Page 18

Chapter seventeen

A Safe Place to Land

The morning came with a bump.

And a loud slam shaking the house, rattling through the walls and straight into Aaron’s bones. He snapped his eyes open, heart already racing before his mind caught up. Kenny’s arms, still wrapped around him, were warm, solid, and the steady rhythm of his breathing brushed Aaron’s shoulder. The world outside their bed had erupted into movement, but here, in Kenny’s arms, it was still. Suspended.

Until Fraser’s unmistakable footsteps thundered across the hall, his bedroom door bursting open, and heavy feet pounded down the stairs. Then voices. Low, urgent, muffled through the walls.

Aaron shoved upright, breaking from Kenny’s embrace. He scrubbed a hand over his face as Kenny stirred, blinking blearily up at him, disoriented but already assessing. Aaron reached for his clothes, scrambling to shove on the first things he found. Kenny’s joggers, an old uni sweatshirt draped over the chair. University of Ryston, 2005 . The fabric worn, soft, the lettering faded, and as he yanked it over his head, a thought hit him like a cold slap. Kenny had graduated the same year Aaron was born .

He shoved the thought aside, hopping on one foot to pull on the borrowed jogging bottoms.

“Where are you going?” Kenny’s voice was husky with sleep and exhaustion that came after a night spent holding someone too tightly, afraid they might slip through their fingers.

“Jack’s home,” Aaron said, urgency thrumming in his chest like a live wire.

“And you’re expecting a briefing from him at…” Kenny rolled onto his back, swiping at the bedside table, searching for his phone.

Aaron glanced at his new watch. “It’s six-thirty. And yes. Fuck yes.”

He didn’t wait for Kenny’s response, just stumbled over paint cans and decorating supplies, catching himself on the doorframe before wrenching it open and barrelling down the stairs.

But as he reached the kitchen, he stopped dead.

Jack had his back to him, but his body said everything his face didn’t.

Fraser had wrapped him up. Completely, totally enclosed him in those massive arms of his, holding him firm and unyielding with Jack burying his face in Fraser’s chest, into the thick fuzz of ginger hair, and Fraser simply rocked him, side to side, silent. No words. Just held him. For a second, a memory struck. That scene from that film. What’s it called? The one with all the monsters? Monsters Inc. Where the big, blue, furry monster hugged the tiny little girl, wrapping her up in his brutal safety. And in that moment, Aaron understood .

He totally got why Jack might need what he needed. Why he might want to shrink down, let himself be small after carrying monsters on his back every day. If he’d spent hours— days —out there in the field, tracking killers, making impossible calls, being the pillar of authority and control, then this?

It must be fucking heaven .

To collapse into someone else’s arms and just… let it all go .

Fraser didn’t ask him to talk. Didn’t try to fix it. He just held him the way only he could. As if he knew, from the very second Jack had stepped through that door, that was exactly what he needed. Aaron was intruding on that. He’d just stepped into something sacred. Something not meant to be witnessed. Certainly not by him.

Shit .

Maybe he should go.

Then soft lips pressed to the shell of his ear from behind and Aaron inhaled, the world narrowing down to the warmth smoothing against his back. Kenny . Slipping his arms around Aaron’s waist, drawing him back to his bare chest, holding him there, Kenny whispered into his ear. “Give them a minute.”

So he did.

He leaned back into Kenny, allowing himself that security too. The quiet reassurance of being held. Being kept . Kenny ghosted his lips along his neck, planting leisurely kisses, a silent grounding, his breath warm. But Aaron knew, without a doubt, that Kenny’s gaze would be fixed on Jack and Fraser, watching the subtle shifts in their embrace, reading the unspoken between them like a book he’d once memorised.

For a fleeting moment, jealousy surged.

The thought of Kenny having once known Jack that way, that intimately and entirely, twisted inside him. But it passed just as quickly as it had come, because this was different. Because Kenny was kissing him .

Nuzzling into him.

Holding him.

In love with him .

Across the room, Fraser blinked his eyes open. He gave Jack a subtle nudge, and Jack hesitated, then turned in Fraser’s arms, but neither of them moved apart. Either Jack refused to let go, or Fraser simply wouldn’t allow it. Those solid arms draped around him, holding him tight.

It was strange, really. Or maybe it should have been.

Two couples, standing there wrapped up in each other in different ways. Kenny behind Aaron, arms looped around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder to keep him grounded and pliant, while Jack stared at his ex while still enveloped in his husband’s unwavering grip.

And yet, it wasn’t strange at all.

Not when there were far bigger things to be broken over.

Jack scrubbed a hand down his face. “Hey.” His voice was rough, the exhaustion dripping through. “Sleep okay?”

Kenny lifted his chin from Aaron’s shoulder. “Yeah. Fine. Considering. Thanks for the room. How are you?”

Jack scoffed. “Exhausted.” He motioned toward the door. “I went to your place. Forensics will finish by this afternoon. So I picked you up some clothes. Whatever Aaron had on the floor. Shoes, too. His bag. Figured you wouldn’t want to be walking back to campus in that.”

Aaron frowned before glancing down, suddenly aware of the fabric stretched across his chest. University of Ryston, 2005. Kenny’s graduation shirt.

“He not given you a drawer yet?”

“Don’t need a drawer when I can just toss my shit on the floor.”

Jack tutted. “How things have changed.” He turned back to Kenny. “Wasn’t sure if you needed a suit for work, but I picked up the one you had wrapped in dry cleaning plastic, anyway. It’s hanging up on the living room door.”

Kenny blinked. “Uh… thanks.”

“He’s been fired,” Aaron cut in.

“ What ?” Jack frowned. “Since when?”

“Not fired. Compassionate leave.”

“ Ordered compassionate leave,” Aaron corrected. “But mostly because they know about me.”

Kenny sighed, removing his arms from around Aaron as Jack’s stare hardened with quiet understanding. After a tense beat, Jack let out a long, knowing breath.

“I suppose it was going to come out anyway, right?” He twisted toward Fraser. “Could we get some coffees, please, bear?”

Fraser peeled away to make them, but never fully. He kept his hand on Jack’s back, steady, ever-present, like he knew that if he let go, Jack might just collapse. Aaron cocked his head at the pet name. Bear . Yeah. That made total sense. He was a big, fuzzy ginger bear. And for a moment, Aaron wondered what Jack might have called Kenny when they were together. Then he recalled what they’d spoke about last night and decided he didn’t want to go there.

Kenny tapped Aaron, a silent nudge, and Aaron took the cue, stepping fully into the kitchen while Kenny followed, leaning against the counter. Aaron hopped onto a stool at the breakfast bar, watching Jack as he took up position near the opposite counter, one ankle crossed over the other.

“What’s the latest?” Kenny asked.

Jack exhaled. “Well, we haven’t caught her.”

Aaron stiffened. “Did you not trace Taylor’s phone?”

Jack’s jaw ticked. “Yes. Once we got permission to do so.” He ran a hand over his temple, rubbing at the tension there. “Not everything in the real world works as fast as you see in the movies.”

Fraser set down a mug in front of Aaron.

Aaron grimaced. “Sorry, mate. You got tea?”

Fraser went off to boil the kettle.

“We traced the phone to a location by the river.” Jack took a coffee mug from Fraser and Fraser kissed him as he did so, then handed one to Kenny with less fondling.

“The river?” Kenny questioned as he took a sip of coffee.

“Yes. The memorial.” Jack closed his eyes as he savoured his caffeine.

“Rahul’s?” Aaron clenched his jaw.

“I would hazard a guess she’s taunting us. Or, either of you.” Jack pointed to them both. “She’s not covering her tracks. We’ve got CCTV footage of her near the scene, looking right at it. Officers are collecting doorbell camera footage this morning. She wants us to know it’s her.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she’s fucking bonkers .”

Kenny’s eyes held his and for a moment, Aaron thought he might correct him. Might offer the insight of an actual diagnosis rather than his flippant slur. And there was a part of Aaron that felt bad. Deep down. When he thought back to that girl being repeatedly hit and degraded. Once, she would have been innocent. Not everyone was born to be evil. Mostly, they were made. And Aaron waited for Kenny to remind him of that.

But he didn’t.

Progress? Or was that the chilling realisation that some people were beyond saving? Hadn’t Dr Pryce said that?

“The phone’s with forensics now.” Jack moved past the tension with practiced ease. “They’ll run a full extraction. Messages. Call logs. GPS history. Best-case scenario, we pull a connection to another number. Worst case, we get nothing, but even then, with that and the doorbell footage we might be able to figure out how she got inside.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “No signs of forced entry.”

“He was holding viewings for a new housemate.”

Jack exhaled sharply. “Right. Which means she could’ve used that as an opportunity to gain access. And if I had to put money on it, Chong’s tox screen will come back positive. Would explain why he didn’t fight back. Why he was compliant enough to be… restrained.”

“By a woman, yeah.” Aaron closed his eyes, trying to block out the images. “I’ll bet he was roofied.” He then peered up at Jack in afterthought. “If he’s still got those photos of me on his phone, can you get them deleted?”

Fraser slid a cup of tea to him, and he wrapped his hands around it.

“I didn’t consent to him taking them and asked him to delete, but…well, I doubt he did. Was expecting revenge porn at some point.”

Jack exchanged a look with Kenny and Aaron noted the tick in Kenny’s jaw, so thought it was best to move on.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

“Now…I get at least two hours’ shut eye. In my bed. With my husband. Then I’m back at the station figuring out how the fuck this woman ended up here, doing this, in my fucking town.”

Fraser squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m on that one.” Kenny straightened. “Thanks for the suit. I will go into work.”

“What?” Aaron turned to him. “Why?”

“To talk to Dr Pryce.”

“Who’s Dr Pryce?” Jack asked.

“She was the lead clinical psychiatrist at Ravenholm. Where Child A was sent on remand. She would have signed her release. Directly responsible for assessing, diagnosing, and deciding the course of treatment for Child A. That means she was the one who determined whether she was still a risk. Whether she had ‘rehabilitated’ enough to be released into the world.”

Aaron sat rigid, heart pounding.

“You think she could be involved in this?” Jack knitted his brows together, arms crossed. “I had officers pull what records they could, but as you can imagine, with protected status, we’re running into every wall possible. She’s a category one protected witness, which means everything’s buried under judicial orders. We’re talking national security-level clearance. Even if I could get a sniff at her file, I’d have to justify it up the chain, and that’s assuming the Home Office would even consider it. And I don’t think they will. Because all the intel we have is based on information extracted under hypnosis.”

Kenny shifted uncomfortably.

Jack’s gaze flicked to him. “A highly questionable hypnosis.”

Aaron snorted. “So red tape actually works then?”

Jack and Kenny both turned to him.

Aaron shrugged. “Funny. Doesn’t feel like it does when you’re in it. Feels like anyone with half a brain can waltz right through. Might as well have a neon sign on my head saying, witness fucking protection .”

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not foolproof. Especially not for kids. They can move you, give you a new name, lock your files down, but they can’t stop human error. A slip-up by social services, a misplaced record, even just being spotted by the wrong person. It only takes one crack.”

Kenny inhaled sharply. Aaron knew all about that and he wished he could have protected him from it all. But he addressed Jack’s question instead.

“I don’t know if Pryce is involved yet. But there’s something missing here. You think they just let people like her walk free without layers of psychological profiling? No. It would’ve taken months, years of assessments, behavioural analysis, controlled reintegration programs. And yet somehow, despite all that, she’s here. Doing what she’s doing. How anyone could not have predicted that would be a fucking major oversight. Ineptitude or…something more sinister.” Kenny scrubbed a hand down his face. “And I’m not buying any coincidence that she suddenly stumbled on us in Barcelona, then ended up taking a job at Ryston, taking on third-year research projects, Aaron’s project, then I get refused the professorship—”

Jack stiffened. “You what ?”

“Temporary.” Kenny dismissed him with shake of his head. “Reapply next year. But right now, that’s the least of my concerns. I want answers and she’ll be giving them to me.”

“Leave it to us. I’ll call that in. Get my DS to go talk to her.”

“So she can spin you a web of well-rehearsed lies? No.” Kenny’s voice dripped with certainty. “You need me on this. Someone who can see through her distortions before she even finishes a sentence. I need on her first. If I go in with an officer, she’ll clam up. Deflect. Even lawyer up. You’ll lose valuable time. If I go, I’ll get the evidence. Enough for you to haul her in if she’s involved.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think she’ll tell you anything?”

Kenny exhaled. Aaron knew that look. Dr Kenneth Lyons was already three steps ahead of everyone else in this room.

“Two reasons.” He held up a hand, counting them off. “One—she’ll lie. And I’ll know she’s lying. More importantly, she’ll know that I know she’s lying. That alone changes the dynamic. Puts her on edge. Makes her second-guess her approach and forces her to recalibrate her game in real time.” He dropped his first finger, moving to the second. “And two—she’ll tell me the truth. Not because she has to. Because she wants me to know it.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “Why the hell does she want that? If, as you say, she’s involved in this?”

“Because if this is what I think it is, then people like her don’t just want control over a situation. They want to be recognised . They want their intelligence seen . And to her, I’m not just some detective with a clipboard.” His eyes sharpened. Darkened . And Aaron hung on every word, hovering his tea at his lips. “I’m a worthy audience.”

Aaron lifted his mug, aiming for a sip, but the hot liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling down his top. “Fuck!”

The conversation halted. Every head turned as he yanked at the fabric, fanning it away from his skin to stop the scalding burn from seeping through. He froze mid-motion, glancing up straight at Kenny. That look . Dark. Intense. Sultry in a way that made Aaron’s stomach drop and twist all at once. Heat burned across his cheeks, and not from the tea.

“Sorry, totally inappropriate, I know, but you’re so fucking hot when you talk like that.”

Kenny didn’t respond. Didn’t need to. He just took a measured sip of his coffee, gaze never wavering from Aaron. And suddenly, the only thing Aaron wanted in the entire world was for them to be anywhere but here . Because if they weren’t in someone else’s house, his shirt would already be off, and he’d be launching himself at Kenny, legs clamping around his waist before he even had the chance to put his coffee down.

A phone rang, ripping through the air and Jack groaned, yanking his mobile from his pocket and answering with a clipped, “DI Bentley. Go.”

Kenny set his coffee down. “Drink up,” he told Aaron. “Get changed. We’re off.”

Aaron tossed back the rest of his tea, scalding his tongue in the process, then slammed the mug onto the counter. “Where are we going?”

“Campus. Your room, where you’ll pack your stuff. Then you go to your lecture, and I go talk to Dr Pryce.”

Aaron blinked. “You want me to go to my lecture ?”

“Yes.”

Aaron threw his hands up. “Fuck me. Not even murder gets me a day off?” He dumped his hands on his hips. “Shouldn’t you be worried about my safety?”

Kenny’s gaze flicked toward Jack, still mid-call, pacing as he rubbed his forehead. But the moment Jack ended the call, Kenny pounced.

“You’ve got police on him, right?”

Jack exhaled, irritation evident. “One officer spare. That’s it. Arson attack in Wilton’s got half my team tied up, plus we’ve got two forensics teams working Taylor’s scene and running down leads on Child A.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s all fucking go right now. I want two officers on you. Both of you. But I just can’t spare it.”

Kenny nodded. “One will do.” He turned back to Aaron, gesturing toward the door. “No excuses for skipping class.”

Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms. “Swear to God, you need to get your priorities straight.”

Kenny kissed him. “I have. And it’s you .”

Aaron froze. Just for a second.

Then he curved his lips into a smile. One that came from way down deep. A smile he’d thought he wasn’t capable of anymore. Certainly not now, with another dead body in the mix and a psychopath taunting him through a phone call.

But a smile was there, nonetheless.

And judging by how Jack and Fraser suddenly became very focused on their coffees, Aaron was pretty sure they both saw the cartoon-sized hearts practically pumping out of his chest.

Because honestly?

He was just the entire fucking spectrum of in love with this man.