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the hospital that he figured what the hell.
It was a nice hotel, although Holden had been in nicer. Still, it was clean,
and Grey had barely unpacked. In fact, one of his suitcases sat unopened on the
corner armchair. The sheer amount of trust seemed momentarily weird to him,
but Grey and Scott not only shared hotel rooms on the road, they lived together
when honestly they didn't have to. They could have kept secrets from each other,
but most times they didn't seem to bother. Come to think of it, they were
probably closer to each other than a few couples Holden knew. He'd have said
"straight boys", except Scott wasn't straight, and he couldn't help but have some
doubts about Grey.
Holden thought about peeking in Grey's luggage, but who cared? Grey was
probably cagey twenty four/seven, and only let his guard down once during every
harvest moon. So instead he got up and went to take a shower. He had a lot to do
today, and he wasn't sure how to do it.
He was determined to pick up the threads of the Mandy Pack case, but leads
had dried up. It was still very possible she was in the hands of traffickers or just
one pervy bastard, but how to narrow them down? Right now he had no way to
do that. Sensibly he should just give up, but Roan wouldn't, at least not to so
easily, and it would keep his mind off Roan. Last he heard, the doctors were
dithering over Roan's brain scans, and waiting on Doctor Rosenberg. That didn't
sound good, but Roan had recovered from worse. He was just going to assume
he'd recover from this too.
He was so busy trying to figure out his next move, he only realized he didn't
have a change of clothes when he got out of the shower. Holden made a disgusted
noise as he got dressed in his clothes from last night, feeling like he was on the
job again. This feeling continued as he walked out of the bathroom and into the
scent of bacon, eggs, and coffee. Scott was sitting up in bed, the room service
trolley parked beside the nightstand, a plate balanced on his lap. "Oh hey," he
said through a mouthful of food. "I ordered a shitload of stuff. It's on Grey's tab,
so what the hell."
Holden shook his head, both mildly disgusted and somewhat impressed by
his gluttony. Scott could really pack away the food, and during the regular
season, he really didn't give a shit. He knew he'd burn it off during the games.
Holden sat down on the edge of the bed to retrieve his socks, but he stole a piece
of buttered toast and had a bite before he said, "Can't, I gotta go work on a case."
Scott gnawed on a piece of bacon as he said, "Let me finish eating, and I'll
help you."
Holden knew he shouldn't scoff, but he sort of did anyways. "Yeah, I don't
think so."
"Why not?"
"I don't need the help."
"Sure you do. I mean, Roan's incapacitated, so you've got no one backing
you up. I ain't him, but I can fill in."
Holden stared at him, but his ice blue eyes were pure innocence. He was
serious. "I don't need back up. But thanks."
Holden was finished with his toast and started putting his socks on, so he
only felt Scott shift on the bed before he said, "Why are you sayin' it like it's
embarrassing I even asked? You think I can't handle it?"
He sighed, as he had always been afraid of this conversation. "Look, you
have your life and I have mine. Let's keep it that way, okay?"
"Wow, did that sound rehearsed."
"Look & I'm more than just Roan's sidekick, okay? There are lines he won't
cross unless he's a lion. I don't need to be an animal to cross those lines."
"Meaning what exactly?"
"Meaning drop it now. It's better for both of us that we keep some mystery."
Scott moved forward, so he was sitting beside him on the bed. "You're a real
life enforcer. I get that."
Holden fixed him with a stern glare. "This isn't a game, Scott."
"Holy fuck, Den, you think I don't know that? You think I don't know you?"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning do you have any idea how many of your hidden weapons I've
accidentally found at your place? The gun, the taser, the aluminum bat, the
knives. Man, one of those knives even had a bit of blood on it."
He'd found his weapons? Goddamn it, he'd thought he'd hid them well. "The
knives are clean."
"I play hockey. I know blood when I see it."
He couldn't argue with him there. "If you know, why are you still with me?"
Now it was Scott's turn to glare at him. "Uh huh, 'cause I thought going in
you were an uncomplicated, endless party. Gimme a break."
Interesting. He hadn't really considered the possibility that Scott knew how
dangerous he actually was, or even had a hint. "It doesn't bother you?"
"Well, yeah, it does a little. But it's your life, Den. You make your choices,
you live with them. We all do. I just hope yours don't get you killed or thrown in
jail."
"I'm a whore. There's no other way I can end up."
"Bullshit. So are you planning to do something illegal?"
"No."
"Okay then, why can't I help?"
How could he be serious about this, and why today? Goddamn his free days.
"Don't you have to hit the gym?"
"As long as I do my basic work out, it doesn't matter when I do it. So you're
not getting away that easy."
Holden sighed, shaking his head in disgust. "Aren't you known? You
shouldn't get involved with this."
"Known?" He snickered derisively. "The only time I've ever been
recognized has been by kids who were really into sports. Oh, and a puck bunny."
"Puck bunny? Is that what you call groupies?"
"Yep."
"Did you sleep with her?"
"Does a blowjob count?" He said with a smile.
"At least I'm not the only slut in this relationship."
"You're not a slut, you're a whore. There's a difference between paid and
free."
Holden shook his head again, refusing to laugh. "Yeah, about fifty bucks.
We done here?"
"No," Scott replied, reaching back to snag another slice of bacon from his
plate. "You've yet to give me a good reason why I can't come with you."
He sighed as he finished lacing up his boots, and realized the truth was just
going to have to do here. "You can't come with me, Scott, because I have no idea
what the fuck I'm doing. I've hit a dead end, okay? I'm trying to figure out my
next move, or at least I was before I got distracted arguing with you."
Scott didn't take the hint to shut up. Did he ever? "So what would Roan do?"
"I dunno. Probably lion out and scare someone so much they told him
everything."
"Okay. You can't lion out, but you're sure as shit scary sometimes."
Holden frowned at him. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment. But I'd never
put myself in Roan scary territory." Scott probably thought he'd seen Roan at his
worst, but he had no idea. No one had seen Roan closer to the edge of his animal
nature than Holden, and Holden wasn't sure at the time he'd live through the
experience. Only he and Roan - and maybe Dylan? - knew how deeply and truly
terrifying Roan could be.
"Okay, so if scare is off the table, what's the next move?"
"I told you, I don't know." Scott stared at him in a manner that suggested he
wouldn't give up that easy - again, did he ever? - so Holden considered it. "If
Roan couldn't scare anyone into telling him what he wanted to know & I dunno.
Knowing him, he'd go back and start at the beginning."
"Great! Do that then."
Holden glared at him, and gave him the shorthand version of the Mandy
Pack case, how she may have run off to meet an internet boyfriend or an internet
predator, how she was cat obsessed, how the mother struck him as creepy and
stupid. Scott listened, nodding, and finally said, "What about going to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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