by Ella Frank
Bailey bit down into his toast, letting that information sink in. “About that bogus charge. I can’t believe you were actually paying someone for sex.”
Henri rubbed his foot up the back of Bailey’s calf. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
Bailey grinned. “And I’m going to need you to explain.”
Henri let out a sigh and ran a hand over the shadow lining his chin. “Fair enough. I was out looking for information that night, not sex. I’d dealt with this one particular guy—Scooter—a few times, and we had an understanding. Money in exchange for information. Your brother, however, saw things differently, and being the dick—sorry—the hard-ass that he is, he wouldn’t listen to shit and saw an opportunity.”
Bailey grimaced. That sounded like Sean. Obstinate, frustrating, and so damn self-righteous that it made Bailey’s teeth ache. The world was either black or white to Sean, and he followed his police procedural handbook as though it were a Bible. Good versus bad, and Henri fell into the bad category for Sean, the one place he could never quite see past.
It was one of the things their father had been most proud of with his eldest boy. It was also the thing that had caused Sean to work himself to the bone and drink far too much after their parents had passed. The summer black and white had mixed into an ugly shade of grey. The summer the Bailey boys had learned that just because someone is revered as a hero, that didn’t mean they weren’t flawed.
“Look,” Henri said. “I know this is the last thing you expected to have to deal with today, so if you’d rather I leave so you can call your brother back, just say the word and I’ll get out of your hair.”
But Bailey didn’t need Sean to confirm anything. He believed everything that had just come out of Henri’s mouth more than he would from his biased brother’s.
“I don’t want that. I told you, I wanted to talk to you first. I’ll deal with Sean later.”
“Yeah.” Henri picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I have a feeling I will be too.”
“Right. So, the two of you are working on something together right now?”
“Yes.” Bailey knew Henri wasn’t able to give specifics. But then he added, “I’d just left a meeting with him that day you pulled me over.”
Bailey thought back to that morning. The rain, the shock, the confusion over his… “Ahh, okay. That’s why you were acting so strange when I told you my name.”
Henri scoffed. “You could say that. One minute I was trying to wrap my brain around the fact that the guy I’d been dreamin’ about had pulled me over for speeding, and the next minute you were telling me your name and it was the same as Detective Dick’s. I felt like I’d fallen down a fucking rabbit hole.”
Detective Dick? Ha, that actually fits Sean pretty well. But instead of focusing on that and all the other important questions he probably should be asking, Bailey’s mind got caught up on the fact this was the second time Henri had admitted to dreaming about him after that night up in Oshkosh. “About that night of the wedding…?”
Henri eyed him closely. “Yeah?”
Bailey sat back in his seat and debated whether he was actually going to ask this. But then he told himself to just do it. Go ahead and finally ask what you’ve wondered about ever since it happened.
So he did.
“Why did you leave that night? Was it something I did?”
FOR SOMEONE WHO wasn’t used to opening up and spilling his guts, Henri thought he might just deserve a medal for the way he hadn’t up and bolted out of Bailey’s kitchen. But as he stared across the table into a face he was quickly becoming addicted to, Henri knew he would tell Bailey whatever the fuck he wanted to hear, just to sit with him a little longer.
But that brought him back to the question at hand: Why did you leave that night?
The simple answer was Priest. Henri had left because his ex-boyfriend had texted him and gotten under his skin. But how in the hell was he supposed to explain the complexities of his relationship with Priest to Bailey? Someone he was trying to…date?
Wasn’t that some kind of unspoken rule? Don’t bring up your ex too soon? Because no matter which way Henri tried his answer out in his head, it didn’t sound good.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Henri said. “It was a dick move to leave you like that. I’d want to know why too. But the answer is…complicated, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Bailey wrapped his hands around his mug and tapped his finger on the rim. “It was because of Priest, right?”
Shocked that Bailey had hit the nail on the head, Henri tried to think of the easiest way to sum up what he and Priest shared. “Truth, right?”
Bailey swallowed as though he wasn’t sure he liked that arrangement now, but nodded anyway.
“Then yes, it was because of Joel. But not because of some secret love affair or anything like that. He’s disgustingly happy with his husbands—plural now—and I’m happy for him. It’s just…we have a complicated history that’s messy and ugly and has been such a big part of my life that sometimes it’s hard to keep it in the past where it belongs, and that day was…difficult for me.” He thought about that for a second. “Hell, who am I kidding. That day fucking sucked. But then I ran into you, and you were like this, I don’t know, bright spot amongst all the dark.”
Henri raised his eyes, worried that Bailey was freaking out about the whole Priest deal, but that wasn’t the case at all. Surprise and pleasure was swirling in those blue eyes, and that expression made every word Henri had just struggled to say worth it.
“I don’t want to get into all that ex stuff now, not when we’re just starting out here. But I need you to know that me acting like a shit that night had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Leaving you that night? It was one of my biggest regrets, and when I ran into you again, I knew nothing was going to get in the way of seeing you again. Even after I realized all the ways this was going to get…complicated.”
Bailey licked his lips. “Meaning my brother?”
“Your brother. The fact that you’re a cop and I’m—”
“A private investigator and CI for the Chicago Police Department?”
Bailey’s words were not wrong, but Henri couldn’t help but think his cop was missing the real point. It wasn’t quite as black and white as all of that.
“I was going to say: a guy with a rap sheet as long as your arm. You told me not to lie to you, but be sure you’re not lying to yourself too, okay? I know who and what I am. I have bridges, walls, and fucking moats between me and people like you—the good people. I have them there for a reason. Shit, maybe you should listen to your brother.”
Bailey said nothing, slid out of his side of the breakfast nook, and took his empty plate to the sink. After he rinsed it off, he leaned back against the counter and looked at Henri.
“Ask me out on another date.”
Henri smiled, and when Bailey continued to eye him, he slid out from the table and walked over to Bailey.
Henri took hold of Bailey’s waist, pulled him in close, and wrapped his arms around him. “When’s your next double off?”
Bailey looped his arms up around Henri’s neck. “Not tomorrow, but the night after.”
“Pack a bag. Come to my place. Spend it with me.”
Bailey pulled back, disbelief in his eyes. “I just meant a date. You don’t have to—”
“Bailey?”
“Hmm?”
Henri brushed their lips together and whispered, “I want you to come to my place, eat my food, and sleep in my bed.”
“Then I’ll be there. But Henri? I feel like I should warn you. Those walls of yours? I’m going to climb them. And those bridges? I’m going to be the one who burns them down.”
The look in his eyes told Henri that Bailey meant every single word he’d just said, and all of Henri’s greatest hopes and fears rushed to the surface.
Because he’d never had anyone look at him that way be
fore. As though he were everything Bailey had ever been waiting for. As though he’d said all the right things, even though he felt like he’d screwed it all up somehow.
All that Henri could hope for now was that if, and when, this all went up in flames, Bailey would still want him when the ashes finally settled.
Chapter Five
CONFESSION
Fighting with my brother
is our version of “I love you.”
THE WIND WAS howling the following morning, as Bailey pulled his Camaro into the back lot of Deb’s diner, where most of the cops from his precinct gathered after shift when they wanted half an hour to themselves to wind down.
It was just now turning eight thirty, and after debating all of yesterday and last night, he had begrudgingly agreed to meet up with Sean just as he said he would. He wasn’t looking forward to it, though, and as he shoved the car door open and the sharp bite of the wind slapped him in the face, Bailey grimaced and reached for the zipper of his department jacket.
As he tugged the thing up, he wound a scarf around his neck and burrowed his chin in deep. He slammed the door shut and hurried over to the sidewalk that led between two buildings to the front door of the diner. He was cold, hungry, and tired, and the last thing he wanted to deal with this morning was Sean and his pious opinions.
So Henri was a little rough around the edges, had a few brushes with the law to his name. It wasn’t like he’d hidden that from Bailey, nor had he lied when Bailey had asked him about it. Plus, it wasn’t as if Henri could exactly keep it from Bailey. He was a cop, for God’s sake, and Henri’s record was right there for him to see. So this holier-than-thou routine Sean was pulling was more than a little irritating, not to mention insulting.
Did he really think Bailey would hook up with someone who was seriously bad news? That wasn’t exactly his style. He usually gravitated toward the good guys. The “take them home to your family and marry them” kind of guys.
Shit, Xander had been right on with that one, hadn’t he? In the past, the one thing that Bailey had required to make him think about getting into bed with someone was the remote possibility that there could be a future. But one look at Henri and he hadn’t cared what tomorrow would bring. Bailey just knew he wanted Henri any way he could have him.
That had since changed, however. Now, he wanted Henri in every way. As Bailey pulled open the door to Deb’s, he scanned the sea of familiar faces until he saw his brother, who had snagged a booth in the back corner and already had a pot of coffee and two mugs sitting on the laminate table in front of him.
Bailey weaved his way through the tables, acknowledging several of the other guys with a quick wave or nod, and when he finally reached Sean and stopped, his brother looked up.
Jesus, he looked rough. Tired, bloodshot eyes. A couple days’ scruff. His suit jacket was crumpled to shit, and his tie was half undone. Every time Bailey saw Sean like this, he couldn’t help but see their father staring back at him, and that scared the hell out of him.
“Sean,” Bailey said as he slid into the seat opposite his brother.
“Bay, hi.”
Okay, so it seemed Sean had simmered down a little since yesterday, or maybe he’d just run out of gas, finally hit the “I’m too fucking tired to care anymore” wall. Either way, Bailey was happy he wasn’t face to face with a scowl.
“Hi,” Bailey said as he unwound his scarf and unzipped his jacket. “You been waiting long?”
“Nah, ’bout ten minutes.”
“Okay.” Bailey looked over to the counter and snagged the waitress’s attention, then turned back to Sean. “You order already?”
Sean shook his head. “Not really hungry.”
Bailey picked up the menu and eyed his brother over the top of it. “When was the last time you ate?” Sean’s brow creased as though he were trying to remember, and Bailey shook his head. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. I’m just caught up in this case I’m working and I forgot, that’s all.”
Deciding on the homestyle scramble and hash brown potatoes, Bailey put the menu down. “I don’t think that’s it at all.”
“Yeah, well, your judgment isn’t exactly the best these days, now is it? Tell me, Bay, what the fuck are you thinking hooking up with someone like Boudreaux?”
Aaand there it was. Bailey sat back in his seat and placed an arm across the table, drumming his fingers on the Formica in an effort to rid himself of the irritation that had just bypassed his concern for his brother.
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you about Henri if you tell me what the hell is going on with you, and what you wanted to talk to me about before you lost your mind yesterday.”
Sean’s mouth opened, but before he could repeat the same lie, Dawn, the waitress, stopped by their table and said, “Hey, boys, what can I get you this morning?”
Bailey glanced her way and made sure to aim a smile in her direction. It wasn’t like he was annoyed at Dawn, and it wasn’t fair to take his mood out on an innocent bystander. “Hey there. I’m going to go with the homestyle scramble and potato hash. And he’ll have the same, thanks.”
“I’m not—”
Bailey pinned Sean with a look that said zip it, and for once in his life, Sean did.
“Got it,” Dawn said, looking between the two. “Any juice? Another pot of coffee?”
“Yeah,” Bailey said. “I’ll grab an OJ and definitely another pot. You’re the best.”
Dawn winked and shoved her pen behind her ear. “That’s what they tell me. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Will do,” Bailey said, and after she’d left the table, he turned back to Sean. “So, what’ll it be? We going to talk about the reason you actually came to see me yesterday? Or are you going to keep being a dick? In which case, I’m more than happy to sit here and talk about the weather until you get bored.”
Sean grunted as he looked Bailey over. “Wow. I see Boudreaux’s already rubbing off on you. I can’t remember the last time you—”
“Called you out on your shit?”
Sean’s eyes widened. But it was true. For so many years Bailey had watched Sean work himself into the ground and idly stood by, feeling it wasn’t his place to tell his brother how to live his life.
But if Sean was going to dish out relationship advice, then Bailey thought it only fair he got a little wake-up call. The fact that neither of them were indifferent to the possibility of pain and heartbreak being inflicted on the other still showed they cared. It was just crazy that it had been Henri who jump-started the heartbeat of this brotherly bond.
It was a surprise all three of them hadn’t seen coming, but one they now had to deal with. Because as far as Bailey was concerned, Henri was going nowhere, and Sean needed to get on board with that.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Bailey nodded. “Well, I’m calling you out now. What’s going on? And don’t tell me nothing. Don’t tell me it’s just this case, because I won’t believe you.”
Sean let out a sigh and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I’m stuck.”
Bailey knew how much those two words had cost Sean to say.
He twisted his lips into a scowl and shook his head. “I’ve got three dead girls, not one solid lead, and the guy I know is responsible for this? I’ve got nothing on him. I’m stuck. And I’m never fucking stuck.”
Bailey could feel the frustration rolling off his brother in waves, and as Dawn approached with the coffee and juice, she must’ve sensed it too, because she quickly placed the items down and hightailed it away from the table.
Sean was back to looking out the window. As Bailey examined him closer, he knew he needed to ask this next question before they continued. It was the one thing he wouldn’t tolerate if he was going to offer up his help. But breaching the topic was going to make the tension at the table reach nuclear levels.
Oh well, here goes nothing. “Have you been drinking this morning?”
&
nbsp; Sean whipped his head around and cut his eyes to Bailey’s, the frustration from a second ago turning to anger. “What did you just say to me?”
Bailey swallowed around the lump lodged at the back of his throat and couldn’t help but remember all those times he and Sean had gotten into fights as boys. Being three years older than him, Sean had always been bigger. But Bailey had always been quicker on his feet, nimbler, and right now he would give anything to be able to duck a punch and make a run for it.
But no, he needed to stay the course here, and Sean needed to answer him.
Bailey schooled his features, refusing to be intimidated. “I asked you if you’ve been drinking this morning.”
“What kind of fucking question is that?”
“Based on how you look? Not a strange one.” Bailey shifted in his seat and leaned across the table. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress the past couple of months, with work and these cases, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Kieran cornered me at the last dinner, and he’s worried too.”
“Oh, gimme a break. Kieran’s too busy slipping in and out of every Chicago socialite’s bed since he was crowned hottest fireman to notice anyone, unless she has legs up to her armpits and hair down past her ass.”
Yeah, that was true, but at least Kieran was staying out of trouble and having fun doing it. Bailey often envied Kieran, the youngest of the three of them. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and seemed happier for it. So who were they to judge?
“We’re not talking about Kieran,” Bailey said. “We’re talking about you. And you still haven’t answered me.”
“Because I find your question fucking offensive.”
“Because you’ve been drinking?”
“Because it’s none of your damn business.” Sean’s tone was so frosty that Bailey was shocked icicles hadn’t formed on the table between them. After an epic stare-off, Bailey shrugged.
“Okay. Then we’ll eat and I’ll leave you to it.”
“What? You’re not going to help me?”