Javier looked back at Bowie, still sound asleep. “Dangle whatever low hanging fruit you have to in order to get him here. I can take it from there.”
There was a long pause. “You know I need to tell Linc about this, right?”
Linc was the least of Javier’s problems. The man might be the strong silent type, but there was no doubt he’d kill to protect his husband. “He’ll get why I need to do this. Bowieneedsthis so he can heal and move on with his life.”
“You know, even if you kill whoever’s still after Bowie, that doesn’t fix your mess over here. They’re still looking at the two of you for murder,” Nicky reminded.
Javier scoffed. “They have nothing on us, no matter how badly they wish they did. They can just keep chasing their tails until they shelve it for the cold case detectives twenty years from now.”
“They have an entire show on ID about all the people who went to jail decades after they committed a crime…you get that, right? Like, jail is still jail.”
Javier sighed. “I can take the L in twenty years. That’s future Javi’s problem. The only thing that matters is Bowie.”
“Holy shit, man. You are so far gone on this kid. I gotta say, none of us saw this coming. Maybe we should have. Bowie’s a cupcake. And way too good for you.”
“Yeah, that I know. Run the evidence. Keep me posted. Let me know the second Giordano does something out of character. Also, check if Junior left behind anybody who’d care he died other than Daddy. If we can’t chase the DNA, maybe we can at least identify the players on the board.”
“Roger that. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Yeah.”
Nicky disconnected without a goodbye. Javier didn’t blame him. He most likely would have never even answered the phone.
Warm hands snaked around his torso, causing him to jump, a second before Bowie’s lips trailed along his spine to his shoulder. “You scared me, angel.”
“Ballet makes me very good at sneaking up on people. I can be very light on my feet when I need to,” Bowie said. “Who were you talking to?”
“Nicky.”
“And?”
“And nothing. None of the evidence is processed yet. He’s managed to get some background on the Giordano family.”
Bowie’s fingers spasmed over his heart. “Like what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“He’s done this before…hasn’t he? That’s why you don’t want to tell me. Because I wasn’t the first?”
“I don’t want to tell you because it doesn’t matter. Like you, those victims did everything they could to try to keep what happened to them from happening to others and they were shut down every step of the way. Two of them forever. I thought Giordano was a bad apple. Turns out the whole fucking tree is poison.”
“So, what do we do?” Bowie asked, lips pressed to the skin between his shoulder blades.
Javier turned, wrapping Bowie in his embrace.“For now? We wait. We still need confirmation that it was Giordano who came after you. I also need him here, in Mexico.”
“Just the idea of him being in the same place as me makes me sick and I don’t even know him. Just the thought of it…”
“I won’t let anybody hurt you.”
Bowie shook his head, looking up at him. “That’s the thing. I’m not scared. I’m pissed. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, tired of feeling like a pawn to rich people who think they can do whatever they want. I just want this to be over, once and for all. I want to move on with our lives, whatever that looks like.”
Javier didn’t even know what he could say to make Bowie feel better. “I know, angel. I know.”
Bowie laid his head on Javier’s shoulder. “Take me back to bed.”
Javier tipped Bowie’s head up and kissed him softly. “I hope you’re not asking me to carry you. Picking you up that one time almost put me in traction,” he murmured, low and throaty, waiting until Bowie processed his words.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Bowie’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Did you just call me fat?”
