Getting seen to at the MDF was a similar process in other ERs, except for how Dr. Gold had a power that made all of Brendan’s bruises fade in minutes after they were recorded for a report. The cracked ribs he’d suffered through in the attack mended most of the way, and a portable regen unit took care of the rest. Within an hour, Brendan was fully healed and feeling vastly overwhelmed about everything that had happened to him in his apartment.
“Here,” Trevor said, shrugging out of his jacket when he noticed Brendan shaking a little. “You look cold.”
He probably could have asked for a blanket, but Trevor’s jacket was warm from body heat, and Brendan tucked himself inside it gratefully. He took a deep breath, smelling Trevor’s cologne in the material, and it helped calm his nerves.
Brendan cleared his throat. “When can I go home?”
“You can’t. I’m sorry. Your apartment is a crime scene and the Sons of Adam know where you live. You aren’t going back there.”
Brendan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stay calm. Those two cops—cops who were supposed to beprotectinghim—had let those assholes into his apartment to kill him. Trevor was right. He couldn’t go home.
“So what now?” he asked, voice breaking a little.
Careful fingers stroked over his hair to linger on the back of his neck. “Hey, look at me.”
Brendan lifted his head, blinking open his eyes. Trevor was leaning against the biobed, looking at Brendan as if he were the only thing that mattered.
“Do you trust me?” Trevor asked.
Brendan didn’t hesitate when he said, “Yes.”
Out of everyone in his life, Brendan trusted Trevor the most right now. He had a feeling he always would.
9
Washington, D.C.
USA
The lightsin Trevor’s apartment automatically came on when the front door slid open. The penthouse was an open-plan design surrounded by window-walls and a military-grade security system. While Jamie had bought it, Trevor had picked it out. Filled with comfortable furniture and holopics of his family and friends on every wall, the apartment always felt lonely whenever he came home.
Tonight was different.
Taking Brendan’s hand in his, Trevor guided the other man inside. Brendan looked around with curious eyes, sticking close despite it being safe. He wore some spare clothes that Gracie had procured for him since his own had been beyond saving.
“Wow,” Brendan said, taking in the city view. “That’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, staring at Brendan. “How are you feeling?”
Brendan shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Not sure.”
“I know what might help.” He tugged Brendan after him, heading for the wet bar near the kitchen. “Do you drink?”
“When I can afford to.”
Alcohol was expensive at a bar and even more so to drink at home. The water tax to make any kind of alcohol was exorbitant, but Jamie was very generous when it came to keeping the team’s alcohol stash stocked up.
Trevor only let Brendan go to get their drinks. He pulled out a pair of small stemmed glasses and grabbed the closest tequila bottle, pouring out two generous shots. He eschewed the lime and salt most people used.
“Sip it like wine, don’t shoot it,” Trevor said when he handed Brendan his glass.
Good tequila wasn’t meant to go untasted. Brendan sniffed it first before taking a tentative sip. He made an appreciative sound that made Trevor’s cock twitch in jeans.
“It’s good,” Brendan said, sounding surprised. “I don’t think I’ve had tequila like this before.”
“Figured you could use something to settle your nerves.”
Brendan snorted. “I think I need something more than alcohol for that to work. Tonight was just utter fucking shit.”
