"Peter, you get broken there. I need to be there to protect you."
It made me smile to hear him say that. "I'm not sure how."
"Me neither, but I want to try. It can't be you taking care of me all the time."
He was so sweet. "Get over here." I lunged for him, and he laughed and half-jerked away. I caught him in my arms and wrestled him closer, roughing his hair the wrong way and kissing him fiercely on the neck.
He giggled and enjoyed it. For such a slim, nervous, short fellow who'd been teased too much when he was younger, he really enjoyed it when I got a little physical with him, playing and roughhousing with him.
Maybe because I always knew when to stop.
#
The captain arrived next. It had started to rain, and he was dripping; even his moustache looking soggy. He seemed as annoyed as a half-drowned cat.
If he wasn't literally holding his hat in his hands, he definitely gave the impression of a man willing to. "Durphy," he began, and then saw the man with me, my boyfriend.
I'd gotten changed after our shower, had put on my high-powered suit. It had begun to feel like armor to me, something to make me more impressive when I was facing intimidating people. It also made me feel professional, now that I'd been working with Kev for so long. When we strode down a hallway together, trying to make our strides match, it felt amazing — two mentally tough, strong, and clever guys ready to take on the world. In amazing suits.
So I was definitely decent, and really, Ellery wasn't indecent. He was delightfully damp, his hair starting to frizz as it dried. He was wrapped in a plush bathrobe which was a bit bigger on him than it would be on me. It covered up his thighs and even most of his calves. His delightful bare feet still showed, of course, and a bit of his chest in the V where the top folded closed. Even modestly belted shut, the fuzzy garment couldn't hide all of my boyfriend's gorgeousness.
He gave the captain a nod that was almost regal, not looking the least bit self-conscious. "Um," began the captain, thrown off by this development.
"Captain, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Ellery Smess." I drew Ell forward, one arm lightly displaying him, around his shoulder, and he gave the captain a slight nod, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He liked being introduced as the boyfriend. He liked it a lot.
I gave Ell a decorous kiss on the temple, and he smiled. "How do you do, Captain. I've heard a lot about you."
"Have you?"
"Ellery is my long-term boyfriend," I heard myself informing the captain. It sounded equal parts defiant and braggy. A man truly confident in himself and his relationship wouldn't need to sound like that.
"Hm," said the captain. He didn't seem to particularly care. "I didn't know you'd brought anyone with you."
"I flew down," said Ell simply. "And I'd like to come in with him today, if that's all right. I don't want Pete to get so stressed again."
He was calling me Pete because the captain was here, and I appreciated it. He often called me Peter, but that felt more intimate to me. I didn't like people thinking of me as Peter all the time. Especially folks who might be tempted to add "rabbit" onto that description, because I was small.
The captain's eyes widened slightly. "You mean he's — you're — coming in?" He turned the question to me. "I thought after yesterday—" He cleared his throat. He hated groveling, but felt like he had to, and was psyching himself up for it.
Once again, Ellery intervened. "Sir, Pete doesn't mind helping — for one more day — if it really will help, but you have to give him more breaks. It's difficult for my boyfriend to sit still in a hostile environment for long periods. I need you to respect that, please. I want to come along to see that things don't get out of hand today."
At least he didn't say "to keep Pete in line." I stared at him, not sure where this self-confidence in dealing with strangers had come from. He was normally very shy around people he didn't know well — sometimes even when he did.
But here he was, standing up straight and tall, not the least bit self-conscious about his lack of size, facing the gigantic captain down steadily, and making his demands in such a reasonable tone that no one could've told him no without feeling like a fool.
His steady blue gaze held the captain's as he waited calmly.
"Yes, that's fine. Thank you," said the captain, adding that last bit on awkwardly. He shuffled his feet a bit, not sure what to say, hating how he felt like a small kid under Ellery's calm stare.
"I'll get ready," said Ell. "Do you want to wait for me, and drive us down, or shall I take a cab?"
"We'll wait," I said before the captain could think about separating us. If I was going to let Ell fight my battles for me, and be my knight in shining armor, well, then I didn't want to be away from him for even a little bit. I needed him between me and trouble, if he was strong enough to be my knight. I'd flown off the handle so hard yesterday, it had scared me.
I still cringed inwardly at the thought of going in and facing all those people I'd yelled at yesterday — not to mention sitting through another interrogation.
I pressed my hand to my forehead and sighed. Ellery had already turned away, but now he turned back quickly, touching my side with light, gentle fingers. "It'll be okay, I promise." I nodded tightly. Then he hurried off to change.
I led the captain into the tiny kitchenette area. "Coffee?" I said, to give Ell some privacy. We had some coffee left over in the pot, and there were extra mugs on the tray.
"Um, sure," said the captain, eyeing the meal we'd already finished otherwise. "Looks good."
"It was." I had no idea how I was going to handle this small talk. Or worse, if he apologized. Then I'd have to, as well, and I'd rather tear a fingernail off right now. Even though I was sorry, really. What was the point of apologizing if you were still angry, and knew you'd probably do it again the same way all over again if the same situation arose, and you really did think they'd been in the wrong — but you had, too?
I'd learned at an early age that, no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to be wrong. I was going to struggle with school subjects the other kids found easy, and sitting still most of all. I was going to be too short, too loud, too irritating. I was going to drive people crazy.
And if I apologized for it, they'd expect me to change in the future. But I couldn't. I couldn't change one thing about myself, and never had been able to. It made it hard for me to apologize. Not because I wasn't sorry, but because it felt fake, like I was promising to be able to do better, when I knew very well that I probably never would.
Fortunately, Ellery was ready in record time (and looking very trim and hot in his own slightly more casual suit). He smiled at me in a very genuine way, and I felt a strong emotion of reassurance pulsing from him, aimed towards me. He felt confident and happy — and he wanted me to feel safe.
You're so strong, and I never knew.
I grinned back at him and took his arm and we headed out to the captain's car. It would be rude to say I'd thought he was always weak! Although I kind of had. He was such a sensitive guy, I hadn't thought about relying on his strength, using it up. But he seemed to have more, when it came to helping me, and that was kind of flattering — and yes, it was reassuring.
On the way, I asked for and received permission to tell Ellery about the case. The captain's initial hesitation — it wasn't really procedure — evaporated as soon as he realized Ellery was also a graduate of the ESRB. Then he wanted to tell him everything in the faint chance he might be able to help in some way.
The captain put a lot of faith in the ESRB. That was kind of sad to me, knowing he might never get another ESRB graduate at his precinct again. I'd have to be honest if they asked me if I could recommend the place. But probably they wouldn't ask; probably it just wouldn't happen. I wasn't going to lie for him, even if I did like the captain, despite all our quarrels.
Ellery listened to everything with a single-minded, quiet intensity. He sat very near me in the cab, even though he didn't
have to squeeze quite that close. His slim, muscular thigh pressed against mine felt fine. By the time we arrived at the station, he was up to speed on the confusing and legitimately awful case.
What was Damon hiding? What could be so important that it would let a murderer get away and might send him to jail?
The captain was desperate to find out. He managed another awkward apology on the way, and I was just as awkward in return, mumbling something quietly and wishing I could disappear.
The precinct was cleared out quite a bit, with not nearly as many rubberneckers as I'd expected crowding around, waiting to gawk at me and judge me. I realized he might've sent them away. Wow. The captain was making a big effort.
We headed almost right away into the interrogation room, with me and Ellery behind the glass, watching and listening, and another officer there to record and take down my comments. The officer was very tense indeed; he knew a great deal of things depended on getting this right. He felt helpless and out of his depth.
The captain didn't think to reassure him, and I didn't know how. It was just one more addition to the background noise of unhappy emotions that was already starting to make me feel trapped. The captain was none too happy himself, and Damon, already in the interrogation room and waiting with a fair idea of what was to come, felt distinctly low in spirits.
Why couldn't Damon just tell the truth and let this all go away? Then I could go back home with Ellery. Well, I was heading home tomorrow either way — for sure.
Ellery took one look at my face and put his hand in mine and squeezed.
He didn't have to be able to read me with an empath's talent to know how I was feeling. At the moment, that felt pretty amazing. So did his hand in mine.
#
Throughout the whole interview process, Ellery was my anchor. He kept me comfortable with his steady nearness. When I began to pace, or otherwise seem distressed, he would immediately let the officer know I needed a break. Then we'd have a quick coffee together, or go for a power walk around the block or something. Always, he stayed near me without judgment or disdain.
He could see I was struggling in the confines of the precinct. He seemed to read me as well as I read him, and without any special ESRB-ranked talent for it at all. That was pretty inspiring. It made me want to do better, and to be a better boyfriend to him.
"You okay now?" he'd ask when I was doing better, and I'd nod, and we'd head in for a few more minutes of the grueling interrogation.
At first, the captain's emotions read disbelief and disdain . . . but that changed to a kind of shocked surprise as he began to understand. The fact that I needed so many breaks and he'd never known began to show him how ill-suited I'd been to the job, and how difficult I'd found it working at the precinct.
After a bit, though, I noticed Ellery was starting to get pissed off. His restless irritation surpassed my own. I stared at him, but I didn't know what to say or do to make it better. Ell never got annoyed at me — not like that! As it was, his impatience practically bounced off the confining walls. If he had to be mad at me on top of everything else, I was probably going to start hyperventilating.
He gave me a quick, tight smile, and looked around, restless. Then he motioned for the officer and said something to him in a low voice. The man looked at me, then Ell, then nodded quickly and hurried from the room. Ellery stomped over to the table, scowling. He got a slip of paper, wrote something on it and folded it in half.
"Ell?" I managed. I was damn near crying, and I just don't do that. "Everything okay, buddy?"
"Hm?" He looked at me quickly, and then his eyes opened wider. "Yes," he said very carefully and slowly. "Is everything okay for you? Do you need to get out of here?"
I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself tightly, trying not to feel so emotional. He clearly wasn't annoyed at me — at least not mostly. That was pretty clear. But he was still annoyed — angry, even. It was something of a new experience, seeing him like this, feeling his anger. I wasn't a fan.
The captain came into the room, looking pissed off, distracted, and harried. "Yes? What is it now?" He was barely restraining himself from hissing the words at me.
"If you please," said Ellery crisply, standing at his full height and handing over the folded slip of paper, "ask him that. And then maybe we can go?"
He folded his arms over his chest and glared at the captain.
The captain glanced at the paper. His brows rose. Then he left the room, thoughtful.
I stared at Ellery. He moved up beside me and took my hand, and I felt a little better. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning closer to me so we couldn't be overheard. "You don't like it when people get upset, huh?"
I shook my head, gulping. I felt very fragile at the moment, and rather stupid. I was supposed to be the strong one — wasn't I?
Inside the interrogation room, the captain's chair scraped back and he sat down. "Do you think you know someone who was involved in the murder, or knows more about the murder?"
"No," said Damon, looking stony-faced. "I've told you all I—"
"Lie," I told the officer. He made a note of it, nodding quickly. This wasn't really new ground.
The captain was continuing with his line of questioning. I glanced at Ellery for a clue, but he was looking at the two of them intensely. It reminded me of the way a cat watches a bird, wanting to attack but knowing it can't get through the glass. The thought made me smile for an instant.
"Let's say you know someone is involved, and you're protecting them, keeping their name out of it. Why?"
"I told you, I'm not—"
"Lie," I said.
The officer noted it down.
"Why would that be?" The captain and Damon stared at each other. Damon was visibly sweating. "Was it because you were sleeping with him?" the captain asked almost gently.
"No," said Damon.
"Lie," I supplied. "He's got it." All three of us leaned closer.
Damon wiped his sweaty brow. The captain glanced at the glass. "Damn it," whispered Damon. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "He's . . ." He shook his head, almost panting for a moment.
"It wasn't like that," he protested. By now, he knew I was here; he was putting the facts together and getting a pretty good clue about what was going on, if he hadn't already known. His emotions were spiraling ever further downwards. "It wasn't like that. Josh didn't — he didn't have anything—" His voice cracked, and he buried his head in his hands.
"Just tell me the truth, son, and I can help you," said the captain quietly, almost gently. "There's no reason to go to jail for murder when you didn't do it."
Damon shook his head against his hands, trying not to cry. "I — I didn't. But he didn't — I'm sure he didn't. I'll — I'll tell you everything I know."
#
Ellery could barely hold back his triumph. He was still fiercely angry with Damon, but he kept it in check. We sat through another half hour of questioning before we were released.
The whole sordid story came out. No wonder Damon had hidden it; it went along with his whole "I'm not really gay" thing. He hated that part of himself, so of course he didn't want to talk about it to the captain, and on the record. These records would probably be part of a court proceeding. He'd already lost his witness, his credibility, and probably his job. He couldn't stand to lose that last little bit, his privacy. It had been stripped from him now, so he had nothing to do but let the whole story burst forth.
He'd gotten involved with a man — a hookup who became a sex buddy — while he was undercover. It had been the nearly anonymous sex he apparently preferred, and they'd both been startled when they discovered they were working on opposite sides of things.
Josh Kinsey hadn't turned him in to his boss for being a cop, which kept Damon from losing his life or his spot undercover. While he technically should've reported that he'd been compromised, he felt that Josh would keep his secret for at least a while longer — especially since they were still fucking and Josh was gettin
g pretty hot and heavy about it. (He made no mention of his own intense feelings, the coward.)
He'd made the decision to stay undercover and keep working on the witness, and had felt he was nearing a breakthrough. Yolanda, unfortunately, caught wind of his affair with Josh, although he wasn't sure how. Intuition, rumor, or some missed piece of evidence. Whatever the case, it had played merry hell with his work of getting her to trust him and testify. Especially because she'd like-liked him.
They had fought, and he'd left to cool off, and in the heat of anger, she'd called after him that he was "a gay slur," according to him. He'd left in a hurry, very angry.
The next time he saw her, she was dead — and he was a prime suspect.
I could see how it looked bad. Had Josh been involved? Had someone else figured it out and decided to scuttle the investigation in the best (and most evil) way possible? It wasn't really my affair anymore.
The captain told me wearily that I could go. "And thank you for your help."
I had the feeling he'd been about to say something else before he saw Ellery's fierce expression, though. Ell was keeping hold of my arm, as if he was afraid I'd drop without his support. I might have, as tired as I felt.
"That's all now," said Ellery firmly. "You can contact someone else from the ESRB for further help. Or get a lie detector. Or actually do some legwork to prove your theories from now on." He glared at the captain, looking little but fierce. "It you call him back in, I will report you.
"And you know what? Even though your man wasn't legally responsible for Yolanda's death, he morally was. Because you guys . . ." Here he poked the captain in the chest with a finger, glaring. "Because you guys put her in danger just by trying to use her as a witness against dangerous people." He scowled fiercely. "And if you hadn't, she'd still be alive. Her son is an orphan now, forever, and he might have trouble all his life because of it. You'd better start a fund to take care of him, and you'd better see that he gets whatever help and care he needs. You don't dump people. You don't treat people like disposable trash because oh, well, it's legal, because fuck that. You're not the good guys if you do that."
SURE (Men of the ESRB Book 3) Page 6
