“You didn’t kill him, Xavier? That’s not like you.”
“You’ll never purge the killer, Jericho. You know that as well as I do.” I look at Matthew, who looks right back. “But sometimes there are more important things.”
Jericho doesn’t respond, though the way he’s looking at me hides more understanding than he’s ever shown towards me.
“So what are we doing here?” Quinn says.
“Saving the day,” I reply laconically.
Will moves to stand beside Matthew and says something quietly to him. Whatever it is, it helps bring back a little colour to his face when he nods in reply.
A noise sounds nearby, and Will immediately switches focus, lifting his rifle in that direction. He nudges Matthew behind him. “Is this place secure?”
“Probably,” Miles says, not elaborating.
“What do you mean by that?” Quinn asks, clearly secure in the knowledge that if there’s trouble, Will has it covered. “We’re saving the day how, exactly?”
“Just over that way, you’ll find some dead drug dealers,” I say, waving vaguely in that direction. “Along with a case of enough drugs to make you a hero. And”—I hold up my phone—“footage that’ll make you cream your pants.”
“I’ll take that,” Jericho growls, swiping it out of my hand. “Don’t ever talk about getting off and my boyfriend in the same sentence, ever again.”
“He asked,” I say with fake innocence.
“It’s not that good anyway,” Hunter says dryly. “He’s exaggerating. But you will get some clear images of faces, including ones that ran when shots were fired. Give us a few days, and we’ll get you names.”
“That’s great and all,” Will says, back still turned to us as he scans the area. “But we can’t legally use any of that; what are we supposed to do with it?”
“I’m sure you can find a way.”
Quinn rubs his forehead. “I’m getting a headache,” he mutters. He holds out a hand, and Jericho drops the phone into it. “What’s the code?”
“One, two, three, four,” I say with a straight face.
“You’ve got to be actually kidding me,” Jericho bursts out. “That’syour fucking phone code? And you want me to trust you with my baby brother? I’ll tell you where to—”
“Well, it’s not my phone,” I interrupt, smiling at Jericho’s annoyed face. “Burner phone. You understand.”
“I’m not a baby anything, and you’re getting off subject,” Hunter says before Jericho can murder me. “Can we focus, please? We need to take Matthew home.”
Jericho squeezes Quinn’s shoulder and turns away from me. He’s been working on his self-control. How admirable.
Hunter isn’t wrong, however. Matthew looks worse for wear and a few steps away from collapsing. No matter how long our night has been, his has been infinitely longer. “It’s been a pleasure, Jericho. Do have fun with our crime scene.”
Jericho looks to the sky with a long, aggravated sigh. “Why are you doing this to me, Hunter?”
Hunter kisses his temple. “It’s what baby brothers do.”
Jericho narrows his eyes at his brother, but Hunter is already at my side, gesturing for me to go. I wink and send a little finger wave to Jericho, who snarls silently in return.
Hunter gently places a hand on the small of Matthew’s back. Matthew doesn’t look at him, and his steps are unsteady as he walks. My own falter when he wraps his arms around himself. Trying to protect himself. We’ve tainted something that was nothing but light.
It doesn’t matter that we warned him. The damage is still the same.
Matthew
MybrotherJack’scaris in the driveway when I pull up to his house, with his wife Lana’s car behind it. Since I didn’t call beforehand, that's lucky. They’re not homebodies, so my chances of them being home on any given day are like 70/30, not in my favour.
No one is in the living room that’s all part of the entryway. Or the kitchen. “Hello?”
