NASH’S PHONE had been ringing all day. All he wanted to do was get some goddamn sleep. Sam and Adam were both trying to get a hold of him, and there were calls from random numbers as well, telling him they knew he was screening and were trying to talk to him anyway.
It wasn’t going to happen.
Eventually he’d shut his phone off and tossed it onto the chair in the corner of the room, then pulled his blankets over his head and closed his eyes. He was so fucking tired he could barely stand it, but as soon as his eyes were shut, scenes from the last twenty-four hours replayed themselves in his mind.
He must have dozed off at some point, although he didn’t remember actually falling asleep, because the pounding on his door jolted him awake. He ignored it, but the knocking was insistent. He was grumpy and tired, and as he climbed out of bed to answer it, his irritability grew with each step he took.
He started yelling before he’d even gotten it open. “Look, can you please fuck off—”
He’d expected to see Sam, Adam, or maybe even Caleb standing there. He hadn’t expected a surprised-looking police officer.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“Are you Ridley Nash?” the officer asked.
“Yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you?”
“There was an incident this afternoon involving Joseph Ford.”
Nash’s heart sped up until he thought it would burst at the possibility that Ford was hurt. The cop continued before Nash could interject with questions.
“He was taken from Saint Joseph’s and held at gunpoint.”
This time he didn’t wait for an opening to ask. “Jesus Christ, is he okay? He’s not hurt, is he? Who the fuck took him?”
Nash carded his fingers through his hair, not knowing what to do first. He was standing there in his doorway, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and waiting what felt like an eternity for Officer Dipshit to tell him if Ford was okay.
Finally, the officer spoke. “He’s fine. We’ve been trying to call you. He’s down at the police station, but he’s asking for you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nash repeated. “You could have fucking led with that.”
He darted into his apartment and pulled on the first pair of pants and T-shirt he could find. He grabbed his jacket, his keys, and his shoes, then stepped out into the hall and locked the door behind him.
“You gonna put those on?” the cop asked, gesturing toward the shoes Nash held in his hands.
“In the elevator. It’s called multitasking. Let’s go,” he said urgently, hurrying the cop down the hallway.
THE POLICE station was busy, but the cop who showed up at his door, who Nash learned was named Officer Fleck, escorted him through the entranceway, past the main desk, through a maze of desks and cubicles, and toward the back of the precinct.
They stepped into an office Nash could only assume was Jack’s, and sitting on the sofa facing the desk was Ford. He looked small and scared, and he was wrapped in a soft gray blanket that was definitely not police issue.
Nash rushed over and pulled Ford from his seat, right into his arms. The blanket dropped, and then the only thing wrapped around him was Nash. Ford trembled against him, and Nash held him tighter, pressing his lips to Ford’s temple. They were going to have to pry him off with the Jaws of Life, because he was never letting go again. Ever.
“What happened? Are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Did they ask?”
“I’m fine,” Ford assured him, settling his head against Nash’s chest. “Greene murdered Joel, and he thought I knew it was him. He held me at gunpoint and forced me into his car. Jack got there before he could hurt me.”
Nash slid his fingers through Ford’s hair, stroking and petting and just holding him, making sure for himself he was okay. After Ford started talking, he’d barely heard the words over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. The thought of something happening to him… it was too horrible to think about.
“You’re sure you’re fine….”
“I am. Really.” Ford paused, his voice going quiet. “Thank you for coming. I… I’m sorry… about before.”
Nash slid his hands along Ford’s face, cupping it and lifting as he leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Of all their kisses, this one was by far the sweetest, standing in a busy police station, with what felt like a hundred people watching them through the window of the office.
Jack cleared his throat, and Nash reluctantly pulled away. They turned toward the desk, but Nash never loosened his hold on Ford.
“Ford answered all my questions while we were waiting for you to get here, but I imagine you have questions for me,” Jack said, addressing them both.
Ford took a deep breath and slid his hand into Nash’s. Nash curled his fingers around Ford’s. “How did you know where to find me?”
“The GPS on your phone. As soon as I finished talking to Sam, I got your message, but the call also recorded Greene hitting you.”
“He took my phone.”
“He obviously doesn’t watch many cop shows, because he tossed it in his car rather than leaving it on the ground. I’m guessing your abduction was not well thought out. He was backed into a corner, thinking you knew what he’d done.”
“I didn’t, though. I thought it was Peter….”
“He didn’t know that. All he heard was that you knew who’d killed Joel.”
“He’s going to jail?”
“He most definitely is. He’s lawyered up. We’re waiting on the attorney to arrive now, and then I’ll lead the interrogation,” Jack said, the confidence rolling off him. His assuredness made Nash feel calmer.
“Is Ford in any danger?” Nash asked. If Greene had a partner, and that psycho thought Ford knew anything that could implicate him….
“To be honest, we’re not completely sure, but we’ll have an officer posted outside Ford’s apartment until we’re certain.”
Ford cocked one eyebrow. “Because that worked out so well the last time.”
Jack had the decency to look embarrassed. Nash looked at Ford, one eyebrow raised, and when Ford gave him a small smile, Nash turned back to Jack.
“He’s coming home with me.”
“That’s fine,” Jack assured them. “We will do everything humanly possible to keep Ford safe. There will be round-the-clock surveillance, and I am a phone call away if you even get an inkling that something might be wrong.”
“Greene killed all the others too?” Nash asked.
“It’s likely. We’re gathering evidence against him now. We have officers searching his home and his office, looking for anything we can use to link him to the boys or to anyone else who might have been involved.” A tense silence passed through the office. “If you don’t have any more questions, you’re free to go home. I’ll have Officer Fleck take you.”
“Yeah,” Ford said. “I just want to go home.”
Jack stood and walked to his door, then motioned out into the main room. Officer Fleck appeared in the doorway a moment later.
“Fleck, can you please take these two home, and don’t leave until there’s another uniform there to relieve you. I’ll arrange for someone to be there as soon as possible.”
“No problem,” Fleck said.
“Great. And Ford, I’ll be in touch soon to let you know what happens with Greene.”
“Thanks, Jack. I appreciate that.”
Nash stood, pulling Ford with him. “Thanks, Detective.”
Jack cocked half a smile in return.