When Jay came back into the room moments after Riley left, his expression contained thunderstorms. It concerned Nick, and he wondered what had happened to put the expression on his brother’s otherwise easygoing face.
“Everything okay?” he asked, turning on the bed so his legs hung over the side. Jay’s expression cleared instantly, and he smiled. Jay’s smile lit up his whole face, but only his family ever witnessed the full effect. Nick knew something happened to Jay in high school that changed his happy, easy demeanor to a more reserved one, but he never pried. It was Jay’s business, not his. He hated it when Jay stuck his nose into his private life, and he wouldn’t pry into Jay’s.
“Yeah, Nickers, I’m good.” Jay held up a fist, and Nick bumped it with his own.
“Can you please not call me that? I’m not a kid anymore.”
Jay laughed again, pinching Nick’s cheek between his fingers and making fish lips at him like some old great-aunt everyone hated to see because she was so damn annoying. Nick smacked him away, and Jay collapsed into the chair, his laughter threatening to take over.
“You’ll always be my kid brother. No escaping that.” Jay swallowed the last of his laughter, growing serious, his eyes searching him over for injuries. “How are you feeling?” He frowned as his gaze found the white gauze bandage covering the wound left from the bullet graze. His fingers investigated the same spot on his own head as his brow furrowed in concern. “What happened? I didn’t see the doctor when I came in. No one told me anything.”
Nick hesitated, knowing what Jay’s reaction would be. His brother might be easygoing, but he tended to be a tad overprotective. He focused on the thin, white blanket on the bed, picking at it with his fingers.
“Bullet grazed me,” he mumbled.
“What!” Jay exploded. “What the hell? A bullet grazed you? How the fuck did that happen?”
Nick winced from the volume and anger in Jay’s voice even though it wasn’t directed at him but rather at the circumstance. Next, he would be threatening Nick with—
“…wrap you in goddamn bubble wrap! I swear to God, you are the only person in the family capable of finding trouble in a bubble. You are coming home with me when they release you.”
Nick groaned, his hands going to his head, as Jay’s shouting set his head to pounding again. Jay cut off at Nick’s groan, his brow furrowed. “Ah, shit. Sorry, Nickers.”
“It’s okay. Just, I kind of have a mild concussion, too.” Nick waited for the inevitable explosion that the furious expression on Jay’s face heralded, but it never came.
Jay’s eyes closed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and gave a long, suffering sigh. “How did this happen?”
Nick flinched with uncertainty. “Um… I’m not really sure I should talk about it.”
The door creaked open as Jay stiffened, his fist clenched at his side. “Why the hell can’t you tell me what happened?”
“He shouldn’t talk to anyone until he talks to the officer in charge of the case. This is an ongoing investigation.” Riley came to sit next to Nick on the bed, took Nick’s hand, and dropped a kiss on the side of his mouth. “Hello, sweetheart. You okay?” Nick beamed at him, nodding. Unfortunately, the nodding set the pounding in his head off again, and he winced. Riley ran a hand through Nick’s thick, dark hair, giving his head a gentle massage and leaning over to push the nurse call button.
“And who the fuck are you?” Jay growled at Riley. Nick pleaded with his eyes for Jay to lay off, but Jay ignored him. Please, don’t let Jay scare Riley off, Nick prayed to whoever might be listening.
“He’s, um, my—” Shit! How did he explain Riley? His neighbor? His friend? His…
“Boyfriend. I’m guessing you’re Jay.” Riley held out a hand to Jay, who shot him a narrow-eyed glare before shaking it.
“Since when?” The growl in his voice betrayed his wariness.
Nick shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Riley put an arm around his waist and drew Nick to him. Sighing happily, Nick leaned against him as his mind whirled. Riley called him his boyfriend, but why? Yes, they knew their feelings were mutual, but they still needed to talk, still needed to figure out things.
Of course, it made things easier to explain, and Nick certainly wouldn’t complain if Riley wanted to claim him. He could stay right here in Riley’s arms forever, and hell, he was tired. The silence in the room seemed as heavy as his eyelids. The buzzing flicker of the fluorescent light became the only sound in the room.
He really should say something to ease the tension, but he failed to muster the effort. His lids drifted closed, and sounds came as if from a great distance. The door creaked open, footsteps approached, a soft murmur of conversation, more footsteps that moved farther away.
Then he heard Riley’s soft voice in his ear. “C’mon, sweetheart. Take your pills, then you can rest.”
He opened his mouth without opening his eyes. Small pills fell onto his tongue, the awful bitter tang invading his mouth, then the smoothness of a straw followed. He sipped enough to wash the pills down, the cold water refreshing.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Jay said with a sigh of resignation, accepting that no answer would be forthcoming.
Riley’s strong arms wound their way around him, shifting him back onto the bed and lying him down. A soft kiss pressed to his temple, gentle hands stroked his cheeks, then sleep took over.
When Nick woke up, he first noticed the sun streaming in through the open blinds, little bits of dust dancing in the rays of the golden light like tiny pixies. The little dust pixies held his attention as the last of the dream world slipped away. The fanciful notion of dust pixies faded, and Nick turned his attention to the other side of the bed, to the chair where Riley usually sat. Instead of Riley, the chair contained a slender, young cop.
The cop raised his head; a wide, genuine smile split his handsome face and lit up his hazel eyes. The contrast of his eyes with the shock of white-blond hair made him more than worthy of a second glance. Instead, Nick found himself daydreaming about what it would take to get Riley to wear his uniform, then let Nick get him out of it.
The cop leaned forward. “You must have a sixth sense. I pretty much just sat down. Jacobs called and said you were awake, but then I got here and found you sound asleep.”
Nick shifted to a sitting position, the cool sheets crinkling under him as he blinked in confusion.
He stuck out his hand. “Officer Sean Pinkers.”
Nick shook the proffered hand. The wisp of a memory of Riley saying something about calling Pinkers swirled in his head.
“Detective Roth is busy with another lead, or he would have joined us.”
“Sorry, who’s that?” Riley never mentioned Detective Roth.
“Technically, he’s the lead detective on this case, but he’s not the most personable guy. I’m not surprised Jacobs hasn’t mentioned him. However, he is good at what he does.” Officer Pinkers pulled out a small, silver recorder from his pocket and placed it on the table next to the bed. “I’m sure you’re still not feeling great, but I need to get an initial interview on record.”
“Where’s Riley?” A part of Nick expected him to be there, although, when he thought about it, he wondered if Riley left at all before he woke. He likely went home to shower and change.
“Grabbing some coffee. You want to wait?” Nick shook his head. He didn’t need Riley for this. Officer Pinkers hit play on his recorder and went through his spiel. He tried to walk Nick through what happened, but it all occurred too quickly for Nick to be much help.
“I’m sorry.” Nick shook his head again. “I really can’t remember much more.”
Officer Pinkers sighed. “It’s okay.” He hit the button on his recorder to stop it, tucking it back into his pocket and standing. “We’re done for now. Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”
The door opened, and they both swiveled their heads toward it.
“Detective Jacobs.” Nick watched Officer Pinkers’ face light up when Riley stepped through, caught the tiny hitch in his breath, the subtle straightening of his posture. Riley gave him a small smile and a nod hello.
“Pinkers. You done with the interview already?” Riley moved on silent feet to the side of Nick’s bed, two cups of coffee with steam pouring from the top in his hands. He handed one to Officer Pinkers, whose face lit up like Riley gave him the moon. Nick found it amusing, either Officer Pinkers harbored a crush on Riley or a serious case of hero worship. Even more amusing was that Riley didn’t seem to notice.
“Thank you, yes. I was just fixing to leave.” Riley wrapped an arm around Nick, drawing him into his chest for a hug. Nick squeaked in surprise. Okay, sure, Riley claimed to not be in the closet, but Nick heard horror tales about the things that happened to gay cops. He assumed that, around any of Riley’s coworkers, affection of any kind would be taboo. It may be one thing for them to know about Riley being gay, but a whole different thing for Riley to flaunt it.
“If you think of anything else, Mr. Martin, don’t hesitate to call us.” Nick shook the officer’s hand. Officer Pinkers made his way out of the room, but Nick called out to him as he reached the door.
“Wait,” Nick called out, stopping Pinkers, who turned back to him, “I just remembered something. I think I can help more.” Riley settled in the chair recently vacated and placed a hand over Nick’s on the bed. Pinkers strode back to the side of the bed, pulling out the small silver recorder. Nick shook his head.
“Um, no. Not like that. It’s just, I have a good eye for detail and a good memory. I need to in my work, and, well, I got a pretty good look at them before I passed out.” As he talked, his hand fisted the thin hospital blanket. Riley’s fingers curled around his, prying his white-knuckled grip off the bed and laced their fingers together.
“Do you think you might be able to work with a sketch artist?” Pinkers asked. “If we got an idea of what these guys look like, we can get it out to the public. Up until now, no one has ever seen them.”
Nick nodded.
“Nick, are you sure?” Concern laced Riley’s voice, and Nick shot him a reassuring smile.
“Yes, I want to do this. I need to do this, Riley.” He would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything possible to help capture these guys. A chime rang out in the room, and Riley immediately reached into his pocket, pulled out a phone, and walked toward the door as he answered it.
“Jacobs.” He walked out, but Nick heard the murmur of his voice through the cracked door.
“I’ll make arrangements for you to meet with a sketch artist. This will be very helpful. Thank you,” Pinkers claimed his attention again, and Nick nodded. Riley came back in at the same time Officer Pinkers left, the pair nodding to each other as they passed.
“I have to go,” Riley said with a heavy sigh.
“Okay,” Nick replied. His parents owned a personal security business, which meant he grew up with these kinds of sudden happenings. Riley was a cop; there was no surprise he needed to leave. Criminals didn’t work nine to five. Riley, however, appeared to believe Nick might be angry if he left.
“I-I’m sorry… I have to, I mean…” Riley stammered, his fingers picking at his pants and a flush crawling over his neck.
Nick reached out and put his hand on Riley’s ample bicep to stop his stammering. “Hey, it’s really okay. I understand. Go. Save lives, keep peace, defend justice. I’m not the only one who needs you. Just call me when you can, okay?”
Riley breathed a sigh of relief. He grabbed the hand Nick placed on his arm and squeezed it before he left. Nick watched him go, wondering who gave him a complex about being a cop.