Chapter One

 

Solomon rolled out of bed at dawn. He’d been awake for hours, but the first weak rays of sunlight streaming into his upstairs window gave him a valid excuse to start his day.

Time to run.

He’d always found comfort in keeping to familiar routines, and his early morning jog through the quiet, older neighborhood usually helped him get his head on straight. Afterwards he had a shower, hot black coffee and scrambled egg whites to look forward to.

He’d had the same morning schedule for years. The only difference now was he didn’t put on his clean uniform and head to the station after breakfast. Some days he still had to remind himself that he had nowhere he needed to be. He hadn’t for a while.

Until he’d resigned from the only job he’d ever known, stopped cutting his hair and come out to his family near the first of the year, his life had been consistent. Structured. Now there were some days he barely recognized himself in the mirror.

He was the second Chief Solomon Finn to remove his badge and retire early. He never knew the reason his father had made his decision, but he’d left for family reasons. Personal reasons. It was an impulsive decision, but at the time he’d seen no other option.

Now his days revolved around what he wanted instead of what was expected. He’d been more available to the people he cared about. He’d also spent more time volunteering at the youth center. He’d become friends with several volunteers as the police chief, and they’d welcomed him with open arms and a schedule that gave him something to look forward to. The kids welcomed him as well, and it was a balm for his soul after this last year.

Since his savings and investments insured he had at least another year before he had to make any definitive career decisions, he had all the time he could ask for to do whatever he wanted to do.

He was untethered. Free. No obligations. No demands on his time.

At first he’d been surprised at how well he’d taken to it. He’d never had any time off before, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d relaxed. Vacation Younger, his family had called him, when they’d gotten over their shock.

Initially his brothers assumed he’d retired because he was having a mid-life crisis. But when he hadn’t purchased a new house or car, and hadn’t celebrated his coming out by dating some guy half his age, they’d started to worry.

That was when the campaign to get him an active social life had begun in earnest. Jeremy, Rory, his Aunt Ellen, everyone knew someone they wanted him to meet for drinks. Stephen’s wife, Tasha, kept sending him articles from an advice columnist named Green.

It was thoughtful and generous. It was also the last thing he wanted.

He had no desire to go to clubs or connect to anyone online. He already knew what he wanted. Who he wanted.

The fact that the man in question wouldn’t give him the time of day was a problem no one in his family could help him resolve, and not something he was eager to share.

He picked up his pace, focusing on the sound of his shoes hitting the asphalt, the cold air that stung his cheeks and the sweat dripping down his spine. Anything to distract him from thinking about what he didn’t have, and the endless list of bad decisions that got him to where he was now.

Forty. Unemployed. Alone.

“God, but you look grim, Solomon. I thought healthy people were supposed to be so full of sunshine they shat rainbows and radiated pure joy. You can’t even claim job stress for that constipated scowl. You’re not really selling me on the lifestyle, if I’m honest.”

Where the hell had he come from?

Solomon kept his stride steady in spite of the surprise arrival of his Irish cousin, who’d managed to catch up to him mid-jog wearing his ever present motorcycle combat boots. “William. A little early in the day for a visit. Plus, as you can see I’m kind of busy at the moment. What did you do this time?”

Someday he was going to pay Seamus Finn back for this. One trip to Ireland and he’d come back with a rich lover and three new relatives. Bellamy was a great guy, but his new cousins—this one in particular—he could live without.

Finns and vacations were not a good combination.

William smirked, an expression that seemed permanently etched into his face and begged to be knocked off every time Solomon saw it. Since he’d fought with his fists for money more often than not, he probably did it on purpose.

“I might be offended, cuz. What makes you think I did anything wrong? Maybe it’s a brisk, beautiful morning, I didn’t feel like going to sleep yet, and you’re the only one I know who gets up this early on purpose.”

Maybe he was full of shit. That was more likely.

He didn’t respond. William would tell him what he wanted eventually. He did not play the silent game well. Then again, compared to Solomon, no one did. Talking was overrated and got a man into trouble. He’d seen it a hundred times on the job.

You have the right to remain silent. People would save themselves a hell of a lot of grief if they took that right a little more seriously.

Dogs didn’t need to talk. Maybe it was time to commit to a canine companion. His brother Rory’s boyfriend—one of them—had a sister who’d given several puppies to the family recently. Cute little things that needed a lot of attention, but made up for it by being loyal and obedient. And if he said something foolish, he’d be forgiven as long as he kept a treat in his pocket.

As if his thoughts had conjured up an example, they ran passed old Mr. Evers as he walked slowly to his mailbox, his shoulders hunched against the cold as his poodle circled and yipped at his heels. The man’s expression said he was rethinking his choice in companions. He glanced up, recognizing Solomon, but his watery eyes narrowed when they focused on the waving William.

“We had a neighbor like that once.” He sounded a little winded, Solomon noticed with satisfaction. “People didn’t know he’d kicked it for more than a week until his deliveries started piling up. When they found his body, they were horrified to see that his sweet, pampered terrier had eaten one ass cheek and the meat of his left leg clean off.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s the truth. And that small, noisy mongrel could be planning his last meal as we speak.”

Fine. He’d put off getting a dog. Now might not be the best time for it anyway.

It’s never the right time for you to have something you want, is it? You put things off, bottle things up and set them to the side for a day that never comes. Or comes too late to make a difference.

It was how he’d always been. He’d concealed his sexuality for most of his life, not because he was ashamed, but because he’d genuinely believed it was the best way to keep the peace in his family. And that faulty logic had come with repercussions that were still reverberating through his life and those of his five younger brothers.

The familiar self-recrimination surged inside him when he thought about what secrets had done to his family. Too many secrets, generations of them, and he and his brothers had continued the tradition.

You did say you were consistent.

Leaving William behind, he started to run faster, pushing his straining muscles to the limit to escape the boil of resentment in his blood. Sweat dripped in his eyes and his lungs filled with ice, but he welcomed the discomfort. Needed it.

“Sol! Oi, wait up,” William called out in surprise.

I’m not Sol.

His father was gone, but he was still a weight around Solomon’s neck. An albatross loaded down with the guilt he’d agreed to carry back when he’d committed his original sin of letting things lie.

“I’m gay too, Dad,” he’d whispered that final confession in his father’s ear at the end. A small act of defiance when what he needed was someone healthy and whole he could punish.

Standing in that hospital room, he’d wanted to force Elder to apologize to Rory. Some part of him held out hope, right until the last, that he’d see an ounce of regret, a shred of decency in the parent who’d raised them. A single spark he could grab on to and say, “I came from that.”

He supposed his father sending him for the journals that documented his youngest child’s abuse could be seen as his way of telling the truth. But he couldn’t shake the cynical belief that Sol had given him that job to ensure the secret was kept, not shared.

Because he believed you understood him. That you were like him.

For a time, he’d thought so too. Solomon the Younger had always followed the rules. He’d kept his siblings fed, clothed and in line in an attempt to save them from their father’s wrath, and done everything Elder expected a perfect son to do. From excelling at football to volunteering at the department as a high school student and signing up for the police academy as soon as he was eligible—he did it all to pacify the old man. To keep the peace.

Not all of it was selfless. Being a cop never bothered him the way it did his brothers. He understood it and he was good at it. He would have been happy to make a difference in relative obscurity for the rest of his career, but then his father had been the one to inexplicably retire, and he’d chosen Solomon to be his successor.

Though he’d been on the force for ten years at that point, there were older and more qualified men to take the job. Their loyalty to Sol kept them from stepping forward, and the old mayor had been more than happy to appoint the prodigal son. Having a police chief with the trusted Finn name in office was a popular decision, he’d claimed. He even had a running joke with the press about not having to change the sign on the door.

Solomon spent the next decade working to prove he was worthy of the opportunity, keeping the peace for the public and his officers the way he always had for his family. Keeping his personal needs to himself.

He’d done such a good job at compartmentalizing, that until he’d come out, the only people who knew about those needs were the strangers he’d picked up at bars outside of town. They never knew his real name or what he did for a living, and when he came back home, he never shared his experiences with any of his family or friends.

He kept the focus off of him and on everyone else so no one knew him. No one had any idea who he really was. Not the whole picture.

Hugo saw you. He knew you and you pushed him away.

Solomon stopped running so abruptly he almost stumbled. He bent over, hands gripping his knees and his heart hammering in his ears. “Shit.”

Just thinking his name brought up a painfully clear image of dimples and warm brown eyes. Memories forced their way through the temporary barriers he’d been placing in his mind all morning.

“Son of a bitch, I take it back,” William wheezed as his booted feet clomped toward him. “I’m humiliated and shamed and sold. I’ll start juicing tomorrow. You juice right? Liquefy innocent baby vegetables and sacrificial virgins for breakfast? That’s why you can run so fast at your age?”

He shot an irritated look at the muscular twenty-four-year old, but secretly he was grateful for the distraction. “Running usually clears my head. I don’t have a lifestyle. Or a juicer.”

Still red-faced, wintry blues eyes looked him over in frank curiosity. “Not working today then? The head clearing?”

“No, but it’s not your fault.” He straightened up and started walking. “One block left to the house. You coming?”

William followed in sheepish silence as Solomon wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt, his mind still on Hugo.

Hugo was the reason he couldn’t sleep. The reason he’d been stirring up his personal ghosts and torturing himself with the past for days.

The man was always in his thoughts, haunting him with might-have-beens. But lately it was getting worse.

Tomorrow is his birthday.

Hugo Wayne was turning thirty-eight, and he would be celebrating another year without him. Thriving without him. Possibly smiling at another man who was lucky enough to catch his eye.

Solomon had been that lucky once. Now he lived on memories of stolen moments. The sound of Hugo’s laugh and the soft, hungry groans he’d make whenever Solomon kissed him. The bright fucking faith in humanity that had him train to be both a healer and protector, excelling at everything he set out to do.

Solomon had been drawn to that and everything else about him since the first time he’d seen him with his brother, James, the year they’d graduated.

As cops, they’d drifted at the edges of each other’s lives for years. Hugo’s muscular six-foot frame, dark skin and intelligent brown eyes were the first things he’d noticed. And that smile. No one could resist responding to his smile or the dimples that made deep grooves in his cheeks.

Solomon thought about those dimples a lot.

Hugo also had a solid reputation in the community. People trusted him. Solomon had been impressed again and again by the passion he’d put into his work, and yes, now and then he’d allowed himself to imagine what else Hugo might be that passionate about.

Once he’d learned that he was gay, Solomon had already been attracted enough that he’d gone into self-preservation mode. He’d started spending more of his down time out of town, resisting his desire for the local man he worked with by hooking up with strangers that he’d never see again.

He might have been thinking about Hugo when he did it, but as long as he kept his physical distance, things wouldn’t get complicated.

Two years ago, it got complicated.

They’d worked together with a few others in his department to develop a weeklong de-escalation training program for the department. Its success and the mayor’s full-throated endorsement gave him the leeway to make some overdue changes.

Solomon knew bad practices were occurring with alarming frequency on a national level, and he refused to let the people under his command fall victim to it. He needed someone who cared and could think outside of the box, and the opportunity was too important to pass up due to his personal attraction, so he’d tasked Officer Wayne to lead a handpicked group to create a more cohesive community outreach program. On his end, he increased department evaluations and required refresher courses on nonviolent protocols and interpersonal skills.

It was a big change, and there’d been initial resistance, little grumbles about extra hours and body cam requirements, but everyone enjoyed the end results along with the trust and gratitude of the community. He was proud of the work they’d done.

He and Hugo made a good team. And the more time they spent together, the harder it became to ignore what was happening between them.

Brainstorming sessions over Chinese takeout led to subtle acknowledgments of mutual attraction. Eye contact that lasted a minute too long, bodies brushing past each other at work and whispered confessions of need that eventually turned into long kisses and desperate caresses in the shadows. It stretched on for more than six months.

He knew they had things to sort out, but when Hugo handed in his letter of resignation without warning, everything in Solomon’s dedicated, regimented world turned to shit.

He couldn’t focus on his work. He wasn’t sure how many days he’d wasted attempting to get Officer Wayne back on the job. People assumed there’d been a work-related incident and Solomon let them, hoping to elicit the sympathy of Hugo’s friends, hoping they’d convince him to return.

He’d been obsessed. Distracted. Not fit for duty.

A few months after resigning himself, he’d tracked Hugo down at the hospital. That was when it finally hit him. He was too late.

Hugo no longer wanted to know how he felt. He’d already moved on.

“This is guilt, Younger. That’s all. Guilt that belongs in the past. I didn’t quit because of us. You were a piece, but you weren’t the whole puzzle. I’m where I’m supposed to be now. I make a difference here doing something I love.”

“You loved what you did before, and you always made a difference, but guilt is not what I’m feeling. I am guilty, but that’s not why I’m here. Damn it, I’m not saying this right. Let’s go someplace private and talk. I need to tell you—”

“You already told me everything I need to know. You made your choice, Chief. You made it over and over again, but I was too stubborn to pay attention. I let whatever this was linger long enough to make me feel foolish. Put my life on hold waiting for… I can’t do this with you. We both deserve better.”

Years spent side by side with a man that made him laugh, made him think and made him hard just by breathing, and he’d lost him for good. All because he’d denied himself in a way no one else in his family would understand. Not his brothers. Not his cousins. They’d all gone after what they wanted and grabbed on to their happiness with both hands.

Solomon had fumbled the ball.

He climbed his porch steps and opened the front door to his house, letting William follow him in. The cell phone on his kitchen counter was ringing, but he made no move to answer it.

“Want to get that?” William shucked off his wool jacket and pulled out his shirt, fanning himself with the fabric.

“No.”

“Go on. I can wait outside if you need privacy.”

“I’m good.” Solomon scowled. “Everyone that matters has their own ringtone.”

William chuckled. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d do on your own. Was it Jake or Brady’s beau that helped you out?”

“Because I’m so old?” It was his cousin’s son, Jake, but there was no way he was admitting to it now.

“Of course,” William agreed swiftly. “Why are you avoiding your phone at all? It could be Publisher’s Clearing House, or your AARP. You’d think an elderly gent with so much free time would jump at the chance for distraction.” It kept ringing. “Oh, maybe someone’s taking a poll.” 

“Keep it up, I dare you. Just remember who runs faster.”

William held up his hands in submission and backed up toward the kitchen. “Trying to show an interest. Forget I said anything.”

“I’ve been getting a few calls from people I knew…before.”

“Old cop buddies?”

“I guess.” Solomon shrugged. “Haven’t felt like grabbing a beer lately. It’s easier not to answer.”

Old friends from the force and current members of city council had been calling. Some said they wanted to talk old times over a beer, some wanted him to handle things he had no control over anymore, but all of them sounded suspect. They were holding something back, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know what it was. Avoidance, not discretion, seemed like the better part of valor.

“I need to take a shower. Unless you want to tell me now why you really stopped by.”

“Right. I’m gonna have a fry up,” William said from the kitchen, pointedly ignoring him.

Solomon climbed the narrow staircase to the sound of his refrigerator being ransacked by his cousin, stripped out of his damp shirt and sweatpants, and headed toward the bathroom.

When the shower sputtered to violent life, he grimaced. He really needed to call someone about the plumbing soon.

This old, mini-Victorian was smaller than most apartments, despite its second level. It was also falling apart, but he’d never been at home enough to worry about it before. Now every creaking floorboard and groaning pipe had come into irritating focus, demanding his attention.

He’d read a few books here and there, watched some YouTube channels Jake had sent him to, and he was slowly but surely fixing the things he could on his own. There was still a lot of work to be done, but he was getting by.

Along with everything else in his life, repairs were needed.

He wished he had another chance to fix the trust he’d broken with Hugo. He wanted to get back to a place where he could do something as simple as talk to him. Take him in his arms and wish him a happy birthday. Kiss him until they both forgot all the shit that came before.

It had been over a year and a half since they’d been together. Longer since he’d allowed himself an anonymous hookup. After Hugo, no one else held any interest. Nothing else came close to the way he made him feel.

He groaned and slid his soap-covered hand down his stomach to brush against his erection. With his dark mood and the nosy imp downstairs, he shouldn’t even think about it. Not to mention the fact that getting off to the memory of a man that had probably moved on to the something better he deserved made him a pathetic jackass.

His cock jerked in his grip and he ground his teeth together, aching for relief. He wanted Hugo’s hands on him. Hugo driving him insane the way only he could. Crazy enough to make him forget where he was, to not care where he was or who might see him.

The way he had the night of Owen’s bachelor party.

“Is this why you volunteered to drive me home before James left?” Hugo laughed, sounding slightly buzzed as he allowed himself to be guided toward the pub’s dark galley kitchen. “You need help with another surprise for your cousin? What’s back here that can top a parade of strippers? A new car?”

“We need privacy.” Solomon’s grip on his elbow tightened when Hugo stopped moving.

“You do know there’s a party going on, right, Chief? Your family, other cops, everyone you know a few feet away from us. Anyone of them could take a wrong turn on the way to the men’s room and—”

Solomon’s kiss put their conversation on pause and they both groaned, melting into each other like chocolate left out in the sun. Months, he thought, his teeth grazing Hugo’s full lower lip. Two months since they’d been alone like this. Since he’d let himself have another teasing taste of heaven.

Pots clanged as he used his body to trap Hugo’s against the nearest stable surface, hands searching greedily beneath his shirt for the silky, toned stomach muscles that contracted on contact. He wanted to lick him there. Trace each ridge and valley with his tongue.

“I thought we weren’t doing this anymore,” Hugo moaned, fingers digging into Solomon’s waist, pulling him closer as the kiss moved from desperate to consuming. “After you drove me home you said we needed to step back.”

He couldn’t forget that night. It played on a constant loop in his head.

“I’m an idiot.” He traced those soft, wet lips with his tongue again and growled. “I was trying not to cross any more lines. One minute we were talking procedure and the next I basically jumped you in the back seat.”

“I wasn’t complaining.”

He’d wrapped his legs around Solomon’s waist and ground their dicks together, kissing him back until they’d both come in their pants like teenagers.

The memory made him hard as stone. “I need you.”

“Do I get to touch you this time?”

Solomon reached impatiently for the buttons of his jeans, the task barely finished before he was gripping Hugo’s wrist to drag his hand inside. “Touch me. I need you to. Need your hands on me.”

Hours of impatient arousal had already brought him to the brink, and now those strong fingers were gripping his bare cock for the first time, nearly setting him off before they got started. “Please.”

“Damn, you’re really hurting, aren’t you?” Hugo rasped against his neck as he started to explore Solomon’s erection. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“You do.” Solomon cupped the back of Hugo’s head and his hips pumped helplessly in his grasp. “Don’t stop. You don’t know…”

“Tell me what I don’t know.”

“I was watching you,” he grated. “Giving your attention to everyone but me.”

Hugo twisted his wrist, stroking him with a skill that had Solomon biting back a shout.

“Chief Finn jealous? I don’t buy it.”

“As hell.” This whole night was pushing his buttons. His cousin was marrying his best friend after realizing he was gay a few months before. And Owen’s father, Sol the Elder’s twin, was proud. It was like glimpsing an alternate reality, one he wished he existed in.

Meanwhile the only man Solomon wanted had stayed on the other side of the bar all damn night.

He swore at the injustice, undoing Hugo’s jeans and swallowing hard when the heavy cock was finally in his hands. Everything but the man in front of him disappeared. The way Hugo made him feel… He wanted him to feel it too. Wanted to take him home and lay him out in his bed. Spend days worshipping every succulent—

“You’re the one keeping secrets.” Hugo said, making him look up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. “And you were so shook up last time, I didn’t expect this to happen again.”

Solomon hated seeing the doubt in his eyes. Knowing he was the cause. He traced his fingers along Hugo’s shaft until he shuddered against him. “Oh that’s… Don’t get me wrong, I wanted it to happen. Not expecting it doesn’t mean I don’t want it. I always want you.”

Solomon kissed him again, inhaling that apples and spice scent that drove him wild. He swore he couldn’t even look at a Red Delicious anymore without getting a hard-on. Everything about Hugo made him hard and hungry.

He was so hungry.

“You think it’s different for me?” Solomon asked against his lips. “That I don’t want this every fucking minute? Everyone in the damn bar was trying to catch your eye and all I could think about was how much I wanted to drag you away and kiss you.”

“I’m here now, Chief. So kiss me again before they realize we’ve gone missing.”

Solomon dropped to his knees. “That’s the plan.”

He opened his mouth over Hugo’s erection without hesitation and reveled in his surprised moan. “Jesus, Younger.”

Yes. This was what he’d wanted all night. The taste of Hugo on his tongue. The smooth, wide head stretching his lips, his mouth full of hot hard flesh. He’d never been this aroused giving head before. But it was Hugo. Everything was different with this man.

“God, seeing you on your knees.” Hugo flexed his fingers against Solomon’s scalp through his buzz cut and laughed raggedly. “You might need to let this grow a little. Give me something to hold onto besides peach fuzz while you’re trying to give me a heart attack. Fuck, Younger, your mouth might kill me.”

Anything. He’d do anything as long Hugo kept calling him that and touching him like a lover. As long as he could have the freedom to do this whenever he got the urge.

He stroked his own cock roughly, using his other hand to cover Hugo’s and press it firmly against the back his head, giving silent permission to use his mouth. To fuck him.

“You’re trying to make me lose it quick, but you don’t know how often I’ve imagined you like this.”

He closed his eyes with a shiver and forced his throat to relax when Hugo started to rock his hips forward, shallow thrusts to see how much Solomon could take. “This is more than a kiss or a dry hump in the back of your SUV, Chief Finn. I won’t come in my pants this time, I’ll come down your throat, so I need to be sure it’s what you want. Is it? You want me to fuck your mouth right here in your family’s homey little Irish bar?”

Solomon looked up, his vision blurring as he nodded. He wanted him. Needed this however and wherever he could get it.

Please.

Hugo sucked on his lips, brown eyes intent before giving in, pumping deeper and forcing Solomon to stretch his mouth wide and take more.

“Too bad there isn’t a party here every night. I guess we could always find other hidden corners. Or I could come to your office early one morning, close the blinds and sit in your chair with my dick primed and ready for your mouth.”

Yes.

“From those moans I’d say you like that idea.” Hugo’s thrusts picked up speed. “Is that your fantasy, Chief? You want to break some rules at work? Be bad for a change?”

He did. God help him, he did.

“If you were too bad I might have to cuff you. Bend you over the table and finally take what I want.” He gasped when Solomon swallowed the head of his cock down his throat. “Oh, fuck, Younger. How can I hold back when you’re sucking me like that?”

He reveled in the rough words, the taste of sex and salt in his mouth. All he could think about was pleasing the man who was fast losing his control, grunting every time he hit the back of Solomon’s throat.

“Again. Fuck, again. Take more. Shit, that’s a dangerous skill for me to know about. Now I’ll want it all the fucking time.” He arched his neck, almost snarling as he visibly fought off his climax. “How did a late bloomer like you get so good at sucking cock?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Moaning instead. “I’m too close. Come with me?”

Solomon stroked his cock faster, groaning in agreement. Together.

“So good,” Hugo said breathlessly. “You’re making me—Fuck, I’m coming! Baby I’m—”

Solomon stifled his cry as his orgasm washed over him, pulling him out of the memory as he stroked himself until there was nothing left, shuddering with the force of his release.

“Damn it, Hugo.”

He leaned his forehead against the tiled wall, catching his breath and letting the lukewarm spray soothe his sensitive skin. It couldn’t take away the ache inside. Nothing ever did.

Temporary release wasn’t enough anymore. Reliving those moments…it wasn’t enough.

Because each time the haze of arousal cleared, it was impossible not to remember how badly things ended that night. How he’d been embarrassed by his desperate, clinging behavior and used a burst of loud laughter from the party as an excuse to step away.

Again.

God, he’d been messed up. Maybe Hugo was right.

“Fuck that.”

He was not his father. Not yet. And Hugo may deserve better, but there was no one who would ever want him more.

He needed to find some way to prove to Hugo that things were different now. That he was different. He couldn’t keep going like this.

Something had to change.

A loud rattling sound had him lifting his head in time to see a shard of tile vibrate off the wall. “What the hell?”

Was it an earthquake? There hadn’t been one since the city was fou—

He reached for the visibly shaking showerhead just in time for a blast of icy, gritty, brown water to hit him directly between the eyes. “Son of a—Shit!”

His hand lifted and he took an instinctive step back, losing his footing with nothing to stop his momentum but a flimsy vinyl shower curtain.

The loud crack when his arm broke his fall had him seeing double.

“Motherfuck—William!”

“Hey, cuz,” he shouted back from the floor beneath him. “I started the dishwasher and now it’s making sounds like it’s possessed. If you’re done with your shower, you should come have a look at it. We might need to call a priest.”

He pounded his head against the floor to distract from the pain in his arm and the desire to throttle the Irishman. “Turn it off because I need a ride. Think you can drive an SUV? On the right side of the road?”

God, he hoped so. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over on the way to the hospital with a shower injury and Wild William Finn behind the wheel.