“Carlos. It’s after nine. Go home,” Hart said softly. “I’m good. I promise. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“You had a powwow scheduled with God, Day and Syn about their Cornelia gang warrant they’re serving in a few weeks. But it’s been canceled. Maybe you can sleep in, try to rest tomorr—”
“Wait. What do you mean ‘canceled’?” Hart frowned, searching the calendar on his desk. Sure enough. It had a line drawn through his eight o’clock team meeting. If God and Day were serving a high-risk warrant then he damn sure needed to be at that meeting.
“God canceled it,” Carlos said.
“What the hell for?” Hart stood.
“Because when you’re democratically elected leader you get to make autocratic decisions. The meeting’s postponed because I said so,” God said, looming imposingly in his doorway.
Hart slumped back in his chair. “What are you still doing here, Cash?”
“I heard what happened.” God sat across from him. “You good?”
Hart didn’t have to pretend with his friend. He ran his hands over his head and down his face. He closed his eyes, remembering the sound of the solid bang from the 9mm. “I just…”
“You gotta know that no matter what you did, no matter how your team would’ve entered. That was always going to be your suspect’s end game,” God said confidently.
“That’s the same thing I said,” Fox commented, coming through his side entrance.
“I know, okay. It still…” Hart grumbled.
“He died on your command. I get it. And nothing we say or do is going to change that fact. Nothing we can do to help. But, I know what does help.” God smirked.
Fox stared at God a moment then busted out in laughter. “Nothing like a good distraction. Maybe like the one I saw you holding onto in the break room earlier.”
Hart’s face heated. It was another reason why he was so down. He’d lost his opportunity at his first date. “Yeah well. Can’t say I would’ve been good company to him tonight anyway. And since it’s going on ten I think it’s safe to say I’ll be going home alone.” To distract myself.
He didn’t even have Free’s number. He would’ve at least texted and apologized. He never wanted to stand him up.
“It’s not about you being good company. Let him be there for you, man.” God stood and went to his office door. He turned back and looked at him. “When shit gets too real for me in that office, sometimes there’s nothing Leo can say. All my husband can do is put his arms around me and just let me feel him. Let Free do that for you. It’s time you experienced the comfort only a man can give you.”
“But—”
God opened the door and Free stood there in a comfortable-looking sweat suit and a book bag slung over one shoulder. He wasn’t wearing the fashionable outfit he’d had on earlier. Hart figured he must’ve gone home and changed, then came back. For him.
“Hey,” Free said softly, walking inside.
Fox stood, squeezing his shoulder as he walked by. “God, I’ll walk out with you.”
“Cool.” God left without another word. Leaving him alone with Free and his messed-up head.
“I thought you’d left,” Hart croaked. He stood and came around his large desk, his body feeling its age.
“I did. But, I came back to wait.”
Hart grimaced when he checked the clock. “You didn’t have to stay around that long.”
“I didn’t mind. I said I’d be right here when you got back.” Free kept walking until they were chest to chest. His voice was low and soothing when he asked, “Are you okay? God told me what happened.”
He squeezed his eyes shut again. No. I’m not. It was hard to think about it. Each time he did he saw the suspect’s haunted expression, heard his own scream, then the inevitable pop.
Warm hands touched his cheeks. “Look at me.”
Hart opened his eyes, preferring the vision of beauty in front of him to the gruesome image behind his lids. Free smelled so clean, as if he was fresh out of the shower, his golden skin glowing in the dim lighting of his office. He stood close and let Free wrap his long arms around his neck. They stared at each other for a long, comfortable moment. He absently ran his hands up and down Free’s strong back, feeling the lithe muscles through the thick material of the hoodie as he held him tight. It felt so good, so real. He buried his nose in Free’s throat and inhaled his, rich scent, letting it relax him. It truly was a comfort only a man could give him right then.
They stood their cheek to cheek, chest to chest, breathing together. Free squeezed him tighter, showing him his strength. His body language telling him that he could lean on him for a while. Hart wasn’t sure he knew how to do that. It was always him having to be there for others. How could he receive what Free was offering when he’d never been given the opportunity before?