Unbreak My Heart (Heroes of Port Dale Book 4)

by Romeo Alexander

  “Who’ve you been talking to?”

  Morgan rolled his eyes, leaning back against the door. “I don’t have to talk to anyone to know what’s going on in my precinct.”

  “It was David, wasn’t it?” Eric accused.

  Honestly, the man was as nosy as he was useless. Eric had never met a man who could do so little and still know so much. He was convinced the only reason the front desk worker even had the dispatch radio nearby was so he could be nosy about the city’s business as well as everyone else’s.

  Morgan rolled his eyes. “And mostly because everyone’s talking about the fact that you’ve barely talked in the past two weeks. And everyone’s avoiding talking to you, which only happens on bad days.”

  “So? It’s better that way.”

  “Bad days. Not two weeks, going on three soon.”

  Eric took another drink. “Look, we’re just...having some personality differences.”

  “And here I’d hoped your old history together might make the transition smoother,” Morgan said with a sigh.

  “Apparently not.”

  “Well, it’s been long enough. I’ve already talked to Edwards, so now I’m going to ask your opinion.”

  He’d already talked to Blaine? Eric wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  “Okay,” Eric said slowly. “On what?”

  Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “We have the opportunity to get you two new partners.”

  “I thought we were all you had?”

  “That was true two weeks ago. But there have been transfer requests from a couple of other precincts. One a newbie, one a vet.”

  “One each for Blaine and me,” Eric murmured.

  “That’s the idea. So, do we separate you two as a lost cause?”

  It was exactly what had been humming through Eric’s mind before. It was obvious he was never going to be comfortable with Blaine. Honestly, Eric was a little surprised that Blaine was tolerating it as well as he was. Eric knew he was going overboard, but every time he tried to soften, to pull it back, his gut would clench and he’d remember how he’d been left behind.

  “What did Blaine say?” Eric asked, curious.

  “I’m not telling you, and you know that.”

  Eric hummed, turning to his phone as it buzzed twice and fell silent. He picked it up and wondered what Blaine had told him.

  Morgan shrugged. “You both have to agree to stay. If one says they want to go, then I’m ending it anyway.”

  “So he said he wants to go,” Eric said, unlocking his phone to a text from Sean.

  “Or he could want to stay. I’m not asking one without asking the other, Andreas. Answer the question.”

  He tapped the screen, stalling for time. He could be rid of Blaine, once and for all. Maybe not for good, the guy would still work at the precinct. But it would be so much easier to tolerate him without him being at Eric’s side constantly.

  His eyes scanned the text from his brother and froze.

  He still looks at you like that fyi.

  Eric’s throat squeezed shut as he reread the line over and over again. Blaine did what? Eric had seen nothing, but even he had to admit that he did his best not to look at Blaine when he could avoid it.

  “Andreas. I don’t have all day.”

  Eric swallowed hard, locking his phone.

  “Stay,” he heard himself stay.

  Morgan’s brow rose nearly to his hairline. “Really?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “Interesting.”

  What the hell was he doing? The answer had been right there.

  Morgan snorted, opening the door. “Then, partners you’ll stay.”

  Eric looked up, unable to keep his surprise off his face. “Chief?”

  Morgan shrugged. “For whatever reason or another, apparently Edwards is fine putting up with your shit. My advice to you? I’d shape up and do something about your attitude. There aren’t too many people who’d be willing to put up with your shit for this long if they weren’t staying around.”

  “Sir?” Blaine’s voice echoed from down the hall. “Can I get back to my office now? I still have paperwork.”

  “He says as if it ever stops,” Morgan chuckled. “Think about it, Andreas.”

  Eric’s eyes were on his phone as Blaine entered. His partner glanced at him as he walked in, and Eric almost looked up. Would that look be on Blaine’s face, or would that neutral, unreadable expression be there again?

  And just why should he give a shit?

  Blaine

  Another work week passed, and Blaine still didn’t feel like he’d got his two feet on the ground quite yet. He’d managed to finish most of his unpacking, though there really hadn’t been that much to unload. He was going to have to find some time over the weekend to buy some more things if only to make his apartment to look like less of a bachelor pad.

  Sighing, he tapped the edge of his keyboard rhythmically and stared at the screen. There’d been another fire and another casualty as well. A former hunting lodge themed resort had burned to the ground. The entire building was gutted by the fire and had collapsed into the basement. The only body found in the remains had been one Anthony Howell, identifiable only by dental records.

  Their arsonist wasn’t stopping, and now they’d taken a beloved man of Port Dale too. The push to find the bastard terrorizing the city was growing, but Blaine didn’t think they were any closer to finding the culprit. He was quickly beginning to suspect he wasn’t very good at investigative work, and all the paperwork and notes about cases were beginning to give him a headache.

  Eric, however, was thrilled with all the new facts and figures pouring in. He was swearing up and down that the latest fire wasn’t from their resident arsonist at all. The lack of any sort of gadget to start the fire was his prime reason, though Blaine wasn’t so sure. The other devices found at the scene weren’t in the greatest condition, and this latest fire had resulted in an explosion.

  Yet his partner was obsessed, pouring over the files that constantly dropped onto their desks every hour. Blaine was pretty sure Eric had practically wet himself when a report came in saying that one of the earlier gadgets had survived with less damage than they’d feared. Blaine knew his facts and figures obsessed partner was chomping at the bit to get that particular analysis in.

  Eric grunted from his desk. “Would you stop tapping? It’s drilling into the center of my brain.”

  Immediately, Blaine stopped, finger hovering over the keyboard as he watched Eric. Blaine still didn’t know what Sean or Chief Morgan had said to Eric, but it had done something. Eric still wasn’t trying to buddy up to him, but he’d lost most of the sharp edges he’d had before. There was no real warmth, but sometimes Blaine would swear he spotted Eric watching him intently when he was sure Blaine wasn’t looking.

  “Sorry. Bored and anxious,” Blaine admitted.

  Eric snorted. “Police work not as exciting as you thought it was going to be?”

  “I never really expected it to be explosions and shoot outs, but I was expecting...something more than this,” Blaine said with a frustrated wave of his hand toward the computer.

  Eric shook his head. “Sorry, soldier boy, but most of what you’ll do here is paperwork. The next biggest thing is looking over everyone else’s notes. If you wanted to have more to do, should have gone with the foot patrol boys.”

  Blaine wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ve been shot at enough in my life, thanks.”

  Eric looked up, frowning at him. “You really...you were shot at that much?”

  “Ah,” Blaine flushed.

  “Right. Sorry I asked,” Eric said quickly, turning his attention back to his screen.

  Blaine sighed. “No, it’s...I just meant it as a joke. But yeah, I’ve been shot at quite a lot. Kind of what happens when you’re one of the grunts on the front lines.”

  To his surprise and confusion, Eric’s jaw tightened as he nodded. “Sure.”

  Blaine shoo
k his head, once again not sure what he’d said wrong. Eric had to have known that Blaine wasn’t exactly going to be safe while he’d been gone. Hell, it had been one of the main arguments Eric had thrown at him when Blaine had finally broken the news.

  Blaine straightened in a flash of understanding.

  “What?” Eric asked roughly, seeing the movement out of the corner of his eyes.

  Blaine shook his head. “Nothing, just stiff from sitting for four hours.”

  And the realization that he’d inadvertently shoved salt into an old wound. No big deal.

  Eric grunted again, pushing his keyboard away. “Yeah. Same. C’mon.”

  Blaine raised a brow as Eric stood up. “What?”

  “If I have to stare at these reports any longer, I’m going to throw my screen out the window. And if you have to sit still any longer, you’re going to vibrate through the walls.”

  “Ah,” Blaine started, realizing he had nothing to argue with. “Okay. We still have another couple of hours.”

  “That we do. And it’s time I introduced you to the setup we have downstairs.”

  “Downstairs,” Blaine followed him out. “Where the holding cells are.”

  Eric snorted. “There’s also another set of locker rooms. A small track to run on, and some gym equipment.”

  Blaine blinked. “Three weeks into being here, and now you tell me?”

  Eric shrugged. “Slipped my mind.”

  Blaine sighed, following diligently. It was far more likely that Eric had kept it from him because the man could be petty as hell when he was irritated. It was rarely anything cruel and spiteful, but it could be frustrating.

  “Ass,” Blaine muttered as they descended the stairs.

  “Most of the time.”

  Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Eric pointed to their right. “Go down there. Door on your left is the locker room, the one on the right is the workout space. You should be lucky enough that no one’s in there yet. It’s mostly the beginning of shifts that bring them in.”

  “You’re not coming?” Blaine asked.

  Eric shrugged. “I might. I might not.”

  “Thought you said you were tired of looking at reports.”

  “I am. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand around and watch you take your sweaty, pent-up energy out on gym equipment. I’m going to go prowl around and see what sort of trouble I can get into.”

  Blaine watched him walk back up the stairs, lips twitching. “Hey, Eric.”

  A sigh and Eric turned around. “What?”

  Blaine smirked. “Where’s your hiding spot?”

  Eric blinked. “For what?”

  “I already saw you smuggle the book into your desk. Where do you go to read it without anyone bugging you?”

  Eric’s face blanked, and Blaine would bet he was trying to figure out how Blaine knew. A look of irritation flickered over the man’s face, he’d figured it out. Blaine knew how much Eric hated to be reminded of how well Blaine knew him.

  Blaine shrugged in response, it wasn’t his fault he could remember all the times Eric had been written up in high school for reading in the middle of class.

  “The physical records room,” Eric admitted sourly. “No one goes in there.”

  Blaine hummed. “Tales of spacefaring rogues, rescuing star systems and getting the girl?”

  Eric’s cheeks darkened. “Fuck off, Blaine.”

  Blaine chuckled, leaving Eric on the stairs. “Yeah, you too.”

  Two hours later and more laps and reps than he had bothered to keep track of, Blaine trotted off the track with a smile on his face. He might have overdone the weights at the start and would probably feel it in the morning. He was tired, sweaty, and could feel the soreness settling in deep, but damned if he didn’t feel good about it.

  Blaine grabbed a towel from the back of a rack and wiped his forehead, still smiling. He had allowed his workout routine to fall by the wayside during the past few weeks. Between trying to get settled in his apartment and dealing with Eric’s foul mood, he simply hadn’t found the will to drag himself to a gym and get a membership.

  Humming to himself, he made his way out of the gym and back toward the locker rooms. They were smaller than the ones on the main floor but thankfully came equipped with a few showers in an enclosed alcove. After leaving Eric to stomp off, he’d had the sense to return to the main floor and retrieve his bag from the lockers there.

  Satisfied with his body’s tiredness, he opened the locker and pulled his bag out. Yanking out the small toiletry bag and the towel he always kept with him, he stuffed the bag back into the locker.

  A pleased hum came from him as the water warmed up quickly, and he set about washing off. One thing he’d missed most about being in a location that wasn’t a base camp in the middle of nowhere was the reliable plumbing. The water was hot, beating down on his taut shoulders and stiff back, working the tension out with a water pressure he hoped he could have one day.

  He jerked when an angry voice bounced off the walls. “Fuck’s sake, how long you gonna take in there?”

  “Eric?” Blaine called over the sound of the water.

  The reply was muttered and drowned out by the splashing of the water, but Blaine could hear the irritation just fine. He wasn’t sure if he should sigh or roll his eyes, so he settled on both as he turned the water off. Snatching up his towel, he wiped himself off.

  “What are you doing?” Blaine called out.

  “Waiting for your dumbass, obviously.”

  “Right. But why?”

  “Because apparently, I’m your babysitter.”

  That...didn’t actually make a whole lot of sense. Blaine knew better than to prod Eric any further, though. He sounded closer to the level of irritation and pissed off that he had in the first two weeks. That and if Eric were willing to tell Blaine outright what he wanted, he would have done so, probably with a lot of swearing.

  “Decided not to join me?” Blaine said, swiping the towel over his legs.

  “Excuse me?”

  Blaine snorted at the indignation. “You were the one who said you might join me for a workout.”

  “I said might, not for sure. There’s a difference.”

  “Got sucked into your book, huh?”

  “Blow me, Edwards.”

  Blaine grinned, almost having to physically bite his tongue before replying. Eric might be less willing to snarl and hiss every time Blaine spoke to him, but he didn’t think they were at the point where he could make casual sex jokes. Well, especially those that would hit far too close to home.

  The motion of drying himself slowed to a stop as his withheld joke lingered in his mind. It was a little too easy to remember being with Eric in a bright, brilliant flash. The man could be feisty and even a little rough one minute, and then pliant and submissive the next. Blaine had never known sex could be a spin of the wheel with someone else, or that it could be so much fun.

  He cleared his throat. “Right.”

  “Speak up. Can’t hear you when you’re mumbling,” Eric called back.

  Blaine rolled his eyes and tucked the towel around his waist. He hadn’t exactly been expecting Eric to come barging into the locker room, and he wasn’t wearing his sweaty clothes to walk out. His bare feet padded softly against the tile of the locker room, rounding a row of lockers to find Eric sitting on a bench.

  Blaine opened the locker, yanking his bag out. “Fine fine, I’m here.”

  Eric tapped at something on his phone. “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Christ, do you take this long at home too?”

  “Worse,” Blaine admitted.

  Eric shook his head. “Of course you are.”

  Blaine chuckled softly, opening his bag to yank out a set of clean clothes. He turned his back on Eric as he rummaged for his socks. Blaine paused when from behind him came a low, strangled sound. He rolled his eyes, plucking the socks from the depths of the bag. He was not going to be sorry that he was finding Eri
c’s grumpiness amusing again.

  Stuffing the dirty clothes into a plastic bag and then into his gym bag, he turned around. He froze in the act of pulling on his shirt as he caught the expression on Eric’s face.

  “Uh, what?” Blaine asked, not liking Eric’s wide eyes and thin lips.

  Eric’s jaw worked. “You weren’t kidding.”

  “No,” Blaine said slowly. “I enjoy long showers.”

  “Not what I meant, you…”

  Blaine blinked, not quite sure what he was supposed to say. Suddenly conscious of his half-nude state, he looked down over himself. It was the same expanse of skin and hair that he was used to seeing, right along with the white puckered marks and jagged lines of his...oh.

  “Oh,” Blaine grunted.

  “That was a mighty big mark on your back,” Eric said, voice taut.

  Blaine sighed. “Uh, yeah. Most of it’s just bullets, grazes, shrapnel. Normal stuff.”

  “Normal stuff,” Eric repeated tightly.

  “And the one on my back was from a crash.” He yanked his shirt on quickly. “Helo went down while I was in it. We were alright, I was the worst, though. Got a piece of metal from the copter lodged in my back. Missed everything important, but left me a souvenir.”

  “Yeah, spotted that myself, thanks,” Eric grunted, cheeks blooming with color again.

  Blaine tried to hold his gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for the scars, Eric. There’s nothing I can do about them.”

  Eric jerked his gaze away to stare at the lockers across from him. Blaine watched as the man’s throat worked, adam’s apple bouncing as he swallowed repeatedly. Guilt curled in his gut, but he stuck true to his word. Blaine wasn’t going to be sorry about his scars, even if he did feel bad that it just hurt Eric all over again. Now, if only he could get the man to stop punishing him for old choices, they might actually get somewhere.

  An urge to reach over and take Eric in a tight hug washed over him, and he shoved it away. Eric would sooner deck him than let Blaine touch him. And still mindful of Eric’s presence, he grabbed up his underwear and pulled them on under the towel rather than discarding the cloth. Nudity wasn’t a big deal to him, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to put himself on display in front of Eric again, even if the man was resolutely looking away from him.