he had filled out for sure, far bulkier than the lithe nineteen-year-old he’d last seen.
His chest tightened as he stared at Eric, watching the emotions flash over his dark eyes. The shock gave way to confusion. The anger came next. had expected that, but not before a flicker of pain crossed Eric’s handsome features.
stared for what felt like forever at the man who had once been his best friend. That friendship had blossomed into something so much more after they’d graduated. Then it had all fallen apart, was torn apart. And could feel the gulf between them, stretching wider than the eight years that separated them.
And now they were facing each other again, in the most impossible, unlikely circumstances.
finally found his voice. “Hello, Eric.”