Destiny Calls

by Samantha Wayland

  Brandon joined in the laughter, firing back when his or Patrick"s honor needed defending. But mostly he just worried about Patrick.

  Anna patted his knee when he fell quiet for a moment. He looked up at her and she smiled fondly. She mouthed, “He"ll be fine” before winking at him.

  He gave her a tentative smile back. She just rolled her eyes and laughed.

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  He started to convince himself it didn"t mean she knew. That she understood. Then a large, hard shoulder bumped him from the side. He turned to look at David Zapetti.

  “Hey, man,” Zapetti murmured with good humor, pitching his voice beneath the raucous laughter around them. “Stop mooning, for Christ"s sake. He"ll be fine. We"ll get the paperwork shit cleared out fast and then you three can go home and do whatever it is you do when no one is looking.”

  Brandon responded automatically. “What? I don"t know—” Zapetti cut him off with a laugh and another shoulder bump. “Save it, man. You"re not fooling anyone. And if anyone cares? It"s just "cause they"re jealous, Cub.” Brandon blinked at his friend, a man with a bodybuilder"s physique, a legendary rapport with the ladies, an MP5 submachine gun slung around his neck and a gold cross tucked into his bulletproof vest.

  He honestly didn"t know what the fuck to say.

  Destiny woke up and couldn"t remember where she was. She was about to sit up when the press of a hard metal into her hip reminded her she was sleeping on a tiny cot in an empty office at the Boston Police Department.

  When Captain Sullivan had set up the space for her, she"d thought she"d never be able to get to sleep. In reality, she thought she might have passed out in under three minutes.

  She never would have guessed there was so much paperwork to go along with police work. She"d heard the boys complain about it every day of their careers, but since she lived in paperwork up to her eyeballs, she"d always dismissed their bitching. Now having seen the mountain of forms that went along with five arrests and a SWAT Team deployment, she had to agree.

  Amidst the grueling red tape, there had been some interesting moments. Brandon was able to identify the other two attackers from the first assault and she the young addict who had approached her on the street. He was the saddest of the bunch—barely twenty and hooked on god-only-knew what.

  She"d wanted to hate him, but in the end had only been able to thank him. He"d been the reason she"d returned to Patrick and Brandon. Of course, this hadn"t been his intent, but in his own sad, broken way, he"d been trying to help her.

  She could only hope that someday he"d understand. Love beats hate. Every time.

  She"d been delighted by the arrival of Ryanne Choate, an old friend theirs going back to high school days. She"d be the District Attorney on this whole big mess, which made Destiny feel confident it would all work out well. They"d had a couple minutes to talk, mostly about the case, but long enough to be reminded that Ryanne"s son, Jack, was growing up too fast. How could he already be a year old?

  Destiny smiled into her makeshift pillow, imagining a little boy with big blue eyes and blond curls running through Ethel"s house.

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  She needed to find Patrick. She needed to have him and Brandon in her arms, whole and healthy, so she could tell them what was in her heart. What had always been in her heart.

  She"d come too close to losing it all.

  She remembered how Ryanne and Captain Sullivan had calmly discussed whether to charge everyone with conspiracy to commit murder. She"d swayed on her feet, stumbling into Captain Sullivan"s steady arm.

  They"d intended to kill Patrick. To take him away from her forever. Despite knowing the truth, to hear them voice it had been terrifying. After holding herself together for what had felt like eternity, waiting for Brandon and the SWAT Team to report back, hearing Patrick declare his love over the radio, even knowing Patrick was safe, she had fallen apart.

  Sometimes a person needed a really good cry. This had definitely been one of those times.

  Lord, she"d been beside herself. In hindsight, she could acknowledge that Captain Sullivan had been right to insist she get some sleep. She"d been running on absolute empty.

  She"d lain down with the intention of resting her feet and her head for just a few minutes, figuring she"d get up when Brandon came to check on her, as he had promised.

  She smiled and snuggled into the warmth wrapped around her back. He"d done more than check in. He"d crawled in beside her and fallen asleep. Right where she needed him to be. Forever.

  The only thing missing was Patrick.

  It wasn"t an easy thing to roll over in a cot with two people in it, but she managed not to fall on her ass. She didn"t succeed in accomplishing her feat without waking Brandon. His heavy gaze met hers when she settled more or less on top of him, his legs shifting to accommodate her.

  “Can we go get him now?” she asked.

  He smiled a little. “We don"t have to. He woke up a couple hours ago, bitching to anyone who would listen that he needed to get the hell back here and give his statement.”

  “You know he just wants to see us, right?”

  Brandon"s smile widened. “Of course.”

  For a moment they lay there and enjoyed each other"s warmth and the surety of Patrick"s love.

  Patrick was seriously the most hungover person in the entire history of the City of Boston and that was really saying something, as anyone who"d ever spent a St. Patrick"s Day in his fine city would know.

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  His head felt like it was going to split in two and his stomach was a frustrating combination of desperate for food and certain that anything he ate would promptly be chucked back up.

  The doctors had promised him his systems would settle in the next couple hours and had strongly encouraged him to remain under their care until that came to pass. No way. He had to get back to the station.

  He had to get back to Destiny and Brandon.

  McGuire had been waiting by his hospital bed when he"d finally woken up. He"d known Patrick would want to get his memories down on paper as quickly as possible and took Patrick"s statement while the nurses fussed over the IV tubes with which they were pushing gallons of fluids into him. The only reason Patrick had stopped his account was to drag all his IV stands into the bathroom, three times, proving that the rehydration process was complete long before the sadistic doctors would unhook him.

  He might have ripped all the needles out of his arms before they had a chance, had McGuire not assured him, repeatedly, that Brandon and Destiny were fine, that Ryanne was keeping Destiny company, that Sully was also not far at any time, and that Carter had been sent home after completing his paperwork for the night.

  It had helped him hold on a little longer at the hospital, but even McGuire couldn"t go on torturing him and told the doctors to let him go, promising to drive him back to the station and keep an eye on him.

  And McGuire was welcome to try, but he was going to get one heck of an eyeful.

  The moment McGuire stopped the car, Patrick was out, running up the stairs to the bullpen with one hand on the railing and the other trying to hold the two halves of his head together.

  The smash of the door against the wall almost took him to his knees, but then he saw them.

  Thank. God.

  Destiny turned first and was at a dead run in the blink of an eye. Brandon wasn"t far behind, though his expression told Patrick that he was a bit concerned about the way Patrick was using one hand to hold his head together. Patrick didn"t have time to think before Destiny launched herself into his chest, her legs around his waist, his arms coming around her ribs as he staggered backward. He might have fallen on his ass, but Brandon grabbed them, wrapping his arms around them both.

  He clutched Brandon"s back, holding tight while the tension left his body in a giddy rush. Destiny"s tears wet his cheek, her lips rubbing against his jaw. Brandon murmured soft words to
him. To both of them.

  “We"re all okay. It"s over now. We"re all okay.”

  Someone cleared their throat and Patrick opened his eyes. Sully stood smiling at them, his eyebrows raised, and nodded his head to indicate the twenty or more people staring at them with varying degrees of wide eyes, goofy smiles and confused frowns.

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  “Shall we move this into my office before The Globe comes to take pictures?” Sully asked.

  Brandon immediately moved back, blocking the room from the view of Destiny"s ass as she lowered her legs and put her skirt back to rights. Patrick took a deep breath and tried to clear his head with a good shake.

  Big mistake. If it wasn"t for Brandon grabbing his sleeve, he might have fallen over.

  It was a sweet relief when Sully closed his office door against the rising din of gossip being unleashed in the bullpen. Not that Patrick cared, but the noise was like a jackhammer bouncing around his skull.

  He looked at Sully who was regarding him with concern, bordering on alarm. Time to pay the piper.

  “Boss, I"m sorry to disappoint you, but I"m in love with Brandon and Destiny and plan to spend the rest of my life with both of them.” He heard Destiny squeak and watched Brandon clap a hand over his mouth, which had just fallen open. He didn"t care. He wasn"t made for closet living and this shit had to end. What if the next bad guy got him? How could he live, let alone die, without telling the truth about the people he loved?

  Sully looked damn uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and staring at his shoes. He had probably just shocked his boss speechless. He thought he might be able to hear his father rolling over in his grave as he threw away his police career—and in front of his father"s old partner, no less.

  Patrick wouldn"t have given a shit about any of that, if the partner in question hadn"t been so much like a father to him too.

  “Am I fired?”

  Sully"s head snapped up, his stare drilling a hole through Patrick. “What?”

  “Am I fired?”

  “No, you are not fired.” Sully seemed damned irritated about that.

  “But you"re appalled, right?” Patrick asked sadly.

  Sully slammed his hands onto his hips. “No, son, I"m not appalled. Is that what you think of me?”

  “You look appalled,” Patrick pointed out.

  “Well, hell, I guess I am—but only because I think this is what you kids call a TMI violation.”

  A muffled snort issued from behind Brandon"s hand. Patrick sent him a dirty look.

  He turned back to Sully. “I don"t understand.”

  The captain sighed. “Patrick, I think of you like a son. And like any of my sons, I really do not want to know anything at all about your sex life. Please,” he pleaded, actually shuddering. “You live your life as you see fit. You know I"m fond of Destiny 193

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  and Brandon. Just, for god"s sake, no details! And don"t you dare tell Shirley about this.”

  “Why, because she’d be appalled?” Patrick asked, totally confused and trying to make sense of what Sully was saying.

  “No, son, I just don"t want you giving her any ideas. I"m too old for that shit. I can barely keep up with her as it is.”

  An image popped into his head and Patrick couldn"t control his face fast enough to hide his response.

  Sully laughed. “Well, now you know how it feels to get a little too much information. See how you like it? Now, please, it"s time for you go home—all of you. I don"t want to see any of your faces for a few days.” 194

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  Chapter Eighteen

  Brandon wanted to rip off his and their clothes and roll around in bed, rejoicing that they were all home, safe, together. And he would have, but it was impossible not to see Patrick wasn"t feeling one hundred percent. Nor could he ignore how the long night was dragging on Destiny.

  So, though it was still early on a bright, sunny fall day, they crawled into bed the moment they arrived home. They were asleep in one big, happy pile within seconds.

  Brandon woke up with Patrick half on top of him and Destiny gone. He managed to wriggle out from under Patrick, the rubbing almost sending his good intentions right out the window, and went in search of Destiny. He tried not to worry she"d fled after Patrick"s declaration of love to Sully. He wanted to believe she wouldn"t do that again.

  If for no other reason than he"d been watching her while Patrick had been announcing his long-term intentions and all she"d done was smile happily.

  Brandon still couldn"t believe Patrick had gone and outed himself to Sully. To everyone. The declarations of love over the radio could be explained away by drugs, the group hug in the bullpen by years of friendship, but there was no mistaking the way he"d held both of their hands as they"d walked out of the precinct together.

  It was official. They were out. Hell, they were so far out, the closet was now in a different zip code.

  It had taken him his entire adult life to get up the courage to be open about his sexuality and then he"d done it because he"d felt he hadn"t had a choice. Patrick had done it in under three weeks and only because it was the right thing to do.

  How could he not be completely in love with the jerk?

  He was wondering how long it would take him to get used to knowing it was reciprocated when he entered the kitchen and found Destiny at the table, stacks of papers and books spread out around her, her laptop glowing in the soft light. It was almost sunset. They"d slept the entire day away.

  He didn"t bother to ask before lifting her out of her chair, sitting in it and dropping her back down on his lap. She immediately curled into him, her nose pressed to his throat.

  He was sure he"d never get used to having her and Patrick"s love.

  “Hey there, sleepyhead,” she murmured against his skin.

  “Hey there. Whatcha doing?”

  “Oh, just trying to dig myself out of work. I don"t have Sully to tell me to take a few days off, so I have to go back tomorrow.”

  Brandon frowned. “You should get some rest, though.” 195

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  Destiny smiled up at him. “Oh, I did. Unlike you two, I slept for a while at the station. And I slept for a few hours once we got home, but then Farley was giving me goo-goo eyes and I thought about how we needed food, and I needed to get my work and run some errands.”

  “You"ve been busy.”

  He could feel her smile against his skin. “I wanted to make sure I could give my undivided attention to other things once you two woke up.”

  “That sounds like a really good idea,” he offered, the mere idea of what they might get up to enough to send blood singing to his cock. He knew the moment Destiny felt his response by the sultry wiggle of her ass over his burgeoning erection.

  He hummed low in his throat. Shit, that felt good.

  As much as he wanted to do something about the blood pumping into his now fully hard cock, he also wanted to wait for Patrick to join them. He could see the happiness shining in Destiny"s eyes and knew they"d turned a corner. A few of them, as a matter of fact, but none more important than the quiet acceptance and contentedness he sensed from Destiny.

  With more willpower than he thought he possessed, he helped her up off his lap and stood. She looked disappointed and he chuckled.

  “Back to work!” he said, pointing at her laptop.

  She pouted but sat at her computer, while he retrieved the newspaper from the front porch and sat with her. Patrick stumbled downstairs an hour later, complaining that his hangover had been replaced by ravenous hunger.

  He was recovered. Brandon could see his relief mirrored in Destiny"s expression as they watched a clear-eyed Patrick prowl around the kitchen.

  Destiny pointed Patrick to the dinner-makings she had purchased and he set about making them all a meal. Brandon sat back and enjoyed how their lives were quickly returning to normal.

  Well, the new normal.

  An h
our later, dinner was over and his lovers were doing the dishes. Destiny squeaked and batted Patrick"s hand away when he palmed her breast with one soapy hand, leaving an obvious and tantalizingly see-through handprint behind. He laughed and returned to the dishes, his dimple winking, eyes sparkling. Destiny"s smile was bright as she laughed at him and herself.

  They were beautiful. Perfect. And they were his.

  He smiled at Destiny when she returned to the work she"d shoved aside. Patrick continued to scrub at the pots and pans, making a racket on the other side of the kitchen.

  Reaching across the table, she took his hand and spoke softly. “I"m in love with you.”

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  His heart squeezed almost painfully in his chest. It was such an acute happiness, he couldn"t help but smile and laugh. The noises of dishes being washed summarily stopped, the faucet still running, forgotten. “Yeah?” Brandon asked. He could see in her eyes just how much she meant it.

  “I thought you should know,” she said seriously.

  “Thanks.” He gauged the level of his relief at hearing the words. “I guess I needed to.”

  “Good,” she said, returning to the papers before her.

  He looked over his shoulder and tried really hard not to crack up at Patrick standing agape at the sink, staring at her, quite obviously ready to beg to hear the words.

  “Patrick?” Destiny called quietly, still studying her notes as if they were discussing tomorrow"s dinner menu.

  “Yes?” he replied quickly, giving away his eager attention.

  She winked at Brandon. “I"m moving in.”

  Patrick swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “And so is Brandon.”

  Patrick looked over at him, the question in his eyes. “Cub?” Could Patrick really doubt it, even it for a moment? “Of course I am.” Patrick smiled and sighed at once. “Great.”

  “And Patrick?” Destiny called, pulling his rapt gaze back to her.

  “Yes, Kitten?”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “You do?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

  “I"m in love with you too. I"m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.” Patrick"s smile would be answer enough for anyone. She looked at Brandon. “And I"m sorry I didn"t jump your bones sooner.”