Burden (6 page)

“It’s okay, Stan. Really. I’m n-not bothered by it.” Hell he couldn’t even picture half the men he used to work with. If any of them ever came to see him, he’d more than likely embarrass himself—as if the stuttering wasn’t enough—by not having any clue who they were.

“You think you’ll come back someday?”

A tight knot formed in his throat. “No.” It had taken him awhile to be able to say that without panicking, but the truth was, he was so far from being an officer now that going back seemed impossible. He certainly wouldn’t pass any of the physical or mental exams needed. Not when most days he got lost going to the same fucking coffee shop and ordering the same fucking drink. Stan didn’t know how bad things really were though, and Brennan wasn’t about to enlighten him.

One thing he did know was he was tired of having this conversation. Stan could ask a million times. Brennan didn’t have the answers Stan so desperately wanted to hear.

He was getting to the point he didn’t care what had happened that day anymore. He just wanted to move on.

Chapter Six

Keegan took a circuitous path, and the trip that should have taken fifteen minutes took him much longer. He wasn’t willing to put Brennan in the line of fire any more than he already was as a witness. One little whisper was all it would take for word to get out that the shooter had been seen.

Maybe he ought to take Brennan into protective custody.

The feeling of being watched earlier had dissipated. Nothing suspicious made his gut react. He glanced in the mirror again. He’d been paying more attention out the back window than the front one. It was a miracle he hadn’t hit something.

Only when he was positive he wasn’t being tailed did he head back to Kingston Falls to stop in front of the mansion where Brennan lived.

He’d been right. The old oaks shaded the yard to perfection. The whole damn thing looked like it belonged in the Deep South rather than in the heart of Colorado. Today there was a car parked in the drive, a Ford Taurus that screamed,
I’m an unmarked police car.

What the hell? It wasn’t one of his precinct’s vehicles. Something to do with yesterday? A friend? Someone closer?

“IA, Keegan. The man was a cop too. An unmarked car in his drive on a Saturday does not a lover make.”

Keegan got out and retrieved the books from the backseat. He eyed the car and swallowed back the shot of jealousy suddenly running through him.

Movement in one of the windows above the garage drew his attention. Rather than leave and return later like he’d said he would last night, Keegan marched right up the steps and knocked on the door. Only one way to satisfy his curiosity.

The hard knock on the door surprised Brennan. His aunt usually rapped twice and came right in. She didn’t seem to get the whole privacy issue.

“You gonna get that, Brennan?” Stan stood, stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked pointedly at the door.

“I-I don’t get people.”

“Well, you do today, buddy. Better answer it.”

“Right.” Brennan froze. He was supposed to do something, but what?

“I’ll get it.” Stan opened the door, and standing on the other side, eyeing Stan with suspicion, was Keegan.

Brennan breathed a sigh of relief and wondered at the sudden lifting of an anxiety he wasn’t aware he’d been harboring from his shoulders.

“Can I help you?” Stan asked, his tone tinged with animosity Brennan wasn’t used to from his partner.

“I’m looking for Brennan.” Keegan’s response wasn’t any less surly.

“Well, you found him.” Stiff with a protective air, Stan turned to Brennan. “A friend of yours?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Brennan could only nod. His throat had dried completely, and any type of speech seemed impossible.

“I brought the pictures, Brennan.” Keegan didn’t take his eyes from Stan.

“Pictures?” Stan wanted to know.

“Mug shots.”

This got Stan’s attention. “Mug shots? What the hell, Brennan? What’s going on?”

Finally Brennan got his voice back. Seeing Keegan again after they’d shared that kiss had thrown him for a loop. Especially when it wasn’t time for him to be here yet. “I th-thought you were coming later.”

Keegan shrugged and stepped into the apartment, practically shoving Stan out of the way. “Decided to bring them to you.”

“Brennan?” Stan shut the door.

“I w-would have come.”

“Oh, I know you would have.” Those dimples appeared on Keegan’s cheeks, and Brennan’s cock hardened on the spot with the double entendre.

“Brennan, tell me what the hell is going on.” Stan’s hands were on his hips. “Who is this guy?”

“Oh. S-sorry. Stan, this is Keegan. A d-detective. Keegan, my old partner, Stan.”

“What are the mug shots for?”

“I s-saw a shooter yesterday.”

“What?” Stan nearly leapt on Brennan. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, Brennan?”

“I didn’t think of it.”

Stan made a growling sound. “You witnessed a shooting and didn’t think of it?”

“Hey, back off.” Keegan put himself between Brennan and Stan. “Things were a little off kilter yesterday. It doesn’t surprise me that he didn’t mention it.”

“Off kilter how?” Stan’s eyebrows lowered ominously. “We’re trying to keep Brennan’s life simple, and you somehow get him involved in a shooting. What were you doing at the time, Brennan?”

“Buying a Chilly thing.” What else could Brennan say? That had been what he’d been doing.

Stan looked at him like he was crazy. “What?”

“Michael’s idea of learning m-money.”

“Oh yeah. I remember you saying that. So, what, someone robbed the coffee shop?”

“No. Someone took a potshot at
me
.” Keegan dropped his files on the table. “Brennan just happened to be there. Fortunate for me though, because he saved my life.”

“That’s where you got the split lip and road rash then.” Stan’s gaze never wavered from Brennan’s.

Brennan touched his lip again. He’d forgotten about it since Stan had first mentioned it. In fact, it hadn’t bothered him at all, not even when Keegan had kissed him. The sexual adrenaline must have taken over.

“Yes.”

“Damn, buddy. You’re supposed to be taking it easy. Recuperating. Not dodging bullets.”

“I d-didn’t dodge them.” Brennan stabbed his thumb toward Keegan. “I shoved him out of the way.”

Stan finally acknowledged Keegan. “This isn’t what he needs, Detective.”

“Wrong place, wrong time. I won’t say I’m sorry though, since his instincts did save my life.”

“Instincts?” Stan acted as though he didn’t believe Keegan.

“Yes. He reacted without hesitation.”

“I’m glad they’re coming back, then.”

“What do you mean?” Keegan stood so close to him, Brennan could smell the man’s aftershave. Keegan crossed his arms over his chest, causing the muscles to bunch.

Was it wrong to want him so much?

“I’m guessing he’s told you he doesn’t remember anything from the accident. The doctors were hopeful his memory would return. It’s been more than a year, and he’s only recovered very small bits and pieces. It’s nice something like instincts are showing up. I’d like to think at some point it’ll all come back.”

“Oh, you mean like what he remembered in the car with me?”

“He remembered something with you? Must have been something you said. Either way, I’m happy for him.”

Brennan felt like a spectator at a tennis match with the whole back-and-forth between his old partner and Keegan. “Him is standing here being d-discussed like he isn’t h-here.”

“Right.” Stan semi-smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll be going then. Looks like you have some pictures to go through.” He faced Keegan. “Keep my partner safe.”

“Will do.”

“I’m not five.” And Brennan was damn tired of being treated like he was.

Keegan turned his back on Stan, a wicked grin on his face. “Trust me, I’m aware of your age, Bren.”

Stan cleared his throat. “I don’t know when I’ll get back up here, Brennan. Give me a call sometime this week and we’ll talk. I want to know everything. Even the littlest memory might blow the whole thing wide open.”

“I will.” Because despite thinking he didn’t care, always in the back of his mind, Brennan wanted to know what the hell had happened on that mountainside.

Stan grabbed Brennan’s elbow at the doorway and leaned closer. “How much do you know about this guy, Brennan?”

“Not much,” Brennan conceded. In truth, he knew next to nothing except the man had been shot at. He wasn’t even sure the reason he’d been targeted.

“I’m worried about you.”

“You always are.”

“Maybe I should come stay for a while.”

“And b-babysit me?” Brennan pulled free of Stan’s hold. “No.”

“Problem?” Keegan’s warm presence behind Brennan’s back reassured him in a way nothing had in the past year.

“No.” Stan kept his gaze on Brennan. “Be careful, will ya?”

Brennan nodded, afraid his retort that his friend should stop suffocating him would get screwed up with his stuttering. Stan had been the only friend who had stuck with him through the entire ordeal. None of what had happened before or after was his fault, and he was only trying to help.

Brennan ought to be grateful, not judgmental.

Chapter Seven

The second Stan stepped through the door, Keegan released a breath. He didn’t like Brennan’s old partner. Whether it was because Stan was close to Brennan or something else, he didn’t know.

“So you brought the b-books?”

“No. I brought the file from the case I just worked. I’ve been undercover for a long time. It can only have something to do with that. You ready?”

Brennan nodded, but the look on his face said not really. Keegan opened the folder, spreading the numerous pictures of Carlos’s men and women on the coffee table in front of a sage-colored suede couch. And then he noticed something missing.

“Where are they?” He turned in a circle, searching for the little beasts.

“Who?” Brennan picked up the first picture and sat, hardly paying attention to Keegan.

“Those monster ankle biters.”

“Oh.” Brennan waved him off. “In their box. N-napping.”

“Right.” He’d be prepared for them to attack nonetheless. Keegan sat next to Brennan, probably crowding the man, but decided he didn’t care too much. He wanted Brennan to get used to him, and he had a feeling if left up to Brennan, they’d never get anywhere.

Somewhere between the time he’d arrived and meeting Stan, Keegan had definitely decided he wanted them to go somewhere.

“This isn’t going to get us anywh-where.” Brennan flipped through page after page, dismissing the faces almost too quickly.

“How about a sketch artist? I could get her to come here where you’re more comfortable.”

Brennan shook his head. “No. I’m telling you I d-didn’t see him well enough. Why was someone shooting at you anyway?” He turned his face toward Keegan, and they were only inches apart. Brennan swallowed as his gaze went south from Keegan’s eyes to his lips. They parted ever so slightly.

Keegan’s heart pounded. Unable to resist, he leaned in the scant few inches and touched his mouth to Brennan’s, triumphant when Brennan didn’t flinch or retract. Instead, the former IA detective met him with an open mouth. Their lips melded together, their tongues tangled in a mesh of wet heat. Keegan tilted his head and wrapped his fingers around Brennan’s neck to hold him in place. His dick throbbed beneath his zipper, and it was all he could do not to unzip and palm himself.

That would scare the shit right out of Brennan.

Half afraid Brennan would back off, Keegan kept still, engaging their mouths only and keeping a loose hold on the back of Brennan’s head. Shock hit him when Brennan’s hand settled at Keegan’s waist. The next thing he knew, Brennan yanked Keegan’s shirt from the waistband, and long fingers tickled his hipbone.

Keegan tore his mouth free. “Fuck this.” He laid Brennan back and settled between his legs, their cocks rubbing together.

“Mmm…” Brennan made an irresistible sound of want and clawed at Keegan’s shirt to draw the material up and over Keegan’s head. Nails scored his back and then came around front to scrape lightly at his nipples. “Fucking sounds good to me.”

Keegan nearly shot off in his pants. He lifted Brennan and tore off his shirt too so they were skin to skin. Brennan’s chest showed signs of his accidents, long scratch-like scars down his right side. Keegan picked a spot just below Brennan’s right nipple, and moving south toward his hip, he licked the silvery damaged skin. Brennan arched beneath him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I wasn’t going to go this fast.” Keegan panted as he kissed his way back to Brennan’s nipple before sucking it hard into his mouth.

Brennan groaned, his pelvis and cock grinding into Keegan’s. “I like fast.”

“I can see that. And here I thought you were some shy, pretty boy.”

“Not shy—” Brennan’s words got cut off when Keegan palmed the other man’s cock through the denim. “Demoralized,” Brennan choked out when he could breathe once more.

“Let me just say right now, I don’t care what problems you have.”

Brennan raised his hips again and hummed with pleasure. “’Kay.”

“I’m going to suck you now, Bren.”

“Uh-huh.”

Keegan chuckled as he worked the button fly of Brennan’s jeans, slowly revealing his lover’s length. “Commando? I may have to arrest you for indecent exposure.” Suddenly the image of handcuffing Brennan to his bed and keeping him spread-eagle while Keegan did what he pleased to the slighter man had Keegan drooling.

“’S your fault indecent.” Brennan shoved Keegan’s hands away and wiggled, as best he could with Keegan on top of him, out of his jeans.

The man was beautiful. His hipbones protruded a bit too much, his ribs played like a washboard down his chest, and what Keegan suspected was once a six-pack was now smooth flesh across his abdomen. Too skinny, like Keegan had thought earlier, but gorgeous nonetheless. And he meant to kiss and lick his way over every inch of skin.

First though, the flesh standing proudly between his legs, curving slightly to the left and toward his belly. Keegan swept his tongue from the base to the tip in a slow, leisurely lick, paying particular attention to the bundle of nerves just under the head of Brennan’s impressive length and the slit where he tasted the pearly, salty precome.