Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Where will we dance?” Hop asked. “Terry said the club would be closed.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find us a place,” Tam said. “Right now we need to focus on Lirim.”
“Since his arrest wasn’t their endgame there’s a chance we can get him off. Even if we can’t, he wasn’t holding much and it’s his first offense. There’s still hope.”
For Lirim, maybe. For Z and Connelly? That was an entirely different disaster, and he didn’t think there was anything that could repair the damage.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” Raoul asked. “Marie’s making fried chicken and cornbread.”
Connelly looked up from the paper he’d been pretending to read for the past ten minutes. The envelope it had been delivered in had Detective Connelly Reid scrawled in familiar, sharply looped handwriting. It was an HIV test. Nothing else, just that, as if Azariah couldn’t even stand to write him a scathing note. The test was enough, the message received loud and clear. It said, Happy now, motherfucker? I didn’t kill you. Now you can fuck off for good.
It was Friday, and they still hadn’t found Keller. The case would be fine without him, but that hanging thread irritated him. But, considering how obsessed he’d been about the case before, now he had zero investment. He’d done his best and none of it had mattered. Everything had still fallen apart.
Captain Bell had grudgingly congratulated them but even that hadn’t cheered Connelly up.
Raoul must have picked up on his distress. “Listen, Con, maybe it’s for the best, you know? Sometimes we’re attracted to people who are all wrong for us, maybe that’s what you had with Azariah.”
He looked up at his best friend. “Yeah, maybe.” The agreement made his stomach clench in revolt.
“I’ve been telling you, you need a stable and independent partner. A man tough enough to stand up to you and deal with your crazy family.”
With only half a mind tuned into the conversation Connelly said, “True.” His imagination conjured up a family brunch complete with his mother’s famous lasagna, the boys playing superheroes—and Azariah.
Even with his heels and makeup, Azariah didn’t seem out of place. The hazy daydream made the empty place in Connelly’s chest feel like a cavernous black pit. His quick wit was more than adequate to deal with anything Connelly’s family could dish out. He was strong enough to stand up to him. Hell, he’d wrestled Connelly with an injured ankle. He had faced his fears and was willing to open his heart. He’d worked so hard to handle everything that happened to him without once thinking he couldn’t—until Connelly had made him feel weak.
He shook his head to clear the ghosts out of his brain. The truth was, he’d never know if he and Azariah could have made it work. He’d never know if what he felt was real because he’d screwed up. He’d treated Azariah the same way he’d treated all his past boyfriends.
He hadn’t trusted him.
“You’ll move on eventually,” Raoul continued. “In the meantime, dinner at ours. We’ll tell you all about our baby plans and you can concentrate on how much you’re going to spoil your godchild when she finally arrives. Deal?”
Swallowing the bitter sting of his partner’s offhand words, Connelly nodded. “Deal,” he said, but he knew nothing would distract him for long.
Somehow, Azariah had grown roots inside him like an old oak tree and nothing, not even time, would take those roots away. Because of them, Connelly would be carrying around this emptiness for the rest of his life.
A piece of him was glad of it. At least he’d have those roots to remember everything he could have had.
Everything he’d lost.
* * *
“Babe, can you check the potatoes while you’re in there?” Ansel asked Fitch.
“And grab me another soda?” Z asked.
“Anything else?”
Ansel smiled. “Thanks, love you.”
Fitch shook his head but his adoration for Ansel shone in his eyes and made the part of Z that had started to long for such silly things feel desolate and jealous. Once the big man disappeared inside, he turned to Ansel.
“You guys are kind of sickening,” he said.
“I know, right?” Ansel’s laugh was bright and full of life.
“You’re proud of that aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
Z understood. Having a solid relationship probably felt like the victory no one ever thought he’d win. “It suits you.”
“What?”
Z lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and stared out at Ansel and Fitch’s backyard. It was Sunday and that meant dinner at Ansel’s. Tonight they were barbecuing and the scent of grilled chicken and sweet sauce wafted on the breeze. The rest of the gang would arrive in a few minutes but Z had come early so he could soak up the peaceful atmosphere and relax in Ansel and Fitch’s company.
“This,” Z said with a nod to the patio where they sat, the grill, the lawn, even the roses. “All of it.”