"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't stay here or I'd have gone off my nut. I went for a drive and ended up at the Parisian. We went back to his apartment."
"And then what?" Nathan asked. He would bet his bottom dollar Harlan hadn't had sex with Julius, and seeing as how Nathan had been the one to do him wrong in the first place, he decided he would only make Harlan sweat a little.
"We did some petting, nothing more," Harlan replied quickly, his hand going up in promise.
"That's all?"
Harlan gave him a quick nod. "I swear, Nate. I couldn't go through with it, no matter how mad I was at you. We ended up talking."
"What about?" Now Nathan was curious. He was fully aware the kid had a crush on Harlan, but he didn't mind. A lot of folks had a crush on Harlan. For all his intimidating ways, he could be a sweet lug when he wanted to be. He also had a way of making people feel safe, and who didn't want that nowadays? Then of course there were the folks who took one look at the cut of his suit and saw the almighty dollar sign. Those were the ones Nathan watched out for. Harlan had a good heart, and sadly, some folks tried to take advantage of that. He hoped Harlan didn't think him to be one of them.
"We talked about you, about what happened. Everything he said made sense. Said if I could come to my senses, then it was possible you would have too," Harlan murmured, his face growing somewhat flushed.
"He seems like a right guy," Nathan said nonchalantly. "Kinda sweet on you. Pretty fella too."
"Nate," Harlan warned. "Are you telling me you weren't attracted to him?"
Nathan opened his mouth, then blew Harlan a raspberry. "All right, fine. Wrong place, wrong time, I get it." He smiled wickedly as he cupped Harlan, bringing the most charming, startled expression from him. "These are mine. You don't fuck anyone but me. Got it?"
Harlan peered at him warily, then burst into laughter. He grabbed Nathan and crushed him against his chest, kissing him tenderly. "I love you, Nate."
"I love you too, you big dope." He snuggled up to Harlan, his heart doing little flips and jumps for joy. "Oh, and you're taking me out on the town tomorrow night."
"I am?" Harlan asked, sounding amused.
"You bet. I want a steak the size of your car, with the works. And then you're taking me to see that new Buster Keaton picture."
"But I wanted to see Don Q. Son of Zorro," Harlan whined.
"No deal, Mackay. You just want to see a whip-wielding Fairbanks in thigh-high boots, and that'll give you all kinds of screwy ideas. I ain't wearing no thigh-high boots, not even for you."
Harlan let out a deep chuckle, and Nathan closed his eyes, happy to lie there listening to Harlan's heartbeat. He couldn't guarantee he wouldn't do something equally stupid in the future, but if he did, it wouldn't be because he was unfaithful to Harlan.
"Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"No more suffering in silence. What we saw over there... what we experienced? No one walked away from that untouched. I know you're trying to protect me, but don't. I love you, all of you, and I'm here with you. Let me help."
A lump formed in Nathan's throat, and he squeezed Harlan, needing to burrow in the man's beautiful soul. "Sometimes... it's so bad I try to scream, and I can't."
Harlan nuzzled his face against Nathan's hair before planting a kiss on his brow. "I'm sorry. I should have been more attentive."
"It's not your fault. I did my best to hide it from you."
"We do enough hiding, Nate. Never again. Not from each other."
Nathan lifted his face, greedily accepting everything Harlan offered. He took comfort in Harlan's words. No more suffering on his own. Harlan was everything to Nathan. He couldn't imagine his life without the man in his arms. Harlan wasn't just his lover, he was his best friend. There was no one Nathan confided in, trusted with his life, would do anything for, more than Harlan Mackay, and he would happily spend the rest of his life proving it, if that's what it took.
Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in his life, he slept peacefully.
Chapter Six
THE NEXT morning, when Harlan woke up, Nathan was gone.
He was ashamed to admit, his first reaction had been fear, and it took a hell of a lot to convince himself Nathan hadn't made tracks. Despite their reconciliation, he knew worrying about losing Nathan to his old ways was a battle he would always be fighting, but as Julius stated, it was worth it. Even if the guy did drive him off his nut at times.
With a groan, he sat up, his muscles protesting every movement. It was only when he rubbed his neck that he noticed the nearly illegible note on Nathan's pillow.
At the office. Something I have to do. Breakfast is in the refrigerator, make sure you wash the dishes and take out the trash. x Nate.
"Dammit, I hate washing dishes." Grumbling, Harlan got out of bed and started his day. But his mind kept wandering.
Nathan hated mornings. As it was, Harlan was always the one having to drag him out of bed, and in the winter, it took double the amount of time, with Nathan clinging to him for warmth. It took nothing short of a crowbar to detach him. Of course, Harlan was a resourceful sort, and he quickly learned how to efficiently remove Nathan and deposit him beside the radiator. It usually earned him a dirty look, but at least it worked.
After a somewhat abridged morning routine, he left for the office, unable to keep from wondering what could possibly be of such importance it had Nathan up and out so early.
Less than two hours later, Harlan was sitting at his desk, filling out a report on the raid at Shifty's, when someone knocked on his door. Looking up, he found himself frowning.
"What can I do for you, Agent Brogan?" Harlan asked, turning his attention back to his paperwork. When he heard the door close, he sighed and shut the file before him. Just what his morning needed. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned back in his chair and met Danny's gaze.
The agency was rather empty at this time of morning, but that didn't mean they could take any chances. It helped that Harlan and Nathan had a decent-sized office all to themselves at the end of the floor, even if it was a result of their supervisor attempting to keep Nathan as far away from his own office as physically possible.
"Nate asked me to meet him early this morning," Danny replied in a quiet voice, taking a seat across from Harlan's desk. He looked sharp as usual. "Frankly, I was a little surprised, considering his aversion to waking up before noon."
It wasn't so much what Danny said as how he said it. Clearly he meant to rile some response out of Harlan.
Harlan refused to take the bait. "Other than the fact it left me to do the dishes, what's your point?"
Danny looked a little surprised but quickly recovered. "Look, what happened was my fault. I didn't mean to cause any trouble between you fellas."
Harlan gave a nod and leaned forward, his elbows on the desk and his fingers laced. "I appreciate you saying so, Danny Boy, but you see, the thing is, I don't believe that for a second."
"Harlan, I wanted--"
"I know what you wanted," Harlan interrupted, his narrowed gaze not leaving Danny's. "I'm telling you right now, you ain't getting it. I respect what you boys had, but the key word there is had. You try something like that again, and the next time I won't be so respectful."
Danny nodded his understanding and gave Harlan a small smile. "That's sort of what he said." At Harlan's puzzled expression, Danny elaborated. "This morning's little rendezvous was him laying down the law. I could be a part of his life again, as long as I understood we would never be more than friends. He also said if I did anything to hurt you like that again, he'd break my legs."
Harlan couldn't keep the dopey grin on his face from getting dopier. "He'll do it too."
"You ain't kidding," Danny said with a laugh. "I remember when we were kids, I used to jump out of the bushes to scare him, and one day, he warned me not to do it again. Well, the next time I did it, he socked me so hard, he knocked one of my teeth r
ight out."
That made Harlan laugh, and Danny joined him. When Nathan said he'd do something, he usually did. The door suddenly opened, and the man in question walked in, looked around the room with the oddest expression, and then walked straight up to Danny and pinched him in the arm. Hard.
"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Danny moaned, rubbing his arm.
"Sorry, I wanted to check that I was still awake," Nathan replied, taking his seat behind his own desk to Harlan's right. Danny looked at Harlan, who smiled. One would think the guy was used to Nathan's screwy ways by now.
Danny cast Nathan a daggered look. "You're supposed to pinch yourself, you halfwit."
"You kidding?" Nathan laughed, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on his desk. "That smarts."
"You don't say." Danny turned back to Harlan with a frown. "I was going to head down to the Sixth to pay our little friend a visit, but I wanted to check in with you boys first, seeing as how you brought him in. If I'd known the only reason Dench sent me was to stick it to Nate, I would've told him to sit on his thumb."
Harlan glanced over at Nathan and wasn't surprised to see the sour expression on his face. "Yeah, he and Nate don't see eye to eye. It doesn't help that the less-than-flattering nickname that's been going around was started by a certain bigmouthed agent." Harlan gave a little nod in Nathan's direction and chuckled at Danny's stunned expression.
Danny turned his gaze to Nathan and gaped at him. "You're the one who came up with 'Dentures'?"
Nathan grinned.
"Anyway, as much as I would love to sit here all day discussing our superior's oral condition--"
"Never, never, use the word oral in the same sentence as Dench," Nathan interjected, giving a shudder. "It's forbidden." He tapped his finger on the desk. "From this point forward, I'm decreeing it an official law."
At Danny's arched eyebrow, Harlan felt the need to elaborate on that. "He decrees many laws, so get used to it. There are more laws in this office than in the state of New York, though most of them are on his side of the room. If you want sauerkraut on your hot dog, I suggest you eat it on this side of the room."
Danny stood and turned to Harlan. "I'm going to address you, since you seem to be sanest." His composure grew surprisingly awkward, not something Harlan associated with Danny Brogan.
"What's the real reason you want us to come along?" Harlan asked, peering at Danny, who now had his hands shoved in his pockets. It was a gesture that seemed to indicate he was feeling uncertain about something, which Harlan figured wasn't a frequent occurrence.
"I think I've made somewhat of a bad impression on your friend Detective Flynn."
Harlan and Nathan exchanged glances before Nathan said what Harlan was thinking. "So? Since when do you care about that sort of thing?" The penny seemed to drop, and Nathan all but fell off his chair. He scrambled to his feet and nearly assaulted Danny, throwing an arm around his shoulders while poking him in the chest.
"You like him!" Nathan whispered hoarsely.
"Dry up," Danny murmured, slapping Nathan's hand away from his chest. "He seems like a right guy, and I put him on the spot, going in there guns blazing. He wasn't too happy with me."
Nathan shook his head. He was all but bursting at the seams. "Now pull the other one, Danny Boy."
Danny's expression turned lewd, and he gave Harlan the up and down. "He reminds me of you."
That sobered Nathan up like a bucket of icy water poured over his head, much to Harlan's amusement. "Hey, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You know me," Danny spoke smoothly, straightening Nathan's tie for him. "I like a challenge. And if your friend John is anything like your brooding beau, it could be fun."
Harlan stood and walked to the coatrack to fetch his overcoat. Once he had it on, he grabbed his hat and turned to Danny, his voice grave. "If you're serious about John, I'll put in a good word for you." Stepping up to Danny, he put his hand on the guy's shoulder and squeezed none too gently. "But if you're planning on making a sap outta him, you'll be dealing with me. John's a good man with his own demons. He doesn't need you adding to them. You have a real good think about your intentions."
Swallowing hard, Danny gave a little nod and followed Harlan out of the room, with Nathan cheerfully whistling beside them.
This was going to be a long day, Harlan was sure of it.
Thankfully, the car ride to the Sixth was uneventful. Well, mostly uneventful. Harlan had been forced to threaten Danny and Nathan with getting tossed out on their asses if they didn't shut their traps and stop the childish argument over who was funnier, Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd.
Once they arrived, it was clear Danny was absolutely correct in assuming John wasn't happy with him. The moment John laid his silver-gray eyes on Danny, his broad grin turned into a thin-lipped smile.
"Fellas," he greeted, folding his beefy arms over his chest. Harlan noticed Danny's eyes follow the movement, his gaze fixed on John's expansive chest and the muscles of his forearms. John wasn't one to wear a jacket any longer than he had to, and his rolled-up sleeves added to his brash personality. He pinned Danny with a glare. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Danny cleared his throat and discreetly elbowed Harlan in the ribs.
"John, Agent Brogan here would like to apologize for acting like a complete pill in your precinct," Harlan said, turning to Danny and arching an eyebrow. "Isn't that right, Agent Brogan?"
"Right." Danny held out a hand to John, who merely looked at it, his frown deepening. "Detective Flynn, I apologize for my behavior. It was unacceptable, and I was hoping we could start over. I'm Agent Danny Brogan from Chicago, newly appointed to New York City's Prohibition Unit. It's a pleasure to meet you."
John's gaze shifted to Harlan, who was promptly prodded by Nathan. Damn it all. Hoping he wouldn't regret it, he gave John a subtle nod. With a resigned sigh, John took Danny's hand and shook it.
"Detective John Flynn," John grunted. "I expect you to behave yourself in my station, Harvard."
Danny opened his mouth, only to have Harlan give him a kick. Stifling a curse, Danny forced out a smile. "Sure thing."
Heading toward the back of the station, Harlan agreed to let Danny and Nathan interrogate Shifty, seeing as how Shifty would all but wet himself as soon as he laid eyes on Danny, and Nathan would be there representing the lesser of the two evils.
As Harlan sat in the empty interrogation room next door with John, he noticed his friend was pensive, and he knew exactly what was occupying John's thoughts.
"What do you want to know?" Harlan offered. "Keep in mind, I met him the same day you did. He and Nate were childhood friends."
John gave him a penetrating look, and Harlan chuckled. The guy had always been too smart for his own good. "Yeah, that too."
"Yet he's still in one piece?" John asked curiously.
"We had a... miscommunication, but that's been resolved." Harlan leaned forward, and John did the same, his interest clearly piqued. Harlan wondered how long John had been thinking about dear old Danny Boy. "I ain't gonna feed you no lines, John. The kid's arrogant, screwy in the head ten ways from Sunday, illusive, ambitious, dangerous, and possibly on the take."
John let out a sigh and started to sit back, when Harlan held a hand up. "But, Nate obviously sees something in him that I don't, and you know Nate's never wrong about these things. Maybe he just needs someone to take a chance on him. Hell, maybe he'll surprise all of us."
"I don't know, Harlan." John shook his head and ran a hand through his dark hair. "He's a looker, no doubt about it, but I got enough troubles. Besides, he's gotta be what, Nate's age?"
"Yeah, thereabouts. Twenty-nine, I think."
"Jesus, he's just a kid."
"He's only a year younger than me," Harlan reminded him.
John gave him a wicked grin, causing little lines to form at the corners of his silver eyes. "Yeah, but you're old on the inside."
"Thanks," Harlan muttered, cast
ing him a sideways glance. "Thirty-seven ain't old, John."
"Sure as hell feels like it sometimes," John grumbled, stretching out his long legs, his expression growing troubled, and not because of Danny.
"What's wrong?" Harlan asked. Whatever was concerning John, it was obviously keeping him awake at night, judging by his somewhat scruffy appearance. Granted, John was one of those fellows who seemed to sport permanent stubble, but he didn't usually look so haggard.
"I got a rat in the precinct."
"What?" Harlan certainly hadn't expected that. "How is that possible?" He knew exactly how it was possible. Every man had his price, so they said. It was only a matter of time before someone at the Sixth gave in to temptation. John's reputation and good intentions could only go so far.
"I don't know. All my boys know that if they got money troubles, they come see me and we'll sort something out. If they got beef, we take care of it like men. No double-crossing." He stood and started pacing. "It started off small, but somehow it's gotten out of hand. Files and evidence have gone missing, documents forged, hoods released due to lack of evidence, charges dropped, even had a witness hang himself, and no one saw a goddamn thing. It's a mess, Harlan. I don't know who I can trust."
"Dammit, John, I--" Harlan was cut off by a gunshot, quickly followed by a second shot. Harlan jumped to his feet, and they both ran for the door. A horrible, sick feeling washed over him, and when he heard Nathan screaming for him, his heart plummeted. All he could think of as he ran out the door was Please, God, let Nate be okay.
Chapter Seven
"HARLEY!"
Harlan was the first in the room, with John nearly knocking him over when Harlan came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the sight of Nathan cradling Danny in his arms, one hand applying pressure to a patch of crimson on Danny's side that was quickly spreading. At not seeing Shifty, Harlan's first instinct was to think the bastard had escaped, but when his gaze moved to the floor and the pool of blood under the small wooden table, it was clear Shifty had gone nowhere.
"What the hell happened?" John asked as he ran to Nathan's side and kneeled. He slipped a hand under Danny's head and used the other to check Danny's pulse. "He's still alive."
Roses in the Devil's Garden Page 5
