Valor on the Move

Sex with Darnell had always been fun and casual. No strings. No stress. But not anymore. “I’d say no. I’d say it would feel like cheating. Like a betrayal. Christ, this doesn’t make any sense. I’m way too old for him. Eighteen years. That’s…a whole other person. Jesus, I could practically be his father.”

“Since when does love make sense?” Darnell sipped his beer. “And sure, you’re technically old enough to be his daddy—just—but you’re not. Nothing wrong with someone younger or older bringing a different perspective to a person’s life. A new energy. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Finding people who make our lives better? Friends, lovers, whatever. People who wake us the fuck up.”

“Yeah.” Shane fiddled with the label on his beer bottle, tearing off a long strip. “I’m thinking about surfing again because of him. Thinking about home. Mom and Dad.” His eyes stung, and he shook his head. “Shit. I’m gonna start blubbering. I’m a wreck.”

“What you are is exhausted. Not to mention emotionally repressed. Hey, you can blubber any time, my friend. And if this kid’s getting under your skin and loosening up that shit-ton of guilt and grief you’ve got built up? That’s a damn good thing in my book.”

Breathing deeply, Shane got himself together. “I guess it is. But it doesn’t really matter. It’s impossible. Even if I moved off his detail, it’s not like we could start…dating.” He barked out a laugh. “I’m just imagining the faces at HQ. It can’t happen. I can’t even call him. Had his number in my work phone, but they took it at the scene as evidence. Routine procedure. He might as well be on the moon.”

“But come the new year, Castillo’s out of office. Rafael will be just an ordinary citizen.”

Shane quickly smothered the flare of hope. “He’s moving to Australia to go to the Cordon Bleu school there. It’s just not going to happen. It’s not feasible for a million reasons.”

“Hmm. Maybe not. But stranger things have happened, my friend.”

“Doubtful.” As Shane finished his beer he knew it was impossible. There were fantasies, and there was reality. He and Rafa didn’t have a future. They couldn’t.

But a little part of him still whispered, maybe.

It felt like his head had barely hit the pillow, but when Shane squinted at the clock, it was five a.m. He fumbled for his personal cell phone on the bedside table. “Kendrick.”

“It’s Nguyen. We need you at HQ for an official depo. Zero-seven-hundred.”

“Right. Any word on Pearce?”

“He’s stable. Surgery was a success. It won’t be quick, but they expect him to recover.”

Thank God. Shane breathed a little easier. “Glad to hear it. See you soon.”

He hauled himself out of bed and into the bathroom. After splashing his face with cold water, he stared at his bleary reflection in the mirror. He wanted to sleep for days, but it wasn’t an option. His gut simmered with acid as he rushed through his morning routine and put on a clean suit. His pistol had been bagged as evidence, along with the M-16. He felt naked without his weapon, but quickly snapped his badge and handcuffs to his belt.

In the unmarked headquarters building, they wound up in a windowless boardroom with an oval table. Harris, Nguyen and five other agents he didn’t know sat along one side. Shane took one of the empty chairs on the other, facing them. He doubted they’d slept.

“Morning,” Nguyen said. “Sorry to get you back in so early, but you know the routine.”

He’d actually never been involved in a protectee incident, but Shane could imagine he was in for endless questions. “No problem.” He breathed and kept his tone even. “How’s Valor?” To not be able to even talk to him was more torturous by the minute. Let alone the ache to take Rafa in his arms again.

“He’s good,” she answered. “Shaken up, but handling it well. There will be counseling, of course. But he’s a tough kid.”

“Glad to hear it.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask to see him, but Shane resisted. It wasn’t how they operated. He wasn’t supposed to care. “So, questions? Shoot.” He grimaced. “Probably a bad choice of words. “

Nguyen smiled—a momentary flick up of her closed lips, before indicating the man on her right. “This is Agent Blonsky. He has a few preliminary questions.”

Blonsky nodded briskly and referred to a piece of paper in an open folder. “Your parents are deceased?”

“Yes. A house fire six years ago.” But you know that already.

“You don’t have any siblings?”

“No.”

Blonsky still looked at the paper. “Are you in close contact with any other family members?”

“No. My mother was an only child, and my father wasn’t close with his brothers. I haven’t spoken to my uncles or cousins since before I joined the service.” Resentment simmered in his gut. No, I don’t have any family ties. Yes, that makes me a better mark to be turned by the enemy. Whoever the fuck the enemy is this week.