Nic held him tight until the squeal of tires cut through their heavy breaths and the blood whooshing in Nic’s ears.
Letting Cam go, Nic slumped next to him, firing arm dangling at his side, as he struggled to catch his breath.“There are shot spotters in the parking lot.I need you to call the cops.”
“Yes, let’s get them out here.We need to report this.”
“No, I need you to call them off,” he wheezed out.
Spinning toward him, Cam shoved him back against the wall with a hand to his chest.“What the hell is going on?”
“They weren’t trying to kill me.”
Cam threw his other arm out toward the ravaged truck.“Those sure as shit look like bullet holes to me.”
Under the bright lights, Nic could see how the picture would give Cam that impression.Hell, maybe Mel was right.Maybe these weren’t just threats anymore, but if Cam went full agent mode on this, he’d discover secrets Nic never wanted him to find out.
Messes he never wanted to discuss again, especially with Cam.“They were just threatening,” he said.
“Threatening what?”
He skirted out from under Cam’s hand, turning for the door.“Let’s get inside.”
Cam grabbed him by the waistband, tugging back.“Nic, what the fuck is going on?”
Nic shook himself loose, stepping over to the main door’s keypad.“I’m going to tell you, Boston.”He held the door open.“Just, inside, please, in case the shooter changes their mind.”
That got through to him.Nic closed and locked the door behind them, passing Cam in the hallway and heading straight for the bar.He laid his gun on the end of the shiny bar top, raised the bar flip, and stepped behind the bar.“Call the cops off, please.”
“And tell them what?”Cam crowded into the back bar with him.It was a spacious area relatively, but with Cam and all of his Agent Byrne persona filling it, the back bar seemed half its usual size.
“Tell them we’ve got it handled.”
“It’s not my jurisdiction.”
“Tell them who you are and that it’s a threat connected to one of our cases.Federal jurisdiction.”
“Is it?”
“Jesus Christ, Boston, now is not the time to argue.Please, just do it, for me.”Low, manipulative blow, but Nic would play any card he had right now to keep the local cops out of his business.
Another few seconds’ stare-down, then Cam spun away, digging out his phone and radioing in.It took some negotiation, but shortly after the first sirens reached Nic’s ears, they began to fade away, diverted.He grabbed two pint glasses, filling them with imperial stout from the tap while Cam wrapped up the call.He hung up and wasted no time crowding Nic back into the corner.
“Explain,” he demanded.
“My father’s having financial issues.”
“You two are estranged.”
He was a good investigator, having put enough of the story together already, no doubt from the other night and from Nic’s silence on the matter.
Nic scooted around him and retrieved the pint glasses, holding one out to Cam.A peace offering that mollified him only slightly.Nic waited for him to take a sip, took one of his own, then said, “Before this week, I hadn’t spoken to Curtis Price in twenty-seven years.”
“When you came out?”
He nodded.It had been the most horrible week of his life—from graduation to losing everything that mattered to his father disowning him.“I walked into the enlistment office the day after I got my high school diploma.”
Cam’s brow knitted.“What does that have to do with?—”
“No matter the relationship,” Nic said, cutting him off, “I’m still the son of a supposed real estate mogul.”
