Page 103 of Hush

“Not yet. Right now, it’s diplomatic. But we’re prepping for everything.” He straightened, fixing Tom with a hard stare. “You’re right about one thing, Tom. This is only going to get worse from here. Every day, in every way. Are you ready for this?” He looked from Tom to Mike.

“Yes. Whatever it takes,” Mike answered instantly. “Anything. Everything.”

“It might come to everything.”

Kris, true to his word, left after the next load of laundry. He dressed in his designer threads for the plane ride to Europe—slim tan pants rolled at the ankles, a loose orange top, tan Gucci trench coat, and his shades. He redid his hair, and Tom spotted him touching up his eyeliner and glossing his lips.

He’d never, not in a million years, guess there was tactical gear and blackout fatigues in Kris’s duffel.

Maybe that was the point.

Mike listened to six minutes of CNN before turning it off. Everything was focused on the bombshell from Russia.Proof of CIA Role in Attempted Assassinationscreamed from the shout line beneath the anchors, who argued over their guests trying to make sense of everything.

Tom slowly read through the Russian documents, fighting against the voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him to stop, as Mike typed up his daily report for Winters and then ran back to his place to grab clothes for both of them. They turned in after that, climbing into Kris’s giant bed as Etta Mae snored on the couch. Apparently, butter-soft leather met with her approval.

“Who is he?” Tom picked up the lone picture frame, staring at the harsh Army officer glaring back at him.

“Kris’s husband, David. Before he died.”

“Did he die in the war? Overseas?”

Mike flinched. “Kind of.” He took the photo and set it down. “It’s not a good story. Not tonight.”

“Kris said he wasn’t in the director’s inner circle anymore. He used to be?”

“Yeah. Until David died.”

“Did you know him?”

“No. Kris was already a widower when I met him.”

Tom rolled into Mike’s hold, pressing his face into his neck. Mike stroked his arms, his back. They were naked, but Mike’s touches weren’t sexual. They gave and sought comfort. Tom plastered himself to Mike’s side, slid his thigh between Mike’s. He needed this, arms around him, holding him. A man who wanted to care for him.

“Tom? Whatever happens… I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking by your side. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Tom kissed his neck, right over his pounding pulse.

Chapter 29

July 6th

“Lucciano. Come with me.” Winters stood outside the door to Tom’s chambers when they arrived in the morning. He’d clearly been waiting for them.

Mike shifted his laptop bag and tried to stall. He caught Tom’s gaze, shooting him a slight frown as he turned away from Winters.

“I’ll talk to you later about the plans for the pre-trial hearing tomorrow.” Tom tried to stake his claim on Mike, as if he and Winters were in a game of tug-of-war. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page and everything goes smoothly when Ballard and Renner are here.”

“Yes, Judge Brewer. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

Winters watched silently, his eyes flicking from Tom to Mike and back again. His expression betrayed nothing. Not a hint of emotion crossed his stern face.

Mike followed Winters down to his command office. Winters didn’t say anything, not a single word, until they were shut in. “Have a seat, Inspector Lucciano.”

He clutched his coffee cup and set his laptop bag down, waiting while Winters unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat behind his desk.

“How many days off have you had since full-time protection on Judge Brewer began, Lucciano?”

Shit. “Sir, I’m fine.”