by Pandora Pine
It had been a long night as it was. We’d been working on another honeypot sting, only with Ella recovering from her gunshot wound at home, I’d been working with a new officer. Jen had transferred into Vice after Ella’s injury. She was short, with long blonde hair and a figure to die for. She also looked about ten years younger than her actual age, twenty-five. Jen was physically perfect to play the role, but I’d been having a hard time with the subtle nuance needed to pull off a performance that would make the potential johns offer her money.
As a result, we’d only arrested two men, and one of them was so drunk, he would have agreed to sell a kidney, if that’s what we’d asked for.
My little detour to the fire on Hawthorne Way hadn’t done much for the team’s momentum. They’d all been ready to call it a night when I got back to the shitty motel out by the beach. All Mather and Welch wanted to talk about was the fire and Gunnar. I didn’t know how they’d found out about our relationship, but I had a feeling it had to do with Ozzy’s loose lips.
When I pulled into my driveway, I wanted a long, cold shower and to head to bed. Seeing every light in Gunnar’s house blazing, changed my mind. I had a thing or two to say to him and he was going to listen to me.
With anger roiling in my gut, I stormed up his front steps and rang the bell. What the hell had he been thinking to incite Dillon McMasters like he’d done. Christ, the man was off his rocker. He could have had a gun.
“Hey, Kennedy!” Gunnar’s usual smile was in place when he opened the door and saw it was me. What wasn’t usual were his two black eyes.
“Jesus, kid. It looks like you went a few rounds with Conor McGregor.”
“Feels like it too.” He held the door open wider. “Come in. I was going to have a beer. Want one?”
A beer was probably the worst thing I could have at the moment considering how angry I was. “No. I don’t want a beer. I want to talk to you about what happened tonight.” My tone was a bit harsher than I’d intended.
Gunnar turned around with a stunned look on his face. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” He took a seat on the couch, his hands folded neatly in his lap.
I sat across from him trying to get myself under control. “What the hell were you doing starting a fight with Dillon McMasters?”
“What?” Gunnar nearly launched himself out of his seat. “I didn’t start a fight with him. He swung at me. I ended up on the pavement, flat on my ass.”
“I saw you in his face, ready to punch him.” I wasn’t going to let Gunnar get away with playing innocent with me. Not outside the bedroom, anyway.
“That was after I’d stood up again.” Gunnar shook his head. “Ozzy asked me to look through the crowd for the arsonist. I’d been talking to the people who owned the house that was on fire, when I noticed Dillon in the crowd.”
“Why did you confront him? You could have just made note that he was at the fire scene.” I was going to have a serious chat with my brother about giving Gunnar such a dangerous job.
“I didn’t confront him. He recognized me and charged forward, yelling about how we’d killed his family but managed to save this one.” The look in Gunnar’s emerald eyes was haunted.
“Why did Ozzy give you this job in the first place? You need to tell him it’s too dangerous.” I was out of my seat and pacing around the small living room. “You need a different job and that’s all there is to it.”
“What?” Gunnar was out of his seat and charging toward me. “You were the one who got me the job at the firehouse in the first place.! How dare you come in here and tell me I have to give it up! Ozzy trusts me. He gave me this assignment because he thought I could handle it and I am.”
“On your ass? Oh, yeah, Gunnar, you’re handling it all right.” I wasn’t expecting him to come at me with fire in his eyes.
“The man lost his wife and children in a tragic arson. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Slug him before he could hit me? Jesus Christ, Kennedy, for someone who became a police officer to help people, you’re acting like you have no empathy at all.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that McMasters could be the arsonist? Why the fuck do you think he showed up at the fire last tonight? Gee, do you think maybe it had to do with the fact that he was the one who started it?”
“Yes, Detective Asshole, it did cross my mind.” Gunnar’s hands were fisted at his sides.
“You thought Dillon was the arsonist?” I wasn’t convinced.
“I thought it was possible. He could have set the mill fires as dress rehearsals and the one with the old lady to throw investigators off track. I figured it was possible for him to have set the fire in his house to kill his family, but then I remembered something.”
“What was that Sherlock Holmes?” Christ, I was acting like a complete and total dick.
Gunnar sat down hard on the edge of the sofa. His eyes had grown distant as if he were reliving the night of the fire. “The grief. That was the real deal.”
“How would you know that? You were the one who had to stop him from contaminating the bodies.”
“His wife and young daughters, Kennedy. They weren’t bodies to him. They were his family. I know criminals can be good actors when the situation calls for it, but Dillon’s grief was real that night, just like it was tonight. You would have seen it for yourself if you hadn’t been so busy yanking him away from me and handcuffing him.”
“So, I’m just supposed to let people go around beating up my man. Is that it?” I was yelling again.
“Why were you even at the fire?” Gunnar’s eyes sharpened on me like a hawk, with me playing the role of mouse. “Police hadn’t been dispatched to the scene.”
Busted. “I heard the call come over the radio.” I saw the crestfallen look on Gunnar’s face. “Damn it, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting me to be safe. I blame you for thinking that I don’t have the ability to take care of myself.”
“Oh really? This coming from the man who moved into this house with only the clothes on his back.”
“That was a low blow, Kennedy. I get that you’re angry because what you saw tonight at the fire scene scared you, but you just stepped way over the line. Get the hell out of my house. If you want your shit back, I’ll leave it in your driveway.”
“Gunnar, come on, I didn’t mean-” Yes, I was over the line, but Gunnar wasn’t listening to me.
“Out! Now!” He moved to the door holding it open.
“Fine.” I headed toward the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to calm down.”
“Don’t bother. Until you can get that condescending tone under control, I don’t want to see or speak to you.” Without another word, Gunnar slammed the door. I heard the bolt engage.
Using the rail, I walked down the stairs. As I stood in front of Gunnar’s house, I watched as one by one, the lights went out.
There had been such a change in him over the last few weeks. He’d become more confident in himself. He’d made friends, hell, he’d managed to snag me and that was saying something.
Now, here I was standing outside his house after he’d kicked me out for being King Dick. Instead of showering together before bed, I was alone. Again.
What the hell had I done?
30
Gunnar
After the fight with Kennedy, the last place I expected to find myself was in the McCoy’s kitchen eating my way through an entire Cuban Frittata. It was honestly the best thing I’d ever tasted. Topped with crispy cubed potatoes, the rest of the dish had scrambled eggs mixed with large cuts of slab bacon. I’d gone through several pieces of toast and half a bottle of orange juice. Nether Mandy nor David batted an eye over how much I ate. I supposed they wouldn’t after having raised four very large sons.
When I finally set my fork down, Mandy’s look turned serious. “We heard about what happened last night at the fire scene.”
“Who told you? Ozzy or
Kennedy?” I hated asking but knowing where the information came from would make a big difference on how much I told them.
“Actually, Dallas called first, and Ozzy called in the middle of the telling. I wanted to hear the story straight from the horse’s mouth, so I hung up on Dallas to take the other call.”
I snorted. “You hung up on one son to take a call from another?” I couldn’t imagine sweet Mandy hanging up on anyone, not even telemarketers.
“I could tell by the tone in Ozzy’s voice that there was something more going on than a simple man getting upset with you at a fire scene.”
Shit and double shit. Kennedy must have talked to Ozzy about our fight last night. I felt myself sinking lower in my seat.
“It’s okay, Gunnar. You can tell us what’s going on.” Mandy set a warm hand on my own.
If I hadn’t eaten so damn much, I would have been able to run. Now that I was in a food coma, I was trapped. I had a feeling that had been Mandy’s strategy all along. “Kennedy is a bossy son of a…” I trailed off not wanting to say the last word. “I hate to tell you both that, but he is.”
Mandy snorted behind her hand. “I knew that the second day he was with us. The boys wanted to play a board game and Kennedy insisted on being in charge of everything. I think some people are born with bossy qualities.”
David smirked at her from behind his glasses. “What has General Lynch done this time?” He snapped off a mock salute.
I felt much better knowing Kennedy’s parents understood what I was up against. “He told me the other night he wanted to see where things went between the two of us. I’d never been so happy in my life until he dropped the hammer.”
“What do you mean he dropped the hammer?” Mandy shot David a confused look.
“He was the one who told Ozzy I needed a job in the first place. Ozzy liked the work I was doing so well that he gave me a promotion. He needed someone to keep an eye out for suspicious people at potential arson scenes.”
“Oz mentioned that the other day. Kept going on about how proud he was of you and your determination to succeed.” David looked equally proud of me. A feeling I wasn’t used to. I liked it.
“That’s what he said as well. I’d asked to go on a ride along to a fire and for whatever reason Ozzy allowed it. It was that awful fire last week where a wife and two little girls died.”
“The one where Ozzy got burned. You tried to rush into the house to help him, rumor has it.”
I’d forgotten about that part of the story. “Kennedy held me back, but yeah, my first instinct had been to race into that building after him. Kennedy told me to stay put and had gone to Ozzy’s side, along with the paramedics, when he came out of the fire carrying the little girls. That scene was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed in my life.” When I thought about that night, I swear I could still smell the smoke. “The father, Dillon McMasters, tried to run to the bodies of his family when they were laid on the ground. I was the one who stopped him.”
David set a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.” He turned to his wife. “I never understood our boys wanting to be the ones racing into dangerous situations, while everyone else ran the other way.”
I was about to ask how Hennessey running a bar was running into danger, but bit my tongue. I had a feeling the answer to that question was none of my business.
“It sounds like you were born with that same instinct,” David was saying.
“I’d never thought about it that way before. Ozzy said the same thing to me later, which is why I guess he thought I would be perfect for his little assignment.”
“I’m guessing Kennedy thought otherwise?” Mandy was shaking her head in obvious annoyance.
“Not until last night. He’d been just as proud of me as everyone at the firehouse.” It stung thinking about his harsh words last night. “He was upset with me for getting into a fight with Dillon McMasters who’d shown up at the fire shouting at the family who’d survived the fire and Ozzy. It was awful. A punch was thrown, and I was the recipient.” I pointed to my two black eyes which had been covered by sunglasses when I’d arrived. David had asked me to take them off. To their credit, neither one of them asked what happened. Thinking about it now, Ozzy had probably filled them in.
“What exactly did Kennedy have to say?” David took a breath and held it. He was obviously bracing himself for the worst.
The last thing I was going to do was repeat those hurtful things word for word. It was bad enough they were still playing in my head on a loop. “He always feels the need to show up where I am to protect me like some guardian angel. Gunnar’s guardian,” I scoffed.
“That’s our Kennedy.” Mandy was nodding her head. “After what happened to his mother, he’s always held tight to the people he loves.”
“Kennedy doesn’t love me.” It just wasn’t possible. “Love isn’t telling me to quit my job. Or reminding me that I wouldn’t have a house full of furniture without him.”
“Damn,” David muttered under his breath. “That’s our Kennedy all right.”
Mandy nodded at her husband. “Without saying too much, my son thinks that if he’d been stronger or braver that he would have been able to save his mother that awful night.”
“He was ten!” I half-shouted. “I remember what I was like at ten. Skinny as a rail and so short that I could pass for a first grader. How the hell did Kennedy think he could have stopped a drunk and deranged man from stabbing his mother?”
“The same way you thought you could run into that fire and rescue Ozzy.” Mandy said quietly. “We all play the what-if game. Kennedy’s made it an art form over the years. We struggled the hardest with this issue when he was a little boy.” David reached out for her hand, Mandy took it. “He used to run scenarios with me before bed. I’d go into their rooms and tuck them in. Kennedy had a new scenario for me every night for nearly a year. Broke my heart when he’d say, ‘Mandy, what if I had…’”
I’d never heard anything like this before. I knew Kennedy thought he was responsible for his mother’s death, but I had no idea he’d tortured himself like this.
“Now you see where he’s coming from.” David’s attention turned back to me. “It’s not that he doesn’t trust you to do a good job, Gunnar, it’s that he needs to be there to catch you if you fall, so there won’t ever be any more what-ifs.”
“I appreciate you telling me about Kennedy’s past.” It was true. I wasn’t about to get this level of authenticity from the stubborn ass himself. “I guess my question now is how to get him to dial it back?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Mandy reached for her coffee, taking a slow sip. “I think the only person who can answer it for you is Kennedy.”
I knew Mandy was right, but still, I was hoping for an easy answer, a fairy godmother with a magic wand. “I’m still so mad at him.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say you were more hurt than mad.” Mandy’s usual smile was back in place. “Let my stubborn son stew for a while. Let him come back to you. I’m sure he’s hurting as badly as you are this morning.”
“Worse, I’d guess, since he knows what he did to you was wrong,” David added.
I had to admit that was some of the best advice I’d ever been given in my life. I couldn’t imagine sitting at my parents’ kitchen table and telling them about my man troubles. They’d probably come back with something about not having this same kind of trouble if I dated girls.
Looking at Mandy and David doing their best to help me out reminded me of a line I’d heard somewhere. Some people are born to be parents, for others, it’s a simple matter of biology. My parents fell into the latter category for certain.
31
Kennedy
I was a wreck. After not sleeping all night and beating myself up over what I’d said to Gunnar, I was a complete disaster. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to get me though this day.
Gunnar hadn’t call
ed or texted. Why would he? I’d gone and ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me. My brothers were blowing up my phone. Of course they would after I had given Ozzy the abridged version of what happened last night.
Christ, how the hell was I going to set things right again? Not only had I told Gunnar he needed to quit his job, but I’d also told him he’d be living in an empty apartment without me. I really was the dumbest asshole breathing.
The question now was what to do next? I could pick up the phone and call him. Aside from texting, that would be the lamest thing I could do. FaceTime would be better. Gunnar would be able to see me and how sincere I was about apologizing. He’d also get a front row seat to how awful I looked. The sympathy vote never hurt.
What would I say? I’m sorry, was the easiest, but what I felt right now went so far past just a simple apology. I’d gone and questioned everything about Gunnar’s new life.
I could picture him on the day we met with that big U-Haul truck and nothing in it. He’d looked like a man down on his luck, without a friend in the world. I’d been a dick to him that day too, but somehow, he’d managed to forgive me. Gunnar was the strong one. I tried to act all big and tough, but he was the one with real guts. I don’t know what the hell I would have done if David and Mandy had kicked me out of their house. I might have started out as an orphaned foster child, but they’d quickly shown me the meaning of family. I know for a fact I wouldn’t have recovered if they’d told me to leave.
Not only was Gunnar surviving, he’d been thriving. He’d gotten a shit job washing fire trucks and mopping floors. Not only had he taken it, but he’d managed to soar. Everyone at that firehouse loved him and I knew for a fact Hal Rossi wanted to date him.
Maybe that would be for the best. Hal was a good guy from a good family. He’d gone to school to get his paramedic certification and graduated at the top of his class. He volunteered at the local food bank and gave blood as often as he was able. Hal was the perfect man. He’d treat Gunnar right and wouldn’t give him any macho bullshit like I’d done with him last night.
