Shane stalked out of the municipal building that housed the Stratton Police Department and aimed for the small attached parking lot, blind to everything except escape. For over an hour he’d kept a tight grip on his emotions, and now he was overrun by the most humiliating experience of his life.

Noel had shown up with about sixty seconds to spare. He’d sat quietly while Shane gave a statement to Officer Mustache—Shane hadn’t bothered to remember his name, or look at his name tag—who typed it all into the computer with the interest of a guy transcribing medical reports. And he’d sat silently while Officer Mustache started questioning Shane.

“The original report states the name of the stripper was Shane Joseph. Your name is Jody McShane.”

Had the idiot never heard of a stage name?

Not even the worst.

Shane found his car, then promptly dropped his keys. He glared at them.

“How long have you been a private stripper?”

“Have you ever been solicited at a party?”

“Have you ever implied you were interested in receiving money in exchange for sex at one of these parties?”

Shane had answered honestly, all the while cursing Noel in his head for putting him through this bullshit. He’d come to make a complaint, and as soon as the other cop heard the word stripper, Shane became the suspect. And Shane wanted to punch Noel in the throat for not stopping the interrogation. It fucking hurt.

And then Officer Mustache asked the mother of all questions.

“Have you ever taken money from someone in exchange for sex?”

Shane had looked the cop in the face and lied to law enforcement. “No.”

Maybe the only money he’d taken in exchange for sex came from Chet Green, but in the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, he could be arrested for prostitution for doing so. Circumstances be damned.

I am never telling Noel about that. He’ll turn me in, the bastard.

“Shane, wait.”

Shane snatched his keys up and jammed them into the lock. Turned it hard. A hand came down on his shoulder. Shane didn’t think, he just shoved. Noel stumbled into the car beside his.

“I can’t do this with you right now,” Shane said to his car window. He couldn’t even look Noel in the face.

“I know you’re mad—”

“Mad?” He pivoted, heat flushing his cheeks and throat. “I left mad three stops back. I am fucking humiliated right now, Noel.”

Noel was upset, that much was clear. “Look, he had to ask those questions. It’s procedure.”

“Really? It’s procedure to make someone who’s reporting an assault feel like they’re the criminal? To make sure I didn’t ask for it, or entice her? If this is what happens for unwanted groping, I’d fucking hate to know what an actual rape victim goes through in there.”

Noel jerked like he’d been slapped. “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m done. Go away.” Shane yanked his car door open and threw himself into the driver’s seat.

“Wait.” Noel grabbed the top of his door.

A flash of rage overtook his shame. “I told you I can’t do this right now, so what the actual fuck do you want from me?”

“Don’t shut me out, babe. We need to talk about this.”

“No we don’t. I can’t talk to you right now, because all I want to do is hit you.”

“So hit me. You’re pissed, and I get it. Take it out on me, just don’t push me away.”

“You pushed yourself away.” Shane gave a terrific tug and got the door out of Noel’s hand. It shut with a slam, and he hit the lock.

He didn’t look at Noel again as he drove away. His humiliation melted into numbness, and that turned into instinct. He stopped for a twelve-pack of Budweiser, then went home. Flopped down on the couch and downed two without really thinking about it, or the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything in at last twelve hours. Not until his stomach rolled unpleasantly. He silenced it with a third beer.

I can’t believe he put me through that. Can’t believe he broke my confidence.

And it would probably happen again. Noel couldn’t put aside his cop rules and just be his boyfriend. Couldn’t take a shameful secret and help him deal. No, he had to put Shane through ridiculously mean questions by a cop who practically sneered down his nose the whole time at “the stripper”.

For a while, Shane had believed in them. He’d believed they could maybe make a go of things, have a real relationship once he officially quit porn. Now?

Impossible. If he ever finds out about the porn, he’ll probably sic detectives on me. And what about the lie Jason and I told? No.

Halfway through his fourth beer—he knew that because the empties were in a pretty line on the coffee table—the front door opened. Jason walked in and stopped. Stared.

“What are you doing here?” Shane asked. He wasn’t drunk enough to have lost the whole afternoon and it be five thirty already.

“Why are you getting hammered in the middle of a Monday? What happened?”

“I think I have to break up with Noel.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “What? Why?” Then back down into a suspicious slant. “What did he do to you?”

God, I love my brother.

Shane tried to sit up and give Jason room to sit on the sofa. All he really managed was to hang his feet off the side, kind of at a decline. Jason sat, facing him, ready to jump straight to his defense like always. And since the beer was damaging his brain-to-mouth filter, he told Jason about the party, getting drugged, telling Noel and the entire degrading ordeal at the station.

“Son of a bitch,” Jason said when Shane finished with buying the beer. “I can’t believe he did that to you.”

“I can. He’s a cop. Should’ve known better than to tell him. Won’t tell him anything ever again. No more cops.”

“I get that you’re pissed off but do you really want to dump Noel over this? I’ve never seen you so happy as you’ve been these last two weeks.” His face scrunched. “Well, mostly happy.”

“Mostly?”

“Sometimes when you come home from your, um, other job, you’re really down. Upset. But Noel makes you smile, Jo.”

“He also makes me so fucking furious sometimes.”

“That’s part of being in a relationship, bud.”

“How would you know?”

Jason flinched.

Lay off, drunk brain, you’re not mad at Jason.

“Sorry.” Shane chugged the rest of the beer, then contemplated a fifth. He was nicely numb. He couldn’t get too sloppy with Jason around, or no telling what would come out of his mouth.

“You’re right, though. I’ve never had a real relationship either. But I know enough to know that you don’t end things in a fit of anger without talking about it.”

“Tired of talking about it.”

“I didn’t mean today. Take some time to cool off. Give yourself space from it.”

“Oh I plan to, trust me.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Do you work today?”

“No.”

“Good. I’m confiscating your car keys too, if you plan on drinking yourself stupid.”

“Whatever. Why are you home anyway?”

Jason shrugged. “Phil sent me home.”

“Slow day?”

No answer. Even half a sheet in the wind—he had a ways to go to get three sheets—Shane knew that wasn’t normal. Jason didn’t hide stuff unless it was serious stuff. Shane hauled himself into a sitting position, and maybe he was drunker than he thought because everything tilted for a second.

“What’s wrong?” Shane asked.

“The ICD shocked me today.”

Cold fear slithered through Shane’s gut. “It what? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It just…I started feeling really lousy, kind of lightheaded, and then the damned thing jolted me. Felt like a static shock, only in my chest instead of my finger.”

“Jesus, Jason, are you in pain? Did you have a heart attack again?”

“I’m not in pain, and no, it wasn’t a heart attack. Dr. Bailey said the ICD detects arrhythmias and corrects them.”

“Have you called Dr. Bailey?”

“I have an appointment for tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” Shane resisted the urge to throw his arms around his brother and hug him. He wasn’t ten years old, though. And drowning himself in beer didn’t feel like fun anymore. “Want to watch a movie?”

Jason stared like he’d spoken Chinese, then smiled. “Sure. I’ll make popcorn.”

Best brother ever.

* * *

By the time he got off shift on Wednesday morning, Noel had gone from remorseful and worried to downright frustrated. He had left messages on Shane’s cell, sent texts begging him to talk. He wouldn’t stoop to stalking him at Mineo’s, but he hadn’t ruled out driving over to the trailer and forcing the issue.

Noel had taken plenty of ribbing from his coworkers about his stripper boyfriend, and it was getting old fast. He couldn’t even say with certainty that he still had a boyfriend, because he hadn’t spoken to Shane in two days. The thundercloud stuck with him as he walked into the locker room to change.

The second watch had already gone out, leaving only him, Benedict, Corey Paxton and his partner Jim Willis buzzing around. Corey pointedly ignored him, and Noel kissed their weekly workout routine goodbye. He hadn’t said a thing last Saturday, nothing out of the ordinary. He’d find an excuse by this Saturday for sure.

Noel spun the combination lock, a mix of his and Tristan’s birthdates. Popped open the locker door. For an instant, the interior blurred out of focus. His stomach flipped. He blinked hard.

Someone had hung a mobile of open condoms, glittery streamers and several men’s G-strings inside of his locker.

“Goddammit.”

“What’s up?” Benedict asked.

“Some asshole broke into my locker.”

He appeared at Noel’s shoulder, took a peek, then started laughing.

“Yeah, this is fucking hilarious.” Noel yanked the mobile out and threw it on the floor, too disgusted to bother with the trash can. Instinctively he searched for his wallet and car keys. Both were where he’d left them.

“Oh, come on, kid, you don’t think they’d take your stuff, do you?” Jim Willis asked. He was in his early thirties, so the “kid” comment grated.

“I didn’t think anyone here would break into my personal locker, but that happened,” Noel retorted. They hadn’t stolen anything or really vandalized the locker, but they had put a big crack in his sense of security. Someone had invaded his privacy.

Noel changed quickly, done with that place for the day. He took five minutes to report it to the desk sergeant, because damn it, he wouldn’t put up with that shit at work. Not where he was supposed to be able to trust his fellow officers.

Instead of going home and straight to bed, he headed into Dixie’s Cup.

“No book with you today, Officer?” Steph asked. She was wiping down a table near the front.

“No, just stopping in for a few minutes,” Noel replied.

His favorite booth was occupied, so he grabbed a stool at the counter. Steph came over with a mug of coffee and saucer of creamers. He stared at the specials on the menu board without really seeing the words.

“Why the sourpuss?” Dixie asked as she plopped onto the stool next to him. “Long night?”

“Something like that.”

“Try the banana pancakes. They’ll make you right as rain again.”

Noel wanted to live in a world where banana pancakes fixed his relationship woes and made him less suspicious of the motives of others. “Sounds good.”

“Joe, banana cakes for our friend here.”

“On it, Dixie,” Old Joe said without turning away from the flattop. He had quite a spread going for the mostly full diner, but he moved between items with fluid ease.

“So what’s got you down in the dumps?” Dixie asked. Clearly not a good reader of body language, because Noel didn’t want company.

Or maybe he did. He’d come here instead of his room to sleep, which was out of his usual routine. “It’s not been the best week.”

“Yeah, little birdies are tweeting things at me.” Dixie patted the top of his hand. “Welcome to the family, honey.”

He let himself look at her and was rewarded with the kind of warm, sympathetic smile that didn’t seem patronizing or pitying. So more than just the force was discussing his sexuality. Great. He wasn’t surprised, though, because places like Dixie’s Cup were breeding grounds for small town gossip.

“So is it man trouble?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You have a fight?”

“Kind of. He’s ignoring me instead of us talking it out.”

“Ouch. Not the cutie you were with last week? The McShane kid?”

“Yeah.”

“My condolences. He seemed like a keeper.”

Noel sighed. “I thought so too.”

“Listen, you wanna get out of those dumps, you come on over to my Fourth of July party on Friday. Starts at three, but come whenever. If nothing else for the free food. We’ll have tons.”

“Thanks for the invitation, Dixie.” He didn’t know if he’d accept but the thoughtfulness was overwhelming. Did she mother everyone like that?

“Sure, sure.”

Old Joe delivered a plate of piping-hot pancakes with a few pieces of sliced bananas on the side. Noel reached for the syrup, grateful when Dixie slipped away to chat up another customer. He ate in silence, attention on his food, while life went on around him. The pancakes didn’t fix anything, but they tasted damned good, and he made sure to compliment Old Joe before he left.

The chat with Dixie had lightened his mood a bit, and with his stomach full of both carbs and coffee, he wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon. It was still early enough that he could take a run without passing out from the heat. He trotted upstairs.

In the middle of the hall, next to his door, a man sat cross-legged against the wall. A familiar man, but not the one he wanted to see.

Jason met his gaze. “We need to talk.”

Scary words from someone’s big brother. Noel didn’t argue the statement. Jason stood up while Noel unlocked the door. Noel plunked down in a chair. Jason stayed standing, arms crossed.

“Does Shane know you’re here?”

“No,” Jason said. “I would have called but I don’t have your number, and Jo is good at hiding his phone.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not here to rattle your cage or give you shit about Monday. I just need to make sure you understand something about Jo and the way he thinks.”

Translation: You hurt him worse than you think you did, and here’s why.

“Fire away,” Noel said, as curious as he was annoyed.

“He told you about our stepfather, right?”

“Yes.”

“Thom used to tell Jody that it was their secret. Every time Thom molested him was because he loved him, and to keep it their special secret. So when Jody told me about it, he was sharing a secret. The end result was Thom dead and the cops coming to take me away from him. It shattered him. He learned to keep secrets because telling got him hurt. He kept so many secrets that he tried to kill himself when it got to be too much, and then that incident became its own secret because it landed us in so much debt. The simple fact that he has shared so many secrets with you in such a short time means something, because he doesn’t trust people easily. Especially not with those parts of himself.”

Noel’s heart twisted. Shane had exposed so many painful parts of himself, from Thom’s death to his own suicide attempt. And Noel had shared right back, laying it all out there because he cared. He wanted Shane in his life, and he’d gone and put his job first. He’d gutted the trust Shane had in him.

“Did you know about him being drugged at that party?” Noel asked.

“No. He told me on Monday after you put him through hell.”

His stomach soured. “He told me something that you didn’t know?”

Jason nodded.

“Shit.”

“Exactly. Now do you see why you dragging him down to the police station hurt him so much? Forget the humiliation of being asked if you’ve ever taken money for sex. Imagine the only reason you’re in that horrible situation is because the guy who says he cares about you, and who you trusted with something very personal, put you there.”

On the surface, Noel had understood why Shane was so upset. Yes, the interview had been painful to watch, and Shane’s comments about real rape victims had hurt. He’d gone against Shane’s wishes to keep it between them, and he saw it from Shane’s point of view for the first time. Shane had shared a secret he hadn’t even confessed to his brother, and Noel had taken that secret to the police.

Procedure or not, preventative measures against future crimes or not, Noel had been an asshole.

“I really hurt him, didn’t I?” Noel asked.

“Yes, you did. The good news is Jo is not an unreasonable human being. The logical side of his brain understands why he had to report the incident. It’s the emotional side that’s having trouble getting over it.”

“I betrayed his trust. What if he can’t forgive me for that?”

“Then he doesn’t forgive you.”

Noel wasn’t sure he could stand that.

“I’m not saying you do or don’t deserve his forgiveness,” Jason said. “Honestly, I’d like to deck you for what you did to him, but that’s not my call. Jo was happy with you. I’ve never seen him so relaxed and smiling, and he’s hardly said a word to me since Monday. He’s angry and he’s depressed, and I don’t like that. You need to talk to him.”

“I’ve been trying!” Frustration made that come out too loudly. “I call and text, and he ignores me.”

“He’s home right now. He doesn’t work at the deli until one o’clock.”

“You want me to go over to your place?”

“Yes.”

“What if he slams the door in my face?”

Jason shrugged. “Not my problem. You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“Thank you.”

“Like I said, I still want to deck you.”

Jason left without hitting him, for which Noel was grateful. Even if he would’ve deserved it. Hell, he’d deserve it if Shane punched him for showing up unannounced on his front door.

Like Jason said, he wouldn’t know unless he tried.