“What the fuck’s with you?”
“Nothing,” I croaked.
“Oh, there’s my wife,” White said, smiling as he waved. “You guys wanna ride or—”
“No, we’re good,” I rasped, my mouth dry. “And you shouldn’t want Ford and Jenner near your wife anyway. They’re witnesses, or did you forget?”
“No, smartass, I didn’t forget.”
“Well, technically they shouldn’t have seen Kage’s family, either.”
“Yeah, but there’s grades of witness,” he reminded me. “And your boys are classified as friendly and long-term. You know that.”
I did know that.
“So,” he asked again. “Ride or no?”
“No, we’re good. You go home. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll see ya,” he said, chuckling, patting me on the shoulder before he dashed to the curb.
A gentle hand touched my back, and I turned to find Cabot there, looking concerned, Drake with him, holding both of their bags.
“You okay, Miro?” Cabot wanted to know.
“Yeah, buddy, I will be.”
His smile was blinding.
“Guys!” Ian yelled from the curb.
We all hurried.
Chapter 19
AT THE field office, we sat with Ryan and Dorsey as they performed the intake paperwork, going over the massive document that made Cabot Jenner and Drake Ford formal members of WITSEC. They went through where the boys would stay until an apartment was procured, how they were both officially now graduated from high school, and when they would go with me to the University of Chicago to get them both enrolled for the fall quarter.
“He went there,” Dorsey said, indicating me with a wave of his hand. “So he’s the best one to take you guys over.”
It took hours, like always—Ian and I had done it for others—and when I got up to go to the bathroom and get drinks for all involved, Kohn caught me in the hall.
“What?”
“White says you and Doyle are, like, together?”
I groaned.
“No, man,” he said, smiling, bumping me with his shoulder. “Nobody cares.”
“Maybe not you and White and—”
“Sharpe,” he teased.
Of course Sharpe already knew; White probably called him from the car. “Becker will care, so will Ching.”
“Nope,” Kohn assured me, shaking his head. “You and Doyle, we’re family, yeah? We’ve all got your back. You know that.”
I stared at him.
“Don’t be a dick, Jones,” he said irritably, walking away. “We never cared when we all knew it was just you.”
God, could it really be this easy? In our self-contained little group, no one cared? And it wasn’t that Ian and I were going to make a general announcement, but if the guys in our unit were okay with us, what else did we really need?
“Hey, you gotta come back in. Ryan’s digressing and we could be here all—what’s wrong?” Ian asked, walking around in front of me.
“Everybody knows.”
He shrugged. “Well, yeah, I told White I was gay at the airport. News travels fast with him. You know that.”
“White never let it slip about our boss.”
“That’s ’cause he’s our boss. But you and me are fair game.”
“So Ryan and Dorsey know?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Dorsey just said to Drake and Cabot that they’re lucky that they have gay marshals watching out for them, so we can run ’em down to Halstead.”
“He did not.”
Ian smirked.
“Fuckhead.”
“And you’re surprised, why?”
“Ian.”
He grunted.
“Are you sure you’re okay with all this?”
“I get to sleep with you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then, I’m good.”
I took a breath, and he took the cans of Pepsi out of my hands and walked back into the room. My plan was to follow him, but my phone rang, and seeing it was Liam, I answered.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “Is it okay if—”
“Miro,” Liam said.
“Yeah. Who else would it be?”
“Did Aruna call you?”
“No,” I said, and then a jolt of fear ran through me. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, we both are, but we’re here talking to the police.”
“What? Why?”
“Dude, we got carjacked.”
One of my dearest friends had her life threatened? “Holy shit,” I choked, bolting from the room, on the way to the elevator. “Where are you guys? I can be there in—”
“No, it’s—”
“Is Aruna all right?” I demanded, rushing down the hall. “Are you all right? Did you—”
“No, listen. Shut the fuck up and stop moving. Don’t do anything but listen.”
I froze where I was.
“I meant to say, we were almost carjacked.”
And that made all the difference in the world. “Maybe start with that next time, dickhead.”
He grunted instead of apologizing and then gave me the rundown. The way he explained it, he and Aruna had stopped at a light on their way home. Liam rolled down the driver’s-side window to give money to a homeless guy on the street, and when that guy stepped away from the car, another thrust a gun in Liam’s face.
Aruna screamed, and before a demand could be made, Chickie shoved between their seats, scrambled over Liam’s lap, and launched himself at the window in a fury of ferocious snarling and snapping jaws.
“Miro, he scared the fuck outta that guy. He dropped his gun and ran.”