Danny would always be grateful to Griff for being his friend, for watching his back in Leavenworth, for never judging him. But he couldn’t tell Griff that without risking a fist in the face. Those were words no man in love wanted to hear—no matter how heartfelt, those sentiments would only sound like pity.
Griff finished his cigarette, eyes on the table. Danny twirled his now-cold pasta around and around his fork without taking a single bite.
“Okay,” Griff said. “You want to end this, then?”
“Not the friendship. But the rest of it… yeah, we probably should.”
Griff grabbed his half-empty pack of cigarettes, yanking his jacket off the back of his chair as he stood. “Don’t be a stranger, Danny.”
Danny tried to smile. “I won’t.” He held out his hand and Griff took it in his own, sliding his palm smoothly across Danny’s, the way they always did. “I’m sorry, Griff.”
“Me too.”
Danny finished his beer after Griff left, but his plate of food went back to the kitchen uneaten. The romantic part of Danny—that hidden kernel that not even years of living under his father and Hinestroza had killed—wished he could fall in love with Griff. He didn’t know if his capacity to love had been stunted, buried beneath the need for survival for so long it had forgotten how to breathe, or whether it was simply Griff himself who failed to evoke stronger feelings. But he understood how dangerous it would be to truly love someone, the power that would give Hinestroza. As lonely as he was, he couldn’t help but feel thankful he’d never experienced that rush of emotion for Griff, or anyone else. Danny’s life was not his own; every move that mattered was dictated by outside forces. Danny’s soul-deep love for another human being was the last remaining trump card Hinestroza didn’t hold.
MILLER WOKE up wrapped around Danny, his head on Danny’s chest, their legs twisted together beneath the sheets. Miller had never been a cuddler; he didn’t like anyone touching him while he slept. Rachel teased him about it, but he sensed her undercurrent of hurt, stung by the fact that he didn’t want her too close while his body rested. But sleeping with Danny, that turned out to be different. Danny followed him around the bed like a heat-seeking missile, some part of his body always in contact with Miller’s: foot, hand, full-body press. And the funny thing was, if he woke up and Danny wasn’t touching him, he solved that problem immediately, curling around Danny’s back, drawing Danny onto his shoulder, searching for a free hand. Danny managed to break all of his rules, both big and small, inserting his own game plan into every facet of Miller’s life.
Miller rolled onto his side of the bed, squinting at the time on his cell phone. He’d called Colin last night after Danny had fallen into exhausted sleep and made arrangements for him to bring a car over this morning. He only had about ten minutes before Colin showed up at the door. Miller threw on his clothes from yesterday, the only ones he had, and went out to wait in the parking lot. The last thing he needed was for Colin to catch an eyeful of the lone bed in the motel room, or Danny lying naked across it.
The morning was cold. Miller was grateful to the shining sun both for the warmth of the rays and the necessity of slipping on his mirrored shades. He didn’t want to face Colin unarmored. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the aging wall of the motel, his coat scraping loose tiny bits of pink stucco to scatter at his feet. He was pretty sure Colin didn’t believe him about the gun, and his job was riding on how he handled the situation from this point on. If Colin pulled him off the case, it would send a clear signal that he didn’t have what it took to move up through the ranks.
Last night you thought Danny being alive was the only thing that mattered.
But last night things had been simple. Fear distilled everything down to its fundamental essence—Danny breathing, Danny in his arms, Danny alive. But this morning, in the sunlight, the terror of their narrow escape was receding and other concerns were crowding in around his feelings for Danny—Rachel, his career, Danny’s past, both their futures. Without that blinding fear of death and the relief of outrunning it, real life was asserting its place in the lineup of what mattered.
It wasn’t even an issue of how much Miller was willing to give up or what he was willing to sacrifice, not really. Because the simple fact was that staying with Danny was not possible. There was no way to keep Danny safe here much longer. He needed to move into the next phase, obtain his new identity, start preparing to testify, begin his transformation into a different man. Danny was heading into a world where Miller could not follow.
And isn’t that lucky for you? Now you don’t have to make any tough choices. Can just ride your dirty little secret until the end of the line, you chicken shit.
Colin arrived five minutes early, driving the dark blue Crown Victoria that Miller knew so well. He got out of the car with cups of coffee in his hands, kicking the door shut with his foot.
“Morning,” he said to Miller, passing him a cup.
“Thanks.” The cardboard was hot against his hands, the coffee steaming into the air as Miller removed the lid for a tentative sip.
“I’ve got another one in the car for Butler.”
“He’s still asleep.”
Colin nodded, perching one hip on the hood of the car. “There are skid marks all over the highway where you said you shot out Juan Madrigal’s tire. And we found the car in the median about a quarter mile down. But it was empty.”
“Shit,” Miller sighed.
“We can move you guys to another apartment today.”
“No.”
“No?” Colin raised his eyebrows.
“If we’re in an FBI apartment, there will be too many people who can be bribed. It’s safer if we just move from motel to motel every couple of days. You and I will be the only ones who know where Danny’s staying.”
“Speaking of bribes, it was the clerk you talked to at the police station who gave Madrigal the dog walker’s report. For a lousy two hundred bucks.”
“Son of a bitch!”
“After I talked to you the first time yesterday, I confirmed that a report had been filed at the police station, so I went down there to talk to the clerk. He denied knowing anything about it. But I leaned on him and eventually he broke.”
“See?” Miller exclaimed, throwing out an arm. “It’s not safe for too many people to know where Danny’s located.”
“You can trust our people, Miller.”
“Anybody can be bribed, Colin. Or threatened.”
Colin ran a weary hand over his face. “Okay. We’ll do it this way. For the time being.”
Miller nodded, risking a bigger gulp of hot coffee.
“I heard back from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. Patterson’s handling the Hinestroza case. She said she wants to meet with us later this week.”
“Why? Shouldn’t we meet with the Marshal’s Office first?”
Colin shrugged. “Who knows? It’s going to be a high-profile case. She probably wants to make sure all her ducks are in a row. I’ll let you know the date and time once I have the details.”
“Fine.”
Colin stared at Miller through his sunglasses. “So, that can of mace thing? That was pretty lame.”
“What do you mean?”
“Miller… come on.”
“It was mace, Colin.”
Colin pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. “I get the feeling something’s not exactly kosher with this case.”
“I already said the walk was a mistake. What else—”
“It’s not the walk I’m worried about.”
Miller kicked at a small pile of loose gravel on the edge of the parking lot, a few tired weeds hanging onto life between the asphalt cracks. “There’s no reason to worry,” he said, wanting to end the conversation. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“No.” Colin gestured toward a cab idling at the far end of the street. “That’s mine. Here,” he said, as he opened the car door and grabbed the ex
tra cup of coffee. “Let me know when you change motels.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Colin shielded his eyes with one hand as he squinted at Miller in the sunlight. “Be careful.”
“Yeah. We will.”
The bed was empty when Miller let himself back into the motel room, the sound of the toilet flushing carrying out into the seedy little room. The sooner they moved out of this crap-hole, the better.
“Is that coffee?” Danny asked hopefully, emerging from the bathroom in his boxers, scratching his chest with one hand.
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Colin brought it when he dropped off a car for us.”
Danny took a sip through the tiny hole in the lid of the cup. “Ah, it’s the good stuff,” he said with approval. “Who’s Colin? Your boss?”
“Not exactly.” Miller shrugged out of his coat. “But he is my supervisor on this case.”
“Is he the one you lied to yesterday? About the gun?” Danny asked, eyes on Miller over his tilted cup.
Miller nodded, exhaling a weary sigh.
“He a good guy?”
“Yes, he’s a really good guy.” Miller looked down at the floor.
Danny reached forward and took his hand. “Come on,” he said gently.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to bed. It’s cold in here. The heater in this dump doesn’t work for shit.”
Miller didn’t protest, just kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers, back resting against the wall next to Danny.
Danny laid his foot on top of Miller’s. “You know what sounds good right now?”
“What?”
“Pancakes.”
Miller made a face, wrinkling up his nose in the age-old expression of distaste.
“You don’t like pancakes?”
“Not really.”
“Who the hell doesn’t like pancakes?” Danny asked, leaning forward to peer into Miller’s face with his eyebrows cocked.
Miller shrugged. “I just don’t like sweet stuff for breakfast.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re secretly a wheat germ, granola type guy.”
He laughed, shoving Danny’s shoulder with his own. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What’s your favorite food? I mean, if you could have anything you wanted for dinner, what would it be?”
Miller turned to look at Danny, his dark head resting against the uniform white of the wall. “Why do you want to know—”
“You always say you know everything about me. Right?”
“Right.”
“Well, now I’m returning the favor. Just humor me, okay?” Danny brushed his fingers through the hair at Miller’s temple.
“Okay.” Miller smiled, leaning into Danny’s hand without even thinking about it. “Chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and homemade gravy.”
Danny grinned. “You are from Kansas.”
“Yep.”
They sipped their coffee, Danny’s toes rubbing against the top of Miller’s foot.
“What’s the plan? Is this our new home sweet home?”
“Not for long. We’re going to be on the move for a while, until they get you out of here. You should have your Witness Protection Program interview by next week.”
Danny was quiet, running one finger around the lid of his cup.
“What?” Miller asked.
“Nothing.” Danny shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to it, that’s all.”
“We’ve got to get you someplace safer, Danny. You can’t stay around here.”
“I know.” Danny raised his eyes to Miller’s. “So that’ll be it, then?”
Miller knew what he was asking. The end seemed close now, more immediate than it had even twenty-four hours ago. Once the Marshal’s Office took over, Danny would be whisked away to points unknown. The FBI wouldn’t be privy to where he’d gone, Miller cut out of the loop that would encircle Danny’s new life. Maybe when Danny testified, Miller would catch a glimpse of him in a courthouse hallway, hold his eye across a room. That was the most he could hope for. He would never get the chance to know the man Danny would become.
“Yeah, that’ll be it,” Miller said, his voice low.
“No more Danny Butler.”
“You’ll be Danny somebody. They like you to keep your first name.”
“That’s not what I meant, Miller.”
“I know it’s not.” Miller traced the vein on the back of Danny’s hand with one finger, listened to Danny’s slow breathing next to him, the warmth from Danny’s thigh seeping through his jeans. He wanted to memorize this moment, for when it was all over.
“What about Amanda? Am I going to be able to talk to her again before I go?”
“That’s not up to us anymore. She went to her sister’s in Indiana.”
“Wait.” Danny shifted to face Miller. “I thought you said the FBI would be protecting her!”
“We were. But she didn’t want to stay here, said either we charge her with something or she was leaving.”
“God, she can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Danny sighed. “I would have liked to have said good-bye to her. I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”
“Can’t you call up there?”
“I can try. But her sister was never my biggest fan.”
Miller smoothed the blanket over his lap, picking at the fluffy pieces of lint scattered across its surface. “How’d Amanda find out you were gay?”
“She probably suspected for a long time. But then when Griff got out of Leavenworth, he was hanging around a lot. She put two and two together.”
The muscle in Miller’s jaw hardened, like a walnut under the skin, as he remembered those cool blue eyes reminding him he didn’t know Danny as well as he thought he did.
Know him a lot better now, you prick.
“So you were cheating on her.”
“Yeah.” Danny scrubbed at his face with both hands, his coffee cup balanced between his knees. “I was a shitty husband.”
Miller wasn’t going to disagree, although given his performance as a fiancé he didn’t have much room to talk. “I’m surprised you guys never had kids. You were married long enough.”
“Five years. But I was in prison for some of that. And neither one of us was that thrilled with the idea of kids, thank God. I hate to think how bad we’d have fucked one up.” Danny gave Miller a sideways glance, his bottom lip hooked between his teeth. “What about you and Rachel? Kids on the agenda?”
“That’s the plan.” Miller’s voice sounded tired, not able to kick up any enthusiasm behind his words. It would be fair to say that, since he’d met Danny, he had barely given a passing thought to Rachel, even on the afternoon he’d spent at her apartment. He felt guilty that he didn’t feel guiltier, that his desire for Danny surpassed his loyalty to a woman who had never intentionally done anything to hurt him and probably never would. Speaking about Rachel with Danny now, after they were lovers, bringing her into this room they shared, made real the damage Miller was doing… to her, to Danny, to himself. He didn’t want Danny and Rachel to mingle, in his life or in his mind. The results were too confusing—his thoughts so jumbled in his head he wasn’t even sure which one of them he was betraying.
“WHERE ARE you going?”
Miller grabbed his car keys from the scarred top of the dresser, long fingers of wood missing from the surface. “To get us some dinner. I’m going to swing by my place, too, for some clothes. And I need a suit for later in the week.”
Danny hopped off the bed where he’d been watching the news, tossing the remote over his shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”
“Danny….”
“I think it’s safer if we stick together as much as we can,” Danny said, pulling on his boots.
“All right,” Miller nodded. “Come on.”
It was barely past five thirty and already dark, their headlights cutting golden swat
hs across the faces of pedestrians crossing on the busy downtown corners, everyone in such a rush to get home.
“I was wondering,” Miller said, tapping his index fingers against the wheel. “Is there anywhere Madrigal hangs out here? A base camp? Maybe we should stop waiting for him to find us.”
“No. He doesn’t put down roots. He only lands somewhere when he’s doing a job, finds a warehouse or an abandoned building and goes to work, then gets out.” Danny leaned back against the headrest. “He likes those types of places because there’s never anyone around to hear the screaming.”
“He ever use the same place twice?”
“I seriously doubt it. Last time he was here he used an abandoned house on the Paseo, but there are dozens of those, no reason to risk coming back to the same place. The time before that it was a warehouse in the West Bottoms.” Danny craned his neck to look out the window as they pulled into the lot of a four-story brick building. “This your apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“I love the way they’re restoring all these old buildings.”
“This one used to be a paper mill,” Miller said, stepping out into the parking lot. “We can take the fire escape.”
Danny’s boots clanked against the metal steps as they worked their way up to the top floor. Miller unlocked the heavy door and pointed Danny toward the apartment at the end of the hall. The building was quiet, the only noise the faint murmur of TV laughter creeping out from under the door of Miller’s nearest neighbor.
Miller’s apartment was cold and dark and already had that peculiar odor of space left too long without human company. Miller flipped a switch near the door and a floor lamp in the living room winked into life. Silver ductwork glinted in the fifteen-foot ceilings, crumbly old red brick exposed on three walls, the fourth lined with tall windows. The floors were gleaming glossy oak, a few throw rugs warming up their cold shine.
“You keep your place neat,” Danny said, eyes roaming over the uncluttered surfaces, the even stack of magazines on the dark wood coffee table, the carefully arranged books on the narrow shelves against the far wall.
Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits Page 59