Straight From the Heart

by Sam Burns

  “Yeah, we should go,” Liam said, the words barely audible over the sound of everyone’s breathing. Then he straightened his shoulders and looked at the other men again. “I’ll see you in court, Patty. Keegan, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Keegan nodded. “You should come early. The whole band. Have dinner at my table.”

  “Sounds good,” Alex agreed, and Liam nodded.

  Mickey and Liam turned to look at each other for a moment, expressions awkward. Finally, as Liam started to turn away, Mickey spoke up. “You got my number, man.”

  Liam’s face brightened. “Yeah. I do.”

  They nodded to each other, and Liam turned back to Alex. The nervousness returned to his face, his teeth pulling his lower lip in to bite on it.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Don’t think puppy dog eyes are going to get you out of the talk we’re going to have, Liam. Dude, is your real name even Liam?” Alex’s mind whirled with the possibilities. How would he ever get used to calling Liam something else?

  Liam laughed and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, guiding him out of the room. “Yeah, my name is really Liam. Kennedy, not so much.”

  “Good thing,” Mickey called after them. “Kennedy’s a stupid name.”

  “Bite me, Mick!” Liam yelled back.

  16

  Liam and Alex Ever After

  Liam got four hours of sleep, and all of them were on a bench in the station.

  Alex hadn’t been impressed by his insistence that they go straight there to report the kidnapping, but it had been the right thing to do, so he’d done it when Liam had asked. He was allowed to do the right thing again, and he was taking full advantage.

  Lieutenant Washington had only kept Alex a few hours to answer questions and sign a witness statement. He might have to testify against Patty in court, too, but assuming the man agreed to plead guilty as ordered, the case wasn’t going to be too hard for anyone.

  He had kindly left Mickey’s name out of the kidnapping without Liam even suggesting it. As much as Liam liked Mickey, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t, he wouldn’t ever ask Alex to lie for him. Bad enough that he’d been forced to lie, he was never going to force someone else to do it.

  Alex had been hesitant to leave him alone when they told him he could go, but Liam waved him off.

  “I’ll see you tonight if I’m not in a cell,” he whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear.

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Alex growled at him.

  A shiver ran down his back at the protectiveness in Alex’s tone and expression. Damn, that was hot. “Okay,” he ceded. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’ll see you tonight. Five, so we can all have dinner together.” And he’d left Liam to his questioning.

  Unlike Alex, Liam had many, many things to answer for. Casey had asked him for a complete statement, then asked him about details she didn’t understand. Then Lieutenant Washington had asked the same questions plus a few dozen more. And when Liam had answered them all, he asked them again.

  He wasn’t sure it was a good thing, but Liam found that he was once again capable of lying well. Or at least omitting well. Casey didn’t call him on not mentioning he was dating Alex, and no one else thought to ask it. He didn’t mention Mickey’s name, or Keegan’s involvement at all.

  The resulting story was that O’Hanrahan had kidnapped Alex because of the history between their families, which Alex had filled him in on during their trek to the police station. Then Liam had broken his cover to stop the kidnapping. As simple as that.

  He wasn’t sure how Patty confessing would go over, but he figured that the worst the CPD could do without any proof was fire him, and he was too damned tired to care about that. He’d already figured out that Alex was more important than his job, and that wasn’t going to change.

  Given his willingness to throw his career away, he was starting to wonder if he should just resign. The city deserved cops who put its safety first, and he wasn’t one of them anymore.

  A smack to his foot woke him. “Liam, wake up,” Casey said softly from her position above him. “God, I don’t know how you can sleep like that.”

  He sat up and stretched, and the joints in his neck and shoulders popped. “Dunno. Used to trying to sleep under worse circumstances, I guess.”

  “I guess,” she agreed sarcastically. “Either way, you’ve got the green light to go home. Washington wants you to take the rest of the week, mandatory administrative leave, to come down. If we have any more questions we’ll call you, so go home and charge your real cell.”

  “They pick up O’Hanrahan?” he asked.

  “You’re not gonna believe it,” she said with an incredulous expression. “He turned himself in. Quinn must have been seriously pissed at him. He’s not even offering to roll, just confessing to everything under the damn sun.”

  Liam couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at that. At least he could tell the truth about that. “Quinn did have me protecting Alex. He probably wasn’t too thrilled with Patty for kidnapping him. Prison’s a safer place for him than the streets now.”

  Casey just shrugged, rubbing her neck and looking at the clock. “Don’t know, don’t care. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. He probably won’t last too long in prison like that, though.”

  “Like you said, don’t know, don’t care. Prison is the least he deserves.” He stood on slightly wobbly legs. “So I’ve got a week to myself, huh?”

  She gave him a wicked smile. “You do. And I think there’s a cute bass player you started talking to just yesterday,” she stressed the words, giving him an evil look, “who might like to see your ugly face again.”

  Liam ran his hand through his hair and looked down at the floor, then offered her his best ‘aw shucks’ look. He might have been born in a Chicago suburb, but he could play innocent farm boy with the best. “Yeah. I should go properly introduce myself.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” she suggested as he turned to go. “You know, like lie to him.” They shared a fake glare, and she slapped him on the shoulder. “Go on, partner. Get your guy.”

  He walked out of the station feeling five years younger despite the lack of sleep. There were things left to deal with, sure, and it was still possible that he’d get reprimanded for his actions, but it was over. He was Liam Collins again. No one was going to ask him to shoot Russians, break kneecaps, or stalk Alex. Not that he’d broken any kneecaps. Apparently that was Mickey’s specialty.

  Not feeling like bothering with public transportation, he caught a cab home and collapsed onto his bed. It smelled a little musty from his extended absence, but it was home in a way that Liam Kennedy’s apartment never had been.

  His last thought as he fell asleep was that he hoped Alex didn’t mind the change.

  He woke to the sun shining bright through his window, and the alarm clock next to his bed reading two in the afternoon. Not terrible. That gave him plenty of time to shower, shave, dress, and get to Wilde’s for dinner.

  The shower and shave were refreshing. His own closet of clothes was a welcome change, though he thought he’d miss Liam Kennedy’s leather jacket. Maybe he’d buy one.

  That reminded him. He found the jacket he’d worn the previous day sitting on his couch and searched the pockets for his cover phone. He’d taken out the battery, but he really needed to wipe it. He had a moment’s guilt for that, but as O’Hanrahan had turned himself in, it wasn’t going to be necessary. He wrote down Alex and Mickey’s numbers before doing the wipe, and then used his kitchen shears to cut the sim card into tiny pieces when it was done.

  He got his own phone out of the drawer where he’d left it and set it to charge, plugging in the new numbers when it finally turned on. Then he sent a text, so Alex would have his real number.

  This is Liam. See you tonight.

  A few minutes later he got an answer.

  Good to hear from you. Hope everything went well. See you tonight!
>
  He smiled at his phone like a dope in love, then sighed at himself and put it down. In love. With a guy he’d known for two weeks. He had believed Alex thought with his heart first, but it turned out that was him.

  After going through all the clothes in his closet, he decided two things. The first was that he’d just wear jeans and a t-shirt instead of trying to impress anyone, and the second was that he needed to wash all of his clothes. They didn’t smell bad, really, just like they’d been sitting in a closet for six months with no love. He left the closet door open to let the stale smelling air out, and wished he could leave his windows open, too.

  Finally satisfied, he pulled on his own fleece jacket and headed out to the closest train station.

  From his apartment to Old Town was a short trip when the trains ran on time, and that was happily the case for the evening. It was nice, not wearing the leather jacket and having a scowl on his face. People smiled at him. Maybe he wouldn’t buy a leather jacket of his own.

  He was nervous again when he arrived at Wilde’s and realized that he was half an hour early, but there was nothing to do about that in retrospect. The place was already open, and he was sure Keegan would be there even if the band wasn’t.

  Brigit was standing at the front counter, as she was every time he went in, and it made him wonder if she was a robot who lived in the back room. She flashed him a bright smile, and instead of asking him the usual questions, she just motioned for him to follow her.

  He followed her into the dining area and found Keegan sitting there, papers splayed across the wood tabletop. When he looked up and saw them coming, he started clearing the mess out of the way. He motioned Liam to sit next to him.

  “Just looking at some new menu ideas from the chef,” he explained, stacking the papers methodically.

  Liam slid into the booth on Keegan’s right. “I guess you’ve got to switch it up sometimes.”

  Keegan nodded in agreement, but looked frustrated. He changed the subject. “You look good for a man who probably spent most of the last twenty-four hours giving the police a statement.”

  Liam nodded. “I was there till ten this morning. I’ve got the week off, but when I get back Monday there’s going to be six months’ worth of paperwork. Not to mention the stuff for the case against Patty.”

  “So you’re saying that letting you go back was a worse punishment than killing you?” Keegan asked with a grin.

  “Maybe,” Liam agreed. “It’s not gonna be fun.”

  “And yet, most cops I know would be thrilled. This has worked out for you way better than it should have. If you hadn’t met Alex, or you didn’t know me, you’d probably be dead right now.”

  Liam nodded. “True.”

  “But you don’t look that happy.” Keegan stuffed the papers in a folder and handed it to Brigit, who had come back to the table. “Kill the walnut thing, we can at least try the rest.” He looked back at Liam. “You want a drink?”

  “Iced tea, please?” Liam requested.

  She nodded and headed off toward the bar.

  Keegan leaned against the back of the booth and turned to him. “So what’s bringing the local hero down? The cops have got to be thrilled with you.”

  “They are,” he said with a sigh. “They know there’s something not quite right about it all, but they’re not going to ask questions they don’t want the answers to. A lot of them will probably think I’m on the take after this.”

  Keegan rolled his eyes and waved a hand as though dismissing the concern. “A lot of cops would have thought you were on the take after going under with the Irish no matter what happened.”

  It was a fair point. Having your name associated with organized crime was almost always a bad thing, even if you seemed to be the perfect, pristine good guy.

  “Suppose so,” Liam agreed. “Still, I didn’t expect to come out of it feeling like I had done something wrong. The worst part is that I don’t care if I did something wrong. What kind of person does that make me?”

  “Let me get this straight,” Keegan said, looking like he was struggling to keep a straight face. “You feel bad for not feeling bad?”

  It sounded ridiculous when he put it like that. Still, it was the issue. Liam nodded. “Kinda. Is that stupid?”

  “Nah. I’d say it means you’ve got more scruples than most of your fellow boys in blue. You know how many of your co-workers probably are on the take? A lot of whom will be talking shit about whether you’re doing it now?”

  Liam covered his ears. “Can’t hear you.” He stopped when Keegan gave him an incredulous look. “What? I know it’s true; doesn’t mean I want to think about it.”

  “Fair enough, I guess.” Keegan leaned back in his seat and shrugged. “Just like I don’t want to think about the people who work for my dad not being good guys.”

  “I see your point.”

  Brigit came and delivered his tea then, saving him from having to respond properly. He was inclined to think that cops, on the whole, were a better group than people who worked in organized crime, but he wasn’t going to deny that there were good criminals and bad cops. He had firsthand experience of the former, and the news went crazy every time the latter became a public issue, so no one in their right mind could doubt that.

  Fortunately for both of them, Keegan let it go and changed the subject. “You’re pretty early.”

  “Didn’t have anything else to do.” He crossed his arms on the table and put his head down. “Damn. What am I gonna do with a whole week off?”

  “I could fire your boyfriend, give you lots of time together,” Keegan offered, smile all sweet innocence.

  Liam turned his eyes on Keegan and glared, not bothering to lift his head.

  Brigit, still at the table, laughed. “You wouldn’t fire Alex. He’s too good with customers.” She set a drink in front of Keegan, right in Liam’s line of sight. He could smell it from a foot away. Whiskey. He sat up and tried to move a few inches further away, as subtly as possible.

  Keegan eyed him suspiciously anyway. “She’s right, of course. I’m keeping him.” He looked down at his drink, where Liam was studiously not looking. He reached out and slid it over to his left, away from Liam, but said nothing about it. “I’m being forced to try the new things the chef wants to put on the menu. Want to have a spin at the wheel of possible food poisoning?”

  Brigit made an offended sound. “There is no—” she looked around and lowered her voice, despite the relative lack of people in the dining area. “There is no possible food poisoning. Chef Drew just didn’t know you were allergic to shellfish.”

  Keegan gave Liam a look that said he was dubious, but nodded at Brigit patronizingly. She rolled her eyes at him, but refrained from saying anything rude.

  “So,” she said with all her usual cheer. “Tonight’s options on the menu of maybe are the grilled tuna steak and the old-fashioned cheeseburger.”

  Keegan raised an eyebrow. “Cheeseburger?” He leaned toward Liam. “It sounds too good. It must be a trap. It’s topped with shrimp.”

  Liam tried, and failed, to keep himself from laughing. “I’m not allergic. One shrimp burger for me, please? And onion rings?”

  “Don’t think I won’t whack you just because you’re not Keegan,” she threatened, then turned to the man in question. “Tuna, Mr. Picky?”

  Keegan sighed, but nodded his agreement. “Please ask him to do mine without the scallop stuffing? It was great, but I’m not partial to stomach pumps.”

  She rolled her eyes as she walked away, muttering something about stressing out poor delicate Chef Drew.

  “Did he really not know you were allergic to shellfish?” Liam asked after she was gone.

  “Yeah,” Keegan said dismissively. “It wasn’t his fault. He’s not the wilting flower she pretends he is, either. He jokes about it as much as I do.”

  “The time he accidentally tried to kill his boss?”

  “Anaphylactic shock for fun and profit,” Keegan said w
ith a laugh. “Not that there’d really be profit in it, unless he was some kind of assassin. And if he is, he stinks at it. One murder attempt in three years? Amateur.”

  “So just for fun, then?” Liam asked.

  Keegan pretended to think about it for a minute, then nodded agreement. “Why else try to kill your boss?”

  They both froze and looked at each other.

  “Who’s killing their boss?” a familiar voice asked excitedly.

  Both of them looked up to find the lead singer of Alex’s band approaching the table, an apologetic looking Alex in tow.

  “I’m sure no one is killing their boss, Jenna.” Alex managed to sound hopeful and concerned at the same time. He shook off her hand and slid into the booth next to Liam, leaning against him.

  Liam felt a weight drop from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how worried he had been, but he’d half expected Alex to decide the mess Liam had dragged him into wasn’t worth it. Liam wasn’t sure he was worth it, why would Alex be?

  “Awww,” Jenna said, smiling at them like they were a picture of snuggling kittens on the internet. “You two do the thing, we’ll tote everything in.”

  “The thing?” Keegan looked at them confusedly as she turned and left. “What’s the thing?”

  Alex squeezed closer and leaned his head on Liam’s shoulder, then motioned toward the two of them.

  Keegan scoffed, leaned forward, and grabbed his whiskey. “Ah, of course. The thing.” He took a sip. “Planning on doing the thing all week? I’m not firing Alex, but he has tomorrow off, and I could spare him on Thursday too.”

  “Firing me?” Alex looked between the two of them. “Do I wanna know?”

  “It was a joke, because I’m on mandatory administrative leave from work till Monday and already bored,” Liam answered, automatically and all in one breath.

  Keegan laughed at him, and at Alex’s dumbfounded face. “I think you’re going to have to deal with compulsive truth-telling for a while. He’s got it all stored up.”