Dangerous

by RGAlexander

  Brady walked over to his brother and handed him a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks,” he said absently, looking around the room. “Where are the walls?”

  Brady quirked his lips. “He doesn’t own any.”

  His brother rolled his dark blue eyes and took a sip of the steaming brew. “How are they this morning?”

  He was referring to Terry and his mother Patricia, Brady knew. Ken was with them right now. They were downstairs, having one last conversation before Trick took them away.

  “As well as you might imagine.”

  There’d been no sleep last night after Terry had given his statement and Ken had insisted they all come back to the warehouse. Patricia couldn’t let go of her son and Terry was practically catatonic.

  It was heartbreaking. Ken’s foster brother had fresh scars everywhere Brady could see skin, and his face was gaunt and haunted. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone—coming back from the horrors of war only to fall into a personal nightmare. It was a miracle he’d survived both, though Brady suspected he wasn’t feeling that lucky at the moment.

  Ken had been a rock. He’d sat beside them and talked in a soft comforting voice as he told them about his plans to keep them safe. Brady had tried to stay out of the way, but Patricia had joined him in the kitchen to thank him for his help in the rescue.

  “Kenneth told me you were in Afghanistan,” she’d said. “That you had nightmares.”

  “Have,” Brady corrected gently. “But he’s making sure your son has the best care money can buy when you get where you’re going. You heard him. And Ken’s told me how strong you are. With you on Terry’s side, and some time, he’ll get better.”

  Patricia’s smile was weary but genuine. “He’s alive and with me. We’ll make that enough for now.” She paused. “Kenneth talked about me? Then you and he—you two must be very close.”

  Brady hoped so. “He cares about you, I know that. He didn’t want to let you down.”

  They’d both turned at the sound of Terry’s sob and watched as he wrapped his arms around Ken and wept into his neck. Swaying slightly, Patricia had reached out to take Brady’s hand. “He didn’t. Remind him of this moment if he ever forgets. He gave me back my son.”

  Brady looked up, shaking off the memory as Ken came in the front door and walked slowly toward them. The cross around his neck was gone. “They’re on the road. Thank you, Chief, for the escort.”

  Solomon set down his coffee and shook his head. “I didn’t authorize an escort for people carrying forged documents and fake IDs. My men just happen to be going in the same direction.”

  Ken sent him a grateful smile. “Lucky for us.”

  Brady walked over and took Ken’s hand. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He slipped his hand out of Brady’s and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry Terry wasn’t able to give a detailed statement.”

  Solomon rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “I am too. From what little you two have told me, I would love to get my hands on those sons of a bitches. But I’m afraid something happened this morning that—”

  The phone on his belt rang and Solomon answered it immediately. “Finn.”

  As he listened to whoever was on the other end, his frown deepened. “They couldn’t have waited?” He turned around and reached for the remote, his eyes on the television. “Thanks for the heads-up, Stephen. I’ll call you back.”

  “What is it?” And why did Brady have the sinking feeling that he didn’t want to know?

  Solomon just gave him a grim look. “How the hell do you turn up the volume with this thing?” he demanded, holding up the remote.

  Ken took it from him and pushed a button so they could hear the voiceover accompanying footage of a hotel entrance roped off with yellow crime scene tape.

  “Three men were found dead this morning in a downtown hotel room in an alleged double murder-suicide,” the woman reported. “One of victims has been identified as thirty-year-old Calvin Grimes, a political consultant who worked most recently for local Senator Stephen Finn. The names of the other two victims, both males, have been withheld pending notification of next of kin. Police aren’t releasing any details about the crime scene, but sources close to the investigation tell us Grimes appears to have shot the other two victims before turning the gun on himself. Senator Finn’s office has released a formal statement from both the senator and his wife, expressing shock and offering condolences and prayers to the families of all the victims.”

  “Jesus.” Brady’s legs gave out beneath him and he sank into the couch. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Oh, it’s happening,” Solomon said grimly. “I was waiting until you’d gotten the Wahls safely on their way to tell you. No need to add to their anxiety.”

  Brady looked over at Ken, thinking he looked like a statue. Like he wasn’t even breathing until he said, “When? And who are the other two?”

  “The call came in before dawn,” Solomon told him. “They’ve been identified as Anthony James and Edward Vargas.”

  “Holy shit, Vargas?” Brady ask, his voice rising in disbelief. “Heavyset guy with a beard?”

  Solomon nodded. “And their names are basically the only personal information we have on them. Someone’s done a very thorough job of whitewashing their histories. Deleting, actually. After the things Stephen said at dinner the other night, I was expecting Brady’s name to come up when we started digging into Grimes, but there was nothing—no texts, no emails, no phone calls. Hell, Stephen told me the picture of Brady on Grimes’ desk has been replaced with that James boy’s.”

  Brady was in shock. The Slaver’s Club had gotten rid of that much information in one night? He didn’t know anyone other than Ken that could do that. That was a lot of damn trouble to go through to create their narrative. To make Calvin Grimes look like a murderer.

  Obviously he’d been right about Cal being a fall guy, but he hadn’t realized how far they were willing to go. Vargas and Grimes were dead. He’d bet the third guy was that poor soul Vargas and Cal had in the back room. Who was going to send sympathy to Anthony James’ parents?

  “They’re cleaning themselves out of the room,” Ken said in a quiet, emotionless monotone. “Sweeping their way out the door so no one knows they were here.”

  He sounded so tired that Brady wanted to carry him back to bed until this news blew over.

  Solomon agreed. “The place where we found Wahl was owned by Vargas and there’s nothing in there that ties it to anyone or anything else. With Grimes and Vargas dead, we’ve got nothing.”

  Ken rubbed his temples. “Brady was right. They gave me Terry so I’d back off. They gave Brady a pass so I’d know what they are capable of. What Cal texted and the pictures and videos he sent to Brady in the last few weeks was salacious enough to fill the newspapers for months. Brady would have been dragged into this story and hounded by reporters. They decided to give him a pass. And they wanted me to know how easy that was for them.”

  “That was my thought.” Solomon nodded.

  Ken’s laugh was bitter. “They got rid of the two men I used to find Terry. To find them. I’d be willing to bet the club is shut down by now too. They are a well-oiled machine, aren’t they?”

  “They could have killed you,” Solomon offered grimly. “You, Terry and my brother.”

  “They won’t touch me,” Ken shook his head absently. “Those connections I have? They wouldn’t risk it.”

  “We’ll find them,” Brady promised, fueled by rage at this new injustice. “We know a few of their names, and I’ll never forget their faces. Men that wealthy? With facial recognition we could track their every move. Plus, we know there are other clubs and—”

  Solomon grabbed Brady’s arm and shook it. “You move on them again over my dead body. Do you hear me? You are out of this as of now, Brady. Do you understand what’s happened? Is it even registering in your brain? They killed three men without hesitation just to prove they could. From what you tol
d me, they kidnap people and assault them, just because they can. They let you go. They took you out of the equation for whatever reason and that is where you’re going to stay. Out.”

  Brady glared down at his older brother. “Is that an order, Chief? Isn’t this what Sol trained us to do? Be good cops? Good soldiers? Help people? You didn’t see the things I did. How they treated those men—”

  Solomon swore, tightening his calloused fingers on Brady’s arm. “I didn’t hold my breath and say a prayer every time you took another tour in Afghanistan just so I could watch you die as soon as you got back. You don’t want to be a cop anymore? Fine. And you did your time as a Marine. But this? This spy game you’re playing with Tanaka? It’s too fucking dangerous.”

  “I agree.”

  At Ken’s quiet words, Brady, who taken a breath to continue fighting his brother, let it out in a rush. “What?”

  “This is over now.” Ken stared at Solomon until he looked away and let Brady go. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, Chief. If you wouldn’t mind, Brady and I need to talk about this alone.”

  Solomon sent Brady an enigmatic glance then nodded, his long strides taking him to the front door of the loft, where he paused. “I’m sorry about this, Tanaka. But what you did for them? Your foster family? That was… You did good.”

  Ken lowered his chin in a sharp nod. “I appreciate it. I know how important family is to the Finns.”

  “There’ll be a car here for a few days. If you need anything else...” Solomon hesitated, looking uncomfortable for a moment before he turned and headed for the stairs, leaving the door open.

  Brady had a knot in his stomach. “What just happened, Ken? I get Solomon being cautious, but we aren’t really letting this go, are we? I mean, sure, take a beat and make a new plan, but we can’t let them get away with what they’ve done.”

  No one had the right to choose who lived and died. To play God. The never-ending war had taught him that. All those lives, all those families destroyed—for what? So these men could have the freedom to sit in their towers and get rid of anyone that wasn’t convenient? “We can’t let them win.”

  “I won’t.” Ken wouldn’t look at him. His fingers were curled into fists. “But there are a few things I need to take care of first.”

  He walked out the door Solomon had just disappeared through, heading, Brady knew instinctively, to the place that used to be his one true sanctuary.

  Brady followed, but before he even made it to the hall, he heard the sound of shattering glass and metal. He paused in the office doorway, watching silently as Ken took what looked like a metal pipe to all his monitors. He kicked over his towers beat them with a force and ferocity that was disturbing, and smashed everything to pieces.

  Finally, he couldn’t watch anymore. “Ken, stop. Talk to me.”

  “I’m fine,” Ken muttered through gritted teeth, kicking the wreckage on the floor around and picking up all his broken hard drives. “I didn’t find anything. There was no way they could have bypassed my security.”

  “So it’s one of your contacts? Then why are you doing this?”

  “I’m just being thorough.”

  He went over to the small kitchenette and opened his microwave, trying to fit them all inside.

  Brady came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Ken’s biceps, tightening when he started to struggle. “Stop. Please, babe. Look at me. Talk to me.”

  “You don’t have to stick around for the cleanup if it upsets you. The job is over. In fact, if it’s okay with you I’d rather be alone.” His voice was so cold. So unaffected, despite his recent bout of destruction.

  “You want me to go back to the loft? I can help with—”

  “I want you to go.”

  Stunned, Brady loosened his arms enough to whirl Ken around so he could look in his eyes. He looked like he meant it. How was he doing that? “You’re kicking me out?”

  Ken’s smile was a brittle version of the one Brady loved. “Don’t look at it that way, Finn. We did the job. We reunited a mother and son. We kicked some ass and had some fantastic sex. That’s time well spent, in my book.”

  “Fuck you, that was more than sex,” Brady said, anger and doubt deepening his voice. “You know it was.”

  Ken sighed, pain racing across his expression before it hardened again. “What I know is that you and I never made any sense. You love your big, crazy family and I love my independence and kink—which you aren’t really into. For the most part I’d rather be by myself with my thoughts or on my computer. You’d rather run errands and fix a roof for your cousin’s boyfriend so you don’t have to live alone.”

  Brady flinched and Ken shook his head. “I’m sorry, Brady. I don’t mean it like that, but if you’re honest, you’ve thought the same things. That’s why you kept turning me down in the first place. If we hadn’t been living together and working on such an intensely personal case, nothing would have changed.”

  “No.” He didn’t feel this way due to proximity or adrenaline, no matter what Ken said. “I’m not going anywhere. Not when you’re like this. You’re not—”

  “I’m fine,” he stressed. “But I admit this job took its toll. I need time to sort it out. To think about everything that’s happened. I know you understand.”

  We’re not the best fit.

  I want you to go.

  I’d rather be alone.

  Brady didn’t think there was another way Ken could say it without holding a large, neon sign. Yesterday he’d thought… But this morning Terry was safe, Grimes was dead and Tanaka wanted him to go.

  “I don’t believe—I mean I can’t understand why you…” He took a deep breath, releasing Ken and stepping back. “But it’s your place. Your call. If this is what you really want, Tanaka, then I guess there’s nothing left to say.”

  “This is what I think I need.” Ken turned to face the microwave again. “What we both need.”

  Brady stared at his lover’s stiff back for what seemed like hours. He wanted to fight. He wanted to take Ken in his arms and remind him how good they were together. But in the end he just left the office and went to collect his duffel bag. The only thing that belonged to him. The only proof that he was ever here.

  It was over. When the shock wore off he needed to be as far from here as possible. He didn’t want Tanaka to see him shatter.

  Chapter Ten

  “Here’s another root beer, Brady.” Seamus set the bottle on the bar in front of him. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?”

  Brady shook his head. He needed to stay in control. Now more than ever. “This sugar high is better than a rum blackout. I am hearing a strange pounding in my ears though.”

  “Construction.” Seamus sighed. “I can’t wait to open up again. Owen’s crew has done great work and it’s only two days, but I’m ready for the dust to settle so I can reopen. I miss adult problems and drunks and appetizers that aren’t shaped like stars and dinosaurs.”

  Brady couldn’t help but chuckle. Super Dad needed a vacation. He glanced over at the new stage that had sprung up by the dartboards. “A place for a band, bigger bathrooms, a fixed roof… That’s a lot for two days.”

  “They get paid well, and they each get one free drink a night for life. Apparently that was the right incentive.”

  Brady imagined it would be. “How’s your dad doing with all this change?”

  “Dad is proud, and before you ask everyone else is fine.” His cousin leaned his elbows on the bar and frowned. “You, however, look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Brady muttered. “At least I don’t have little mustard fingerprints on the back of my shirt.”

  Seamus looked over his shoulder and swore. “How the hell did that happen? I put Penny and Wes in the shower and changed my shirt before I came here.”

  Solomon appeared beside Brady, tossing a set of keys on the bar and taking off his sunglasses before he sat down. “Sol says he didn’t own a clean shirt out
side of his uniform until Rory left home. Hey brother, what’s new?”

  Brady ground his teeth together. Solomon was the last person he wanted to see. “Other than me being wrong about the pub being closed for construction? I don’t know, Chief. You tell me.”

  “I can’t close to family.” Seamus shrugged, setting an iced tea down in front of Solomon, who nodded his thanks.

  “Okay, let’s think about what’s happened since the last time you answered your phone. Uncle Shawn’s a little down in the dumps. Owen and Jeremy are coming back the day after tomorrow, and Badass has been staying with him for the duration. You know how much he loves that dog.”

  Owen’s dog was going to come back spoiled rotten with no Brady-the-babysitter to look after him when Owen wanted a nap. Shame. “I’ll send a card.”

  “I also heard from Rory that you went to the VA to talk to someone about your sleeping problems.”

  Brady didn’t respond, reminding himself to sock Rory in the jaw for gossiping. As for the doctor, he’d had to do something. Waking up from memories of car bombs and innocent casualties had never been easy, but they’d never been this hard. Now, every time he realized he was awake, he remembered that there wasn’t a good reason to be. Ken wasn’t beside him.

  Talking to the doctor helped. He’d even made another appointment.

  “If it means anything, I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Brady looked over at Solomon in mock-surprise. “Should I be taping this?”

  Solomon frowned. “I’m not sorry I was worried about you. I am sorry if something I said made him… That wasn’t my intention.”

  Brady looked back down at his bottle. He shouldn’t be taking this out on his brother. Solomon isn’t the one who sent him away. All he’d done was show up exactly when he needed him to. “You were there to help and that’s what you did. I appreciate it, and I should’ve said it before now.”