Page 34 of Pretty Poison
“I’d been awake for a while.”
“Oh my God. Why didn’t you shove me off you?”
Asher briefly averted his gaze to stare down at his feet. When their eyes met again, the earnest expression in his husband’s eyes made Rocky regret he’d asked. Asher took a deep breath. “You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
The response sounded right, but it didn’t match the intense emotion in Asher’s gaze. It seemed as if they were both dancing around the elephant in the room instead of acknowledging its presence. Instead of pressing the issue further, Rocky nodded and repeated his conversation with Queen Bea, which entertained Asher.
“Do you like your new team?” he asked while setting the table.
“A lot,” Asher replied. “They’ve all worked together for a long time, and it shows. I worried they wouldn’t welcome an outsider, but other than some Yankee jokes, the guys have made me feel right at home.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Rocky said.
Once the food was ready, they sat together at the small table. Asher unfolded the newspaper and checked out the headlines. “You can tell a lot about a city by looking at their newspaper.”
“What does ours tell you?”
Asher smiled. “You people are eclectic.”
“Understatement of the century,” Rocky replied.
Asher glanced at his watch, then began shoveling fluffy eggs into his mouth while he continued perusing the paper. “Ouch,” he said a moment later. “Your friend Felix hits hard.”
Rocky wasn’t sure what Felix’s recent story was about since they hadn’t had much time to talk lately. Even though he’d just seen his best friends the previous day, the interview had taken up most of their time together. Rocky suddenly remembered their parting words and the plans to meet for breakfast at seven. Fuck. He might’ve forgotten all about it if Asher hadn’t mentioned the article. His lack of sleep was catching up to him. Right now, he was forgetting little things, but if he didn’t get a handle on his problem, those small blunders would multiply and could turn into life-altering mistakes.
Unaware of Rocky’s inner turmoil, Asher continued talking. “I’m not sure it’s a great idea to antagonize the governor when you’re hoping for a posthumous pardon.”
That got Rocky’s attention. “What?”
Asher pushed the paper across the table to him. There in bold, black print was proof of Felix throwing down a verbal gauntlet. The headline read: “Questions Remain about Governor Stanton’s Mob Connections.”
“What kind of vetting process does Felix go through before he publishes articles like this?” Asher asked.
Rocky stared at the newspaper until his vision blurred. He’d only read the first few sentences, but it was enough to make him feel like his lungs had turned to lead. Or was it stone? Something brittle and dry and on the verge of crumbling to dust.
“Ford?”
Asher’s voice brought him back from the brink of panic. He blinked, bringing the room back into focus. “Huh?”
“I asked if you trust Felix’s decisions to go public with these types of allegations.”
It sounded like such a simple question, but everything about Felix Franklin was complicated. He was both the most honorable and the most infuriating man Rocky had ever known. Even so, there was only one person Rocky trusted more than Felix and Jonah, and that man was waiting for an answer.
“I may disapprove of his methods, but I trust his motives. If Felix says there’s a connection between the governor and Jack Mercy, then you can believe it exists.” Rocky smiled wryly. “Felix was the one who figured out Spencer was about to shed his identity and disappear, after all.”
Reminding Asher that the three of them messed up his mission might not have been the wisest choice, but it illustrated how smart Felix was. “Point made,” Asher said wryly.
He shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth while Rocky abandoned his plate to read Felix’s article. Each sentence evoked both pride and fear. Felix was brilliant, but this kind of hit piece could bring a lot of unwanted attention to Felix and everyone close to him. Rocky had survived one media shitstorm; he wasn’t sure he could last through another.
“Gotta go,” Asher said, rising to his feet. “Dandridge will be here any minute.” He walked his plate to the sink, then glanced over at Rocky. “I’d put my plate in the dishwasher, but it’s full.”
Rocky rolled his eyes. “Why is Dandridge picking you up? Doesn’t the branch here provide their deputies with vehicles?” Rocky knew for a fact that the deputies got to choose their rides from the vehicles the USMS confiscated.
Asher grimaced. “Slim pickings. My car will arrive from Vegas in a few weeks.”
“You hired someone to drive it here?” The car was his pride and joy. Rocky shuddered to think about the vetting process Asher would put them through.
“Enclosed hauler,” Asher said as he rinsed his plate.