Chapter Five
“Thank you for joining us today, Mr. Kendrick.”
Like I had a choice. But Shane smiled graciously at the panel and said, “Of course.”
Wearing a somber black suit, he tried not to shift too much in the hard chair that sat some feet in front of a long table of seven inquisitors. He didn’t know any of them. The two women and five men ranged in ages and ethnicities, and an older black man named Donaldson sat in the middle to lead the questioning. The windowless boardroom in the Secret Service headquarters was wood-paneled.
Donaldson began with a recitation of the facts—as if Shane could ever forget them. Then he asked, “At the rest stop, you proceeded into the restroom alone?”
“Yes.”
“Had you often spent time with Valor alone?”
“I wouldn’t say often. Occasionally. When Agent Pearce was off duty while his son was hospitalized.”
Another man asked, “What transpired between you and Valor inside the restroom?”
“We spoke.” It wasn’t a lie—they had spoken. Shane concentrated on breathing calmly and evenly. Of course they’d ask about more than just the kidnapping and what happened with Alan. This was the first time he’d faced anyone from the Service since he and Rafa had gone public. Not that they’d given any interviews, but they weren’t hiding.
“Nothing of a sexual nature took place between you?”
“No.” Shane would take it to his grave that Rafa had defiantly jerked off in that bathroom stall, furious at his family and tired of always doing the right thing. Besides, it hadn’t technically transpired between them physically, although Rafa had poured out his fantasies, and Shane had fought desperately against storming into the stall and fucking him right there.
“Then you were shot the moment you stepped outside?”
He resisted the urge to touch the scar over his ear. “Yes.”
Then more facts were recited—Alan’s gunshot wound, Shane going after Rafa in the Suburban. An older woman on the panel cleared her throat and asked, “Were your hands tested for gunshot residue?”
His heart skipped. “No. Why would they be? I fired multiple weapons when I confronted the kidnappers.” What the fuck were they getting at?
She watched him for a long moment, then simply said, “Mmm.”
A man asked, “Did you encourage Valor to run away from Castle that day?”
Shane’s pulse kicked up. “Of course not. I tried to stop him from leaving. We both did.”
“Why would Pearce try to stop him? This was his golden opportunity.”
“I don’t know. He was still doing his job. I would have noticed something was off if he hadn’t.”
The older woman said, “Mmm” again, and the sound grated on Shane’s nerves. He fiddled with the laminated guest badge pinned to his lapel.
A man said, “You transferred a very large sum of money to Julianna Pearce earlier this year. Close to a million dollars.”
“Is that a question, or did you access my bank records?” Shane snapped. Shit. Keep it together. He added calmly, “Yes, I did.”
“Where did you get the money?”
“The insurance settlement from the fire that killed my parents.”
“Have you spoken to Alan Pearce since he’s been incarcerated?”
“No.”
Donaldson asked, “Why not? You were good friends, weren’t you?”
“We were, before he betrayed me, our protectee, and our country. I said everything I have to say when I elicited his confession.”
“Mmm,” the older woman said again. “It’s still hard to believe Mr. Pearce acted as he did. Without anyone knowing—even you, his partner.”
Shane breathed in and out, in and out. “Yes. He had me fooled.”
She slipped on a pair of reading glasses and scanned a document as the silence stretched out. Shane resisted the urge to fill it. Finally, she said, “It would have been much easier for Pearce to succeed with your help.”
Rage burned white hot, and Shane bit out, “I had nothing to do with it. I was shot when they took R—Valor.”
One of the men noted, “As was Pearce.”
He wanted to jump up and pace back and forth, but Shane kept very still in his chair, his feet planted firmly, forcing his fingers to unclench. “I had absolutely nothing to do with Alan Pearce’s plan. I would never have done anything to harm my protectee.”
“Because you were sleeping with him?” the younger woman asked.
“No. Because it was my job to protect him. And because what Alan did was wrong. It was criminal. I had no part in it.”
“Yet you still gave his wife money.”
“For her son Dylan’s treatment. Jules has lost her daughter and her husband, even though he’s still alive. He’s doing life. We all know he’ll never get parole. Dylan is all she has left, and he’s just a kid. It wasn’t his fault what happened, or his mother’s. I care about them. I won’t apologize for it.”
After a few beats of silence, Donaldson nodded. “All right. And you care about Valor as well, as it turns out.”
“Yes.” Sweat prickled the back of his neck, and he wanted to loosen his tie. He shouldn’t feel an iota of guilt for loving Rafa. Rafa was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Yet the stares of the inquisitors were like hot pokers on his skin. Because the truth was, he’d crossed boundaries and behaved unprofessionally while Rafa was still in his care. He couldn’t deny that. There was no excuse for it.
Still, he bit back the apology and stayed silent. Just answer their questions directly. Nothing more.
Donaldson asked, “Have you ever entered into a personal relationship with a protectee before?”
“No!” Shane knew he didn’t have the right to be offended, yet it simmered through him, his voice going hoarse with anger. “Never.”
A man asked, “Would you like some water?” He nodded to a table along a sidewall that held pitchers of water, carafes of coffee, a fruit tray, and mini-muffins.
“No.” Shane cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
“When did your inappropriate relationship with Valor begin?”
“The night of the kidnapping. After I recovered him.” It was mostly true. “I put in for a transfer because I knew it couldn’t continue.”
The older woman asked, “What happened between you that night?”
“None of your business.” Shane clenched his jaw and exhaled slowly. “I acknowledge that I broke protocol and it should never have happened.”
“But you don’t regret it,” Donaldson said.
Shane didn’t answer. What could he say? No, he’d never regret falling in love with Rafa. Never.
Donaldson sighed heavily. “The performance reports from your superiors over your entire career were exemplary. Agent Nguyen expressed great surprise when she learned of your relationship with Valor. No one suspected a thing.” He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “No one suspected a thing with Alan Pearce either. You’ve admitted to breaking protocol—to betraying our trust in you as an agent. How can we be sure you’re not lying about your involvement in Pearce’s plan too?”
Heart thumping, Shane could only answer honestly. “Because I love Rafael Castillo. I’d die for him. I’d kill for him—in fact, I have. I would never hurt him. Not only because it was my job to protect him. I understand why you have doubts. I understand why it’s difficult to take my word for it. But I was a damn good agent for seventeen years. I devoted my life to the Service. Then I fell in love. I would never hurt him.”
After a few moments, Donaldson sat back in his chair. “All right. That will be all. Have a safe trip back to Australia.”
Shane nodded and stood, turning to walk to the door behind him. As he reached it, the older woman said, “I hope it was worth it—throwing your life away for an infatuation that can’t last.”
Instead of anger bubbling up, now it was joy as he thought of how empty his life had been outside his job before Rafa. He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “It’s worth every damn minute.”
Outside the boardroom, he closed the door and took a breath. There. It was done. He’d answered their questions and completed his duty, and now—
“Kenny?”
He hadn’t been called that since Alan, and Shane’s stomach plummeted as he turned to find Jules approaching tentatively down the empty hallway. She’d always been a petite woman, but now she looked tiny and brittle, as if he could snap her over his knee like kindling. Her dark hair was swept back in a listless ponytail, and her eyes were puffy.
“Jules. It’s so good to see you.” Actually, it made his chest tight and the echo of hurt over Alan grow louder, vibrating through him like a gong. He opened his arms for a stiff hug, the bones of Jules’s shoulders too sharp as they briefly embraced.
She stepped away. “I heard you were coming back for the inquest after all. I figured it would be my only chance to see you in person. How are things in Australia?”
“Great. I love it down there. I’m surfing again, and I’ll be doing security consulting. Can’t beat the weather. It was sixty-three the other day, and the Aussies were wearing scarves and gloves. I went to the beach.” He was rambling, and he tried to smile.
Jules nodded. “And how’s Rafael?”
“He’s doing very well. Starting at the Cordon Bleu soon. He’s always wanted to be a chef.”
She smiled faintly. “I remember. I’m glad he’s doing what he wants. I’m glad he’s with you. You’re happy?”
“I really am.” Guilt tugged sharply. He’d never been so happy, yet Jules’s life had been decimated. He should have stayed in better touch with her. “How are you? How’s Dylan?”
Hugging her narrow waist, she shook her head. “The experimental treatment hasn’t helped. We came back from Sweden last month. I didn’t… I want him to die at home. With people who love him.”
Fuck. It wasn’t fair. It really, truly wasn’t. “I’m so sorry.”
“All that money you gave me—I’m sorry.” Tears flooded her eyes. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. He turned eight last week, and he was able to eat his favorite rainbow cake with that disgusting bubblegum ice cream. That’s something. And at least I’ll know I did everything possible. I won’t have to wonder. I don’t think I could bear that. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for helping us. So many of our friends stopped calling after the arrest. It’s been…” Her worn face crumpled.
Shane didn’t have any words. He pulled her into a hug, and this time, she collapsed against him, her hands folded against his ribs as he held her. His throat was thick, eyes burning, but he fought back the tears. They wouldn’t help Jules. He murmured, “I’m sorry.”
There was nothing he could do to save Dylan or bring Jessica back, and he hated it. He couldn’t turn back time and stop Alan from making such a stupid, misguided mistake. At least Jules would still have her husband if he could.
Hurt and guilt and fury stewed together in his gut. How had things gone so wrong? Had he been too distracted by Rafa? Would he have realized something was wrong with Al otherwise?
Shane knew he’d never know the answer, but would likely ask himself the question for the rest of his life.
“Kendrick.” Sandra Nguyen’s voice rang out as she approached, her low-heeled shoes ringing on the polished floor. She wore a suit, her dark hair pulled back in its customary bun.
Jules stiffened and pulled away from Shane, swiping at her eyes before turning to face Nguyen. They all nodded awkwardly, and Nguyen asked, “How’s Dylan doing?”
Shaking her head, Jules backed away. “I have to get back to him. I just wanted to… Goodbye, Shane.”
Shane said, “I’ll come to the house tomorrow. My flight’s not until the evening.”
“You don’t have to do that.” More tears tracked down Jules’s flushed cheeks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave her a little smile, and she nodded before fleeing. Shane turned back to his former boss. “Agent Nguyen. How are you?”
She regarded him stonily. “Well. And you?”
“Hoping this inquest will be the end of any lingering suspicion that I had anything to do with the kidnapping plot.”
She frowned. “Should be. As far as I know, it’s accepted that Pearce acted alone. They were probably just shaking the tree one last time to make sure nothing unexpected would fall out. And to give you shit over the embarrassment you brought the Service.”
“Guess I can’t blame them.”
“It was a real pain in our asses, Kendrick. I almost lost my SAIC post because of the crap you pulled. Pearce was bad enough, and then we have to find out about your relationship with Valor in the tabloids? I got an earful, as you can imagine.”
Shane winced. “I can. I’m surprised they didn’t transfer you, to be honest.”
“Me too. And they would have fired your ass in a heartbeat if you hadn’t already resigned.”
“What about Harris?” Rafa’s detail leader had been Shane’s immediate superior.
“Transferred. To the field office in Idaho, even though he’d been asking for California for ages to be close to his family.”
“Idaho. Ouch.”
“He’s lucky it wasn’t Alaska.” She shrugged. “What can you do?”
“Quit like I did?”
That garnered a small smile. “I suppose so. How’s Valor?”
“Rafa’s great. He’s happy. We’re happy.”
She nodded. “Believe it or not, I’m glad to hear it. He was always a good kid, and you were a good agent. Until you weren’t. But I hope it works out.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Well, I just wanted to… I don’t know what, really. Close the loop.” She stuck out her hand, and Shane shook it before she added, “Give Valor my best.”
She strode on down the corridor, and Shane headed for the elevator. In the lobby, he could feel curious gazes on him, whispers that seemed steeped in judgment buzzing through the air. At the security checkpoint by the entrance, he unclipped his visitor badge and returned it to the guards with a nod.
He didn’t look back as he walked away from the Secret Service headquarters for the last time.
The screen door leading to Darnell’s backyard opened with a low, long scrape of metal. Shane closed it behind him as Darnell turned from where he sat on a padded chair on the patio in shorts, his feet up on an ottoman. He’d been facing the sunset, an orange band in the distance over suburban roofs.
With a flash of white teeth, Darnell stood and pulled Shane into a hug. “Hey, man. It’s so good to see you.”
Shane hugged him back, enveloped by Darnell’s big, strong body. Shane wasn’t a small man, but at a muscular six-four, Darnell was huge. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the press of his sun-heated skin was familiar and comforting. Shane gave his back a pat before they parted.
Sighing wearily, Shane plonked down on the chair waiting beside Darnell’s. He’d changed out of his suit into cargo shorts and a tee, and he stretched out his legs to rub his bare feet against the grass.
Wordlessly, Darnell opened the cooler between them and pulled out an ice-cold beer. He popped it into a foam cozy bearing the Baltimore Orioles’ logo and passed it over.
For a few minutes, they drank and watched the sun dip out of sight, the clouds dotting the clear sky reflecting red now. Cicadas buzzed their song of summer, the evening air humid and still. The small lawn had been cut recently, the scent of fresh-shorn grass lingering, along with the bushes of puffy flowers that lined the wooden fence along the back of the yard. Someone nearby had a pool; shrieks of childish laughter and splashing echoed.
Finally, Shane said, “Sorry I missed you last night. And this morning. I slept like a log.” Too exhausted for nightmares, thank God.
Darnell chuckled. “You sure did. But I was home late and gone early. Poked my head into the guest room this morning, but you were still dead to the world. Jet lag’s a bitch.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “Tried to sleep on the plane, but you know how it is. There was a baby behind me who seemed to be wailing every ten minutes. Felt bad for the poor mother. She wasn’t getting any sleep either, that’s for sure. Oh, and thanks for setting the alarm for me.” The clock radio on the bedside table had blared at nine a.m., giving Shane plenty of time to shower and get his shit together before he had to be downtown at noon.
“No prob. Bastards could have given you a day to decompress before you had to go in.”
“They offered, but I need to get back ASAP.”
Darnell sipped his beer. “How’d it go?”
“About as expected. Uncomfortable. Slightly hostile. I get it—I’m an embarrassment to the Service. I broke the rules. No matter how many years Raf and I are together, I’ll still be the Secret Service agent who ran away with the president’s son.”
“Don’t forget cradle robber as well.”
He smirked. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Anytime.” Darnell winked and reached over to give Shane’s shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Still.” He forced out the words, swallowing hard. “It hurts to lose their respect.” He’d tried to stop it gnawing at him on the cab ride back to Darnell’s, but his brain had replayed the meeting on repeat, zeroing in on the most sneering expressions and disapproving questions.
“Course it does. That was your identity most of your adult life: Secret Service agent. Respected. Even feared. If I lost my badge, who would I be? I honestly don’t know.” He was silent a few moments, then asked, “So what about you? Do you miss the job? Who are you, Shane Kendrick?”
Shane drank and pondered it. He was Rafa’s lover. Boyfriend, partner—whatever you wanted to call it. Soon he’d be a security consultant commanding top dollar due to his years of experience. He was a surfer again for the first time in too long.
“I’m… I’m good. All those years of moving wherever the Service sent me, never putting down roots, making the job my life… It was time to let that go. Rafa or not.” He smiled to himself. “I really don’t miss it. I bought art for my walls. Our walls. It was time.”
Darnell nodded. “I think it was. I really do. Like I said before, that boy shook you up and woke you up. And you still want to wake up with him every morning?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Then the Secret Service can kiss your ass.”
Shane laughed. “Yeah. Thanks for putting things in perspective.”
“Dr. Darnell is always in session for you, my friend.”
His smile faded. “Jules Pearce was there today. Came to see me.”
“How was that?”
“Brutal. Her son’s dying. The Swedish treatment didn’t work.”
Darnell blew out an exaggerated breath. “Man. That’s awful.”
“Yeah. And here I am brooding about my poor widdle hurt feelings because the Service was mean to me.”
“Hey, your feelings are still valid. There’s always going to be someone in the world who has it worse. You’re still allowed to feel like shit when you feel like shit.”
“Have you always been this profound?”
“I have, as a matter of fact. I’m glad you finally noticed.”
“I hate that there’s nothing I can do. I’m going to see them tomorrow before I leave. No idea what to say.”
“After everything that went down with Alan, visiting them is probably more than most people have done. You’re showing up. That means something. It would to me, at least.”
“Yeah.” Shane tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t get Jules’s fragile, haunted face out of his mind.
Memories of Alan crowded in as well—his easy, boyish smile back in the day, the hunch of his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes when Dylan had worsened. In the mud, blood seeping too fast from the bullet hole in his chest that was supposed to kill him. “I wonder what it’s like. Prison.”
“You could visit him and ask.”
He shuddered. “I have enough nightmares already.”
“Mmm. About the kidnapping?”
Ugh, he shouldn’t have said anything. “I guess. It’s not a big deal.”
“You talk to anyone about those?”
“Like a shrink?” He scoffed. “Not necessary.”
“Okay. What about Rafa?”
“No, I don’t want to worry him. He has enough stress. It’s stupid anyway.”
“To be traumatized by a traumatic event? Seems reasonable to me.”
Shane rolled his eyes and chugged his beer. He swallowed and said, “I’m not traumatized.”
Darnell re-crossed his legs on the ottoman. “Is Rafa?”
“Well, it was hard for him, obviously. He was kidnapped. He was terrified. But he had some therapy, and he’s doing amazing.” Pride swelled with a warm bloom of affection. “He’s resilient.”
“That’s great.” Darnell was quiet a few moments. “But it wasn’t hard for you too?”
Impatience flared, and Shane breathed through it. “I was doing my job. It’s different.”
“And these nightmares—”
“Are nothing. Gimme a break, okay? Everyone has nightmares sometimes.”
“Of course. We’re all human. Even cops and Secret Service agents. So if the nightmares don’t stop, maybe—”
“They will. You’re making a big deal of nothing.”
“Okay. Sorry, man.”
“It’s fine. All right, enough doom and gloom. I answered their questions, and I’m officially done with the Secret Service. They’re not dragging me back into their problems again.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Darnell took a swig from his bottle. “So why are you flying back down under so quickly? What’s the rush? Is it me?” He lifted his arm and gave his armpit an exaggerated sniff.
“You smell like roses in springtime, as always. No, it’s that Rafa’s stuck down there alone with his parents.” He didn’t mention his fears about him being alone in the house. Rafa wasn’t a kid, and Shane didn’t want to give the impression Rafa was immature or needy. Because he wasn’t—it was Shane who was overprotective.
“Ah, yes, the family visit. The hot swimmer brother went with them, didn’t he? Saw a picture of him getting on a plane with his arm in a sling.”
“Torn rotator cuff.”
Darnell winced. “That’s gotta put a damper on his Olympic aspirations. Still, he’s got two more years before the next Games. I’m sure he’ll be a buffer for Rafa with their folks. Besides, I’m sure Rafa’s been alone with his parents plenty of times. For example, the twenty-one years or so of his life before he met you.”
“Ha-ha.” Shane took a swig of beer. “Point taken. It’s just…” He picked at the top of the damp label, condensation wetting his fingers. “This is the first time he’s seeing them since we got together. Got together officially, I mean.”
“Okay. Dr. Darnell’s still in session. What are you afraid will happen?”
“That they’ll give him shit. Try and convince him to leave me. And no—I don’t think he will. But they’ll try, and I won’t be there to shut it down.”
“To protect him.”
“I’m always going to protect him. Always.”
“I get it. Still, you can’t always be there. He has to fight his own battles.”
Shane drained his bottle, shifting restlessly in his chair. “I know. But I don’t like it. I don’t want him to be hurt or angry or stressed.”
“That’s called love, my friend.” Darnell whistled softly. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Fuck off.” But there was no heat to Shane’s words, and he had to chuckle.
“Still a closed relationship?”
“Yep. Sorry to disappoint.”
Darnell laughed. “All right, all right, don’t get too full of yourself. I wasn’t asking because I want another piece of your admittedly fine ass. Just wondering how that’s going for you. Monogamy.”
“It’s great.” He crossed his ankles, rubbing his heel against the grass. One of Darnell’s neighbors was barbecuing what smelled like sweet and tangy ribs, and his stomach rumbled. “I know it’s still early days, but I have no interest in being with anyone else. We can—” He hesitated. Was this sharing too much?
Darnell waited, twisting the top of another beer and passing it over. Shane exchanged his empty bottle and took a long, cold swallow. Then he said, “Raf was a virgin, and I made sure I was tested. We fuck raw, and man. It’s good. It’s really good.” A thread of desire pulled tight in him at the thought of how hot and perfect Rafa felt when Shane was inside him.
“Ah. Yeah, I can imagine. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager. Never trusted anyone enough over the years.” His laughter rumbled. “I bet that caveman side of you really gets off on being his first and only.”
Shane had to grin. “I can’t deny it.”
Returning his grin, Darnell offered a fist bump, then took another beer for himself. “You hungry? We can order in. Sorry, work’s been crazy, or I would have bought some steaks.”
“No prob. And yeah, pizza? Whatever’s fast and easy.”
“Just like me.” He pulled out his phone and tapped at it, asking Shane for topping preferences before placing the order. As the day faded into night, moon lamps around the yard started glowing. The kids were still splashing in the pool somewhere nearby, faint cries echoing.
Sitting back again with one ankle propped on his opposite knee, Darnell said, “I was always too busy with the job to really think about anything serious.”
After a few moments of silence, Shane asked, “And now?”
Darnell sighed heavily. “Now I’m not so sure.”
“Any particular reason? A particular person, perhaps?” When Darnell shifted and sighed again, Shane said, “Out with it. Who is he?”
“His name’s Henry Chan. Prosecutor. Forty-four, lives here in the Maryland burbs as well. About a twenty-minute drive away. We’ve been working a tough case. Child neglect; the kid died. But I think the mother’s a victim too. It’s all sad and fucked-up. I’ve seen a lot over the years, but something about this one really cuts deep.”
“I’m sorry. And Henry…helps?”
“Yeah. We ended up kissing in his office the other night.” He shook his head. “Shit, it makes my stomach all fluttery to think about it. And that’s all we did—kiss. Talked. Hugged. Now he wants to go to dinner.”
“What do you want?”
“Yeah, dinner would be nice. I mean, I’m getting way ahead of myself even thinking about a serious relationship or monogamy.” He took a swig of beer. “But I haven’t thought much about those things in ages. He makes me want to.”
There was too much light pollution to really see the night sky, but a bright star had emerged, likely a satellite. Shane stared at it as he contemplated. “It sounds like you’re falling for him and it scares the shit out of you.”
“That’s the thing. It doesn’t. It feels weirdly right.” Darnell laughed. “Hell, listen to me. We haven’t even had an official date yet.”
“Sometimes you just know. Although you have to ask the important questions—one in particular.”
“Okay,” Darnell said seriously. “What’s that?”
“Is he an Orioles fan? Because I don’t think you could ever be happy with someone who doesn’t bleed orange and black like you do.”
Darnell grinned. “He’s got a classic Ripken poster framed in his office. Autographed.”
Shane held out his bottle and they clinked them together, waiting for the pizza in easy silence.