Beep. Beep. Beep. Every bone in Jack’s body ached. He felt like he’d been gone over by a steamroller or worse. The lights weren’t helping. Fuck. He wanted to turn away, but it felt like the glow was prying open his lids to crawl inside. When his eyes finally focused he was staring at a bright white ceiling.
Beep. Beep.
A hospital. He was in a hospital. His breath caught in his throat. He tried to roll over on his side and couldn’t. Something was trapping him. His right arm was completely immobile.
It hurt.
Fuck. Pain arced through him, making him buck against the hospital bed. It hurt so damn bad.
Beeeeeeeep.
“Easy.” A hand landed on his left shoulder and pushed him down against the bed. “Easy, Dad. You broke your arm. Take a deep breath.”
Eric. It was Eric.
Jack might want to come apart at the seams, but he wasn’t about to let that happen in front of his son. He drew more air into his lungs. His bare foot kicked out against a crisp sheet. Smoke still clung to his hair, but he’d been stripped down.
“How long have I been here?”
“Mom pulled me out of school a couple of hours ago.”
“Right, and Diesel?” The floor had given out underneath their feet. Letting go had been impossible. Not when it was Diesel falling to the ground. Instead, he’d gone over the side with him, twisting to take most of the damage himself.
And now he had a busted arm.
Freaking genius.
Of course, it’d be worth it if it meant that his lover was safe. “Diesel was with me,” he told Eric. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“Sorry.”
Jack’s gut clenched. He wanted to send Eric out to ask about Diesel, but their relationship was still a secret and he couldn’t ask his son to lie for them. Not when Eric looked like he’d gone through the ringer himself. His hair was sticking straight up. His shirt was a button-down and the buttons were crooked. Really crooked.
“It’s going to be okay,” he promised.
Eric blew out a long breath. “You scared the crap out of us.”
“I can see that. Did your mom make you change before coming here?”
“What?” Eric glanced down and flushed. His fingers moved clumsily, rearranging the small buttons. “I was in gym class when she showed up. We were playing soccer.”
“Were you winning?”
“Coach says I should try out for the team.” Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That thing Mom keeps wanting to talk about—graduating early—you think there’s a soccer team at CUNY?”
“Probably.”
“Think I could play there?”
Probably not. Eric was tall and geeky. In a couple of years he’d be handsome and graceful, but he hadn’t grown into himself yet. Unlikely he’d be able to play sports against men with more years and experience. “You don’t have to go to college early if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Mona tells you any different, let me know. I’ll talk her around.”
“Thanks.” Eric shifted back and forth from foot to foot. His stomach grumbled audibly.
Good. Jack had read a dozen parenting books over the years, they all said not to lie to kids but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Finding Diesel had to be his priority. “My wallet’s probably in a plastic bag somewhere. Take whatever cash is in there and get yourself some food.” He pushed himself a little farther up in bed. His right arm thumped heavily against his side. A removable cast held him in place from his wrist to his elbow.
“You want anything?” Eric asked.
Paternal warmth flared in Jack’s belly. “Coffee.” He held his breath as Eric turned and walked out of the small hospital room.
Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.
Mostly. He mostly stood up.
His bare feet definitely connected with the cold linoleum floor. His back straightened. The muscles in his legs strained.
And then he collapsed back against the bed, breathing hard.
He wasn’t about to let gravity get the better of him. His hands clenched tight—
Pain.
His left hand clenched. His right hand was going to stay open if it killed him.
The floor really was cold. He concentrated on that as he forced himself into a standing position. Two steps to the doorway and he reached for the knob.
Hard wood connected with his fingertips. The door knob had moved. The door was opening. It swung a little farther and Troy walked in. He wasn’t alone. Nico Reese was a few steps behind him. Neither of them looked happy.
Reese was a big man with a red nose and a bushy white mustache. He played Santa Claus every year at the department Christmas party. Now, he raised a caterpillar-like eyebrow. “Are you supposed to be up?”
“No,” Troy said. “He’s not.”
“Fuck you.” Jack dropped onto his bed with a sigh. It felt good to get off his feet, even if he’d been standing for less than a minute. “You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“You’ve been hurt,” Reese said. “I wanted to say hi.”
“Uh-uh, that’s why Troy’s here.” It would be weirder if the lieutenant hadn’t shown up. “You could have sent a damn fruit basket. Now, what the hell are you doing here?”
“He, uh—” Troy cleared his throat and shifted forward on his toes, almost as though he were about to run away. But the man was army through and through. He’d never run from a battle in his life. His back straightened. Impossibly broad shoulders looked like they were growing even wider. He took a deep breath. “They sent an investigator to look at the truck. Somebody definitely fucked with it.”
Shit. Before this the saboteur hadn’t gone after anything bigger than a pair of boots, but when he’d targeted the ladder truck he’d kicked things up a notch.
A knot twisted up inside Jack, but he didn’t let it get in the way of what he had to do. Saving Diesel had to be the priority.
The hospital smelled of old linens and cleanser. Troy was moving back and forth from foot to foot like a kid who’d been caught doing something naughty. The squeak of his shoes was almost enough to overpower the beeping equipment.
Jack kept his focus on Reese. “You here to tell me the good news? I’m fired?”
“The guys at City Hall definitely not happy that you tried to deal with this problem by yourself.” Reese scratched at the open collar of his shirt. “They want me to go through your records, let them know if there’s anything else out of the ordinary. I thought it’d be easier to ask you.”
“And you’re just going to trust whatever I have to say?”
“We’ve worked together for almost thirty years. Your boy used to play soccer against my girls. If you say there’s nothing else going on, I’ll believe you.”
That was something at least. Jack took a deep breath and started filling him in on everything he knew. When he finished his head was spinning and he wanted a glass of water, but it felt good to get it all out.
“You made a judgment call,” Reese said. “It was wrong, but I don’t know if I’d have done anything different.” His eyes were dark and piercing. “Anything else going on at your place that I need to know about?”
“Nothing,” Troy answered for him.
It’d be so damn easy to leave it at that, but Reese wasn’t an idiot. If he started digging he’d figure out the truth sooner rather than later. Fuck it. Jack didn’t want to keep a secret anymore. If it meant losing his retirement then so be it. They could move someplace else, find a job somewhere with a more permissive policy on interdepartmental dating.
“I’m seeing one of my firefighters.”
“Seeing?”
“The terminology’s probably changed since the last time you went on a date. How is Laurie?”
“Pretty as the day I met her.” Reese’s mustache twitched. “This relationship been going on long? Is it serious?”
“A couple of weeks. We’re keeping things casual.”
“Not too bad as long as you’re not giving her special treatment. Your girl got a name?”
“Diesel Evers.”
The sharp intake of breath was audible, even if he couldn’t tell whether it had come from Reese or Troy. Maybe both. Big bushy eyebrows slammed together. Reese’s hands dropped to his side. He took a half step backward. “That’s going to be a problem.”
“Because he’s a man?”
“Doesn’t make a difference to me, but not everyone’s so accepting.” Reese’s eyes flickered. “No one ever tell you not to screw the rookie?”
That earned him a snort. “And he was talking from personal experience. Trust me.” Reese’s head twitched, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look him head-on. Like he knew something and he wasn’t going to say.
Something about Diesel.
He wasn’t the only man in the room. Jack jerked his head to stare Troy down. His lieutenant had faced off against armed insurgents in the Middle East, but shoot an ugly look in his direction and he blushed like a schoolgirl. “Where the fuck is Diesel?” No answer. “Lieutenant, report!”
“Don’t yell at him.” Reese huffed. “You’ve got a good man there. He’s been sticking up for you with the pencil pushers. You had someone else in his position, things could have gone a hell of a lot worse.”
Peachy. “Where is Diesel?”
“The police have him.” Troy finally broke, his words hurried and cracked.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Maybe Jack’s head had hit the ground harder than he thought. “Eric said I was only out for a couple of hours. Why do the police have Diesel?” He needed to find his clothes. Tracking down and retrieving his lover wasn’t going to work if he was bare assed and barefoot. The hospital definitely wouldn’t release him without any pants.
Hell, he didn’t know if they’d release him at all—his arm still hurt and his head was pounding—but they couldn’t stop him from leaving.
“Messing with the truck isn’t something they’re taking lightly,” Reese explained. “The fire investigators called in the police to help find a suspect. They’re looking into everybody’s background. Your boyfriend—” He cleared his throat. “They’ve got a valid line of questioning.”
A valid line of questioning. The lights were back now, blinking and whirring, but this time they weren’t attached to anything. The police thought Diesel was the bad guy. They’d looked into his background. They had evidence. His stomach rolled. He was going to throw up.
“No.” It wasn’t freaking possible. He might have been keeping Diesel at arm’s distance, trying to abide by their bullshit agreement to keep things casual, but that didn’t change the facts or negate the time they’d spent together. Diesel was warm and happy. He was a cozy blanket on a cool summer’s eve. He wasn’t a damn criminal.
He was someone Jack was beginning to see a real future with.
“I need my pants.”
“I’ve checked myself out against medical advice before,” Troy said. “It’s not the best idea. You fractured your arm in two places and you hit your head. You’re going to need another X-ray. Probably a cast.” He shrugged. “I’ll get you the name of my physical therapist. The woman’s a damn genius, but you’re still going to have to put in the work.”
“Some other time.” Jack stood up again. At least this time it didn’t feel like his legs were made out of Jell-O. “I’m not leaving Diesel alone in a box.”
Reese and Troy exchanged sharp looks. Neither of them looked happy. Reese’s cheeks were red, and his mouth was half open in a harsh sneer. Troy just looked like he wanted to tie Jack to the bed. Too damn bad.
“Get out of the way,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was an order. No one moved. His bare feet slapped against the linoleum. “Now.”
“We’ve got a pretty good relationship. I’ve worked for some bastards over the years—this first lieutenant outside of Kandahar was a real fucker—but you’re one of the good guys.” Troy’s boot scuffed across the ground. “If the police picked me up, you might call over and curse a blue streak but you wouldn’t come flying in like air support to save me.”
“Pretty sure you could save yourself.”
“You’re saying Diesel can’t?”
“I’m saying he shouldn’t have to,” Jack said. “Not when he has me.”
The room went quiet. There was a moment’s pause. Reese sighed. “So, not casual?”
“That’s up to him,” Jack said. “Now, are you two going to help me? Or, are you going to stand around nattering like a pair of old women?”
“Alex is in the waiting room,” Troy said. “He can smooth the way with the nurses, get them rolling on your paperwork.”
Reese pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll find out what station the police took Diesel to. I have a contact in the department.”
“If they don’t want to tell you, call one of my guys,” Jack said. “Luke Parsons.”
That got him a hard look and a cold sniff. “They’ll tell me or they’ll regret it.”
Eric was the real MVP. When he got back to the room and realized what was happening, he managed to steal Jack’s clothes back from wherever they’d been stored away. Then he tossed them in the nearest trash can and ran out to get him a clean pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, new tennis shoes, and everything else necessary to make a decent impression. He’d even stripped off his button-down with its crisp red pinstripes and passed it over without a word.
The shirt smelled like teen body spray, but it was good quality and with the cuff unbuttoned it just fit over Jack’s temporary cast. He did up a few buttons and checked himself in the mirror. Neat and tidy, even if he had soot in his hair and a bruise under his right eye.
It took forty minutes for Troy and Alex to get Jack signed out against medical advice, and even then the charge nurse threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t check himself back in within twenty-four hours. In that time Reese tracked Diesel down to a station house near Central Park. “You want me to go with you?”
“Not necessary.” Jack was a captain of the FDNY. If he couldn’t handle a couple of know-nothing cops he didn’t deserve that title.
Reese sighed. “The bigwigs aren’t going to be happy. I don’t know whether you’ll keep your job or not, but if it were my Laurie being questioned by the blues?” He flushed. “I’d take every bit of help I could get.”
“Thanks.”
Time to get Diesel and go home.
God save anyone who tried to get in his way.