by L. A. Witt
Darren craned his neck. All along the edges of the park were thick shrubs. They were trimmed low to the ground, leaving just two inches or so of clearance. Though the city had been telling the gardeners to trim them higher, no one ever did. After all, without the foliage, where would everyone hide their guns while they went in to the courthouse?
He turned to me. “This park is always just littered with guns?”
I nodded and took a seat on a bench. “Can’t take them into the courthouse.”
“Wow.” He sat beside me. “So, what now?”
“Now we wait for our contact to come out of his court date.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“Very.”
The day was getting hotter as the morning wore on, so we both took off our jackets. I still had a loose shirt over the top of my shoulder holster, as did Darren—I preferred not to advertise that I was armed when I was in plainclothes.
We hung around on the bench, checking our phones and ignoring each other to pass the time. As the silence was becoming unbearable, a familiar face appeared.
“There he is.” I sat up, nodding toward Kenny and two of his friends.
Darren glanced at me. He was tense, like a bomb-sniffing dog waiting for the command, but he didn’t move. Wisely, he was following my lead.
We waited while Kenny and his buddies fished their pistols out from under the bushes. They holstered them—or in one case, stupidly tucked it into the crotch of his pants—and started to leave.
“Think he put the safety on?” I asked.
Darren snorted. “For his future children’s sake, let’s hope so.”
I chuckled and rose, gesturing for Darren to do the same. We started after Kenny.
And the world . . .
Shifted.
Darren grabbed my arm. “Andreas?”
I took a few deep breaths, willing the tunnel vision to clear and the sparkling to stop. “Yeah. I’m good. Sorry.” I kept walking because I needed to talk to Kenny, but . . . I wasn’t good.
After two steps, I wavered and had to grab the fence for balance. The sharp top bit into my palm, jarring my senses into focus.
Darren touched my arm. “You all right?”
I shrugged away from his touch. “I’m fine.”
“You eaten yet today?”
Gritting my teeth, I fought the urge to snap back that I didn’t need an additional mother. “We’ll get lunch after we talk to Kenny.”
“Are you—”
“I’m good. Let’s go.”
I took two more steps, and my vision darkened. My ears were stuffed with cotton. My legs . . . disappeared.
The world tilted again, and I reached for anything to break my fall. Something bit into my forearm. Then something else cracked against my kneecap.
“Andreas!”
Then nothing.
My vision cleared. I was staring up at tree branches. And the sky. From a bench. I was lying on a bench. How the fuck?
The burning in my arm made my breath catch, but it was the wetness of my sleeve that made me panic. The wetness, and the intense pressure. From Darren. Who was holding a jacket or something around my arm. To staunch the bleeding.
“Shit.” I shoved his hands away. “Get off me. Don’t fucking touch me!”
He scrambled back. To my horror, there was blood on the front of his sleeve, and even more soaking into the shirt he’d wrapped around my forearm.
I pulled it close to my stomach to keep some pressure on it. Fuck, this hurt. Oh God, I’d really fucked up my arm, hadn’t I? “What the hell happened?”
“You passed out.” He gestured behind him. “Tried to catch yourself on a sharp edge on the fence.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I realized there were other people around, gaping at us with concerned expressions.
I started to sit up, but Darren halted me with a hand on my shoulder, which he quickly withdrew.
“Don’t move.” He held out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll go get the car, and then I’m taking you to the hospital.”
I wanted to say we weren’t going to the hospital. The amount of blood on my sleeve and the intense throbbing in my arm said otherwise. Stitches, probably. Maybe even an X-ray since this felt suspiciously like the time I broke my arm as a kid.
I moistened my lips. “Keys are in my jacket. Left pocket.”
And where the hell is my jacket?
But then Darren picked it up off the ground, searched through the pockets, and spun the keys around his finger. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
With that, he was gone.
Well fuck. Because things weren’t weird enough already.
“X-rays came back clear.” The nurse closed my chart and smiled. “No fractures. Just a mild sprain. Take care of the laceration and follow up with your doctor, but you should be healed in three to four weeks.”
I nodded, glancing down at my thickly bandaged forearm. “Thanks.”
“Also, here’s your bracelet back.” The nurse handed me a plastic bag containing my medic alert bracelet. They’d had to take it off before bandaging my arm. It had been cleaned, thank God, though I’d clean it again once I was home. Just to be sure.
“Thanks.”
“How’s the dizziness?” she asked.
“It’s fine.” Probably because I was still semireclined on the gurney, but if I told her that, then she’d probably want to give me IV fluids or otherwise make me stay in this hellhole. So I was fine.
“Okay.” She smiled. “Well, I’ll get your discharge papers started, so you should be good to go soon.”
“Thanks.”
She left, and not thirty seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Record timing for discharge papers.
“Come in,” I said.
Okay, not discharge papers. Shit.
Darren shut the door behind him. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” I gestured at my bandaged arm. “Doc didn’t even stitch it. Just glued it back together.”
“And it wasn’t busted?”
I shook my head. “Bit of a sprain, I guess. Must’ve happened when I landed.”
“Good. Good.” He rocked from his heels to the balls of his feet. “So when are they letting you out?”
“They’re doing the discharge papers now. So, probably next week.”
He laughed but didn’t sound like he meant it. He sat in the chair beside the door, pressed his elbow onto the armrest, and chewed his thumbnail. He stared at the floor. I gnawed my lip. Apparently awkward silence was going to be a thing now.
Or not.
When Darren spoke, his tone was cold and flat. “For the record, when you came to earlier, I was just trying to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t exactly the time to be copping a feel, you know?”
“Copping a—” I cocked my head. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He shifted in the chair. “When you told me not to touch you? I mean, seriously, I know things almost got out of hand last night, but in the park . . . I mean . . . What the fuck did you think I was doing?”
“I . . .” I glanced down at my bloody shirt. “It wasn’t . . . Okay, you know what? Maybe we should clear the air.” I thumbed my medic alert bracelet. Really gonna go there? “In fact, I think it’s less that we need to clear the air, and more that I need to level with you.”
Darren watched me, but said nothing.
Well, here goes.
“When I told you to get off me earlier, it wasn’t because I thought you were coming on to me.” Stomach twisting, I tossed the bagged bracelet toward him. “I was afraid of getting blood on you.”
He caught the bracelet and eyed me for a moment. Then he turned it over and read it.
I held my breath, thankful I was no longer hooked to anything that could broadcast my escalating heartrate.
With a shrug, he said, “That’s it?”
“That’s—” I blinked. “What do you mean, ‘That’s it’?”
“I mean . . .” he tossed the bracelet back to me, “is this what you’ve been avoiding telling me? Even before last night?” He shook his head. “That you have HIV?”
The words were like a punch to the gut. I stared down at the bracelet so I didn’t have to look at him. “Kind of makes sense I wouldn’t want to bleed on you, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I appreciate the concern. And I saw it on the bracelet while you were passed out anyway.”
My stomach flipped over. “You did?”
“Uh, yeah. You were out cold and bleeding. Seemed like a good time to see what the deal was.” Another shrug, as if he’d just seen some unsightly scar or an ill-advised tattoo and thought nothing of it. “But, I mean, why didn’t you tell me from the start? Is this . . . Wait, is that why you get dizzy and why you passed out? Like the meds or something?”
I nodded. “They’re doing their job—my viral load’s been undetectable for a while now—but the side effects suck. Still trying to get the dosage and everything right, but it is what it is.” I swallowed. “And I’d, uh, just as soon no one on the force knew. About any of this.”
“Secret’s safe with me.” He rose, and so did my blood pressure as he came closer. “This is why you put a stop to things last night, isn’t it?”
I made myself look him in the eye. “Yeah.”
“Not because we were drinking. Not because we’re coworkers.” He tapped the bagged bracelet. “Because of that.”
I nodded.
“For what it’s worth, if I’d known, that wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“What?” I laughed bitterly. “Are you insane?”
Darren rolled his eyes. “I’m from a different generation, Andreas. It’s not a death sentence anymore, you know?”
“Your generation is a bunch of idiots, then.”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
I scowled.
“Let me ask you this.” He rested a hand on the bedrail beside me. “If this hadn’t been a factor, would you have walked away last night?”
Not a chance. And neither of us would be walking at all today.
“No.”
“Well, then . . .” A weird smile played at his lips, and when he leaned over me, he murmured, “You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me.”
And then he kissed me.
I put a hand on his chest, fully intending to shove him away, but . . . my God. He knew. Hell, he’d barely blinked. And after I’d spent four damned years steadfastly refusing to get physical with someone, Darren was getting physical with me, and it . . . it felt . . . so fucking good.
So I curled my fingers around his tie and pulled him closer.
Jesus Christ, I had never kissed someone like this before. I’d gone in trying for reassuring, but by the time Andreas was tugging me into his space, we’d rocketed right past hot and into this hospital bed ain’t gonna survive what we’re about to do to it.
It was like our kiss lit a fuse inside Andreas, and I didn’t know whether it was attached to a firecracker or a fucking nuclear weapon. Either way, the rising heat of his body and the guttural sound he made against my lips when I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck were more than enough to get me right up there with him. I fumbled for the bedrail, intent on taking it down and making some room for myself.
“Ahem.”
Goddamn it, where was the fucking latch―
“Ahem.”
Andreas registered it before I did. He jerked back like he was on fire, but he didn’t quite let go of my tie. We both turned to the nurse standing in front of the door, which she’d been nice enough to close behind her, at least.
“Hi,” I said after a moment.
“Hi there.” She looked more amused than annoyed. “I’ve got that discharge paperwork ready, Detective Ruffner. I brought you some water as well.” She glanced down at the cup, then back at me. “I should have brought two, it seems. You both look like you could use some cooling off.”
You fucked with nurses at your peril. I’d learned that the hard way. “I’m good, thanks,” I said, letting go of Andreas and straightening up. Moving away from him was harder than I’d anticipated. Shit. I had it bad already, and all we’d done was kiss.
You could be completely screwing yourself with this, my shoulder angel reminded me. It sounded a lot like Asher during his DA days. Fucking around with a guy who’s got kids that aren’t much younger than you? Are you crazy?
My shoulder devil obligingly kicked my shoulder angel in the nuts. I was committed now, at least enough to stick around and see what happened next. Andreas was my partner, and he’d just told me what was, to him, probably the worst thing imaginable. It made me a little limp with relief. His HIV status was a hurdle, but it was far from a deal breaker.
Andreas started signing the clipboard full of papers, and the nurse turned to me. “Will you be taking him home?”
Andreas snorted. I interpreted that as “no way in hell,” but smiled anyway. “I’ll be with him for the rest of the day.”
“He needs fluids,” she said. “Lots of fluids, preferably with some electrolytes. Steer clear of alcohol or caffeine. Some food would probably go a long way as well.”
“You got it.” I was more than a little hungry myself. I’d barely been able to force down a piece of dry toast this morning after drowning my stupid sorrows in whiskey last night. Alone. On my couch. Because I was such a role model.
“We have a pretty good cafeteria,” she hinted, then took the finished paperwork back from Andreas and lowered the bedrail.
“I’m not about to keel over,” Andreas said, but he was careful getting to his feet.
“It’s on the second floor, just take a right off the elevator.”
She left, and we looked at each other. My stomach growled. Andreas rolled his eyes. “You’re like a puppy.”
“A starving puppy,” I agreed. “It’s not like we’ve got anywhere else to be at the moment, right?”
“Not anymore we don’t.” He sounded angry, but I figured it was mostly with himself.
I stepped into his space, fit my hand around the sharp angle of his jaw, and kissed him again. It wasn’t as effortlessly hungry as our first kiss, but the fire was still there, just banked behind a layer of interaction with another person.
“You can’t use kissing me as a way to shut me up.” He only sounded a little breathless, but that was enough for me.
“Oh yes, I can. Just not at work. And this wasn’t to shut you up―it was because I wanted to. So there.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes.
“So mature,” he drawled, but I noticed he was holding pretty firmly onto my hip.
“Maturity is overrated. Let’s go get some food.”
“Hospital food.” We headed toward the elevator, and I was relieved to see that he was walking perfectly fine. “First disgusting fish sandwiches, and now this. You’re some sort of culinary masochist, aren’t you?”
I pressed the button for the second floor. “Maybe I’m a culinary sadist instead. After all, you do have to eat with me.”
“Order another one of those sandwiches and that’ll change real fast.”
“Threat duly noted.”
The cafeteria was serviceable, a little better than the cellophane-wrapped microwaveable shit you could get at the corner store closest to the station. It was hot, at least, and the place was busy enough that no one looked twice at us.
“So,” I said once we were sitting again. Andreas eyed me warily. God only knew what he was thinking I’d ask him—probably more details about his status, if the way he was gripping his fork like he wanted to stab me with it was any indication. Like I’d be that crass. Yet. “What were you hoping to get out of Kenny?”
Right call. Andreas’s shoulders relaxed, and he stabbed his meatloaf instead of me. “Anything. Kenny Walker is one of Blake’s bigger fish, but like Jake, he’s hard to pin down. We could have arrested him for reckless endangerment after leaving
his gun in those bushes, but he’d have been out of custody in under a day. Nothing sticks to him. Get him privately, though?” Andreas’s lips curled in a slightly disturbing smile. “He’s been known to slip up. Kenny talks a big game, but he really doesn’t care for one-on-one time.”
“He had two guys with him.”
“They weren’t going to pull their guns on me.”
“Really?” I lowered my voice. “Because if you’re right, then these are the people putting out hits on judges and getting away with it. It sounds to me like they could have made shooting us look like an accident without much trouble.”
“You scared, Darren?”
“I’m cautious. I’d like to know what I’m walking into before I step up, when possible.”
After a moment, Andreas nodded. “I’ll tell you. When possible.”
“Good. So how did you know Kenny would be there?”
“I got a message this morning before I came in. Which I would have told you,” he said before I could ask. “Except this morning things were fucked up between us.”
“They’re still pretty fucked up.”
“You’re telling me,” he muttered.
“But at least this time we can clear the air with sex.” I got maybe a bit too much enjoyment out of the way Andreas almost choked on his food. “Too soon? What about making out, then? Heavy petting?”
“This isn’t a joke.” His voice was hard. “There’s a lot at stake here. Not just our jobs, but your health, you idiot. Do you understand that?”
“I do. There are plenty of precautions we can take to be safe, though. Sex isn’t off the table, right?”
“Are you always this single-minded?”
“Only when I see something I want.” And when I haven’t gotten off with another person in almost six months. That had been Phil, my last real date. It hadn’t been much of a date, actually: we’d gone out for drinks, he’d blown me in the bathroom, I’d returned the favor in his car, and then he’d dropped me off at my apartment. After that I’d been too busy busting my ass to make detective to take a night off for a friendly fuck.
Andreas stared at me, and I looked right back. I could see the interest in his expression, the assessing gleam in his eyes, but before he could speak, his phone rang. He reached for it with the injured arm, winced, then set down his fork and answered. “Ruffner.” A little furrow appeared right between his eyes. “No, Captain.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Why?” After a few more words, I could hear the dial tone start up. Well. Captain Hamilton seemed to be feeling a little brusque today.
