Chapter Five

 

Cade was going crazy having the man so close. They weren’t touching with more room at the table with only the four of them this morning. It really didn’t matter. He couldn’t stop staring.

Dean’s hands were tanned, his nails clean and cut square. He knew without looking that his eyes were green; a mixture of green and gray, but very green. Finger-length, not quite jet-black hair. He was nearly as tall as Cade, too. Not as broad in the shoulders, but clearly fit. He’d seen what he looked like in a tight T-shirt that first night at Gemini’s.

And why the fuck did all of that suddenly make his wolf go crazy? He stabbed at food on his plate. He liked women. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t found one in a long time that turned him on. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t find any that attracted him, physically. His wolf didn’t have to connect with every single person he met!

Apparently, he’d connected with Dean. Full-on, no holds-barred. Mate.

He ground his jaw.

And Chris was giving him that stare again.

“What did I do now?” he asked in exasperation.

“You’re growling.”

Cade started, sitting straight. “Oh… Uh. Sorry.” He lowered his chin. Chris was going to take his head off for that. He hadn’t been aware.

“I really appreciate the invite,” Dean was saying. “But…” He stared at Cade, something sad and pitying in his gaze that sliced Cade in half. “It’s pretty clear to me that Cade has issue with my being here.”

“Dean—”

He shook his head, silencing Jamie. “I don’t know why being gay, being friends with your gay brother is such a problem for you,” he said right to Cade. “You’re hot and cold, a friend, then an utter ass, and honestly, I don’t have time or brain power to deal with you. I came as Jamie’s guest this morning, not yours.”

He turned on his seat and started eating again. Completely dismissing Cade.

Cade opened his mouth to apologize, but Chris’ quiet snarl froze him solid.

Shit. Yeah, he was going to get it.

Chris stood from the table. “Let me see if I can find that business card. Excuse me.”

Cade saw him go. He wanted to roll under the table. Chris was a loving brother, but shit, Cade was acting like an ass towards Chris’ guest. Yeah, that wasn’t going to win him any brotherly love.

“Be right back.” He followed Chris, knowing it was exactly what Chris expected.

He closed the office door behind him, watching Chris flip through files in a cabinet drawer.

“Want to explain that to me?” Chris asked without looking up.

“Want to? No.”

“Since when has being gay ever been an issue in this household?” The suppressed fury iced Chris’ voice.

“Never!” Cade barked under his breath, keeping their argument quiet. Hearing Chris’ pain stung. He’d caused that.

Chris smacked the drawer closed, the hunted for card in his fingers. “Then start talking.”

Cade sagged against the closed door, his eyes closing in denial. “I’m not gay.”

“What’s that got to do—” The snap of the question died, the scowl leaving his brow as realization spread over his features. “You can’t fight the wolf. They do know. As far as I know, they’re never wrong, either.” Silence lengthened. “Have you ever thought of a man, sexually?”

He shook his head hard.

“Why not? Even curiosity happens.”

“Quade and I—”

Chris held up his hand. “Stop. Right there. You are two different people. Always have been. Always will be. Do you still find women attractive?”

He wanted to say yes so badly, but lying wouldn’t do anything but add to the confusion he felt. “No,” he croaked.

“How long ago was your last…?” Chris didn’t finish it. Cade was grateful for that, at least. Whether it was girlfriend or screw, Cade didn’t need it spelled out for him.

“Two years. I thought it was me. I thought she was right around the corner and the wolf was telling me to back off Laura. He’s been deader than wood until…” He tipped his head in the general direction of the kitchen.

“And now he’s all wood, huh?”

Cade snorted. “Crude, bro.”

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Cade nodded without adding to it.

“All this fighting you’re doing is going to drive him away. He thinks you hate him. Even I can see that.”

“But—”

“Do you like him? In any way?”

“He’s a friend.”

Chris let out a breath, patience smoothing the pinched lines around his mouth. “Then start there. So he’s a guy. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I want kids,” he choked out, imploring through the pain. “I want a son. I can’t be gay! How do I have kids if I’m with…” He tossed a hand angrily. “Him?”

Wide gray eyes filled his vision. “Is that… Cade?” Chris cupped his shoulder. “You’ve been in denial your whole life?”

Cade covered his face with spread palms. His world was falling apart. He had no idea anymore. Was it denial? He wanted to claw out his eyeballs with frustration. He didn’t know! “What am I going to do?”

Chris gathered him against his chest. “Give nature a chance. You may get more than you could ever dream of.” He ran fingers over Cade’s scalp, brushing through his hair. “I know I did.”

“But—”

Chris rocked him. “No. You can’t use that argument. There are ways.”

“I don’t know how,” he whispered, swallowing through a tight throat.

“Never even kissed?”

He shook his head, utterly drained. His entire life he’d known what he wanted, and how to get it. He’d gone to school, learned, and excelled. He’d known since he was in his early twenties that he wanted kids. Making those kids required something he didn’t have. He had no option but to find a woman, and he’d lived his life to see the future he wanted happen. He’d expected his mate to be female. She didn’t have to be pack. It would be harder, but he knew he could do it. Chris had with Jamie. He’d never looked at men this way. A man couldn’t give him what he wanted most: children. He’d never thought it would happen like this.

Now it didn’t matter.

Suddenly his wolf was throwing the gauntlet and shattering all of the walls Cade had surrounding himself.

“First, you need to really apologize. Get your head on straight. He’s had a shock and a half today and if you keep acting stupid, he’ll never believe a word you offer from here on out.”

Cade shuddered, collecting himself once more.

“Second, if he is a friend, then be one for him. Help him.”

“You’re right.” Cade swallowed thickly, trying to gather his shattered soul. He had no idea how to deal with this, but it wasn’t Dean’s fault. Taking it out on the man was wrong, on so many levels.

“And I never, ever, want to hear you say anything that compares yourself to Quade, or to even me. I know you two have this little private battle going on. There is no battle. You are an awesome brother. Always have been. Quade did nothing to make you that way.”

Relenting, because he needed it as much, he looped arms around Chris and squeezed. “You sound like Jamie.”

“Because he’s taught me what it means to speak from the heart. He’s so much more than I deserve.” He let Cade go. “Now, take a minute to clear your head and then we’re going to help Dean with this.”

Cade released a harsh exhale, the weight of the world in it. “Be right there.”

Chris slipped past him through the doorway, leaving it cracked. A subtle reminder that he couldn’t stay in there.

He couldn’t hide, and he really needed to quit taking his issues out on Dean.

He hoped an apology would be good enough.

 

* * * *

Dean reached for the offered card when Chris returned. “Give this guy a call first thing in the morning. No idea when he’ll get the case but establishing contact with him lets him know you’re on the ball.”

“Detective Gentry. Okay.” He slid the card in his wallet.

“He was really detailed when we had issues last summer.”

“What happened?” Dean slowly ate what was left on his plate. He’d been talking quietly with Jamie waiting for the two brothers to return. So far, only Chris was back.

“We had a drug dealer using our supply shed as a hiding place for his production paraphernalia. One of his cooking batches went bad and torched the shed.” Chris motioned toward where Dean had hid the card. “He got down and dirty, found loose boards, and a dug out hole in the ground under the shed. Between those and syringes Jamie spotted, we got fingerprints.”

“He’s been arrested?”

“Yes. And charged to within an inch of his life.”

That was good news for Dean. The man they were describing wasn’t going to cheat on anything to shortchange him. He knew there was always suspicion on owners first whenever there was insurance involved. All he wanted was to have his bar back.

The chair at his side slid quietly away from the table, distracting him.

Cade looked worn down when he scooted close to the table. He didn’t know what Chris and he had discussed, but if Cade’s expression was any indication, he’d been read the riot act, possibly twice.

“Have you taken any pictures?”

The question startled Dean. “Of what?”

“The bar.” Cade twisted on his chair. “You’re going to want pictures before they start digging around and definitely before they bring it down.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure it was safe to be inside now. He’d have to talk to Kelly and see if he thought it was a good idea. “I’m not allowed to take anything from the building.”

Cade shook his head. “You won’t. But the pictures are to protect yourself. It’ll be a while for the insurance to do their investigation as well. If there’s any discrepancies, you’ll have the oldest set of photos.”

“It’s already been…” He found a lit clock on the stove. “About six hours since it was reported.”

“Then you should go when you’re done here,” Jamie suggested. “Take pictures of damaged stock, from as many angles as you can, with timestamps on everything. That’s what Chris had to do to claim all the inventory we lost in the shed. The insurance company can’t argue visual evidence of damaged stock.”

It did sound like a good idea. If nothing else, for his own peace of mind. “I don’t have a digital camera.”

Cade sipped on his drink, then put it down. “If you’ll let me help, I have one.”

“Help?” he asked, in doubt-filled disbelief.

Cade slowly nodded. “As in, not be an ass.”

Dean smirked. “Can you? Not be an ass?”

Cade huffed, though humor warmed his features. “I’ll do my best.”

“Let me call Sheriff Archer and make sure the building is sound enough to walk through. If he says we can, we’ll go after we’re done eating.”

Cade nodded his agreement.

An hour later, after talking to Kelly and the insurance company to let them know what he was planning, Cade followed him to Cassan. Cade knew where the bar was, but Dean was getting tired. He wanted to go home to bed and didn’t argue Cade driving himself. He’d been up for nearly twenty hours already. On top of the stress of that morning and the full shift of the night before, he was fading fast.

Snow and mud had thickened to a raw sludge on the ground outside. It would become ice overnight.

“This was a good idea. There’s no telling if this will be able to hold up under ice now, or more snow.”

Cade stood at his shoulder, the small camera in his hand.

“Let’s go around back. I don’t know if this door is safe. The rear one is gone.” It had been kicked in by the firefighters when they were battling the waves of the fire.

Cade followed as Dean led the way around the square structure, stepping under the yellow caution tape that was strung around the perimeter outside. A small side storage unit was charred but for the most part, intact. Cade started taking photos.

“Watch for weak spots and don’t push on anything,” Dean warned leading them through the door. “This goes right into the storage room. Trucks unloaded back here, so stuff is going to be spilled, and there’s lots of exploded glass.” He’d already seen most of what they were walking through before he’d finally left that morning.

Blackened wood was burned almost all the way through around where the door had once stood. The alcohol had added to the fire. It broke his heart seeing all the damage in the full light of day.

“What a mess,” Cade muttered, carefully following in Dean’s footsteps.

“Remember, don’t move anything from where it is.”

“Not sure I want to.”

Water dripped from the ceiling, melted snow and water from who knew where, leaking through the now destroyed roof. Cade shot angles of the entirety as they went under it.

“The worst of it is the bar itself. I’m positive whoever it was used something like gasoline to get it going hot and fast.” He pointed to the scorch marks on the bar, then to the streaks along the floor and the ceiling. “Once it got that high, the ceiling went up in flames. All dry, old wood. By the time the fire department got here, this was engulfed.” He motioned above and around. Not a single bottle remained standing on display. They’d all been displaced or exploded.

“Man, Dean. You’d only locked up a little before this happened, right?”

“Maybe twenty minutes. The New Year’s Eve party took forever to close down. They’d stopped drinking but getting them out of here…” He laughed with tired ruefulness. “Could’ve really used my bouncer last night.”

Cade’s hand with the camera lowered. He swept a hard look around the interior. “What if you’d still been here? Were you the last one out?”

“I sent Garret home about ten minutes before myself. I was counting the night’s receipts for the deposit. Then I locked up and went home. I had literally just crawled into bed when the alarm company bothered to call me.”

The building creaked ominously as cold wind bursts and water combined to make damaged wood shake and rattle.

Cade stared upward with him. “I see what you mean. That roof isn’t going to hold up under any snowfall.” Cracked and split beams proved the fire had been intense. Gaping spots exposed wiring and nails. It looked naked.

Dean took a step forward. “Look straight up.” Cade did, bending to gaze where Dean pointed from the bar’s damaged flat surface. “That hole is why I think there was something used to speed it along. There was nothing here on its own that would cause a pocket like that.”

Cade straightened and took pictures of the bar beneath it and the hole itself. “These marks look even too, almost a perfect circle of the deep char.”

“I thought the same thing.” He groaned with realization. “And I bet I know what it was. A pile of rags. I had cleaning rags in the store room. I didn’t think of them until mentioning them, but I bet they’re gone.” Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Let me get some large view shots, and then we’ll go.”

“Sure,” Dean replied, being careful to not touch anything. He was already coated in soot from walking around in it. A hot shower to warm up and get all this off his skin sounded pretty damn fantastic.

Cade took slow, methodical steps around the bar, even taking a panorama of the serving trench and all the damage it had sustained. All the decorative glass on the walls was destroyed. Hanging racks were knocked loose or simply shattered, leaving glassware dangling precariously. There wasn’t an inch of space that hadn’t been in flames, charred and burned to a crisp, sickening black. Dean’s entire life, gone, in a matter of minutes.

Cade stopped in the middle of the floor. Tables were turned over with a few in pieces, chairs scattered around them, everything lying in puddles of water. He stepped over one, then stopped, twisting to focus on something.

“Did you hear that?”

Dean tipped his head. “What did you hear?” He didn’t hear a thing. The wind. Dripping water, the little that there was. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Footsteps.” Cade spun slowly, as though following the sound. “And a car.” He was scowling.

“Probably the cops outside wondering who’s here. Let me—” was as much as he could say because there was a wet squelch of tires followed by the thunderous crack of a stud being wrenched out of place.