Chapter 19

Dix sat up,determined not to wake Doc. He needed his rest. It had taken Doc at least two hours last night to calm down enough to finally fall asleep. Doc's brain was a fascinating thing. It was scattered, sure, but when he latched onto something, it was hard for him to get rid of it.

Fucking him into oblivion was as good a way as any to wear him out, and much more effective than warm milk.

Much more enjoyable too.

Dix scribbled a note to say he was going to the cafeteria to pick up some pastries, then headed downstairs. As he entered the bright room, he waved at the staff working in the kitchen before making a beeline for the counter where he'd find Doc's favorites.

Except someone had beaten him to it.

"What the hell are you doing up already?" Dix demanded. "Does Michael know you're down here?"

Gary jerked his head in Dix's direction, his cheeks stuffed with some baked goodies, giving him the appearance of an overly ambitious chipmunk. He stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.

Dix shook his head, chuckling.

Gary swallowed hard, then took a swig of orange juice from the bottle he pulled out of his pocket.

"He was sleeping when I left. We talked long into the night about this whole thing with Josh." His brow furrowed. "I have to admit, I don't know how to proceed. Michael made a compelling argument for finding someone in the government to talk with, but Josh's was equally persuasive." He cocked his head to one side. "You got a few minutes to sit and talk?"

"Sure. Doc's sleeping too. I'm hoping he'll be out a few more hours. He… didn't sleep well last night."

Gary's chuckle was downright filthy. "Because of thinking or fucking?"

Dix should have been surprised, but Gary had known Doc a lot longer than he had. "A little from column A, a lot from column B." He pulled out a chair and sat down. Gary did the same across from him.

Gary smirked. "Man, Michael had you pegged. I have no idea how I missed the signs."

"You've had other stuff to worry about." Dix frowned. "This shit has me worried, especially if they've been after him this whole time."

"I'm pulling in extra people. Josh has to be protected at all costs. Especially if the government is somehow involved." He lapsed into silence for a moment, and then arched his eyebrows. "So… I hear from Michael that you and Josh are… close now."

Dix squirmed under Gary's flinty gaze. Even as banged up as he was, the man was still an imposing figure.

He went with nonchalance. "Yup." Dix stilled. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Gary's gaze didn't falter. "Michael said he warned you not to hurt him. I'm only going to add one stipulation." He leaned in close. "Dix? Don't fuck this up." Then he smiled. "Please."

Dix blinked. "You're not going to give me a lecture about the hazards or ethics of having feelings for a client?"

Gary smirked. "Oh, so you have feelings? It's more than just getting laid?"

Dix growled. "Fuck you, Cross. Of course I care for Doc. Why the fuck would you say something like that?"

Gary held up a finger, then grabbed his phone. He tapped the screen and brought it to his ear. A moment later he gave a gooey smile, and Dix knew it had to be Michael on the other end. "He's angry that I'm questioning his motives … Yeah, it's obvious he has feelings …We good? … Okay." Then he closed the phone and slid it back into his pocket before regarding Dix with a smile. "You have our blessing."

What the….

Dix folded his arms. "And why would I need your blessing?"

He shrugged. "You know how special Josh is. To me, he's doubly so. Without him, there wouldn't be a CrossBow."

A question rose in Dix's mind, one he'd considered asking for a long time but hadn't wanted to push. "How did you even get involved with him?"

Gary drummed his fingers on the tabletop, a faraway look in his eyes. "After I returned stateside and got out of the hospital, I was looking for something to do. You know what happened to Eric, so there's no sense in going through that all over again. Honestly, when he died, I thought the dream we were planning had died with him." His face took on a grim expression. "But I was determined not only to realize that dream, but to make it a success. I started working out of a tiny office, just me and two other guys." He smiled. "We weren't staffed to be a good bodyguard agency by any means, but we took whatever jobs came our way. Then I decided if we were going to actually do something with the business, we needed capital, way more than my benefits were paying." Gary gave a shrug. "So I figured I'd look for a loan. I sat down with the guys, and we made a list of what we needed. It was mostly things like guns, a bigger office, a receptionist, bulletproof vests, and the like. Of course, the stuff we wanted was high-end expensive. We wrote up a business plan, made all the calculations for what we needed, and I set off."

Dixon reached over and took the rest of the muffin from Gary's hand and popped it into his mouth.

"Hey!" Gary glared at him.

"Show me a note from your doctor or Michael that says you're allowed to have it, and I'll get you another. Until then, I've seen your dietary requirements, and something this sweet is definitely not on it." Dix wagged his finger.

Gary rolled his eyes. "You and Michael, I swear. Pains in the ass, both of you. Anyway, there I was, pounding the pavement, trying to line up investors, searching for the capital I needed to start what would become CrossBow." A faint frown creased his brow. "Except no one was really interested, which wasn't all that surprising considering the amount of money I required. And then one day I thought I'd pulled it off. I met with a group of bankers who wanted to know everything—what we needed the money for, how it would pay for itself in the future—and I was doing my damnedest to convince them the idea was feasible." His face fell. "In the end, they said no. Talk about a waste of time. I left the bank in a funk, dejected enough that I was certain I was never going to find a backer. Then someone came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder."

"That was Doc?"

Gary nodded. "I turned and we gave each other a once-over." He snorted. "I wasn't impressed. He was dressed like a schlub. A T-shirt with a big stain on the front, blue jeans that had a hole in the knee, and tennis shoes that probably could have walked to the trash by themselves." His eyes sparkled. "Of course, I don't know what he was thinking when he looked at me. Then he held out his hand and said, ‘Hi, I'm Wheels. I heard you talking with the bankers, and I wanted to say I think your idea is amazing.'" He smiled. ‘I want to help you.'"

"How old was he then?"

"Twenty-four or so. He didn't look as though he had two nickels to rub together. Before I could question him, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me away from the bank onto the sidewalk."

Yeah, that sounded like Doc. "What happened?"

"He led me to a limousine, and that was it, I knew I was being punked. I expected to hear laughter any minute. But the driver opened our doors and Josh got in." Gary chuckled. "I think my jaw hit the sidewalk at that point. Josh told him to take us to a lawyer's office. Once there, he told the guy to give us all the financial help we needed."

"It sounds like something out of a movie," Dix commented.

Gary nodded, eyes wide. "I know, right? I mean, who the hell does something like that, especially to someone they don't know? When I asked him about repayment, he waved a hand at me. ‘I don't need it, trust me. What impressed me was when you said you'd take jobs for people who couldn't afford it, in order to help them out. That told me something vital.' Josh smiled. ‘This is more than a business for you. It's personal.'"

"Which of course it was," Dix confirmed.

Another nod. "We got to talking, and the more I told him about the ultimate goal for the dream, the more excited he got. Finally, after all was said and done, he said he'd make me a deal. He would give us—free and clear—everything we needed to create CrossBow, including purchasing the land to put up the building. All he wanted from me was a promise that he could have a few rooms to do his experiments." Gary chuckled. "Only an idiot would say no to that, right? When we sat down with the architect, we told him what we wanted, and I added that I needed one of the floors to be labeled as research and development, under the direction of Dr. Wheels Malone. Swear to God, Josh cried."

"He's a soft-hearted kind of guy," Dixon said gently.

"He is." Gary swiped a finger under his eye, his voice choked with emotion. "Josh gave me my dream. There is nothing I wouldn't do to pay him back." He aimed a hard stare at Dix. "So you'll have to forgive me if we want to make sure your intentions are honorable. Just think of us as his fathers."

It was that which made Dix realize Josh, Gary, and Michael were more than just coworkers or friends.

They were a family.

Josh rolledover with a happy little sigh. He was so freaking comfortable, except for that delicious twinge in his ass from their extracurricular activities last night. If that was how Dixon got him to sleep, Josh was all for it. The apartment was quiet, so Josh figured Dixon was either in another room or had left. He got up and padded naked into the living room. The note on the table was so big, Josh couldn't have missed it.

Hey, Doc! I'm hoping you're still sleeping. I went down to the cafeteria so I could be there when they pulled all those delicious baked goodies out of the ovens. I want to be sure to get you a piping-hot fritter, a nice pat of butter, and some coffee. If you're reading this, why don't you go back to bed for a while? You need some sleep. The other stuff will wait until you're awake.

Heat pooled in his belly at the realization that Dixon was once again taking care of him. Not that Josh needed it, but he appreciated the effort. Besides, he had work to do, and the sooner he started, the sooner they could put this mess behind them and start working toward… well, whatever it was they were looking to do moving forward.

He grabbed his pad from the charger and placed it on the table. He would have preferred to use his laptop, but this required layers of secrecy and encryption he wasn't about to find on an Apple device, and Josh had no desire to spend time rooting around his computer when his pad would do the job just fine. Better, even.

The first thing he did was make a list, so he wouldn't forget anything. He started with Tanner's name, then added in the names of the other basement-dwellers that he could remember, although he couldn't swear to some of them with any degree of accuracy. There were times—not often, but they happened—where he'd get a flash of someone and try to match the face with a name. He was rarely successful. The other guys had been okay, but mostly they were aloof. Then again, the government didn't expect them to become friends. In fact, they'd actively railed against it.

Those guys were all as young as I was, full of themselves, and sure they couldn't get caught.

Except someone had caught them, and they'd made the same choice as Josh. Working for the government instead of a spell in prison seemed like a no-brainer.

He opened the files he'd… emancipated and scanned the research notes, pulling out names of people he'd forgotten and adding them to his master list. Josh might not remember people well, but data? That he could usually recall with pretty good accuracy.

He skimmed the paperwork, jotting down any names that popped up, even if it was only a first name or an obvious pseudonym. As he continued to make notes, patterns began to emerge. Someone with the moniker of "AS" appeared more than anyone else in the paperwork.

AS is asking for the latest results. Move the basement-dwellers faster. AS is not a patient person.

AS checked in today. He seemed pleased with the results of the test, but he wants the results checked again to eliminate any anomalies. He's currently looking for another site for the next round of testing.

AS has found a site. A town roughly the size of our last test zone, but with a higher concentration of subjects. He wants us ready to go in three months. It will be tough, but the basement-dwellers have been making great strides. AS said that if they continue to perform, maybe he'll have jobs for them in the future.

Josh slumped in his chair. It still horrified him that they'd used the guys—used Josh—to kill more and more people. The only thing that had kept him sane was they'd performed their other "experiment" before Josh came on board, so he wasn't responsible for those deaths.

But you are now, aren't you?

No. He was not going to slip back into that mindset. Dixon had been right. He needed to use his anger to push forward. Falling into a depression again served no purpose other than letting the person in charge—whomever that might be—get away with yet more atrocities.

The door opened, and Dixon stepped into the room, accompanied by the amazing aroma of apples, cinnamon, sugar, and coffee.

Okay, maybe being taken care of wasn't so bad after all.

Dixon stared at him. "Hey, you're up." Then he frowned. "Now, why are you up?"

Josh stuck out his lower lip and fluttered his eyes. "Because the bed was cold and lonely."

Dixon burst out laughing. "You're a really bad scammer, you know that?" He put the plate on the table, and Josh's mouth watered at the sight of the golden-brown pastry. He loved apple fritters with a passion. Dixon sidled up to sit next to him. "What are you working on?" he chuckled. "And why are you working on it naked?"

"Hey, don't get ideas." Josh's ass needed a little respite before he let Dixon anywhere near it. "This is important." He turned the pad in Dixon's direction. "I knew the gist of the paperwork I liberated, but I'd never actually gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. I'm doing that now, and making notes on any common themes that turn up." He pointed at the screen. "Such as this. AS gets mentioned a lot, but who is AS? And why are they after these results?" Josh peered at the pad. "I'm going to go through the rest, to see if ‘AS' pops up anywhere else. It's a long shot, but right now, I don't have enough actual data to formulate a decent hypothesis."

And he needed to be right. This wasn't something where he could test a theory, then test it again and again. He needed to be sure his information was accurate, because they had to stop this psychotic bastard from hurting anyone else.

Josh wasn't about to let anyone else die because of his past.