Prologue
Cruz
“Cruz, come on in,”Memphis said after shaking my hand. I nodded and followed my boss to the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see Ronan waiting there. Despite the man’s increasing focus on his family and medical career, he still had his fingers in every aspect of the vigilante group he’d founded.
I’d never personally met the third man in the room, but I knew who he was. Memphis had already given me the heads-up that he was a close friend of his and Ronan’s and that he was connected to the powerful Barretti family.
“Cruz, this is Declan Barretti,” Memphis said.
“Captain,” I said politely as I extended my hand to the man who’d risen from his position on the couch. He tilted his head at me, probably because I’d used his formal title rather than his name.
“Please, call me Declan,” he murmured as he shook my hand. I already knew the man was in his late forties, since I’d done as much research on him as I could once Memphis had told me about the meeting. I’d spent the better part of the evening weeding through the murky family tree that was the Barretti clan. Declan had actually married into the family years earlier, though I wasn’t sure if marriage was the correct term, since he was in a relationship withtwo men at the same time. I’d seen some news articles about Declan and his partners, Ren Barretti and Jagger Varos, having had some type of commitment ceremony, but I wasn’t about to ask about it.
It certainly wasn’t any of my business.
I was here to do a job, nothing more.
“Declan,” I said with a nod.
I stepped past Declan and shook Ronan’s hand, then took the chair that Ronan motioned to. It was a good spot because it would allow me to read Declan’s expressions as he spoke. Despite the fact that he was close to Ronan and Memphis, I still wanted the ability to judge for myself how forthcoming the man was.
Declan was a big guy and a good-looking one, but there was a certain weariness about him. I wondered if it had anything to do with why I’d been called in. The fact that he was a captain in the Seattle Police Department had piqued my interest from the get-go, since it wasn’t typical for a do-it-by-the-books cop to seek the help of guys like Ronan and Memphis.
After all, it wasn’t like what me and the other guys who worked for Ronan did was exactly aboveboard.
“Declan has asked us for assistance with a case,” Memphis began before deferring to Declan.
Declan swallowed hard and nodded. I had to wonder if whoever the subject was had some kind of personal connection to Declan because he seemed pained as he tried to figure out where to start.
“His name is Elliot Wittier,” Declan said. Memphis handed me a file folder and I quickly flipped it open. My eyes fell on the picture that was on top of the stack of papers. I quelled my reaction to the sight of the gorgeous man and promptly shut the folder again.
I’d have time to study the contents later. For now, I wanted to focus all my attention on the man asking for my help.
But the piercing blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and rangy body from the photograph rode the edge of my vision as Declan began speaking.
“We received a 911 call last night from the office of the foundation he runs. Elliot was returning to the office to pick up somethingon his way home from a dinner meeting. He walked in on someone vandalizing the place and got roughed up.”
My fists automatically tightened on the folder in my hands. “Is he okay?” I asked quickly, despite my intent to remain emotionally detached from the police captain’s story.
“Couple of scrapes and bruises. He declined medical treatment.”
I nodded and ignored the need to fire more questions at Declan.
I also ignored the innate desire to flip the folder open again so I could take in Elliot’s image once more. Even now, I was wondering about the severity of his injuries.
It wasn’t a good sign.
“When I heard about the attack, I went down there myself,” Declan said.
“You have a personal connection to him?” I asked.
Declan paused and shifted his eyes to the ground briefly. “I do,” he said softly. I was surprised when Ronan settled his hand on Declan’s shoulder.
“There’s no judgement here, Declan,” Ronan said gently.
Declan nodded. “Elliot is the son of the man I was partnered with shortly after I got out of the police academy. His name was Mac. I wasn’t out back then, but Mac was. The department wasn’t exactly tolerant when it came to homosexuals on the force. Mac, he didn’t care, but I did. I knew what it meant.”
When Declan seemed too pained to continue, I said, “Your brothers in blue wouldn’t have your back.”
