“You know, they say it takes patience to listen and skill to pretend to listen. Either he’s lacking in skills or…” He couldn’t help picking at Rowe, still amused the man had switched teams. Though he could easily see why. Noah was the type to lure most men to the dark side with his fit, muscled form and sandy curls down to his chin.
“The man lacks nothing,” Rowe shot back.
Hollis finished his water, set the glass in the sink, and walked to the basement stairs. Faint light showed at the bottom and colder air crept up the stairwell. He frowned. What was Ian doing down there?
Rowe came to stand next to him, lowering his voice. “He doesn’t sleep much. Thinks we don’t know, but there are too many times he shows up with food he could have cooked only during night hours.”
“I’ll go check on him.”
A wry smile pulled up one side of Rowe’s lips. “Thought you might.” He moved to the front door, tossing over his shoulder. “I’m going outside. Be good.”
“Oh, I’m good,” Hollis drawled.
Rowe rolled his eyes then chuckled when the dogs sat up as the door opened. “All right, come on, you mongrels.”
Hollis descended the basement steps, wrapping his arms around his bare waist when the temperature dropped drastically. He should have grabbed a sweatshirt or something first. But he lost that train of thought when he saw Ian sitting wrapped in a blanket on the one piece of furniture down there—a couch that was in better shape than the one upstairs. The only other thing in the room was a rickety-looking plywood worktable.
The bulb overhead put out dim light, but it was enough to see Ian’s expression, obvious worry, pulling his eyebrows together. Ian hadn’t seen or heard him. He sat with the blanket covering him from shoulders down, one hand up so he could rub his temple with his thumb.
Hollis hissed as his bare feet hit the freezing concrete floor. He hurried across the room and sat at the other end of the couch.
“You need a blanket and socks down here,” Ian said quietly. “Though I certainly won’t tell you to put on a shirt.” Brown eyes roamed his body, but Ian’s smile was faint. “Did I wake you when I knocked over the bucket? I didn’t even see it in front of the couch.”
“No, I was in the kitchen. Couldn’t sleep?”
Ian shrugged. “I don’t much. Used to night hours with the restaurant.” He looked down, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “But I’ve got a lot on my mind. I hate that my friends are in danger because of me.”
“Your friends are all badasses. They’ll be fine.”
“But they shouldn’t have to be involved in this. And I know—I know that every one of them can take care of themselves, but it’s my fault they’re in this mess. Don’t think I’m not aware that we came all the way out here to keep me safe. It’s going to drive Rowe and Noah nuts being stuck out here.”
Hollis shifted on the couch. “From what I heard, you defended yourself pretty well.” He ran one finger along the fingerprints on Ian’s neck that showed over the blanket, then softly touched the bruise shading his cheek. The anger he felt every time he looked at the discolorations marring Ian’s skin made him ache with the need to retaliate. “But just so you know, I’d probably have to turn in my badge if I ever found a way to get that guy alone.”
He was rewarded with Ian shuffling a bit closer. He had to close his hands into fists to keep from hauling the man into his lap. With their height difference, he’d fit perfectly—Hollis knew it. The sudden need to know exactly how he’d fit hit him hard.
“I thought about trying to talk to Jagger,” Ian confessed.
Every muscle in Hollis’s body froze.
“With everything that’s happened,” Ian continued, “he’s never gone after me personally. But something changed. The man who did this?” He pointed to his neck. “He was trying to kill me and I don’t know why. I pissed him off when I fought back, so I thought maybe I’d pushed him into reacting, but Jagger’s men know better than to break his rules. The more I think about it, the more I’m realizing he was taking me to disappear. Permanently.”
Hollis’s stomach turned over, and he clenched his hands harder in his lap to keep from hauling Ian there. “He knew we were coming before the raid because he’d at least doubled the amount of guns. But I don’t know why that would have made him come after you. Not unless he thinks you know something that will make things worse.”
“You mean take down his last hidden source of income? Kids.” Ian shuddered. “But Jagger could have had me killed at any point in the last nine years. Now doesn’t make sense.”