Brady hadn’t had any idea what he’d been offered the night before.
He did now.
HE HADten minutes to get his shit together before the other nurse hustled in, Nurse Dara.
“George, there’s, like, six cops in the lobby, wanting to interrogate the prisoners. I told them they couldn’t, but they’re going to crash back here anyway. What should we do?”
Brady blinked. Oh God. “Do you have any security here?” he asked.
“One old retired cop currently kissing their boots,” Nurse Dara replied in disgust. “I recognize that I might have to give my life in service of the greater good, but protecting these bank robber dickheads does not fit the bill. What do you think we should do?”
“Where are the other three?” Brady asked.
“One’s in surgery and one’s getting prepped for a life flight. The military copter is—”
“Military,” George muttered. “Why didn’t I think about that. Brady, while they’re all here, I think maybe you should take your department issue back to the station and grab your own vehicle. Maybe call Ace—he can meet you and sweep it for bugs. I’m going to get Constance in on this. I hate to break up his date night, but no. No, we’renotpulling a Butch and Sundance here, not when Jai and I are going hiking in Tehachapi tomorrow. I’ve been looking forward to this forweeks. Amal, take care of him while I make some calls.”
George strode off, and Nurse Amal Dara grunted. “And I’ve been looking forward to having the house to myself for the sameamount of time. Here, Officer Carnegie. I can show you a little back door here, and you can go fetch your own car. Trust me—leaving it at the station house isn’t what you want for your property today.”
Brady glanced from Dara to the guy in the bed. “You didn’t hear what he—”
Amal Dara shook his head. “Let’s just say I recognize that boot print. I’d give a whole lot of my life to not be on the wrong side of that shoe, if you know what I mean. And not because it could do bad things to me, but because it wouldmeanbad things aboutme. George and Jai bought a house with three guest rooms so I could room in one. You want loyalty in Southern California? Try affordable rent and roommates who go out of their way to buy you your favorite ice cream.”
While he spoke he guided Brady through the back corridors of the tiny hospital, opening a door into the long shadows of a late-winter sunset—and the back parking lot where Brady’s police issue SUV sat.
“Is everybody else parked in front?” he asked, thinking that there wasn’t much room for more than an ambulance bay and a couple of cars bringing patients to the ER.
“Yup. They’re assholes, and it’s a goat fuck. You could probably honk your horn like the General Lee and they still couldn’t catch you.”
Brady gave him a faint grin. “I don’t know how to thank you—”
Amal waved his hand. “I’m sure there will be a barbecue or a thing or something. Keep these assholes away from our little gay nirvana in the desert and that’s plenty of thanks, okay?”
Brady nodded dumbly.
He didn’t say that the “little gay nirvana” in the desert was possibly the only refuge for him in the world right now, but he sure did feel it in his bones.
HE KEPThis radio on, hands sweating on the wheel, until he was almost at the station. Suddenly there was a squawk and a whole lot of conflicting protests about “That damn colonel kicking us out of the hospital!” and “Where the hell does he think he’s taking our prisoners!” And then, almost exclusively, “Brady Carnegie, get your scrawny faggoty ass back here. What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Brady listened to that and cackled, not sure why he was so delighted except he felt like a five-year-old playing hide and seek while his parents freaked the fuck out.
Still, when his cell phone rang with an unfamiliar ringtone, he shut off his radio, knowing he could get fired for that alone, and picked up his phone.
To his surprise and relief, Ace’s voice came through.
“So pick up your vehicle”—and God, that voice did not get any less sexy, did it?—“and meet me at the gas station by the burger joint near your apartment complex.”
“You know where I live?” he practically whimpered.
“Do I know where you—oh my God. You pretty much told us where you lived when you crashed breakfast in the cul-de-sac. Don’t bore me with details, Brady, this is serious.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling lost. “What are we doing at the gas station?”
“Switching your car out, and then you’re giving your keys to somebody who will go get your clothes. I think you need to take a vacation, don’t you?”
“But….” He tried to catch his breath. “Ace… I didn’tdoanything?”
“Really?” Ace asked, the edge of sarcasm in his voice. “Did youreallynot do anything?”
