Unbreak My Heart (Heroes of Port Dale Book 4)

by Romeo Alexander

  “Huh,” Blaine grunted.

  Eric looked up, blinking. He’d been staring at the message in front of him without really seeing it. “Uh, what?”

  “You’ve got it open, weren’t you reading the message?” Blaine asked.

  The wry tone almost had Eric flushing again, but he kept the reaction at bay. “Was making a grocery list in my head. Forgot to go this weekend.”

  Blaine made a faint noise of understanding, though Eric would swear there was amusement under it. “The report on the gadgets came back.”

  Eric straightened, focusing on the message in front of him. “Let’s see here…”

  Blaine waved a hand at him obligingly. “Be my guest. I tried reading the thing, and it made less sense than the time the corps accidentally sent me a list of medical supplies.”

  “Why did the corps send you a list of medical supplies?”

  “I said it was an accident.”

  “Since you weren’t medical, that’s one hell of an accident.”

  “Not when it was supposed to go to my CO instead. Handy to know the treatments for uh...things.”

  Eric tore his gaze away to raise a brow at Blaine. “Things?”

  “Classified, dangerous things.”

  “Right.”

  He really didn’t want to know.

  “Seems like,” Eric said, reading over the analysis. “Most of the parts of these little gadgets are plastic.”

  “Smart, that would melt like ice in fire,” Blaine said.

  Eric nodded. “But you still need metal bits. Helps with structural integrity and getting some of that oomph you need.”

  “With the right tools, you could get all the bits and bobs you need from anywhere and build it at home,” Blaine pointed out.

  “True,” Eric drew out, tapping at the keyboard.

  “Mm, I’m sensing a ‘but’ somewhere in there.”

  Eric smirked. “But, apparently, our little firestarter is fond of a very particular type of metal.”

  “That being…”

  Eric pulled up the name and frowned at it. “A very long name for what’s essentially a specific type of alloy. But apparently, everyone calls it ‘Rice Metal.’ It’s not used for anything but specialty goods.”

  “Rice metal?”

  “Comes in little cylinders that can be melted down and used in molds or hammered out if someone wants. Apparently, cuts down on waste.”

  “Ah, shaped like rice.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Which means our arsonist is stealing it, or they’re specially ordering it.”

  Eric nodded. “And because our decent computers can actually run the fucking fancy programs they installed on them, I can make it do the busy work for everyone.”

  Blaine snorted. “I noticed the chief didn’t include anyone else in this alert.”

  “Because he likes me,” Eric said smugly.

  “Or he was trying to keep you busy for the day.”

  “Rude.”

  Blaine only chuckled as Eric set the program running to start searching within specific parameters. They would need to find the places that ordered the material specifically, though he was leaning more toward the private than the business orders. He took a moment to fire his thoughts off to Morgan, knowing they were probably going to need a warrant to get the company to hand over the information. Otherwise, he could punch everything else in.

  “Well?” Blaine asked.

  Eric snorted. “Please. Weren’t you paying attention in your training? This isn’t going to pop up overnight and be in our hands. We’ll be lucky if we get the chance to do anything this week. If Morgan’s feeling feisty, he might have what we need tomorrow, but…”

  Blaine slumped back in his seat. “I guess that means we sit around and do nothing all day again. Great.”

  Eric’s eyes flickered thoughtfully to the computer. “We could always continue combing through the other files we have. There’s bound to be something we missed that might be useful later.”

  He didn’t bother to hide his grin as Blaine groaned, thumping his head back against the wall behind him. His partner hated paperwork with a passion that went beyond even the average officer’s dislike. Despite Eric having always been the one pegged for being restless, it was Blaine who had a hard time sitting still. So long as Eric’s mind was occupied, he was content to be left alone. Blaine, however, had to be moving, or he would start getting restless, and a restless Blaine was an irritating force of nature.

  “If you need to work off some energy, there’s always the gym downstairs,” Eric told him.

  Blaine eyed him. “Uh-huh. You going to find yourself down there again after I get out of the shower?”

  Eric froze, mouth working soundlessly as he tried to find the words. He had avoided going to the precinct’s gym the last time because he’d appreciated having a couple of hours to himself to slack off. He’d gone downstairs to find Blaine when he thought the man had been gone long enough. Eric had sat in the stacks of the records room, trying to work up the nerve to go ask his partner if he wanted to get a couple of drinks.

  For friendly reasons.

  “I was not,” Eric began hotly, glaring at Blaine. “Going down there for anything other than to give you a friendly invitation.”

  “Never said you weren’t.”

  “You are insinuating.”

  “I don’t insinuate Eric, you know that.”

  “How could I? I haven’t known you for eight years.”

  Blaine’s lips turned down, though his gaze stayed glittering. “I’m pretty sure I made myself clear on Friday. None of that.”

  Eric huffed, turning his attention away from Blaine. Yeah, his partner had definitely made himself clear, and in more than one way. Eric could still feel Blaine’s mouth on his, and a shiver ran down his back at the memory of the man’s possessive grip on his waist. For all his independence and refusal to bow to authority, Eric had always loved the silent but powerful possessiveness Blaine had over him when they were alone.

  And it should piss him off that it obviously hadn’t gone away. He was supposed to be keeping Blaine at arm’s length, not jumping him in a goddamn alley. But there he’d been, literally panting with need while Blaine had driven him out of his mind with want and pleasure.

  “Oh, to be in your head right now,” Blaine all but purred.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Eric growled.

  “I haven’t mastered that particular trick.”

  He was not going to start imagining what that would look like.

  Eric motioned sourly toward the door. “Go, get rid of...whatever you have going on right now. You might want to slack on your work to go sweat all over the place, but I’m going to do my job.”

  Blaine pushed himself up from his desk, smirking now. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to be distracted.”

  “I am not distracted because of the reason you think,” Eric said.

  “Of course. You’re just...thinking hard about the case.”

  “Yes!”

  “Not about what we did.”

  “Shut your goddamn mouth.”

  “Or what I said.”

  “I swear to all things in this world that are good and pure, I will end you, Blaine.”

  Blaine stopped at the door, expression turning serious. “I meant what I said, by the way. All of it. Think on that while you’re ‘working’, will you?”

  Eric snatched up the empty Styrofoam cup from his desk and hurled it as best he could at Blaine. “Fuck off!”

  Blaine was already gone, though, and the cup hit the ground just past the door. It fluttered pathetically, rolling to a stop at the feet of Officer Cochran. David squinted down at the cup and then looked over to where Blaine was walking away.

  “He seems...amused,” David said, squinting.

  “Because he’s an ass,” Eric huffed. “What the hell do you want, David?”

  David’s gaze continued to linger on Blaine, the bastard’s laughter st
ill echoing down the hallway. Eric screwed up his eyes, trying very hard to keep himself in his chair and not trying to find another, far more reliable projectile to launch at the man.

  “Huh,” David finally grunted.

  “Oh, sweet baby Jesus, what?” Eric barked.

  “How’d he do it?” David asked.

  Eric rubbed his forehead. He knew he was going to end up with a headache soon. “Do what?”

  “Finally get you to stop being so...you.”

  Eric narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult me, because the nearest thing I have to throw is a stapler.”

  “Damn. Looks like I lost the bet.”

  “What bet?” Eric practically screeched.

  “Whether you guys would actually become best partners or end up in the hospital.”

  “Fuck my life,” Eric muttered.

  It wasn’t like he and Blaine were okay. Blaine might have given him a lot to think on, that was for sure, and not just the hot and heavy something that had gone down outside of the bar. He could remember Blaine trying to talk to him, trying to explain, back when he’d announced he’d signed up for the military. Eric only wished he could remember the man’s words.

  The one thing that stuck with him, though, was the mention of letters. The calls he could dismiss, he’d been forced to change his number after Blaine had left. Not because of Blaine, but because Eric had got royally drunk a week after Blaine had shipped out and dropped his phone in a lake. The damn thing was probably still at the bottom, along with all the pictures he would have forced himself to eventually delete.

  David was still standing there.

  “Do you have a reason to stand in my office like an ugly statue?” Eric asked him.

  David jerked back to life. “Oh, right. Your brother.”

  Eric turned quickly. “What about him?”

  David reached into his pockets. “He’s left a few messages for you. Apparently, you’re not answering your phone?”

  Eric’s expression fell flat. “You’re kidding.”

  David held out a few scraps of paper clutched between grease smeared fingers. “Nope.”

  Eric wrinkled his nose. “Christ, Cochran, wash your fucking hands.”

  “Ah, sorry. Was doing a little car maintenance before I came in.”

  Eric rolled his eyes, taking the papers and shooing David off. “Fine, fine. You’ve delivered your news, go wash your hands.”

  Sure enough, the few messages from his brother were a continuation of their conversation.

  If you don’t stop me, I’ll figure it out myself.

  Answer your phone. Or I’ll call him myself.

  They continued in the same tone until finally…

  Already texted him back. I’m sure it’ll be a good chat.

  “Unbelievable,” Eric growled.

  David shook his head as he walked off. “Ugh, tell me about it. I can’t believe I lost the bet. And I can’t believe the chief won.”

  Eric almost spilled himself out of his chair as he whirled around to screech indignantly out the door. “He what?”

  Blaine

  Staring through the windshield, he watched as Eric talked with the supervisor of the factory. The supervisor was nearly Blaine’s height, so he practically towered over Eric. To Blaine’s amusement, though, the burly man had taken to Eric quickly and had been more than willing to give them both a tour of the factory and answer any questions. Blaine suspected that the man’s blunt and rather rough manner had found kinship with Eric’s own.

  They were still waiting on the last address to come in, and Blaine was content to let himself get comfortable in the cruiser. Both he and Eric had spent the past couple of days running around the city, investigating, and interviewing all the locations that had dealt in the Rice Metal. Nothing had struck them as odd yet, but they’d made sure to take so many notes that Blaine was curious how many trees they’d used up in a forty-eight hour period.

  His phone buzzed, and Blaine drew it out of his pocket to stare at the message. It was from Sean, once again asking what Blaine wanted from him. Blaine stroked the edge of the phone thoughtfully, thinking that the other man knew exactly what he wanted. But Sean was a lot like Eric in some ways, including needing things to be said directly before he was willing to deal with a problem.

  Another glance at Eric told him that his partner would be occupied for a little while longer. There was only so long he could put off his call to Sean. He still wasn’t sure how Eric would feel about Blaine contacting his older brother, but he’d yet to bring it up.

  Sighing, Blaine hit the call button.

  “Oh, you’re actually calling me,” Sean said as a greeting.

  “If you weren’t on the other side of the city, I would have proposed we meet,” Blaine told him.

  Sean hummed. “That’s nice and ominous, Blaine.”

  “Only if you have a guilty conscience.”

  “Ah, the vague game, I remember this. You were always really good at it.”

  Blaine couldn’t help his smirk, his eyes flitting to Eric, who continued chatting. Sean sure did know Blaine, though not as well as he might think. Eight years of distance and plenty of life experience had done its work on Blaine.

  “You’re avoiding it just as much as I am,” Blaine told him.

  “But you’re the one coming to me.”

  “Fair. The letters.”

  He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and nothing else. Blaine’s eyes were on his partner as he patiently waited for Sean. There were over a dozen letters that he’d sent, that he’d painstakingly written out even when there was nothing left in the proverbial tank to fuel him. The letters where he’d laid his heart out to Eric, trying to get him to understand.

  “You really know how to get to the point now, don’t you?” Sean finally said, voice soft.

  “You’d be amazed what being shot at and almost blown up a few times does to someone’s sense of tact,” Blaine said.

  Damn it all, his suspicion had been right. He’d known when Sean had been cagey, not calling Blaine when there had been plenty of opportunity in the past week. Blaine had told himself that he shouldn’t jump to conclusions until he knew for sure, until the facts were irrefutable.

  Blaine sighed. “You did get them.”

  Sean was silent for several seconds. “Yes. I found the first one, and I kept an eye out for the rest.”

  “And Eric never knew,” Blaine said, thinking of the flash of confusion he’d seen on Eric’s face when he’d brought up the letters in the alley.

  “No, I never told him. As far as he knew, when you left, you were gone for good and never looked back.”

  Blaine took a deep breath, hand gripping the phone hard. “Did you read them?”

  “No.”

  Another breath. He would remain calm, he could stay in control. This was Sean, the man who had shown infinite patience with Eric, and boundless love. This man was everything to the man Blaine was in love with, had never stopped loving.

  “Why?” Blaine finally asked.

  “Because he was a shell of a man after you left, Blaine. For months, I didn’t recognize my own brother, it was worse than when our parents died. I was terrified of what would happen if something pushed him harder. Jesus, he had a meltdown over the grocery store not having his cereal, that was four months after you left. What the hell would he have done if he’d read your letters?”

  Blaine narrowed his eyes. “Who am I, Sean?”

  “What?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “You’re Blaine.”

  “Right. And what was Eric to me?”

  “Your best friend.”

  “My best friend, lover, and the person I would do anything for.”

  “Except stay.”

  Blaine gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what the equivalent of the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree is for brothers, but I see you two think alike.”

  �
�Can you blame me? Him?”

  “Him? No, well, not really. If he had listened, we could have avoided a lot. But he was hurt, scared of losing someone else. But you? You, I can blame. Those were not your letters, Sean. You had no right. None at all.”

  “You think you’re the only one who loved him?”

  “Love.”

  The heat in Sean’s voice withered. “What?”

  “I love him. That hasn’t changed. And if he’d read those letters, been able to read them, he would have known that. For over a year, I wrote to him, desperate to get him to understand, to hear the things that he didn’t on the day it...ended. But he didn’t get that chance, Sean, because you made the choice for him.”

  “He was broken!” Sean barked, voice quavering. “He was lost and damn near out of control! You had no right to add to that!”

  Blaine shook his head. “Sean, you’re better than that.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re better than thinking so low of him. Eric is an emotional, moody, sensitive pain in the ass, and sometimes he overreacts, he makes a mess, he throws a fit, and he stomps his feet. Sometimes he’s selfish and often rude, but he is not and has never been ‘broken’.”

  “You didn’t see him.”

  “No, but I know him. You had no right to get rid of those letters. They were his and his alone.”

  Sean sucked in a breath, then went silent. Blaine frowned, cocking his head at the sudden silence.

  And then he realized.

  “You still have them,” Blaine whispered.

  “I...kept them. Never opened them, but...as much as I wanted to keep him safe, you’re right, they were his,” Sean admitted.

  Blaine took a steady breath, nodding. “Do you trust me, Sean?”

  “Blaine.”

  “Do you trust that I love your brother and that I would never do anything to hurt him?”

  “Not on purpose, no. But we always hurt the ones we love most, Blaine. You didn’t see him, you didn’t see how he was.”

  “No,” Blaine admitted, chest aching. “I didn’t. But I know what he felt, I know what he went through because I was going through the same thing. And now…”

  “Now?”

  Blaine shook his head. “Now is the time for you to give back what wasn’t yours in the first place.”