Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The doors of the elevator slid open, and he was stunned to find himself looking into the face of someone he knew very intimately. Shane freaking Stephens. A very old friend from school and before Snow, the occasional fuck buddy.
“Shane?”
The private detective smirked at him. “Just the person I was coming to find.”
Jude quickly stepped through the doors before they could close and threw his arms around Shane. His friend hugged him back tightly and whispered his sympathy in his ear. But while the warm affection was welcome, Jude could feel it breaking down the wall he’d built to hold all his emotions back.
Pushing out of Shane’s arms, Jude stepped away and shoved a stiff smile on his lips. “How did you find out?”
“Rowe. I stopped by Ward Security this morning to drop off lunch for Quinn, and Rowe caught me. He told me since he knows we’re close.” The lighter expression that appeared on Shane’s face every time he spoke of his boyfriend disappeared almost as quickly as it formed, and he glared at Jude. “But I figured with something like this, you would have called me personally. We are still friends. I care about you and your family.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Jude countered, his tone growing sharp. “I’ve been a little busy with Jordan in ICU and my mana falling apart and trying to find out what fucking bastard shot Jordan in the first place.”
Shane didn’t back down an inch in the face of Jude’s rising anger. In fact, he reached out and gave the tip of Jude’s nose a little flick. “Don’t give me your self-righteous attitude. There are a few hundred other people who are dealing with ugly shit same as you. You’re just a dumbass for trying to carry it all on your own.”
Jude’s mouth dropped open to fire another shot of rage at Shane when it hit him that he was being a dickbag to one of his best friends. A friend who had come to check on him and his family.
“Holy fuck, you’re right,” Jude breathed. “I’m sorry.”
“Feel better?” Shane asked with a grin.
“Not really.”
“Yeah, I’m too easy of a target.” Shane stepped closer and dropped his arm across Jude’s shoulders, directing him toward the cafeteria. “After you’re done here, we can stop by Ward Security, see which bodyguards Rowe’s got lying around. You can shout at them. That’ll be more fun because they’ll take a swing at you.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Jude muttered, but he was so damn glad Shane was there. He loved Snow more than anything in the world, but Shane knew him in a different way. Shane wasn’t going to watch him like he was a ticking time bomb. Shane was going to poke at him and prod him until he finally exploded, then help clean up the mess.
As they entered the cafeteria, Shane made idle chitchat, filling him in on some recent cases he’d worked on and what he’d been doing with Quinn now that they were living together. Shane was also excited to share the news that his father was dating someone and that they were moving in together.
But as soon as they had their coffee and a slice of pie, Shane’s tone became serious.
“Talk to me.”
Jude sat with his hands wrapped around his cup of coffee as if its warmth could reach all the way down to the part of his soul that grew cold when he thought of what happened to Jordan. He could relay all the same things that Snow had told Brian, but that wasn’t what Shane was asking.
“Someone beat my brother, shot him, and then left him naked in a field in Sharonville. My little brother. Why? Why would someone do this to Jordan? It doesn’t make any sense.” Jude shook his head. “There’s no reason for anyone to hurt my brother.”
Shane stared at him, a frown on his face like Jude had said something wrong.
Groaning, Jude waved for Shane to hit him with it.
“Really? You ready for tough love?”
“As long as you know I reserve the right to punch you.”
Shane didn’t look impressed. After a deep breath, he said, “You talk about Jordan like he’s still five. He’s nineteen—”
“Twenty,” Jude corrected.
“God, you’re old.”
“Fuck off. You’re just as old as I am,” Jude snapped, but he got the point Shane was trying to make. He couldn’t help but think of Jordan as a little kid. Yes, he’d watched him grow up into a young man, but the person lying in the hospital bed weak and clinging to life reminded Jude more of the vulnerable little kid he’d tried so hard to protect.
“Jordan is twenty. He’s got a job, a car, and his own apartment. That means he’s got his own damn life that he’s living. And he’s making his own damn mistakes.”
“But he was raised better than this. He can’t be involved in gangs or drugs or other illegal shit. He’s smarter than that.”