Unbreak My Heart (Heroes of Port Dale Book 4)

by Romeo Alexander

  He pulled his phone out, looking at the time and grimacing. There was still twenty minutes left before he’d have to get out of his truck and enter the building. There was no reason for him to be nervous, he knew that. Sure, he was going to be what was essentially a rookie at the age of twenty-eight, but he was sure he wouldn’t be too far behind. Hell, the eight years of military experience had to count for something, right?

  Yet his stomach flipped, and he found himself dialing his brother’s number.

  “I wondered if I’d hear from you,” Blake said by way of a greeting.

  “Is that your way of telling me I’ve become predictable?” Blaine asked, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

  “If it was anyone but me, sure. But it’s me, so I just know you.”

  Blaine snorted softly, nodding his head, knowing that though his brother couldn’t see him, he could probably guess what Blaine was doing. Just like Blaine knew his brother was sitting in his home office, leg kicked up on the desk and smirking knowingly. Just like Blake had been the one to know Blaine was gay, well before Blaine had ever had the courage to say it aloud to anyone. And Blaine knew that Blake was considering ending it with his girlfriend, even though his brother had nothing but good things to say about her.

  It was easy to know things like that when you had shared a womb.

  “I know I’m doing the right thing,” Blaine told him.

  “Sure you are. You couldn’t hang out on mom and dad’s couch forever.”

  “Right. I need a job. I need fulfillment. I know.”

  It was the same thing he’d been told by the therapist Blake had insisted he go to. Blaine still wasn’t sold on the idea of therapy, it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. Thankfully, the good doctor didn’t want to know about the horrors of war or what bloody fights Blaine had been in while he was overseas. Instead, he was more focused on Blaine’s new and not so exciting task of being a civilian again.

  He wasn’t sure which number he was on, but the current step meant getting a job, a career. And what better than a police officer? Hell, he’d already fought to keep the peace overseas, at least that’s what he told himself. It wasn’t that big of a step to try to keep the peace at home.

  “Though, Port Dale. That one I didn’t expect,” Blake said.

  Blaine shrugged. “Bigger city, bigger problems, should keep me busy. Plus, we always liked coming here when we were kids.”

  “Yeah, we went there for a few hours at a time. Can’t say that was enough to make me want to live there,” Blake countered.

  “Well, it was either that or try to find a spot in some small town, and sorry, but I’m not dealing with small-town mentality. At least here I can just...be,” Blaine muttered.

  Blake sighed. “Blaine, they’ll...come around.”

  Blaine said nothing, scowling at his reflection in the rearview mirror. How proud his parents had been when he’d signed up to go fight someone else’s war. How his mother had wept and his father had beamed, calling their son a hero.

  And what a complete change of heart they’d had when that same son had come home, weary and tired of fighting, of hiding, and told them the truth. He’d gone from hero to disappointment in as long as it took him to say, “Guys, I’m gay.” Blaine had always known that his parents wouldn’t take well to the news, but there was a bitterness to being correct.

  “Yeah, sure,” Blaine said, flipping the visor down and opening the mirror.

  “And you know I don’t give a fuck.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “And you’re not living with them anymore.”

  “Thank God for that. My shitty one-bedroom apartment here is better than staying in my old room back home.”

  “And you’re guaranteed a spot at the station.”

  “Is there a point to be made here, Blake?”

  “Don’t be an ass.”

  Blaine closed his eyes, nodding. His brother was right. He was letting his own thoughts and nerves get the better of him. The last thing he needed was to piss off his brother, the only member of his family who would willingly look him in the eyes.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, meaning it.

  “You’re on the right path Blaine. You’re setting yourself up for a life of your own. Don’t worry about them or the rest of the family. Worry about yourself. Doors are opening for you, get walking through them.”

  “My brother, the fortune cookie,” Blaine said, smiling.

  “Damn right. I’m chock full of wisdom. Now go meet with your new chief, and try to make nice with your new partner.”

  Blaine looked himself over in the mirror. He reached up, tugging on the inch-long blond hair that dangled down across his forehead, almost to his eyes. It was strange, having hair again, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to buzz it down or let it grow out. It was neat, though, which was all that mattered for the upcoming meeting with the police chief. There wasn’t much he could do about the dark bags under his blue eyes. The stubble on his cheeks was a lost cause, and he rubbed his hand over his jaw in annoyance. Didn’t matter how well he shaved, give it a couple of hours, and he’d be sprouting coarse hair over his square jawline.

  “Yeah, I will,” Blaine told him, finger stroking the long scar on his right cheek.

  “And don’t forget to buy a shower curtain on your way back home,” Blake told him.

  Blaine laughed, opening the truck door. “Love you too.”

  Police Chief Ronald Morgan was not what Blaine had expected. He was a short man, even by the standards of Blaine, who was used to being the tallest person in the room. Despite his shortness, the older man was nearly as broad in the shoulders as Blaine and obviously took great care in his appearance, from his tidy hair to his neat mustache.

  The same could not be said for the man’s office, however. Blaine had done his best not to look around too much when he’d been ushered into the Chief’s office. Files and books were stacked everywhere, and Blaine wasn’t completely sure what the black mass at the bottom of a takeout container had originally been. He was also pretty sure he could see the corner of an ashtray by the window behind the desk.

  “An impressive history,” Chief Morgan said, peering at his computer screen.

  Blaine was honestly impressed the man could read anything off the dirty screen. He was also incredibly happy he didn’t have to touch anything. The keyboard looked crusted with weeks’ worth of old coffee and hardened sugar crystals.

  “Thank you, sir,” Blaine told him.

  Blaine wasn’t quite sure what the man could see, but he knew it was enough. The meeting with the police chief was just a formality. The job had already been offered, and Blaine had accepted. Anything else was just talking in circles, and after eight years in the military, Blaine was used to that.

  “Hmm,” Morgan grunted. “No medical warnings.”

  Blaine forced a polite smile on his face. “Other than a few old bullet holes and scars, I’m in perfect health.”

  Morgan waved a hand around his head. “And nothing, uh…”

  “No, sir. I left after my contract was set to renew. Decided it wasn’t the life for me. There’s nothing wrong with my brain. I’m sane.”

  He cringed inwardly as the police chief nodded his understanding. Blaine hated the idea that some of the soldiers who came back weren’t considered sane. Those men and women were no less sane than Blaine was, but much like the soldiers who came home without a limb, there were those who bore deep wounds in their minds. They were sane, just hurting.

  Morgan cleared his throat, pushing his keyboard away to the sound of something scraping beneath it. “Well, you couldn’t have come at a better time. We would have found a place for you anyway, but it just so happens that one of our veteran officers has decided to go...elsewhere with his career.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope,” Blaine offered.

  “Nah, just decided he didn’t want to be walking the streets with a gun anymore. It happens. But it did leave us with an ea
sy to fill spot for you to slide into.”

  “Ah, the not veteran partner.”

  “Right. Except now he’s going to be the veteran since you’re new.”

  Morgan squinted, then corrected himself.

  “Well, new to being an officer. I’m sure with your background, you’ll adjust a lot quicker than some of the guys around here did.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir.”

  Morgan snorted, pushing back from his desk to stand up. “Polite, eh? Guess that’s the military. Should be real interesting to see how your partner deals with it.”

  Blaine wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Not one for formality?”

  “Let’s just say your partner is...well, he’s a pain in the ass, is what he is. I’m not going to mince words with you, he’s a grouchy asshole.”

  Oh, goody.

  “But he’s a damned good cop, and Sam, the guy who’s left us, swears up and down that he’s a damn good partner too.”

  “A stunning endorsement,” Blaine said dryly.

  Morgan rounded the desk, squinting. “Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or you being serious. Either way, he needs a partner, and so do you. It works out. If you two can make it a week or two without killing each other, I’ll call it a success.

  Well, Blake had said he needed to keep himself busy. Blaine supposed that trying to adjust to what sounded like a pissed-off bear in human form as a partner would fit the bill nicely. Though he wasn’t so sure that’s the distraction he would have chosen for himself.

  “And I’m supposed to meet him when?” Blaine asked, standing up.

  A sharp knock came from the door behind him.

  Morgan smirked. “Only one asshole knocks like that on my door, he’s early.”

  Blaine drew himself up, unconsciously adjusting his clothes as the chief grabbed the handle and opened the door. “We talked about this, you don’t have to break my door down every time you want in.”

  “Jesus, it wasn’t that hard.”

  Blaine froze. He knew that voice. Jesus, did he know that voice. But it wasn’t possible. God couldn’t be that evil, could he?

  Morgan rolled his eyes, stepping away from the doorway. “Say hello to your new partner.”

  Growing up in a little town like Carson meant a lot of things.

  It meant not a whole lot happened in a place where everyone knew everyone else, and all their business. If you wanted excitement, you had to hope one of your friends had a car that could make the three-hour drive to Port Dale where everything happened.

  It also meant that when a new face showed up, it was obvious. In seventeen years of living in Carson, Blaine had seen people go and seen even fewer come. So when the new kid walked through the front doors of their tiny school, where all the grades were crammed together, it was kind of a big deal.

  Especially for Blaine.

  Everyone was talking about the new kid, who apparently didn’t talk much. A new student was big news for the sparse population of upperclassmen in Carson. By the time lunch had rolled around, Blaine had heard just about every rumor he thought existed about the poor guy, and he was sure more would come. A few of the girls had thought he was cute but ‘a little short’. Some of the guys thought he was an asshole because he barely spoke to anyone.

  When Blaine finally saw him for the first time, he found himself at a loss for words.

  The new kid sat under one of the many trees at the front of the school. He was scowling at absolutely nothing as he chewed on a sandwich, purposefully looking anywhere but at the mingling crowds of his fellow students.

  And Blaine? Blaine realized he wanted to make friends.

  “New kid, huh?” Blaine asked once he was close enough.

  The kid blinked up at him, puzzled for a moment, then frowning. “Yeah.”

  Blaine smiled. “That sucks.”

  “You noticed, huh?”

  “Well, when I’ve spent all morning hearing about how you were hooked on drugs, or how you killed a guy or stabbed a teacher at your last school, I kinda figured.”

  The kid rolled his eyes. “Stupid shit. I didn’t do any of that.”

  “Yeah, figured that out on my own too.”

  He looked up at Blaine again. “You seem to have a lot figured out.”

  Blain slid down the tree to sit beside him, shrugging. “You won’t believe it, but I’m actually kind of smart. I can figure shit out.”

  Dark eyes watched him carefully. “That so?”

  “It is.”

  Blaine waited a beat before holding out his hand. “Blaine. Blaine Edwards.”

  The kid’s eyes darted between Blaine’s face and his hand. His black hair hung down into his dark brown eyes. There was a sullenness to him, sure, but Blaine could see the little light of hope in his eyes too. When the kid reached out, his fingers brushing Blaine’s to shake his hand, it felt like the beginning of something special.

  “Eric,” he finally said, voice rough. “Eric…”

  “Andreas,” Morgan was saying.

  Blaine stared at Eric, just as stunned as Eric was.

  The past several years had been good to Eric. Time had cut away the baby fat from his face, leaving him a strongly defined jaw and good cheekbones. His black hair was short enough that its naturally unruly state was kept tamed. He hadn’t grown any taller, but he had filled out for sure, far bulkier than the lithe nineteen-year-old he’d last seen.

  His chest tightened as he stared at Eric, watching the emotions flash over his dark eyes. The shock gave way to confusion. The anger came next. Blaine had expected that, but not before a flicker of pain crossed Eric’s handsome features.

  Blaine stared for what felt like forever at the man who had once been his best friend. That friendship had blossomed into something so much more after they’d both graduated. Then it had all fallen apart, was torn apart, really. And Blaine could feel the gulf between them, stretching wider than the eight years that separated them could have done on its own.

  And now they were facing each other again, in the most impossible, unlikely of circumstances.

  Blaine finally found his voice. “Hello, Eric.”

  Eric

  On some level, Eric knew that the chief was talking, and possibly to him. The words never made it to his brain, drifting away on the wind before his mind could process their meaning. Instead, his attention was locked on the set of baby blues staring down at him in wide-eyed shock.

  “Hello, Eric.”

  Blaine’s words rocked through him. It was only as he recognized the familiar rumble of the man’s voice that Eric realized he’d almost convinced himself he was dreaming, or just seeing a doppelganger. But no, it was really and truly Blaine standing in front of him.

  The twenty-year-old with the final traces of childhood was gone, replaced by a man who both was and wasn’t the Blaine he’d known. Time had added a few more inches to Blaine’s former six feet, a fact that irked the slightly below average Eric. It had shaved off the remnants of a babyface, leaving a square jaw and prominent brow. He’d grown broader too, way more muscular than he’d ever been, even at the height of his high school football career. Blaine looked good, really good, in fact.

  And Eric hated it.

  “You,” Eric finally managed, voice thick and hoarse.

  It was then that he became aware of the silence that followed his proclamation. Chief Morgan stood to Eric’s right, glancing between them with a raised brow. Eric almost grimaced, knowing that neither he nor Blaine had been exactly subtle in their surprise.

  But of fucking course, he wasn’t subtle. Blaine had been gone for eight years. Hell, Eric hadn’t even known if the man had been dead or alive for most of that time. It had been better that way, easier to forget, easier to move on.

  “So,” Chief Morgan began, drawing their attention back to him. “I’m sensing a little awkwardness here.”

  “I’m glad the old detective picked up on that,” Eric said, staring down at his shoes.
/>
  “And you two know each other?”

  “Friends,” Blaine supplied.

  Eric’s lip threatened to curl upward. “Former.”

  “Right,” the chief said, drawing the word out.

  Being called friends shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, and Eric cursed himself inwardly for the jolt. Yeah, just friends, that sounded about right. It’s really all he should have been thinking about them as. After all, Blaine had preferred to run away into the mess of bullets and bombs on the other side of the damn world rather than deal with what had been in front of him.

  “Huh,” Morgan grunted. “Hadn’t seen you two were from the same town.”

  Eric sucked in a breath, refusing to let himself slide any further into his thoughts. “He my new partner?”

  He could feel the chief’s eyes on him. “That he is. Nowhere else to put him. Well, unless we’re gonna bench him until we can assign him to someone else.”

  Eric looked up then, eyes finding Blaine’s and almost sneering. There was a coldness to Blaine that hadn’t been there when they’d been younger. Apparently, going through fire and near-death experiences in the middle of nowhere had taken something from him. But Eric could still see the wariness, the tightening of the skin around his eyes.

  He’d bet Blaine was wondering if Eric would throw him back onto the bench, where he could cool his heels for weeks, maybe months, until they found someone else to partner him with. Maybe Eric would even get lucky, and Blaine would have to be transferred to another precinct, far far away from him.

  Morgan cleared his throat, backing up from them. “But I don’t want that to happen. Man’s got plenty of experience dealing with bullshit, and it shouldn’t take much to get him up to snuff with the rest of you yahoos. And even if you’re the one teaching him, I’m betting he can come out okay.”

  “Fuck you too, chief,” Eric shot at him.