Page 5 of Grave Beginnings

“Get out of my office, Holt,” the captain groaned.

I threw him a salute, snatched up the book, and jolted from the seat, bursting out of his office. My heart pounded with anxiety. Could this day get any worse?

Spoke too soon.

Brandon Cassidy stepped out of his office beside mine. He and I had been on-again, off-again—more off than on—for the better part of five years. His Hollywood blue eyes and short dark hair, with his built, thick body had drawn me in. He was an asshole on a good day. I’d been lost in those pretty eyes far too often for my sanity. Too bad he was so far in the closet I didn’t think he could find his way out with detailed GPS directions.

Joe and I shared an office, two desks mashed into the center as I spent hours drawing on the whiteboards to solve cases. Anyone who walked in while we were in the middle of the case would think a madman worked here, and maybe they were right. We’d cleaned up a case right before the daycare and had a celebratory lunch, which had led us to hearing the callout. All the boxes and data from any other cases had been removed.Because I was being transferred, or had they given it all to someone else?

I grabbed the box of stuff, a photo of my grandparents on the top, and turned to leave. Cassidy blocked the door.

“Can I help you, Cassidy?” I asked.

“You didn’t tell me.” He glared at my arm. “I had to go get tested.”

“Variance isn’t sexually transmittable, you tool.” Not that we’d touched in nearly six months.

“I mean, your…” He waved at my arm.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your DB kink.”

“Did you just accuse me of…? Nope. Not going there.” I shook my head and shoved the box against his chest to get him to move. “As if you know anything about my kinks, Cassidy. I think the only kink I have that I’m sorely regretting right now is occasionally fucking a bag of dicks. Let me assure you, that won’t happen again. I can get better action from something with rechargeable batteries.”

He backed up, looking around to ensure no one heard.

“Have the day you deserve,” I said as I wove my way out of the office, mentally giving them all the double bird. Joe standing beside my car deflated my ego. “I’m still mad at you.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it by now. It’s like watching one of those fancy-haired chickens strut around waiting to peck. At least I know you don’t bite.”

“Fancy-haired chicken…” I touched my hair. Okay, it was a mess, but not standing up in some crazy display of feathers. I clicked open the car and shoved the box in the back seat. “I’m being moved to SED.” Even saying it felt like a punch in the gut.

“I know.”

I stared at him, heart aching in a lot of unspoken ways.

“I’m retiring,” he said. “Too old to break in another rookie.”

“You love your job. Don’t do this because of me.”

He patted me on the shoulder and opened his car door. “Go home and get some rest.”

“You’re the one retiring. Sounds like you need the rest, old man.”

“In so many ways.” He threw me one of his rare smiles before getting in the car and closing the door. He pointed at a handful of other cops walking by. They bolted up the stairs. “Don’t be a stranger,” he told me.

“Were you protecting my car?” I asked Joe. He shrugged as he backed his car out, and I got into mine after inspecting it for damage. Twice, it had been keyed after some new a-hole found out I was openly gay. The glossy black had been the latest repaint, and lasted almost three years without more than a ding.

I got in and turned over the engine, happy it purred to life, and put my phone on the charger. Three dozen missed calls popped up. Mostly from my grandfather. I sent him a quick text.

Call you when I get home.

You okay?

Did he know I was variant now?

Maybe.