“H-how’d you guys do that?” Jesse stammered, staring at the men lying in a row like fallen dominos.

  “That’s what we do,” Tech said, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “We try to protect the residents from getting robbed by doped-up junkies.”

  “Well, you guys must have a busy job.” Jesse brushed at some leaves and dirt that’d gotten tangled in his hair. He cursed, realizing he’d lost his beanie in the scuffle. “There seems to be a ton of those around here.”

  “Yep,” Tech agreed. “But there’s only one supplier. And if we get rid of him and his synthetic drug that’s making people insane or flat out killing them, then maybe some of these addicts can get treatment. Treatment from a powerful drug that your best friend was selling.”

  Jesse shivered, frightened, cold, and tired. He just didn’t think he could take much more. How had he gotten himself in such a shitty situation? Being leaned on by some narcs that’d basically just saved his life and were now asking him to do the right thing. To help them. Help the police fight a war they were obviously losing. Wasn’t it Jesse’s civic duty to do that? That’s how he’d been raised. But now when he was facing the fire, he was cowering. Oh god. His mom would be so disappointed. Jesse felt the tears welling but again held them close. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Look, I know you didn’t do anything wrong. I checked you out, Jesse. You’re smart. Graduated with honors from a great college. You seemed to have done all right for yourself despite your circumstances.”

  Jesse wasn’t gonna bother wasting his precious breath to ask how they knew this… of course they knew. They knew everything. Except how to get Worm to talk. But Jesse did, and it was time he did his part, time he did the right thing. Worm only had one soft spot, one weakness that the narcotics officers could exploit.

  Him.

  “We’re gonna get these men out of here. Let them sleep it off in the tank for forty-eight hours. They won’t hurt you any more tonight.” Tech pulled Jesse from his thoughts by sliding a business card into his front jacket pocket. “Call me anytime. And I’ll come get you if you’re ready to talk to Felix.” Tech started to turn away, then paused. “Try not to wait too long, Jesse. God has me checking up on you to make sure you’re safe—he knows you don’t belong on these streets—but I can’t be around all the time. And his patience wears thin, quickly.”

  God sent them. Jesse nodded. “I guess God sent you two because you’re the most dangerous.”

  The dark man behind Jesse chuckled menacingly, and the sound made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It made him feel as if a ghost was lurking just a few feet away.

  Tech smirked. “No. God sent us because those other two cause way too much trouble to be allowed out this late.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Jesse said to Tech’s back.

  He turned and pointed at his open black parka, revealing the perfect Ivy League outfit of khakis, button-up shirt, and vest that was accented with a lot of badassness. “I’m telling you the truth. You can trust me, Jesse. I’m wearing a bow tie for fuck’s sake.”

  Jesse would’ve laughed if he could, but there was too much weighing on his sad heart to manage the effort.

  Mason

  Bone-rattling thunder woke Mason in the middle of the night. He sat straight up in his bed as the sound of torrential rain and howling winds raged from a storm outside. The powerful gusts caused the tree limbs hanging over his house to beat aggressively against his rooftop. What the hell? He knew some weather had come in, but… Fuck! Before his feet touched the cold floor, his thoughts immediately whirled to Jesse. He darted into his closet and tossed on the first articles of clothing he could get his hands on. It felt like a rock had been dropped in the pit of his stomach. Jesse was out there.

  Without thought as to what he’d say to Jesse when he found him, he threw on his all-weather jacket, grabbed the keys to his Explorer, and was out his front door. The cold, biting rain came down in slants and beat against his face as he raced down his driveway. He’d only been outside ten seconds, and he was drenched. He could only imagine how Jesse…. Goddamnit. Why’d you run out on me?

  Mason admitted he’d been disappointed and felt more than a little foolish when he’d come out of the bathroom to an empty table. The note Jesse left had helped his ego, but he didn’t appreciate his options being taken away. Maybe he wanted to ask Jesse for dinner at his place or breakfast the next day. Instead Jesse had run away because he assumed he wasn’t good enough.

  Mason turned the wipers on high speed as he drove through the neighborhood. The storm was bad out, and the temperature had dropped to the low fifties, making the freezing rain feel like sharp edges of glass when it hit him. Mason rounded the corner and shined his bright lights into the park, not caring who he was blinding. Many tents were still standing and battling valiantly against the wind, but most of the drifters that lingered around were gone.

  Mason grabbed his flashlight out of the back seat and jogged into the park. “Jesse!” he yelled. “Jesse!” Shit. His voice sounded too small, like it was being carried away on the wind.

  Mason didn’t rip open any tents, but he shined his heavy-duty flashlight across the wide-open grounds, searching for a long, slim-framed man curled in on himself. He walked over to the tree he’d seen Jesse reading under a lot, then to the bench he typically chose to nap on in the evenings, but he was nowhere to be found. Mason turned in a circle, wringing his hand through his wet hair. “Jesse!”

  Riding by in his patrol car and seeing Jesse on the streets all week had eaten at him a little more each day, until it was an ache he couldn’t quite ease. He’d been telling himself to give it time, to be patient. However, Mason swore this year he was going to stop letting nice men get away and blaming it on patience. He was finally going after what he wanted, but he would still be careful. Jesse had opened up to him a little, but it was obvious he still had secrets, and Mason didn’t know if they were the career-killing kind or not. But he couldn’t stand it any longer. He’d gone off his gut instincts his entire life, and he believed it was what made him a good cop. And everything inside of him was telling him that Jesse didn’t fucking belong out there. “Jesse, where are you?” Please don’t let anything have happened to him.

  “Mason!”

  Mason jerked his light around and shined it directly into Arnie’s face, earning him a slew of harsh curses. “Get that goddamn thing outta my eyes, boy! Who you hollering for out here?”

  Mason jogged over, his running shoes sloshing through the dense puddles. “Arnie. Are you all right?”

  “I was, until you woke me up.”

  “Why aren’t you at the shelter? I thought you didn’t stay over here anymore?” Mason said loudly over the wind. “Too dangerous.”

  “You really doing small talk right now?” Arnie grunted. “You wanna talk about the weather too?”

  Mason crouched down so he didn’t have to yell. “I’m looking for someone, Arnie. A new guy. Young. He wears a black leather jacket with a gray hood and is kinda quiet. Reads over there by that tree a lot.”

  “Yeah. I know exactly who you talkin’ ’bout. Baby-faced guy.”

  “Yes!”

  “The dealers think he’s the reason for God’s enforcers coming through here the other week and cleaning house. The kid took off earlier after some Bulldogs chased him towards the freeway.”

  Mason was damn near hysterical. “How long ago! Which way did—”

  “I’m getting soaked.” Arnie ducked back into his tent.

  “Arnie, goddamn you!” Mason barked.

  “Under the overpass bridge! Now go on. Get outta here with all that noise. You’re louder than the storm!”

  Mason was already gone.

  Jesse

  Jesse was curled up so tightly beneath the freeway overpass, trying to blend himself into the shadowed concrete. He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d been hiding, since he didn’t calculate time that way anymore. Hours were impossible to keep up with on the streets. Jesse wasn’t even sure what day of the week it was. All he knew was he was done. He’d never had to run for his life so much, and it was all his friend’s fault. Jesse had to get out of this shit. He had a degree; he had dreams and ambitions. He didn’t have to live like this. If the storm ever passed, he was walking to the precinct and directly into God’s office. Once Worm got a look at him, at what Jesse had gone through, his friend would sing like a canary.

  Jesse was dozing in and out, trying to keep one ear peeled for trouble while he attempted to rest. The storm raged unforgivingly around him, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t enamored by Mother Nature. His head was bowed in the crook of his arm when he heard someone hollering his name. Jesse scrambled further into the corner, noticing the bright searchlight scanning the area.

  “Jesse!”

  Ellis! Jesse tried to call out, but his throat was so dry his voice came out as a cracked whisper. He couldn’t recall when the last time he had something to drink. The other day, maybe. Jesse covered his sensitive eyes when the blinding light hit his face. He didn’t need to see his angel to know he was there. Jesse carefully eased down the sharply angled concrete as Mason rushed up to meet him.

  “Jesus Christ.” Mason wrapped him in the tightest hug he’d ever had, breathing heavy against his throat like he’d been running a long time. “I thought I was gonna find you dead.”

  Jesse fell into Mason’s body and closed his eyes in relief. “Ellis.”

  “It’s okay. I got you,” Mason said soothingly, and Jesse felt himself being guided by strong arms and placed inside a warm vehicle.

  Mason

  Jesse was slouched and shivering in the passenger seat, his eyes opening momentarily when the thunder rolled, only for them to ease closed again. His head lolled to the side and faced him, and Mason’s heart melted. He looked so broken and defeated. Why’d I wait so damn long? He’s been out there all alone. Mason couldn’t resist tucking a long strand of dark blond hair that looked black when wet behind Jesse’s ear. He moaned sweetly and nestled into Mason’s palm, and he knew he was a goner.

  Mason pulled up as close as he could to his front door, but the rain was still coming down in thick sheets, and there was no way to avoid getting drenched more. Mason cut the engine, and the overhead light came on, illuminating Jesse’s face. He was almost model beautiful. Long, brown lashes, spiked from the rain, rested on his face as he slept. His lips shivered with every breath he took, lips that were made for kissing and licking. Jesse’s smooth, creamy skin held a hint of a shadow around his lower jaw… or was that grime? My gosh. Even under the filth, Mason saw this man’s beauty… inside and out.

  “Hey,” Mason whispered, not wanting to scare him. “Jesse. Wake up. We’re here.”

  Jesse seemed to struggle to fight his exhaustion and open his eyes. “Here?” he croaked. “Where’s here?”

  If Mason hadn’t been watching Jesse’s mouth, he wouldn’t have heard what he’d asked. “We’re at my house. It’s only two blocks over from the park.”

  Jesse glanced out the window, then back to him. He had tears running down his face, or maybe it was the rain, Mason wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. “Why are we here?”

  Mason slowly reached up and stroked Jesse’s cheek, and yeah, those were tears that fell. “I don’t know, honestly.”

  Jesse placed his freezing palm over his.

  “I just know I had to find you.” Mason shook his head because it didn’t make total sense to him either. “Will you come in, please?”

  Jesse bit his trembling bottom lip before he sighed, “Yes. Please.”

  Mason put his arms around Jesse as he noticed him limping toward the porch. He quickly unlocked the door and got them both inside. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Jesse answered. “Just… tired.”

  “Okay.” Mason left Jesse standing in his entryway as he observed the open space that was his living room. Instead of making things as awkward as he felt, Mason went to the fireplace and started tossing a few pieces of wood on top of the starter log. “I should’ve got this going before I left… but… I was rushing.”

  Jesse continued to stand on the square of checkered linoleum as if he didn’t feel comfortable taking another step. As Mason got the fire roaring, he noticed Jesse fidgeting with his messy hair and fussing with his clothes. Yes, he was a mess, a tall, gorgeous mess. Mason didn’t know why he had such an overwhelming need to protect Jesse, to make him smile at least once, to make him warm. Mason removed his coat and hung it in the closet. He walked up to Jesse and stood only inches from him. “Let me have your coat?”

  “No. It stinks,” Jesse mumbled, looking away. He stared at the flames of the fire instead of at Mason.

  “Only a little.”

  Cute frown lines formed in the center of Jesse’s forehead.

  “I was just being honest.” Mason smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “You can sit by the fire and get warm… and I’ll… I can, um…” Mason prayed he wasn’t being insulting. “I can put your stuff in the washing machine.”

  Jesse’s sad brown eyes lingered on him until they dropped to his feet. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mason realized he was staring and jerked himself out of his trance. “Let me get you a sweatsuit to wear while your clothes dry.”

  Mason helped Jesse get his sodden clothes off until they were in a pile at his feet, soaking the edges of his carpet. He didn’t care. Instead he tried not to be a creep and gawk at the supple, unblemished flesh Jesse had just recovered with Mason’s clothes.

  “Why don’t you sit next to the fire. You’re still shaking,” Mason observed.

  Though the distance was minimal, he still took the opportunity to slide his hand into Jesse’s and guide him across the small area rug. Jesse practically slid down Mason’s body onto the thick carpet and sat with his long legs pulled up to his chest. He watched painfully as Jesse slowly extended his quivering hands toward the warmth. Again, Mason felt that squeeze around his heart.

  He took the heavy quilt off the back of his sectional and draped it around Jesse’s shoulders. Mason knelt there, rubbing his arms through the heavy material. “I’m going to put your clothes in the wash, and I’ll be back. Are… are you hungry? I have some leftover beef stew I brought from a potluck we had last night. It was pretty good.”

  Mason watched silent tears fall down Jesse’s face. He wasn’t bawling, and it wasn’t overly dramatic, but it was as if he just couldn’t hold them at bay. Mason wiped at one with the back of his knuckle. “It’s okay, baby.”

  Jesse gripped both of his strong hands around his and squeezed before he brought Mason’s palm to his mouth and placed a delicate kiss in the center. Mason gasped as sparks shot up his arm, almost knocking him on his ass.

  “Ellis,” Jesse mouthed.

  Mason wanted to lean in and ask for more touching, but Jesse was the one starving… not him. No. Mason was famished for something that had nothing to do with food. “Okay. I’ll heat some up for both of us.”

  Jesse

  Thank you, Mom. Thank you for sending me an angel. Jesse rubbed his hands in front of the roaring fire and prayed. He thanked the heavens for answering, and he thanked his mom for hearing him. He’d begged for help while underneath that bridge with cars whizzing above his head and angry gang members shouting that they were going to kill him. He prayed for an angel to come save him. He prayed for a miracle.

  And then he heard his name. He’d heard Ellis calling for him with panic in his deep voice. And he thought it’d been the sound of mercy. Now he was here in the man’s home—a police officer’s home—wearing his clothes and kissing his kindness. Mason’s touch was so damn gentle, so sweet and loving, that there was no way it could be faked. That’s why he was going to have to tell Mason everything about God and Worm tomorrow. He wanted to make absolutely sure that Mason didn’t get caught up in any of his crap.

  He watched Mason move around in his tidy kitchen, warming their stew that was already making his stomach roar embarrassingly. It was a small but modern home with an open floor plan, stainless steel appliances, and recessed lighting. Mason had a bowl of apples atop his breakfast bar, along with an open laptop and several scattered papers. The five-person dining room table was a pretty polished oak and looked unused as if it was only there because it was the norm. He had masculine art on his walls, and the most fascinating was the bookshelves that made up one long wall of his living room. And each shelf was overflowing with everything from fiction to textbooks.

  Mason walked into the living room carrying a bowl in each hand. He’d changed into a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that said “You’re getting on my nervous system.”

  When Mason noticed him scrutinizing it, he chuckled and said, “My partner, Clark, and I participated in an MS charity marathon last year. And for it, I got a scraped knee and this kick-ass T-shirt.” Mason snapped his fingers. “Oh, something to drink. Do you want some water or something warm?”

  “Water is fine,” Jesse said. His pride was taking a serious beating, but his momma also didn’t raise no fool. He’d be an idiot to refuse anything Mason offered. Anything.

  Jesse was careful to remember his manners and not inhale the stew, but he still finished well ahead of Mason. Neither of them had said much while they ate. The only sounds he heard were the crackling of the firewood that challenged the thunder and gale force winds outside. He caught Mason watching him, and Jesse wasn’t exactly shy about watching him back. When they were finished, Mason took the bowls and placed them in the empty sink. Everything in his house was so neat and clean, yet it still had that cozy, lived-in vibe. A place Jesse would call a home, not a house.

  Mason took the quilt from around Jesse’s shoulders, and he suddenly realized that for the first time in weeks… he felt warm. He took Mason’s outstretched hand and got to his feet, standing close enough to kiss him, but he didn’t dare.

 

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