A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4)

by Jaime Reese

  "Maybe someday you'll tell me about you. I know there's a lot you hide away," Jessie said, snuggling into the pillow.

  He didn't have a response for that, but there was no way he would poison Jessie with any bit of info from his past. He did everything in his power to lock that shit up tight and throw away the key. "Good night, Jess."

  He finished going through his emails and unpacked a few items from his bag before settling in his chair to the right of Jessie's bed. He stared up at the ceiling tiles, going through everything Jessie had said, trying to compartmentalize Jessie's experience from his own. He turned to face Jessie and reached out with a shaky hand, ghosting his fingers along Jessie's fair cheek—a stolen, reverent caress he would only dare when Jessie was in a deep, peaceful sleep. He didn't know how someone could go through all that and still have a strong spirit and a smile brighter than the sun. How could someone not let something so negative break them? How could they manage to move forward and not let something so horrible color every action, decision, and relationship from that point forward?

  Somehow, Jessie had found a way.

  He brushed the loose strands of hair away from Jessie's face and wished that someday, maybe he could be strong enough to find a way to do the same.

  "So your physical therapist tells me you're making great strides," Dr. Green said, scribbling notes in Jessie's chart.

  "Yup," Jessie said, sneaking a glance at Aidan out of the corner of his eye. He bit his lip to hide the laugh that almost escaped at the scowl on Aidan's face. His "progress" could be attributed to his midnight rendezvous down the hall a few steps more each night with a skeleton crew of nurses at the edge of their seats or cheering him on. And Aidan right there by his side, supporting him as he hobbled each step down the hallway. He had been awake now for five weeks and he definitely felt stronger and a little closer to his usual self. They had replaced the full arm cast with a shorter, temporary forearm cast that extended to his wrist, and he was thankful to not have that extra weight to lug around.

  "Considering your rapid progress, we've got a present for you." The doctor closed the chart and smiled.

  "Do I get to go home?"

  "We had a deal. When you make it to the end of the hallway and can handle the basics on your own, yes, you can go home."

  Jessie deflated and crossed his arms then winced, regretting the action as soon as the cast jabbed into his ribs. He looked up, hoping the doctor had missed his reaction.

  He hadn't. Damn.

  "You've got the pain meds, and I've got a standing order if you need something to help you sleep with the nightmares. Don't push yourself so much."

  Aidan shook his head, obviously echoing the same reprimand he voiced each night they walked a little farther down the hallway. He busied himself, typing away on his laptop, but most likely still listening to each word of the exchange. How that man managed to not go stir crazy keeping him company was a wonder. He could have easily escaped to the precinct, his house, anywhere outside of these sterile, white walls. But no, Aidan chose to be by his side—all day, every day.

  He loved the stubborn man more with each passing day.

  He had grown accustomed to Aidan's company, his protective, watchful eye, and those tentative, gentle caresses at night against his cheek. So much so that he'd often close his eyes and fake a deep slumber, craving the warm graze of that touch against his face. But most of all, a cloak of love and safety enveloped him, warming him to the core and motivating his recovery. Aidan always offered an awe-inspiring secret smile that made him feel seven-feet tall. He needed to feel independent and that had been the requirement that drove most of his actions since he was finally on his own as a teen. But he wouldn't deny that the look of admiration in those watchful hazel eyes was his greatest motivator, pushing his progress along.

  The doctor walked to the door and returned with a single crutch in hand.

  Jessie beamed and Aidan groaned.

  "This should help you meet your goal. But I don't want you trying to walk on your own. Even with the crutch, you need to make sure someone is always with you."

  "Okay." Jessie set his rubber-soled, hospital-socked foot on the floor and steadied himself with the weight of the leg cast and support boot.

  The clicking of the laptop keys stopped.

  The doctor tucked the crutch under Jessie's good arm then removed the crutch to adjust the height, repeating the process until it fit perfectly.

  "You've created a monster, Doc," Aidan mumbled from the corner round table, watching them closely.

  Jessie laughed and the doctor smiled. Dr. Green turned to walk out then paused before opening the door. "Just remember, having a crutch doesn't mean you go at it alone until your step is more confident. Understand?"

  "Okay," Jessie agreed, holding his balance as he stood with the crutch.

  "That includes your midnight walks," the doctor added before exiting and closing the door behind him, leaving them alone in the room.

  Jessie's focus snapped to Aidan. "Did you—"

  Aidan raised his hands in surrender. "I don't snitch," he said with a chuckle. "Aren't you sitting back down?"

  Jessie slowly shook his head, his focus never leaving Aidan's intense stare. "I'm going to walk over to you and sit next to you at that table."

  Aidan stood, ignoring Jessie's plea to remain seated. "I'll let you walk on your own, but I'm not going to watch you fall on your ass to prove a point and risk canceling out all your progress."

  "Fine," he grumbled, balancing himself on the crutch as Aidan stood like a guard dog at his side. He wobbled once, but Aidan instantly extended his hand to offer that additional support to stay righted. He finally reached the chair and eased himself into the seat. "So what are we working on?"

  Aidan raised an eyebrow, but a subtle smile curled his lips. "You're working on getting better. I'm working on cases."

  "You're no fun."

  Aidan chuckled.

  Jessie reached over and opened one of the files then looked over at Aidan. "This is one of the case files related to Cam. Right?"

  Aidan glanced at the file and nodded. "I've been trying to tie up the loose ends." He looked off at a distance and his lips thinned. "Cam's having a hard time with all the changes and moving around, so Hunter wants to come back home." He shook his head, battling some inner argument. "I can't risk their safety until we figure out how Cam is linked to any other potential arrest in that crime ring. I just need a little more time."

  "It must be difficult. Cam felt as if he had finally settled into things when he was here, but then had it all stripped away. Aside from that, names are an important part of your identity. Makes things personal. Someone really smart told me that a couple weeks ago," he said, gently bumping Aidan's shoulder. "So give me one of the case files and let me take a look."

  Aidan looked at him then reached into his bag and withdrew a few more files. "These are the new ones I've got since we last worked on it. Maybe you can make some progress on these."

  He took the folders and craned his neck to peek at the file Aidan held in his hand. He missed working—being in bed was entirely too overrated, at least, under these circumstances. He craved spending time researching, helping to solve a puzzle, and finally closing a case. He rested his cast arm on the table and thumbed through the file with his good hand. Aidan laid out the photos from a different case and stared at each image with an intensity that could have easily burned through each picture. There was something exciting and intriguing about Aidan when he worked, channeling his focus so every millimeter of his being concentrated on the case at hand. That intensity, that commitment, that drive. It was in everything he did—nothing Aidan did was ever half-assed.

  "Fuck me," Aidan mumbled with a faint whisper, reaching for his cell phone after cursing the team's offline status on chat.

  Jessie closed his eyes when Aidan's arm brushed against him, that subtle graze shooting a bolt of need through his body. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, tryi
ng to focus on the papers before him. He heard Aidan tell the team to pull the photos and to look at the tattoo work of each of the victims. All of the victims had inked their skin at some point in time. However, they all shared one tiny addition—the small butterfly tattoo incorporated into one of their designs.

  "It's there. Look at the photos of the hooded skeleton tattoo. The nose is the butterfly. And the other victim's tattoo of the fairy. The little pixie is wearing a necklace with the same small butterfly design as a pendant. Even the damn snake on victim number fifteen has it hidden in the scales. Find who did the ink work, and we might have something to go on." He finished the call and stacked the images, shifting his focus to a new file.

  "Speaking of ink," Jessie said, shifting his position in the chair to face Aidan. "I heard you have some."

  For the first time in almost a year and a half since they had known each other, a flush of color tinted Aidan's cheeks.

  "Are you embarrassed I know about the ink?"

  Aidan shook his head and fidgeted with the edges of the papers on the table, refusing to make eye contact with him. "No. I'm bothered by how you found out."

  Jessie leaned in, enjoying this unhinged version of Aidan he hadn't seen before. "Did you think walking out of the bathroom, still wet after a shower, sporting a half torso of ink wasn't going to get talked about?"

  "The nurses gossip too much," he mumbled with a scowl.

  "Can I see?"

  Aidan shook his head.

  "I thought you said you didn't mind that I knew?"

  Aidan sighed. "I don't mind. But expecting me to strip down to put a spotlight on it isn't going to happen."

  "Why not?" Jessie said with a smile, loving the way Aidan squirmed in discomfort with the conversation. Aidan kept his personal stuff locked away in a very closely guarded private vault, but dammit, Jessie needed to know.

  "Can we drop this?"

  "No. I want to see."

  Aidan sighed.

  "How far down does it go?"

  "What?"

  Jessie inched closer. "You said 'strip down.' That's more than lifting a sleeve or a shirt. How far down does it go?"

  Aidan's jaw muscles twitched.

  "Aidan, I know it bothers you that Amy saw it. She told me about it because she thought I had already seen it. I asked her not to tell another soul. She swears she hasn't. She was too embarrassed that day and quickly turned around to avoid seeing more than her hormones could handle. She knows you're inked but couldn't even tell me what it was. And she didn't even bother to tell the nurses about the tattoo because she said she felt silly teasing about seeing something and not being able to back it up with details."

  "So she's a gossiper with a need for fact-finding. That's a first." Aidan leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms.

  "I get it. It's personal and it's private and who knows who else has seen it other than the artist who did it. I'm guessing, only a handful. I want… I'd like to be one of those few lucky people you let see it," he finished in a rush of words before he lost his nerve.

  Aidan pushed out each exhale heavily while his jaw muscle repeatedly twitched. He was obviously having one major internal argument and he was fighting the end result.

  Jessie knew how to make him cave. "Please."

  Aidan closed his eyes and sighed. He hesitated, then pulled the edge of the T-shirt out of the left side of his jeans and looked away.

  A carnal need began to bubble within Jessie with the sight of the tight, lean, tan muscles flexing with each labored breath. The tattoo covered the entire left side of Aidan's torso. The ink had no sharp black lines, rather, the design used shadowing to shape the image. A long scroll dipped below the waistline of his jeans and spread upward just past the middle of his torso. The words "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," etched in an elegant font, flowed with the curves of the scroll that framed them. Jessie reached over and grabbed the edge of Aidan's shirt but glanced up at his face, requesting permission before he dared move.

  Aidan turned his face to the side, like a wolf baring his throat in submission. Submission wasn't something he imagined was part of Aidan's personal code, but the permission granted in that subtle gesture was unmistakable. Jessie pulled the shirt up slowly, guiding Aidan's hand upward to reveal more. He released the fabric and let his eyes follow the design of the angel with wings spread wide, inked with heavy shadows almost appearing three-dimensional and ready to leap off his skin, holding up the flag of victory in one hand, and a fighting dagger in the other. The design looked like a classic Roman painting, a piece of art that must have taken hours to complete and the message a clear reminder of strength and resilience. He was a survivor. A fighter. Jessie reached out and ghosted his fingers along the words permanently inked into Aidan's skin. The current of electricity passed between them and followed his finger like a plasma lamp from a novelty store, prickling his fingertip with the contact.

  "That's enough," Aidan said in a hoarse voice. He pulled down his shirt and backed away a few inches. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs and arms, punctuating the end with both his words and body.

  Jessie refused to let him lock this up in his private vault. "It's beautiful," he whispered.

  Aidan swallowed heavily and closed his eyes.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  Aidan opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned to face Jessie, a mix of emotions playing in his expression. "One."

  Jessie smiled warmly, seeing Aidan more vulnerable than ever. "Why did you get the tattoo?"

  Aidan's throat worked as if fighting which words to spill out in response. "I…needed to feel something."

  He imagined Aidan might hint at the message of strength staring back at him when he faced a mirror. How empowering it was or something of that nature. But to feel something? Pain squeezed Jessie's heart, not sure what else to say, and he refused to push Aidan with this level of vulnerability on display. He inched closer, hesitant and unsure how Aidan would feel about more than just a touch on his arm or holding his hand. He rested his head against Aidan's shoulder and sighed, reveling in the warmth and comfort that emanated from his strong body. "Thank you for showing me."

  Aidan didn't say a word, but his chest heaved with each deep breath.

  Jessie closed his eyes when fingers tentatively combed through his hair. He slowly straightened, his eyes still closed, unable to focus on anything other than calming his frantically beating heart and the surge of emotions welling within. He finally opened his eyes and connected with Aidan's hazel gaze. The insecurity and love staring back at him stole his breath. He wanted to reach out, he wanted to touch the tan skin of his chest again, or his arm, or feel the scrape of that persistent stubble…but he couldn't will his body to do anything but stare into those eyes as if he could see into Aidan's soul. Mesmerized, he leaned in toward that beautifully perfect mouth he wanted to taste. He parted his lips on an inhale and moved closer when Aidan did the same.

  Two quick knocks at the door broke the spell.

  Aidan's body jerked back, straight against the chair, his inner protective shield slicing through their connection like a guillotine.

  "Hey, guys!" Cole announced with Ty at his side and Matt and Julian following closely behind.

  Aidan shot up from his seat, slammed his laptop closed, and grabbed his keys. "I'll give you all some time," he said in a thick tone.

  Jessie reached out and placed a stopping hand on his forearm. "Promise me you'll be back later."

  Aidan looked to the mob that now wore perplexed expressions then back to Jessie and that hand resting on his arm.

  "Promise me," Jessie insisted, ignoring everyone else in the room. Nothing mattered at that moment but Aidan and knowing he would come back to him rather than finding some excuse to stay away.

  Aidan nodded once, but that was enough. He was a man of his word—spoken or not—and if he agreed to return, then he would…when ready. That reassurance eased the tension in Jessie's body.
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br />   Aidan mumbled something and waved to the group on his way out the door, quickly making his exit without looking back.

  "Did we interrupt…something?" Matt asked.

  Jessie waved his hand in the air. "No, we were looking at something with one of his cases and he got a break."

  Ty started to walk toward the door but stopped when Cole grabbed his arm and subtly shook his head. Cole glanced back at Jessie with obvious concern.

  His poor excuse seemed to satisfy the others, and they each found chairs from within the room or pulled from the nurses' station. Jessie enjoyed their visit, but his mind wandered back to Aidan. The insecurity and love visible through the window to his soul made Jessie's heart ache. He wanted to comfort him and ease that worry, but Aidan had undoubtedly escaped to bury it all again and hit his reset button.

  Long after everyone left, he pushed his dinner around on the plate as he absently looked up at the door. Waiting. Aidan had been gone for hours. He'd come back. But Jessie wondered how tough that inner shield would be upon his return, and if there was any way he'd be able to break through again.

  * * * *

  Aidan finally arrived home and shut the door behind him, leaning back and breathing heavily. Even after spending hours at the precinct then going for a run at full speed for several miles, he still couldn't seem to shake the warring emotions unsettling him. He was attracted to Jessie. He hadn't denied that to himself since the first moment he saw him. But he had forced his mind and body to disconnect years ago. Yet something had shifted between him and Jessie earlier. There, in that moment back at the hospital table, strong tendrils twisted and knotted around his heart, braiding with the tether that always lingered between them, pulling him toward Jessie, daring him to take a chance.

  And it fucking scared the shit out of him.

  His chest heaved with each rapid breath. He'd never felt so vulnerable, so open, so willing to do anything to inch closer and take what was offered. He screwed his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat. His mind had weakened, going blank with all thoughts but one. Jessie. His body had betrayed him, syncing with his mind…and heart. The way Jessie had looked at him and that tentative touch along his skin had almost broken his resolve. He lowered his head and tried to annihilate the thoughts that fueled his betraying body.