“Of course.”
* * * *
Galen rubbed his face. Exhaustion, aching bones, lacerations—God, he felt old. And frustrated. He’d worried and worked to keep Sally safe, and instead she’d ended up front and center in a bloodbath. Insisted on being there. God, she was brave.
The door to the house creaked; Sally stepped out on the patio. With just the sight of her, his muscles and bones and soul seemed to inhale contentment. She was alive. No longer in danger.
She gave him an uncertain look, something he never wanted to see from her. “Can I join you or—”
“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” He reached out.
She took his hand with cold fingers. Resisting his attempt to pull her onto his lap, she edged his legs apart and knelt between them.
Seeing her unhappy expression, he wasn’t tempted by her provocative position. Instead he ran his hand down her silky hair. “Tell me.”
She lowered her gaze…and he permitted it…for the moment. “Um,” she said and paused briefly. “I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn’t know—imagine—how dangerous. But you told me how you and Vance got shot up. I watched Tillman’s funeral. Saw his children.”
Look at her, launching herself right at the heart of the matter. Before he’d known her—back when he’d just watched her in the club, she’d been a bossy little sub. Finding out that she’d hidden her emotions had come as a surprise. But now she was still a bossy little sub, and even better, she was hiding no longer. He was wicked proud of her. “Go on.”
“I…I just wanted you to know that I’m struggling with it. I know I can’t ask you to give up your careers for safer ones, but…”
He chuckled. “Seems we’ve been having the same arguments with ourselves. You see, Vance and I planned to ask you to not take a job in a police station because they stress you out.”
“You’d choose my job for me?” A sparkle of anger lit in her eyes.
Galen shook her head. No, she wouldn’t want to give up her dream of working in law enforcement. She wanted to be a hero.
“Not because of the danger.” At the slight lift of her chin, he admitted, “Not entirely. But face it, pet, you don’t sleep well if you have to visit crime scenes.”
“I haven’t noticed you sleeping all that well either, Mr. Big Shot Special Agent.”
“I don’t have a pro—” He stopped his automatic…idiotic…response, because she was right. How many years had it been since he slept without worrying about problems? Or having nightmares?
Each new case dragged him further toward—he stroked her hair and smiled—toward what the imp would call the dark side. If he continued, would he be able to fight his way free?
Earlier, Z had stated the Association was finished, and Galen had been happy, feeling as if he’d stepped into the sunlight.
Slowly but surely, his life had grown…narrower. Less balanced. Even with Sally to love, he didn’t see that changing.
So, what was he planning to bring to a relationship? To Sally?
As he looked down at the submissive at his feet, at his sweet imp, he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in darkness. Didn’t want to drag her down either, because, being Sally, she’d dive in to help.
And she’d worry when he got pulled back into another case. She’d be right. He wasn’t able to distance himself from the cases he took. He never had been.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who wanted to be a hero.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Several days later, Vance followed Galen onto their dock. Although his partner was using his cane more, his limp had returned to “normal.”
In contrast, Vance could feel pain stab into his leg with each step. Fuck, he was getting old.
But it was fucking nice to get out of the house. To be outside. And alive. Under his bare feet, the wood was damp and rough. A thunderstorm had passed through earlier, leaving the night air cool, almost crisp. Reflections of the house lights danced on the dark water.
Turning to face Vance, Galen set one hip against a post, shook his head, and pointed at a chair. “Sit before you fall on your ass.”
Ignoring the urge to remain standing to prove him wrong, Vance gingerly settled into a chair. “You wanted me out here—away from Sally. What’s up?”
“I’m quitting the FBI.”
Disbelief kept Vance silent as Galen talked. He’d break up their partnership? After everything they’d been through? The years together?
When Galen fell silent, Vance realized he hadn’t heard a word. “Go through it again; I missed some.” All, actually.
After a frown, Galen simply nodded and started over.
This time, Vance managed to listen. To process. Mostly.
Galen was talking about Sally’s worries for their safety. About his need to protect her—and not see her upset in her job. That fair was fair. That he was tired. That he got too involved with cases—although Vance figured obsessed would be more accurate. That it was time for a change.
Galen stopped, looked at Vance for a minute, and turned to watch the water. Giving him space and time.
Vance realized he was rubbing the itching wound on his leg and forced himself to stop. Another scar for Sally to play with, to add to the others he’d collected. Some agents retired without their bodies looking like a battleground. Sally had good reason to fear for her Doms.
And if they died, she’d mourn them. She loved fiercely. Completely. She wouldn’t recover from their loss easily. The thought of hurting her in that way was difficult.
Even worse was the thought of losing either her or Galen to violence. And, this was where Galen’s logic had obviously taken him. They couldn’t tolerate seeing Sally in danger; she felt the same about them.
So Galen wanted to quit.
Vance cleared his throat, unsettled at the rough sound. His partner turned, face dark, eyes remote, but Vance could read him. Always could, even from the start. Yeah, he loved the asshole, probably more than he’d have loved a real brother. “I’m not ready to quit the FBI.”
As Galen’s mouth tightened, Vance knew his response had hit his partner like a knife stroke.
Galen pulled in a breath. “I understand. I thought you might feel—”
“You talked,” Vance interrupted. “Let me finish, you pushy bastard.”
Galen blinked. His lips curved slightly as he stood straighter and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating alpha-male stance.
Vance stretched his legs out, settling down into the chair in a body-language response of: I’m comfortable even if you are standing.
Galen laughed.
Yeah, how many people would understand the unspoken maneuverings and find them funny?
Vance couldn’t see a life without Galen. And he didn’t want his loved ones’ terrified every day he went to work. There was a compromise, though. “I’m not ready to leave, but we’ve both turned down advancement into supervisory positions. Let me see if I can’t move into one of those. As long as they can station me here.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re right, bro. It’s time to get off the firing line. I might be three years younger, but I’m tired of waking up in a hospital.”
Galen sank into a chair. “Didn’t think you’d take this so well.”
“I’m the flexible one, remember?” Vance tipped his head back. The moon was rising, a waning ball of light glowing over the treetops. The lake was quiet. Peaceful. Yeah, he was tired of cold winters. Snow. Could see sitting out here with a beer after the kids went to bed. “What will you do? Can’t see you retiring.” Couldn’t see him giving up the thrill of the chase, either.
“I’m looking at starting an investigative company, specializing in locating whatever is missing—money, information, people. I have enough contacts to get it up and running.”
Would probably work, Vance thought. The clever bastard had a Master’s in business as well as criminology. He’d even started off in the white-collar crime division.
“I’ll manage. We’ll hire people for the fieldwork. To travel. Sally can do her computer magic from here.”
Vance’s mouth curved into a smile. “Clever. Very clever. You’re going to lure her away from corpses and blood-streaked apartments.”
Galen opened his hand. “Want in?”
Vance considered. He’d enjoy the work, and it was appealing to keep the partnership together. But no. “I want a few more years with the Feds. But after that, yes.” He shook his head. “Might be good to have a bit more space anyway…if we’re going to make this a formal sort of relationship.”
“I’m not sure how to do that,” Galen admitted. “Sally deserves a fancy wedding as well as legal protection.”
“Well, now, I’ve been thinking about that.”
* * * *
Inside, Sally ended the call on her cell with mixed emotions.
Tate had been calling each week…just to get to know her again. This evening, after regaling her with Emma and Dylan stories, he’d mentioned their father. Apparently the children had told their friends about the fiasco of a dinner party…and what Sally had said. Sally was still remembered fondly by the townspeople. Her father was now being avoided.
* * * *
Galen rubbed his face. Exhaustion, aching bones, lacerations—God, he felt old. And frustrated. He’d worried and worked to keep Sally safe, and instead she’d ended up front and center in a bloodbath. Insisted on being there. God, she was brave.
The door to the house creaked; Sally stepped out on the patio. With just the sight of her, his muscles and bones and soul seemed to inhale contentment. She was alive. No longer in danger.
She gave him an uncertain look, something he never wanted to see from her. “Can I join you or—”
“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” He reached out.
She took his hand with cold fingers. Resisting his attempt to pull her onto his lap, she edged his legs apart and knelt between them.
Seeing her unhappy expression, he wasn’t tempted by her provocative position. Instead he ran his hand down her silky hair. “Tell me.”
She lowered her gaze…and he permitted it…for the moment. “Um,” she said and paused briefly. “I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn’t know—imagine—how dangerous. But you told me how you and Vance got shot up. I watched Tillman’s funeral. Saw his children.”
Look at her, launching herself right at the heart of the matter. Before he’d known her—back when he’d just watched her in the club, she’d been a bossy little sub. Finding out that she’d hidden her emotions had come as a surprise. But now she was still a bossy little sub, and even better, she was hiding no longer. He was wicked proud of her. “Go on.”
“I…I just wanted you to know that I’m struggling with it. I know I can’t ask you to give up your careers for safer ones, but…”
He chuckled. “Seems we’ve been having the same arguments with ourselves. You see, Vance and I planned to ask you to not take a job in a police station because they stress you out.”
“You’d choose my job for me?” A sparkle of anger lit in her eyes.
Galen shook her head. No, she wouldn’t want to give up her dream of working in law enforcement. She wanted to be a hero.
“Not because of the danger.” At the slight lift of her chin, he admitted, “Not entirely. But face it, pet, you don’t sleep well if you have to visit crime scenes.”
“I haven’t noticed you sleeping all that well either, Mr. Big Shot Special Agent.”
“I don’t have a pro—” He stopped his automatic…idiotic…response, because she was right. How many years had it been since he slept without worrying about problems? Or having nightmares?
Each new case dragged him further toward—he stroked her hair and smiled—toward what the imp would call the dark side. If he continued, would he be able to fight his way free?
Earlier, Z had stated the Association was finished, and Galen had been happy, feeling as if he’d stepped into the sunlight.
Slowly but surely, his life had grown…narrower. Less balanced. Even with Sally to love, he didn’t see that changing.
So, what was he planning to bring to a relationship? To Sally?
As he looked down at the submissive at his feet, at his sweet imp, he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in darkness. Didn’t want to drag her down either, because, being Sally, she’d dive in to help.
And she’d worry when he got pulled back into another case. She’d be right. He wasn’t able to distance himself from the cases he took. He never had been.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who wanted to be a hero.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Several days later, Vance followed Galen onto their dock. Although his partner was using his cane more, his limp had returned to “normal.”
In contrast, Vance could feel pain stab into his leg with each step. Fuck, he was getting old.
But it was fucking nice to get out of the house. To be outside. And alive. Under his bare feet, the wood was damp and rough. A thunderstorm had passed through earlier, leaving the night air cool, almost crisp. Reflections of the house lights danced on the dark water.
Turning to face Vance, Galen set one hip against a post, shook his head, and pointed at a chair. “Sit before you fall on your ass.”
Ignoring the urge to remain standing to prove him wrong, Vance gingerly settled into a chair. “You wanted me out here—away from Sally. What’s up?”
“I’m quitting the FBI.”
Disbelief kept Vance silent as Galen talked. He’d break up their partnership? After everything they’d been through? The years together?
When Galen fell silent, Vance realized he hadn’t heard a word. “Go through it again; I missed some.” All, actually.
After a frown, Galen simply nodded and started over.
This time, Vance managed to listen. To process. Mostly.
Galen was talking about Sally’s worries for their safety. About his need to protect her—and not see her upset in her job. That fair was fair. That he was tired. That he got too involved with cases—although Vance figured obsessed would be more accurate. That it was time for a change.
Galen stopped, looked at Vance for a minute, and turned to watch the water. Giving him space and time.
Vance realized he was rubbing the itching wound on his leg and forced himself to stop. Another scar for Sally to play with, to add to the others he’d collected. Some agents retired without their bodies looking like a battleground. Sally had good reason to fear for her Doms.
And if they died, she’d mourn them. She loved fiercely. Completely. She wouldn’t recover from their loss easily. The thought of hurting her in that way was difficult.
Even worse was the thought of losing either her or Galen to violence. And, this was where Galen’s logic had obviously taken him. They couldn’t tolerate seeing Sally in danger; she felt the same about them.
So Galen wanted to quit.
Vance cleared his throat, unsettled at the rough sound. His partner turned, face dark, eyes remote, but Vance could read him. Always could, even from the start. Yeah, he loved the asshole, probably more than he’d have loved a real brother. “I’m not ready to quit the FBI.”
As Galen’s mouth tightened, Vance knew his response had hit his partner like a knife stroke.
Galen pulled in a breath. “I understand. I thought you might feel—”
“You talked,” Vance interrupted. “Let me finish, you pushy bastard.”
Galen blinked. His lips curved slightly as he stood straighter and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating alpha-male stance.
Vance stretched his legs out, settling down into the chair in a body-language response of: I’m comfortable even if you are standing.
Galen laughed.
Yeah, how many people would understand the unspoken maneuverings and find them funny?
Vance couldn’t see a life without Galen. And he didn’t want his loved ones’ terrified every day he went to work. There was a compromise, though. “I’m not ready to leave, but we’ve both turned down advancement into supervisory positions. Let me see if I can’t move into one of those. As long as they can station me here.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re right, bro. It’s time to get off the firing line. I might be three years younger, but I’m tired of waking up in a hospital.”
Galen sank into a chair. “Didn’t think you’d take this so well.”
“I’m the flexible one, remember?” Vance tipped his head back. The moon was rising, a waning ball of light glowing over the treetops. The lake was quiet. Peaceful. Yeah, he was tired of cold winters. Snow. Could see sitting out here with a beer after the kids went to bed. “What will you do? Can’t see you retiring.” Couldn’t see him giving up the thrill of the chase, either.
“I’m looking at starting an investigative company, specializing in locating whatever is missing—money, information, people. I have enough contacts to get it up and running.”
Would probably work, Vance thought. The clever bastard had a Master’s in business as well as criminology. He’d even started off in the white-collar crime division.
“I’ll manage. We’ll hire people for the fieldwork. To travel. Sally can do her computer magic from here.”
Vance’s mouth curved into a smile. “Clever. Very clever. You’re going to lure her away from corpses and blood-streaked apartments.”
Galen opened his hand. “Want in?”
Vance considered. He’d enjoy the work, and it was appealing to keep the partnership together. But no. “I want a few more years with the Feds. But after that, yes.” He shook his head. “Might be good to have a bit more space anyway…if we’re going to make this a formal sort of relationship.”
“I’m not sure how to do that,” Galen admitted. “Sally deserves a fancy wedding as well as legal protection.”
“Well, now, I’ve been thinking about that.”
* * * *
Inside, Sally ended the call on her cell with mixed emotions.
Tate had been calling each week…just to get to know her again. This evening, after regaling her with Emma and Dylan stories, he’d mentioned their father. Apparently the children had told their friends about the fiasco of a dinner party…and what Sally had said. Sally was still remembered fondly by the townspeople. Her father was now being avoided.
