“Remember, this kid was at the party of the kid killed in the other case. Lots of white kids at that party where Ty was arrested, and that’s small potatoes next to cold-blooded murder. I’m betting this is all about the Dobrevk case. In fact, if you want to do your friend Tyson a favor, maybe keep him out of it. If they know we’ve tied him to the Dobrevk case, he just became a witness—”
“And he’s in more danger than before,” Ellery said, glad AJ had moved the kid across town.
“That’s what I’m seeing,” Galen said. He eyed Jackson and Henry. “So maybe don’t mention Ty Townsend while you’re talking to the police either. The Dobrevk cops seem to be straight shooters. We should maybe only talk to them about the Dobrevk case.”
“What about getting Ty off?” Ellery asked. “Kid’s future is at stake.”
“Can you get him off just by being a stellar lawyer?” Jackson asked, batting his eyes.
“Can you maybe ask Nate Klein some questions that will help me?” Ellery retorted.
Jackson nodded. “We can do that. Nate goes on tomorrow’s list, first thing. Henry and I have to leave about thirty seconds ago if we want to do our thing at the police station in time to meet you at the jail.” He frowned. “Jade, darlin’, we have to take you home tonight, don’t we?”
“If AJ does not get his ass back with my SUV, then yes,” she said. “Did Ty make it home?”
Ellery nodded because that had been in the text. “Yes. He said he, his mom, and his dog were settling in with his sister. They got there a few minutes ago. I guess traffic was sort of a nightmare.”
Jade rolled her eyes. “Fine. Jackson, Henry, you two take the Town Car. We’ll figure out vehicular bingo while you’re gone.”
Jackson grunted. “You know, maybe I could buy another car.”
“No!” Jade and Ellery both shouted, and he grimaced. He actually had a car—a supersonically tricked-out SUV with bulletproof panels and a stripped-down interior that could bring urban assault to the finest war zones in the nation. It was not, however, fuel efficient, nor, being painted a bright pearlescent oyster color, was it inconspicuous. But Ellery couldn’t help it. Jackson hadn’t had a lot of luck with vehicles in the past year. The Tank, as they’d nicknamed it, was Ellery’s last try at buying him an SUV that he couldn’t destroy. It actually had been destroyed—and then rebuilt—and Jackson didn’t get any more cars for a while.
Besides being an expensive hobby for Ellery, it was also hard on his heart.
“Or I could continue to bum rides from everybody else,” Jackson said blandly.
Ellery regarded him with narrowed eyes. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. Doesn’t that sound like a fantastic idea, Jade?”
“Yes, Ellery. That idea sounds like it could save the universe. Henry, do you mind giving Jackson rides around town?”
Henry hadn’t been there when Jackson’s old car had been shot up, or the replacement vehicle wrecked, or the second replacement also shot up, or the Tank’s original version blown up. But apparently he still got the gist.
“Nope,” he said, giving Jackson an evil grin. “Not even a little.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “You all suck,” he said. “Just remember, not one of those cars was actually destroyed in a car wreck when I was driving.”
“Yeah, baby,” Jade told him. “That’s the takeaway from all of that.”
Jackson sobered and stood, taking the top sheet of his legal pad and a pen. “Okay. So this one’s complicated, and there’s a lot of angles. We may have to have one of these sit-downs tomorrow. Galen, I know you’ve got your own shit, but—”
“Your Detective Kryzynski is a friend,” he said, nodding. “And we have young people in danger.” He gave a thin smile. “Honestly, this is so much more exciting than corporate takeovers in Miami. I had no idea.”
Jackson nodded, and before Ellery could give a more elaborate thank-you, he said, “’Preciate it,” in that terse, hypermasculine way that seemed to mean more.
“Jackson, a moment, please?” Ellery said, standing. “Galen, Jade, I’ll be right back.”
Galen allowed one of those bland Southern smiles that told Ellery he was fooling nobody, but Ellery didn’t have any other way to do this. He ushered Jackson down the hallway and into his office and closed the door behind him. He didn’t even need to turn around before he felt Jackson’s heat, pushing him into the door.
“I don’t need to say it, do I?” Ellery asked, leaning into Jackson’s body anyway. A little more substantial than he’d felt in June. He’d put on maybe fifteen pounds, maybe even a teeny bit of healthy fat. His color—lightly tanned face, slight pink to his cheeks—was good. But Ellery only had to close his eyes to see the bluish tinge to his lips from eight weeks ago. He only had to feel under Jackson’s shirt to count his many, many scars.
“I like it when you do,” Jackson said softly, kissing the corner of Ellery’s mouth.
Ellery opened his eyes in surprise. “Really?” A year they’d been doing this. A year since Jackson had first hit on Ellery and had then retreated because Ellery wasn’t a one-night stand. A year since Ellery had first held Jackson in bed as he’d screamed through the nightmares that would probably haunt him forever.
A year since Ellery had decided that, whether Jackson knew it or not, Ellery’s job, the thing he’d really been born to do, was to take care of Jackson.
Ellery hadn’t realized how desperate he’d been to know Jackson appreciated that until right now.
“Yeah, really,” Jackson said, kissing the other corner of his mouth. He leaned close enough to whisper in Ellery’s ear, and Ellery splayed his hands across the hard definition of his chest. “Every now and then, knowing you want me to be careful is what gets me home.”
Ellery closed his eyes against the times it almost hadn’t and for a moment opened his heart to the fact that Jackson was here, now, and he was willing to be careful, just for Ellery.
“I want you home tonight,” Ellery said.
“Every night,” Jackson promised. This time, he took Ellery’s mouth for real, and Ellery allowed himself to be soothed, allowed Jackson to convince him that he was strong, that he was capable of making decisions in his own best interest and not kill himself being a hero.
He moaned a little, shaking, and when Jackson wrapped strong arms around his shoulders, they released the kiss, and he rested his head on Jackson’s shoulder.
“Hey, Counselor,” Jackson whispered. “What’s wrong?”
“I saw the blood,” Ellery said roughly, the memory surging of Jackson standing in the breezeway, staring at the EMTs with dazed eyes. “I saw the blood, and… I just….”
“Mm.” Jackson squeezed him tighter, and although Ellery was not a small man, he felt cared for. “I know. I wish I could tell you I wouldn’t trade places with him.”
“Jackson!” Ellery pulled away, alarm in his eyes, but Jackson wouldn’t back down.
“I don’t want people hurt in my place,” Jackson said, unyielding. “I keep playing it in my head. The kid vaulting the railing, me calling that he had a knife. Kryzynski’s not stupid, but the kid had some momentum, and I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t block him, I couldn’t help Sean and… and I hated it. I hated the blood and the way he was afraid and there wasn’t anything I could do.”