Broken Wings

by Bethany Brown

  “You’re kind of a shithead, aren’t you?”

  “Little bit, yeah.”

  “Definitely no on the date, then,” Caleb replied. Looking at the relaxed smile that he had on his face, Patrick leaned across the space between them and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When he pulled back, Caleb was staring at him in surprise. “What was that for?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me twenty minutes where I didn’t feel like shit.” Patrick grinned at him. “Now get out of my car.”

  Patrick watched as Caleb climbed out of the car and made his way over to one of the vehicles parked in the lot. He tried to make a show of ogling his ass, especially when the other man wiggled his hips for him, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Patrick managed to force a smile to his face when Caleb glanced over his shoulder with a grin, but he could feel his stomach churning. He stayed parked in his car while Caleb pulled out of the lot. Once the other man had waved as he passed, Patrick dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He took a few deep breaths and tried to push back the rising anguish.

  Groaning, Patrick sat back up. He felt like he had a hole in his chest. Checking the traffic, Patrick pulled onto the street and headed home. He had a new family member to welcome to his house. Hopefully, Bingo wouldn’t mind living with a heartbroken man.

  Chapter 2

  CRACK.

  The pool balls scattered across the table as the cue ball hit them. Patrick watched as two went into the pockets. Both balls were stripes. He growled in annoyance and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Looking down the table, he glared at his opponent.

  Justine’s green eyes laughed at him. She arched one red eyebrow and fired off another shot without looking at the table. Another striped ball went into the pocket. She grinned as she raised herself from the crouch she had been in. She surveyed the table and lined up one more shot. This one, she actually missed. Justine looked up from the table again. “Your shot.”

  “It’s about fucking time.”

  “Not my fault that I’m better than you.” Justine tossed a braid over her shoulder. The taunt had an added musical lilt due to her Irish accent.

  “Sometimes I really hate you,” Patrick muttered. He wandered around the pool table until he found a shot that he liked. Leaning over the table, he took his shot. The shot went wide. “Damn it!”

  “Little tense there, partner.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Watch the tone, Patrick,” Justine responded. The anger in her voice caused Patrick to look up. Straightening from his crouch, Patrick took a long look at his partner.

  While the two braids that hung over her shoulders should have made her look vulnerable, the rest of her appearance proved that vulnerable was the last thing that she was. She was wearing a white tank top and a faded pair of ripped jeans. Her exposed arms were covered in tattoos. Vines mixed with traditional Celtic symbols wove their way from shoulder to wrist. Two doves were visible rising from beneath the neckline of her shirt. Justine crossed her arms under her fairly decent cleavage and glared. The glare had made stronger men than Patrick pee their pants in terror.

  Hearing the door to the bar open, Patrick turned his head to see the new arrival. He was small, slender, and wearing scrubs. His blond hair was sticking up in disheveled spikes, as if he had spent a large amount of time running his hands through it. Hazel eyes scanned the room until they landed on Patrick. A smile crossed his handsome face, and he turned to call to someone behind him.

  Patrick spun back to glare at Justine. “What is Keith doing here?”

  “Not just Keith.” Justine pointed back over his shoulder. Patrick turned once again and saw Cam and Jeremy enter behind Keith.

  “What’s going on, Sparky?”

  “You’ve been home for almost a week, and all you’ve done is smoke and snap at everyone.”

  “I also got a dog.”

  “That doesn’t count! You don’t go out anymore.”

  “I’m out here with you, aren’t I?”

  “I had to drag you out here, Patrick. You’re turning into a hermit!”

  “Maybe I want to be a hermit!”

  “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” Jeremy asked. Patrick turned to see him leaning against the pool table and smiling at them. The smile seemed strained around the edges, as if he wasn’t sure of his welcome. Cam was tucked against his side, and the look on his face echoed his lover’s. All of that concern being sent his way from the combined gazes of his friends was making Patrick angry.

  “We were wondering when the three of you were finally going to get here,” Justine remarked. She smiled brightly at everyone while Patrick grunted. She might have been wondering when they were going to get there, but Patrick hadn’t. He was just wondering when he would be allowed to leave.

  Cam walked over and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, Pat.”

  “Hey, Shutterbug.” Patrick pulled his best friend closer and placed a kiss to the top of his head. It wasn’t Cam’s fault that he was in a bad mood.

  “Hey.” Cam pulled away and landed a gentle kiss on his chin. “Have you been smoking again?”

  “Maybe.” Patrick could feel himself tense at the reproach he heard in Cam’s voice.

  “I thought you gave up smoking the first time that you got shot?”

  “I may have started again.”

  “But why—”

  “Look, how about we just play a game of pool and leave all the deep, meaningful talks for another time?”

  “Sure, Patrick. We just came here to see you,” Cam replied. He nodded at Patrick and moved back to Jeremy’s side. Patrick felt a faint surge of guilt as he watched him go.

  Glancing around the bar, Patrick spotted Keith talking to Mac, the bartender. Even over the din of the other patrons, Patrick could hear Keith’s clear laughter. He watched as an attractive man leaned closer to Keith’s trim form. Patrick grunted in surprise as Keith moved away from the younger man. The last that Patrick had heard, Keith hadn’t been seeing anyone. Either he had started dating someone without telling Patrick, or for some reason he wasn’t interested in picking up tonight.

  Patrick turned back to the pool table and picked his beer up off of the table edge. He poured the remaining contents of the beer down his throat, then thumped the empty bottle back on the table. What he really needed was a stronger drink, but he didn’t want to start down that path. Drowning his sorrows in booze was not a good idea. He couldn’t do his job if he was a drunk, and the last thing he wanted to do was to get shot again. Twice was more than enough.

  “Why don’t we start the game over? Your friends did just get here,” Justine remarked. There was a sweet smile on her face that didn’t match the wicked look in her eyes. She had him trapped, and she knew it.

  “You will pay for this, Sparky. Trust me on that one.”

  Justine snorted. “Please, like you scare me.”

  Patrick glared at her. Sometimes he hated how well his partner knew him. Looking away from her, he found himself staring at the bar. A jolt of pain slashed through his heart as he saw the familiar shape of Mac and not the blond head that he wanted to see. God, he missed Brad something fierce. A bit of his pain must have been visible on his face, because he suddenly found himself with a photographer attached to his waist.

  “Something you need, Shutterbug?”

  “You looked sad,” Cam replied. He had his head tucked under Patrick’s chin. Patrick sighed and wrapped both arms around the smaller man. He pulled him close and rested his cheek against the top of Cam’s head. “You’re a good friend, Cameron.”

  “You know that you’re family, don’t you?”

  “I know, Shutterbug, I know.” Patrick placed one last kiss to the top of Cam’s head and then pushed the smaller man out of his arms. “Feel up to a game of pool?”

  “You always win.”

  “I know.” Patrick grinned at him. “That’s why I asked you. Justine’s been kicking my ass.”<
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  Cam laughed. “Well, I guess I can play. You should be allowed to win at least one game tonight.”

  Patrick smiled as Cam set up the table. He let the other man break, and his smile widened when not a single ball went in. Patrick lined up a shot and dropped the first ball he aimed at. “Looks like I’m solids.”

  “Sure.”

  “I can’t believe that you let him talk you into playing pool. You suck,” Jeremy announced. He placed two beers on the edge of the table. Patrick saluted him with the bottle in thanks. He watched as Cam took his first shot. It went wide. Grinning, Patrick moved back to the table. It looked like he would at least be able to win one game.

  Four games later, Patrick was watching in awe as Keith held his own against Justine. She’d trounced both him and Jeremy. Cam had refused to play her on the grounds that she was really good and he was really awful. Patrick was surprised at how good Keith was. He’d never played pool against the other man. Keith sunk the final ball, and Justine stared at him.

  “You beat me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That doesn’t happen often.” She grinned at him. “Let me buy you a beer.”

  “Okay,” Keith replied. He moved over to stand next to Patrick while Justine headed over to the bar. “You know, Trick, she’s not as scary as you make her out to be.”

  “You’re just saying that because you don’t have to spend all day with her. Trust me, if you saw her at work, you’d be singing a different tune.”

  “Sure. I think you’re lying.”

  “I am not.”

  “Uh-huh. She seems like a sweet lady to me.”

  “It’s a trick!”

  Keith laughed and gave Patrick a small shove. “You are such a baby.”

  Patrick was just about to put the smaller man in a headlock when there was a commotion at the doors. He looked up and spotted what all the men—and some of the women—in the bar were looking at.

  Kennedy had entered the bar, and she was dressed to kill. Her long blonde hair was twisted up into several braids, with some of the blue, purple, pink, and green streaks hanging free around her face. The black shirt she was wearing was trimmed in electric green and ended just below her breasts. Her pierced navel was visible above the waistline of the matching black skirt. When she turned slightly, Patrick saw why the men were staring. The skirt was slit nearly to her hips up the side and held closed with green lacing.

  “You’re a little overdressed for this place, Kiki,” Patrick remarked. He leaned against the edge of the pool table and stared. Justine returned and handed a beer to Keith.

  “I’m going clubbing,” Kennedy announced. She glared at a man who was staring at her ass before smiling sweetly at Patrick.

  “Then why are you here?” Patrick was starting to get a bad feeling.

  “Because when I go alone I tend to end up getting into fights. I need someone to go with me.”

  “Like a chaperone,” Cam supplied with a laugh. Kennedy gave him a glare, but he didn’t stop laughing. “Don’t look at me. The last time we went clubbing, you nearly got me arrested.”

  “It’s not my fault that guy wouldn’t stop grabbing my ass.”

  “You didn’t have to break his wrist.”

  “I warned him.” Kennedy tucked a pink strand of hair behind her ear. “Patrick, please come with me?”

  “What? Why me?”

  “I just want to go dancing and not get felt up by a bunch of creepy losers. Please.”

  “Where were you planning on going?”

  “I thought we could hit up Pulse.”

  The thought of losing himself in music while dancing with Kennedy was appealing. Pulse had a good mix of gay and straight patrons, so they shouldn’t get hit on too bad. However, Justine had set him up at the bar and invited all of his friends to come out with them. “We’re kind of enjoying ourselves, Kiki.”

  “You should go with her,” Justine remarked. Surprised, Patrick turned to face her. She gave him a small smile. “She’s almost as bad as you. She needs someone to make sure that she doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

  “You sure that you don’t mind?”

  “I think we can manage to amuse ourselves.”

  “Come on, Patrick. Justine even said that you should go. It’ll be fun.”

  Patrick sighed. “Fine, I’ll come with you. I’m just surprised that what I’m wearing is up to your standards.”

  Kennedy’s eyes traveled down his body, and Patrick looked down at himself. The jeans he was wearing were old and faded with rips at both knees. He was also fairly certain that there was a rip forming on his right ass cheek. The faded green T-shirt he was wearing had shrunk enough in the wash that he could feel it clinging to the muscles in his chest. Patrick gave the shirt a nervous tug as he lifted his eyes back to Kennedy. There was a rather wicked-looking smile on her face.

  “Patrick, I know you just tossed that on without thinking about it, but you still look good enough to eat.”

  “So I pass?”

  “You pass.” Kennedy smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes, boss.” Patrick turned and pulled Justine into a loose embrace. “Thanks, Sparky. I really did need this.”

  “I know.” She pulled out of his arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Try and behave yourself.”

  “Now where would be the fun in that?” Patrick flashed her a cheeky grin as he started to follow Kennedy out of the pub. He waved to his friends, pausing to kiss Cam’s cheek as they left. He took his battered leather jacket off of the hook by the door and shrugged into it while Kennedy started to tug him down the street. Patrick quickly caught up with her. “Are we walking?”

  “Pulse isn’t that far from here. Plus, after a month of relaxing, you need the exercise,” Kennedy teased. She tossed him a smile as she linked her arm through his.

  “Relaxing? Roz the slave driver had me working so hard I thought I was going to die!”

  “Oh, suck it up. You’re such a baby.”

  “I was shot!”

  “Like that’s an excuse.” Kennedy leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. Patrick pulled his arm away from hers in order to wrap it around her waist. Kennedy snuggled in against his side.

  “Aren’t you cold without a jacket?”

  “No. I have you to keep me warm.”

  “Just so you know, I’m not putting out.”

  Kennedy raised a hand to her chest. “Patrick, you wound me.”

  “Not putting out.”

  “What if I buy you a drink?”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow at her. “What kind of drink?”

  “A big one?”

  “Still not putting out.” Patrick and Kennedy laughed together as they reached the club. He pulled his arm away from her waist and held open the door. She gave him a small nod of thanks as she entered. Patrick followed behind her and was hit with a wave of sound as he entered the club.

  The club was full of people. They were drinking, dancing, and having an all-around good time. Kennedy grabbed his hand once more, and they wove their way through the throng of grooving bodies to the bar. The bartender, an attractive brunet with dark brown eyes, smiled when he saw them.

  “Hey, pretty lady.”

  “Dean.” Kennedy leaned over the bar and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “And Patrick. When did you get back in town, man?”

  “About a week ago. Hang onto my coat for me?”

  “Sure thing.” Dean reached across the bar and took the leather jacket from Patrick’s hand. “So, you’ve got guard duty tonight?”

  “Hey! I don’t need a guard.”

  “Of course you don’t, sunshine. I’m more concerned about the guys who try to cop a feel of that pretty little ass.”

  Kennedy made a face. “Break one wrist and the world turns against you.”

  “Stop pouting, Kiki. Come on, let’s dance.” Patrick gave Dean a wink before pulling Kennedy into the throng of dancing bodies.

 
It only took seconds for Kennedy to find the beat. The way that she moved to the music drew the attention of the people around them. Even though he was gay, Patrick had to admit that it was quite a sight. She moved like liquid sex.

  “Damn, Kiki, no wonder you make so much money stripping.”

  “It’s talent. Now put your hands on my hips and move with me. There’s a semi-decent looking guy behind you who is already staring at me,” Kennedy replied.

  “Wouldn’t that be a good thing? I thought you liked attractive guys.”

  “I do, but I just came here to dance.” Kennedy groaned and buried her face in Patrick’s chest. “Damn it, he’s coming over here.”

  “Patrick?”

  With Kennedy still in the circle of his arms, Patrick turned to face the man in question. He found himself staring into the green eyes of an attractive man. A familiar attractive man. An attractive man that he had seen naked. “Hunter?”

  A flirty smile crossed his face. “Hey, it’s been a while.”

  “Good lord, Patrick. Have you fucked everyone in this city?”

  Patrick frowned at Kennedy. “Not everyone.”

  “But you fucked him.”

  “Um, ‘him’ has a name,” Hunter interjected. He flashed Kennedy what Patrick knew was his most charming smile. “But you can call me whatever you want, beautiful.”

  “Really? You’re really using that as your opening line? I know that you’ve had sex with my friend and you’re using that as your opening line to try and pick me up?”

  “Now why would I use a line on you? I was just statin’ a fact. You gotta know that you’re hot.”

  A small smile crossed Kennedy’s face. “That’s better.”

  “You aren’t really going to fall for his line of bull, are you?”

  “Hey, you fell for it,” Hunter replied. He moved around Kennedy so he was in between the two of them with his arms looped around Patrick’s waist. “And I don’t remember hearing you complain. Although I do remember some screams.”

  Smiling, Patrick tugged on Kennedy’s waist so Hunter was trapped between them. He slowly started to sway to the music, pulling the other two into his rhythm. “I didn’t fall for anything. I was just horny.”