Page 51 of Devil's Hour

“No, I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re notlettingme do anything. Hear me out because I’m not through. This house is too expensive for you, Candi. I know you want to keep it so badly, but you’ll eventually need to make a tough decision if the benefits aren’t paid out soon. You and the kids can start over in an affordable place so you can sleep better. The kids need their mom, and you’re barely hanging on, darlin’. I will help as much as I can, but sometimes you have to accept that what you want isn’t what’s best for you.” Royce pulled his checkbook out of his back pocket and opened it. “This isn’t a loan, Candi Cane. This is me doing what’s right for my family. You’re more family to me than the people who share my DNA.”

“I never would’ve gotten through this without you,” Candi said tearfully. Her hand shook as she accepted the check. “I love you so much.”

Royce pulled her into a hug, allowing her to cry tears of sadness and relief. “I love you too. Don’t you ever forget it.”

They hung out and watched some baseball for a bit before Candi fell asleep on the couch. He woke her up, herded her and the boys up the stairs for bed, then returned to Bailey, who looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Candi kept a basket of books beside the recliner, and Bailey already had her favorites. Royce read them until her eyes grew heavy and finally closed. Instead of taking her straight up to bed, he cradled her against his chest, soaking up her innocence and feeling his eyelids get heavy too. The last thing he thought about before closing his eyes was Sawyer. Lately, Sawyer was always on his mind. This time, Royce imagined what his future with the man could look like if he ever got his head out of his ass. Were marriage and babies in the cards for them? He decided fighting sleep was as futile as resisting the urge to let go and give himself completely to Sawyer.

A catnap wouldn’t hurt him, and the fall wouldn’t kill him, even if it didn’t work out the way he hoped. He might end up a little broken, bruised, and bloody in the end, but he’d still come out a better man than he was before meeting Sawyer. That had to count for a lot. Peacefulness wrapped around him like a blanket, lulling him to sleep.

The minute he walked into Marcus’s house, his heart knew something was wrong, even before he smelled the strong fumes. He lifted his left arm, covering his mouth and nose as best he could, then wrenched open the door to the two-car garage and found Marcus slumped over his steering wheel.

“Marcus!” Royce’s voice bounced around in his head as it echoed in the room. He hit the button to open the garage before running to the driver’s side of the car, gasping and coughing from the exhaust fumes.

Royce grabbed for the handle, but the door was locked. Panicking, Royce looked around for something to bust out the window while fighting off dizziness and nausea. He grabbed the shovel leaning against the back wall and smashed the window with the handle, then reached inside to hit the unlock button. He yanked the door open and shut off the ignition, throwing the space into silence—eerie and foreboding. The only sound was Royce’s racing heart as he pulled Marcus from the car and dragged him out of the garage.

He’d never seen skin so red before, and he started sobbing before confirming there was no pulse. Royce quickly dialed 911 on his cell and then attempted to resuscitate his best friend until the EMTs arrived and took over.

Marcus was gone. Royce had known it the minute he smelled the fumes, but seeing the coroner’s van pulling into the driveway made it real.

“Royce.” It was Sawyer’s compassionate voice. That wasn’t right though. He hadn’t been there.

Royce turned, looking for Sawyer, needing him, but all he saw were the devastated faces on the officers, the other detectives in his unit, and the EMTs on the scene. A heaviness settled over him like a weighted blanket. The world as he knew it was over, and he wanted so badly to fall apart and scream at God or anyone else who’d listen, but he couldn’t. Candi and the kids needed him.

The scene shifted, and there was Sawyer. Golden, good, and sincere Sawyer who made him feel alive again, among many other things, for the first time. Warmth infused him as he stepped into the sunlight and farther away from the icy darkness that had gripped his heart. Then Royce realized it was the afternoon at the precinct when they were escorting Wayne Miller to the county jail. Miller was gloating because of the agony he’d caused DeShaun Benson’s mother after killing her only son. Sawyer had veered away to console her while he continued forward with Wayne, who had started laughing when Mrs. Benson began to sob against Sawyer’s chest. One minute, Royce thought Miller was too evil to live, and the very next, Miller’s head exploded, and a bullet punched through his upper chest and exited out his back.

“Royce.”

Sawyer was there, leaning over him and holding his hand. He was pale and scared Royce was going to die like Vic had. Royce had tried to tell Sawyer he wasn’t leaving him but couldn’t form the words. Then Sawyer fled, and Royce chased, unwilling to give up the best thing to ever happen to him.

Passion and love. So much. Sawyer looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes as he straddled him and sank down on his cock, taking them both to heaven. Sawyer’s rhythm sped up as he chased his climax. He was so beautiful with his head tilted back and eyes closed. Royce could feel the moment Sawyer was ready to come because his ass tightened around his dick. Sawyer dropped his head down, meeting Royce’s gaze. “Vic,” Sawyer said as he came.

Then Royce’s twisted brain started the sequence of events all over again, except this second time around, Sawyer had been the one in the car. Royce screamed and sobbed, just as he had with Marcus, but this time when he pulled Sawyer out into the fresh air and blew oxygen into his lungs, his boyfriend responded where Marcus hadn’t.

“Sawyer, baby,” he said softly. “Hang on. Help is on the way.”

Sawyer reached up and cupped his face and said, “I love you, Vic.”

Royce came out of the dream like a shotgun blast, startling Bailey awake too. “It’s okay, angel,” he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on her back and wishing someone was doing the same for him.

Christ, what a dream.It combined the two most traumatic things to ever happen to Royce, discovering Marcus and getting shot, with his biggest fear—not being able to fill Vic’s shoes. Sawyer wanted him, and he cared deeply for Royce, but he’d been so in love with Vic. If cancer hadn’t interfered, Sawyer would still be with Vic. They’d have a family by now. There probably wouldn’t have been a shakeup at the sheriff’s office, and Sawyer wouldn’t have transferred to SPD. Royce wouldn’t know that beautiful man’s heart, his touch, or his voice, so warm and tender. Tears filled his eyes, and he scrubbed his fist over one, then the other, willing himself to calm down.It was only a dream.

But was it? He couldn’t compete with a ghost. He admired Vic and was grateful to him for loving Sawyer the way he had, but Royce selfishly wanted to be number one in Sawyer’s life. He didn’t want Sawyer to forget about Vic, and he didn’t need Sawyer even to stop loving the man.Just love me too,Royce thought. His heart pounded with the realization of just how badly he wanted Sawyer Key to love him.More than anything.

Bailey went right back to sleep, so Royce carried her upstairs and gently laid her down inside her crib. “Love you, buttercup,” he whispered, smoothing his hand over her downy hair.

He quietly went downstairs, retrieved his keys and phone, and left. Royce drove across town, knowing he wore a ridiculous smile on his face. Sawyer’s house on Wisteria Court in Bakers Crossing was quiet and peaceful, the perfect place to build a life and a family. Royce understood why Sawyer and Vic had chosen it. He parked in front of the garage, then followed the path around to the side of the house where Sawyer had left a light on for him. He stood on the stoop soaking in the magnitude of the moment, recalling his conviction that the fall wouldn’t break him. Royce reached inside his pocket and pulled out the key that had felt like an anchor as he went about his day, navigating through the quagmire of lies, deception, hate, and mistrust. He didn’t mean the heavy hunk of iron that would drown a man, but the kind that kept him tethered to something good in his life and saved him. His heart pounded in his chest when he stuck the key in the door and turned the lock.

Home.Sometime in the past seven weeks, Sawyer’s house had started to feel more like home to Royce than his place did. Or maybe it was the man who felt like home to him.

Royce slipped his shoes off in the laundry room so he could move through the silent house without waking Sawyer, who’d been kind enough to leave soft lights on to help him navigate. He found Bones fast asleep on the kitchen island, where the cat knew damn well he wasn’t allowed. The ferocious beast let out a grumbling sound of irritation when Royce ran his hand over his sleek head, but his grousing quickly turned into a loud purr when he saw who had disturbed his slumber.

“Some guard cat you are,” Royce whispered. “I could’ve carried off the valuables, and you would’ve slept through it.”

Bones stood up, arching his back and stretching his long hindlegs, one at a time.Meow.

“Shhh. You’re going to wake up your dad,” Royce said.