by Ella Frank
I supposed I could ask Sean, Bailey’s oldest brother and total pain in the ass, for some advice. He was a detective with the Chicago Police Department and would no doubt have a few connections with personal security firms. But I wasn’t at all comfortable with going to Sean and asking for help.
Yes, we’d known each other nearly all our lives, but we’d never had an easy relationship, more a relationship due to circumstance. I was in his brother Bailey’s life, therefore I was also in his. But what other option did I have?
“I know someone who should be able to get me in touch with the right people,” I said.
“Should be able to? That’s not good enough.”
“Will be able to.”
“You need to get on this tonight. I want a name by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow. Or you’ll get whoever I stick you with.” Marcus pointed to the messages on the paper. “This person is not fucking around, and you’d be smart not to either.”
I nodded, understanding the severity of the situation even though I didn’t want to.
“Okay, leave it with me.” I fished my cell phone out of my pocket to look for Sean’s number. “I’ll have a name for you by tomorrow.”
“See that you do,” Marcus said as I headed for his office door. “Oh, and Alexander?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful who you trust. People aren’t always who they appear to be.”
I frowned but nodded as I opened the door and headed out into the hall, where I hit Detective Sean Bailey’s number and waited for him to answer.
2
Sean
“YOU NEARLY DONE for the night, Sean?”
I glanced over the partition between our desks to see Mick Callahan switching off his desk lamp and getting to his feet. I leaned back in my chair and winced at the stiffness in my lower back. “Yeah, almost. I got a few more things to log in to evidence on the Willow case, but then I’ll be out.”
“You need any help?”
I arched an eyebrow as Callahan grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and shrugged into it. “And if I said yes?”
“I’d tell you to go ask Davies. I got a hot date tonight, and I ain’t breaking it for you.”
“Like I’d want you to.” I returned my attention to my computer. “But I gotta say, it felt really fucking good getting that asshole off the streets today. Even if I did have to spend one too many months working with the likes of you.”
“Eh, you loved every minute of it.” Callahan stopped with one hand on the door. “But don’t forget to go home tonight. If not for sleep, to get a change of clothes. Those jeans and that shirt are about to walk right out of here.”
“Hey, I wore these so I’d fit in.”
“Sure you did. You even smell like you fit in. Night, Sean.”
“Fuck off, Callahan.”
Callahan’s chuckle was muffled as the door swung shut behind him, and as his words rattled around in my brain I took a quick whiff of myself and was relieved to discover that he was full of shit. My clothes might’ve looked a week old and well lived in, but there was no lingering odor to them. If I’d been out there any longer, that might’ve been a whole different story.
Tonight’s arrest had brought an end to a three-month case I’d been working with the guns and gangs unit, hence my shadow, Callahan. They’d been tracking down an illegal gun dealer that had left a trail of dead bodies along the way.
It’d been a long, round-the-clock case that had left little time for anything other than work, and after I logged in a gold Rolex watch—the final piece of evidence—I shut the file and ran a hand through my too-long hair. I’d let it go over the last couple of weeks, and decided the first thing I would do tomorrow was get it cut.
Jesus, I was tired, my lack of sleep and, well, life finally catching up with me as I looked at the clock and saw I’d put in yet another eighteen-plus-hour day. Shit. I switched off my computer and shoved back from my desk, my bones protesting as I unfolded myself from the unstable seat I’d been perched on for the last couple of hours filling out paperwork.
I needed a vacation. It wasn’t often I thought that—okay, I’d never actually thought that—but as I pushed my chair under the desk and grabbed my phone to see two missed calls from Bailey, one of my younger brothers, I knew it was time.
I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen my family or been able to attend one of our Saturday night dinners. I’d been so busy on this case that it had consumed all my time. But as I headed out to the parking lot, I decided I’d done the right thing in asking for some leave.
Around six months ago I’d come precariously close to hitting rock bottom. But after a come to Jesus talk from Bailey, I’d decided that maybe the bottom of a bottle wasn’t the answer to all my issues and decided to just bury them in work instead. Now it was time to unwind.
I pushed the button on my key fob to unlock the door to my black SUV, and as I climbed inside and started the engine, my phone began to ring. I looked down at the screen and frowned at the name, but as Xander’s number continued to light up my phone, my brain went into automatic panic mode. There was only one reason Alexander Thorne called me, and it usually had to do with my brother and Xander’s best friend—Bailey.
Shit, maybe something had happened to him. Like that time Bailey had been involved in a shooting on the job.
I hit accept, and it connected to my stereo system. “Xander? Is everything all right? Is Bailey?”
“Hello to you too, Sean. I’m doing fine, thanks for asking. How are you?”
I narrowed my eyes on my phone but said nothing in response. Xander sighed.
“Everything is fine. Bailey is fine. As far as I know.”
“What do you mean as far as you know?”
“Well, I haven’t seen him since Saturday, and that was six days ago, so—”
“Xander.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Is Bailey okay?”
“Yes. I assume so.”
“Okay. Jesus.” I looked at the time and noted it was about an hour or so after Xander’s broadcast. “So what’s with the call, then?”
Xander coughed. “I, um…”
I frowned as I waited for him to continue. It was unlike Xander to be at a loss for words, but then again, it was also completely unlike him to call me…at all.
“I was wondering if I could swing by your place tonight and pick your brain about something.”
Nothing he could’ve said would’ve shocked me more. I’d known Xander nearly all of my life. He’d always been in it in some capacity. First, as the skinny little kid next door, then as Bailey’s annoying best friend, and later his boyfriend.
As far as I knew, they were back to the whole best friend thing since Henri Boudreaux had come on the scene, which seemed a little complicated to me. But as far as I was concerned, Xander had always just been there. You know, like another…brother, I guess.
“Swing by? You’ve never swung by my place, Xander. Do you even know where I live?”
“I will when you tell me.” Xander paused, and I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter something before he spoke up again. “Come on, Sean. I need some advice and I don’t want to beat down Bailey and Henri’s door at night—”
“Why not? Worried you’ll interrupt something?”
“No, I just don’t want to bother them with this when I can ask you. Stop being a shit and help me, would you?”
I couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but Xander’s pissed-off tone had my weary brain re-engaging. “Yeah, okay. Swing on by. I’ll be home in ten.”
“Sean?”
“Yeah.”
“I need your address.”
Huh, how weird was that? In all the years I’d known Xander, he’d never known where I lived. Guess he wasn’t that much like a brother after all. Not that it mattered. Whatever was bothering him had to be something pretty serious if he was willing to drive his million-dollar self out into my neck of the woods. “I’ll
text it to you now. See you soon.”
3
Xander
THERE WAS ONLY one reason I ventured outside of the city and into the burbs, and it usually had to do with one of the Bailey brothers. Granted, it wasn’t usually this Bailey brother, but since the other one was all but engaged these days, I’d decided to hedge my bets.
As I turned on to Sean’s street and pulled into the short drive behind his SUV, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d made the right decision tonight. I hadn’t seen Sean in a while, which wasn’t anything unusual when he got a case. But the last few times we had been in contact, things had been a little…tense.
Sean was an “all work, no play” guy. The Chicago Police Department was the only world he seemed to know. I understood that, the “work hard and never stop” mentality, and I respected it. I was much the same. I’d had to be to get where I was today.
The difference, however, was that I knew how to stop. When the news was done for the night, and I stepped out of the ENN building, I made sure I had a life. Friends, lovers, a world that wasn’t always so serious. A world that had some kind of lightness and levity to it. Otherwise I’d wind up a cynical, jaded pain in the ass—which, of course, led me right back to Sean.
Not the most affable guy around, Sean Bailey didn’t make it easy for others to approach, and while that probably served him well in his line of work, when it came to interpersonal relationships, it made things…difficult.
Those messages Marcus had shown me tonight made braving Sean seem worth it, though. They’d left me more than a little rattled, to where I’d all but strangled my steering wheel on the way over here, while looking in my rearview mirror like some kind of fugitive. And if swallowing my pride and asking for help was what I needed to feel somewhat at ease in my own skin again, then I’d swallow that bitter pill and beg Sean for a name and number.
Letting out a sigh, I climbed out of my Maserati and closed the door behind me. I wasn’t looking forward to this. I hated asking for help, almost as much as I hated the idea of some bodyguard monitoring my every move, but Marcus wanted a name by the morning, and I’d be damned if I didn’t get him one.
I smoothed my hands over the lapels of my suit jacket as I walked up a cracked concrete path toward the home. As I approached, a sensor light switched on over a plain white door, and I noted the few scraggly hedges around the entrance that had seen better days. Then, just as I was about to knock, the door was pulled wide open.
“Well, what do we have here? The illustrious Alexander Thorne standing on my li’l ole doorstep. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
I glared at Sean, and in that moment wished I’d had that final growth spurt that pushed me past his six-three frame. But no, Bailey and I had topped out at an even six, leaving Sean to lord it over us for the rest of our lives.
With shoulders broad enough that they just about filled the doorframe and an attitude pricklier than a porcupine’s, I supposed Sean’s overall appearance and demeanor helped when it came to his chosen career path. However, to those of us who existed in a world where we had to converse with others, it was a rare day that Sean didn’t open his mouth and somehow irritate the shit out of someone close by.
That someone right now just so happened to be me. “Are you done? Did you get it all out of your system?”
Sean rubbed his fingers over the dark scruff covering his chin and shrugged. “Maybe? Maybe not. Come on, Xander. You got to admit, it’s not exactly an everyday occurrence for you to rock up at my place in the shadows of twilight. What’d you do, kill someone?”
“No. Jesus. Would you just get out of the way and let me inside?” I took a step forward and shoved him in the arm, and Sean finally stepped out of the way.
“Okay, relax.” He chuckled. “No need to get all pissy about it.”
But as I walked into a narrow hall and stopped to see him still standing in the open doorway, there was no relaxing in sight.
Ever since I’d left the news station, I’d been trying to push aside the nerves that had been building in me. I’d tried not to think about who might be watching me, who might be following me. But as Sean stood there with the door wide for anyone to see, a wave of panic rushed in, and I, well…I lost my shit. “Can you hurry up and shut the fucking door?”
Sean’s eyes widened, and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he slammed the door shut behind him.
“Lock it, too.” Sean opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off, not in the mood for any of his smartass retorts. “Just do it, Sean.”
I watched closely as Sean not only engaged the lock on the handle, but also the chain, then he turned back to me and crossed his arms. “Okay, it’s locked. You wanna maybe tell me what’s got your panties in such a bunch tonight?”
“I don’t wear— Shit. I just…” I ran a hand through my hair. “I just need to talk to you, and I’d rather not do it with the door open for the world to hear, if that’s okay with you.” When Sean merely stood there, I looked over my shoulder and down the hall. “This the way to your living room?”
“I guess you could call it that,” Sean said, as I headed off in that direction. “Not that I do that much living in it.”
I came to a stop in the sparse space and scanned the bare walls, lone recliner, and mounted television on the far wall. “I can see why.”
“Yeah? Well, not all of us can live in a fancy-ass skyscraper, you know.”
I totally agreed, and didn’t actually think Sean would know how to enjoy the finer aspects of luxury apartment living. But this? This place was just depressing.
“You ever heard of a photo or coat of paint?” I took another look around. “Something to add a little bit of character to the place?”
“My bad.” Sean came around to stand in front of me. “And here I thought we could sit around and discuss what kind of color scheme would go best with my complexion. I thought you were here for help, not to offer up your expert design skills.”
“Can’t I do both?”
“No, you can’t. I just got off a long-ass case, I’m tired, and you called me. So what’s going on, Xander?”
He was right. I was the one who’d called, the one who was inconveniencing him, and here I was being a rude shit.
What can I say? Sean always brought out the best in me.
“I need your help.”
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that—”
“Sean, can you just for one second in your life not talk? Please.”
Sean shrugged and kept his mouth shut—shocker. I swear, the guy could talk under water with marbles in his mouth. Always had an answer for everything.
“I need your help,” I said. “I have to get some…personal security.”
When Sean stood there mute, I glared at him, and he pointed to his mouth. It was official. I was going to kill him.
“You can talk.”
“Are you sure?”
I gnashed my teeth together, and Sean smirked.
“Just checking.”
“More like agitating. So? Can you help me out or not?”
Sean’s dark blue eyes wandered over me. “Personal security, huh? I mean, I know you think you’re a big shot and everything in the news world, Xander. But I hardly think people are mobbing you when you walk down the street for an autograph.”
“Not that kind of— God, you’re annoying.”
Turning away from him so I wouldn’t resort to something as juvenile as punching him, I wandered over to the small hole in the wall that I supposed could constitute for a window, and found myself thinking about who was out there. Who might be looking in.
Shaking off those thoughts, I quickly got back on topic.
“My station wants me to hire a bodyguard. Trust me, if I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. But since I don’t have a choice, I want to choose, and I thought that you might be able to help point me in the right direction of a company I could—”
“Wait a minute. Hold up.” I turned to see Sean walking around
the recliner toward me. “Why do you need a bodyguard? Is someone threatening you?”
I thought about those final lines I’d read: I want to touch you, be with you, Alexander. You’re meant2bmine, and soon you will be.
I slipped my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking and tried my hardest not to appear unnerved. “It’s nothing, really.”
Sean took a step closer and scrutinized my expression, searching for the truth. And for the first time since I’d entered his home, there was no joke lingering in his eyes. Sean looked one hundred percent serious.
“That wasn’t my question, Xander. Has someone been threatening you?”
4
Sean
I WASN’T SURE why, but the idea that someone had been messing with Xander made me want to ram my fist through a wall. Sure, we’d had our ups and downs in the past, but that was to be expected between people who’d been in each other’s lives for as long as we had been.
But the thought of someone making Xander feel unsafe? Making him feel as though he needed protection when he walked down the damn street? Well, that just made my blood fucking boil.
As I waited for a response, Xander cocked his head so he could look me in the eye. I could see the indecision there, that confidence I knew he prided himself with faltering as he struggled with his next move.
Truth or lie. Truth or lie. He nodded.
“Yes, okay? There have been three threats sent to the station.”
“Directly against you?”
He swallowed but kept eye contact. “Directly against me.”
Shit, this was not good. Whatever had been sent had spooked Xander, and considering how put together the guy usually was, that had my senses tingling.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck, trying to decide how best to play this. But one thing I knew for certain was that I needed more information. “Has this kind of thing happened before? I imagine you get crazies every now and then, annoyed at what you’re reporting or how.”
