“Were you going to tell me?”
There were a million excuses Sloane could give, all which would placate his partner. But Sloane didn’t want to give an excuse. He wanted honesty between them. “I’m sorry. I understand if you’re pissed. I thought you were trying to keep it from me because you were planning on going after Hogan yourself, and it upset me. I hadn’t figured out much else.”
Dex swallowed hard and didn’t reply. Goddamn it. Sloane realized his initial reaction had been correct.
“No.” He shook his head. “Dex, you can’t.”
“Sloane, the guy almost killed you. We should be the ones bringing him in. What if he leaves the city? How can we live with ourselves knowing he’d still be out there somewhere, waiting to regroup and strike again? We’ve been working this case for months. We know him better than Seb and his team. They’ll be working on Hogan’s profile from Themis, whereas we’ve had experience with that asshole and his crew firsthand.”
Sloane let out a heavy sigh. He should have known it wouldn’t be easy. “You have to learn to walk away, Dex, no matter how much you don’t want to. Sometimes there are more important things at stake than the job. You said so yourself.” It was the reason behind their first real fight, because Dex had put his personal emotions before the job. Under those circumstances, his partner had been right to go against orders. One of their own was in trouble, but this was different.
Dex went pensive before meeting Sloane’s gaze. “Would you walk away? If the roles were reversed?”
“At one point, maybe I wouldn’t have.” He laced his fingers with Dex’s and brought him in close once again before kissing Dex’s hand. “But I’d like to think I’ve found something worth walking away for. Something worth walking toward.” Sloane watched Dex intently, watched the uncertainty and conflict in his eyes. It was hard as hell for any good officer to stand down in the face of a threat, but he needed Dex to understand what was at stake. “Promise me you won’t go after Hogan.” He could almost see the little wheels in Dex’s head spinning furiously. Finally Dex looked up and gave him a nod.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Some things are too important to walk away from.” He lay back down and snuggled close to Sloane. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Dex’s soft admission squeezed at Sloane’s heart.
“I’m glad I’m here too.” Sloane let out a yawn and silently cursed himself. Damn it. Now was not the time for sleep. Something was nagging at him, but he was too groggy to figure out what it was. His head was fuzzy, and his body wanted to give in to the drowsiness. He prayed Dex wasn’t about to do anything stupid. No one was as stubborn as his partner. As much as he wanted to believe Dex would walk away, something told him this wasn’t the end of it.
Sloane forced himself to stay awake a little bit longer so he could watch Dex sleep. He wondered if his partner had managed to get any rest at all over the last few days. Dex would run himself into the ground if Sloane let him. Feeling Dex against him, watching his chest rise and fall, his lips slightly parted, and a peaceful expression on his handsome face brought on a sudden wave of fierce protectiveness, one akin to the kind he experienced when in his Therian form. It startled him.
This wasn’t the first time one of his feral traits managed to make an appearance on his Human side. It was disconcerting. Maybe when he was well enough he’d visit with Dr. Shultzon. There was still so much he didn’t know about himself as a First Gen Therian. Was this sort of thing normal? Had any other First Gens experienced something similar? He’d have to ask Ash the next time he spoke to him. Except for the purring part. If he told Ash he’d literally purred while in his Human form, Ash would laugh his ass off, and Sloane would never hear the end of it.
Feeling his eyelids growing heavy, he held on to his wounded side with his right hand and carefully rolled himself onto his left side, trying his best not to jostle Dex too much. He failed, moving the bed and rousing his partner who opened his sleepy eyes with a smile before he closed them, nuzzled his face against Sloane’s neck, and fell asleep again. Sloane wasn’t far behind. His last hazy thoughts were on how happy he was right here right now and how he hoped nothing would change.
SLOANE WAS disturbed from his deep sleep by something vibrating against his thigh. What the hell? He opened his eyes at the same moment Dex rolled onto his back with a groan. He reached into his pocket, letting out a yawn as he looked at his phone. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Sloane asked, feeling groggy. Damn, he hated meds that made him drowsy. His eyelids felt heavy, and if he closed his eyes, he’d be asleep in seconds.
“I gotta go. I completely forgot I promised to check in with PR about the next meeting.” Dex quickly got off the bed and almost tripped over himself. Regaining his equilibrium, he swiftly came around to Sloane’s side of the bed wi
th an apologetic smile.
“Oh.” Sloane wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. He wanted to believe Dex, but he’d been a THIRDS agent too long not to be suspicious. Plus, Dex was a shitty liar. Sloane also knew his partner. When he’d asked Dex to promise him, Dex hadn’t actually said the words. King of evasive tactics.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. How about on the way home I pick up some dinner for us?”
Sloane nodded. “Call me?” Did he sound needy? Fuck it, he was injured. He was needy. His partner—who had promised to take care of him—should be here with him, especially since he was supposed to be on leave. God, he did sound needy. Screw it. He’d almost been killed. He reserved the right to be a big baby and want his partner to coddle him, God damn it. Wasn’t that what boyfriends did? If they didn’t, they should. His should. It was seriously time for another nap.
“Of course.” Dex gave his lips a kiss and pulled away, but Sloane caught his arm before he could leave.
“Take care.”
“I promise.” Another tender kiss to Sloane’s lips, and Dex was out of the room.
Seconds later, the front door closed downstairs, and Sloane sat on the bed surrounded by silence. His gaze went to the flat screen mounted on the wall and then the fridge. He wanted to be pissed off with Dex, but his partner made it so damn hard. With Dex, there was no questioning motive. His partner needed to protect those closest to him. He needed justice. The question was, at what cost? Would Sloane really have walked away had he been in Dex’s shoes? He wouldn’t have once, no doubt about it, but then he thought of Dex, and now he wasn’t so certain.
Looking around the room, seeing all the evidence of his constant presence, he should have felt restless. Besides Sloane’s unopened suitcase by the armchair, there were plenty more of Sloane’s belongings lying around. A gym bag sat on the carpet by the door. One of his leather jackets was draped across the back of the armchair. In the bathroom was a bag of Sloane’s toiletries and an extra toothbrush. A pair of his pajama bottoms hung from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Hell, he even had an extra uniform hanging inside Dex’s closet, along with an extra pair of steel-toed boots, a cardigan, and some shirts.
The whole thing should have freaked him out, but sitting here on the large bed, he felt… comfortable. Dex’s bedroom no longer felt like someone else’s bedroom. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of all this, and he wondered if any moment the meds would wear off and he’d feel completely different. Fuck this. This was too much thinking for him to be doing right now. He grabbed the remote from his nightstand and turned on the TV, flipping through the cable channels to find a movie or something to distract him and get his mind off his idiot boyfriend. Somewhere between some weird buddy cop movie where one of the detectives was going on about being a peacock or something, Sloane fell asleep. He had no idea how long he was out for or why he’d woken up.
He let out a fierce yawn when he heard something. It was faint, but he heard it clearly. It was coming from the kitchen. Had Dex come back already? What time was it? He checked the time on the TV. A little over an hour since Dex left.
There was another faint thump. Sloane pulled out his phone and speed-dialed Dex’s number. After a couple of rings, it went to voice mail. If Dex had been downstairs, Sloane would have heard the Journey ringtone Dex had set as Sloane’s personal ringtone. Man, his partner was such a nut.
Holding on to his bandaged wound, he used his right hand to open the nightstand drawer. Inside was a small, slim black case with a thumbprint pad. He placed it on his lap and stuck his thumb to the pad. A “click” later, and the case opened to reveal his Glock. He’d picked it up when he sensed someone outside the door. He brought the gun up and aimed it at the intruder stepping right into the line of fire.