Chapter 45

"Doc. Turn it off, please."

Josh stared at the TV screen as the cameras panned across the massive crowd assembled in Washington DC. Homemade banners—and a lot that seemed much more professional—declared their faith in Spencer, but there were others that took the opposite point of view—they demanded that Spencer be executed. Dotted through the crowds were signs held high with the names of every place that had been revealed by the Times: Brady's articles had been front-page news for a week.

Josh didn't miss the signs demanding his arrest as the mastermind who got Spencer locked up unjustly. He'd done an interview with Brady, finally giving his side of the story, but Lord, there were still people out there who thought Spencer walked on water.

Some of those people had gone quiet when bodies were discovered in the grounds of the Santa Ana facility, however. So had the media.

Josh had a feeling that silence had been bought for a hefty price. Wherever Spencer was, he was paying a hell of a lot.

The newsman faced the camera, behind him the crowds, the police standing by in riot gear. "This is the scene here in Washington, DC, one of many similar demonstrations across the country that have taken place during the last three weeks, where protesters are demanding something be done not only about the spate of killings that have occurred across the US recently, but also the deaths that are only now coming to light as the public learns of attacks on other places as well. Initially it was believed that Dr. Josh Malone was the mastermind, but upon further investigation, it was discovered that Aaron Spencer was allegedly behind these attacks. Both men are still being investigated as?—"

"You know what? You're right." Josh flicked the television off. There were only so many times he could listen to this garbage, and he'd reached his limit. He'd also had his fill of seeing Spencer's by now familiar expression of outrage as he was led out of the press conference.

"I'm sorry, Doc." Dixon slid an arm over Josh's shoulder and pulled him close. He and Coby were warm, which chased some of the chill from Josh's bones.

Josh was sorry too. In the weeks since Spencer's disappearance, all hell had broken loose. Josh had known it was going to happen, but he didn't have to like it. Still, at least everyone in CrossBow knew he was innocent, and they told anyone who'd listen that Spencer was the mass murderer.

Unfortunately, some of those who listened still didn't believe, even when presented with proof.

"I knew it would happen, but I have to admit, I didn't realize it would hurt this much. I tried to call my parents, once it hit the news."

"How did that go down?"

He snorted. "They said I was a murderer and how dare I blame Spencer after all the good he'd done?" A laugh bubbled out of Josh. "Great. My parents, Aaron Spencer acolytes. They've chosen to believe him over their own kid."

Dixon kissed his forehead. "Do you want me to talk to them?"

For one brief moment that actually sounded like a good idea—until Josh realized that no, he really didn't want that at all.

"Uh-uh, it's fine. I cut them out of my life a long time ago, so yeah, it sucks, but I'll deal, just like I've been doing for all this time." He rested his head against Dixon's shoulder. "What hurts is that Gary and Michael are taking flack for this too."

"I know," Dixon murmured.

"Do you know how many contracts have been cancelled because of the bad publicity? I offered to quit, to move into my own building, but Gary said, and I quote, ‘Say something stupid like that again and I'll beat you. Well, I'll have Dixon beat you.'" That raised a chuckle. "Then he said ‘This is your home, you are our family. We know the truth and we'll weather this storm, just like all the ones that came before.'"

"He's not wrong, you know. Spencer fucked us all over." Dixon scowled. "Chalmers got fired because of his role in the whole thing. Carson did his best to go to bat for him, but got shot down. They claimed it was because he went off on his own."

"Yeah, right," Josh said in a morose tone. "More likely that Spencer had people on the payroll that didn't want to be looked at too closely." He craned his neck to meet Dixon's gaze. "You offered Chalmers a job here, right?"

"Yup. He helped us, and no way was I gonna leave him high and dry. He starts training next week, and he seems happy about it. Sam's happy too, because he said that Chalmers got in too deep once before, and that was why Carson needed to pull him out. He didn't give any details, but it sounded like a bad time. I'm hoping this will give him a chance to catch his breath."

Josh smiled. "See, I told you the two of you would be best friends."

Dixon hummed and brushed his fingers through Josh's hair. "Well, he did help save your life. That qualifies him for friend status right there—probably."

"Probably?"

"Hey, we need to see what kind of beer he brings to the poker game to know for sure if he's upgraded to best friend or not."

Josh jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. "You like him, admit it."

Dixon pushed out a grunt. "Yeah, I like him. He's dealt with a lot, and this is the absolute least we can do for him."

"What about Grady?"

Dixon sighed. "Now, that's a whole other kettle of fish. He's been named one of the special counsel for Spencer's trial. Assuming they ever find the son of a bitch." After Josh turned over the data dump Carson sent, they discovered lists of some of the people from both parties in all branches of government—local, state, and federal—who were beholden to Spencer. Each of them was being treated as an accomplice to murder, and they were pleading with the government to turn over evidence in order to keep them from spending a life behind bars.

Dixon frowned. "This whole thing exposed a very ugly side to politics in general." He huffed. "Not that it needed the help."

It had also shown the ugly part of humanity that Josh could have lived his whole life without knowing existed. He'd seen too many protests on television, spreading across the country, of people demanding that Spencer be exonerated, that it was Josh who'd done the deed, and that he should be punished for it. There were even mobs outside of CrossBow for a while shouting ugly, vile things, but they dispersed after a few days.

"Sure you don't regret getting involved with me?" Josh was ashamed to admit he was fearful of what the answer would be.

"For someone so smart, you say awfully stupid things." Dixon leaned over and kissed Josh's neck. "I love you, I love our weird-as-fuck cat, and we will be happy. This I swear."

Dixon's words soothed the ache in Josh's heart. He'd thought he'd lose everything, thanks to Spencer.

Dixon's phone buzzed, and Josh's initial instinct was to tell him not to look at it. His heart sank as he watched Dixon's expression morph from contentment to shock.

"What's happened?"

"Michael says to turn the TV on. News about Spencer." He grabbed the remote and aimed it at the screen.

"—Spencer walked into the Santa Ana Police department and gave himself up. He told officers that he hadn't realized he wasn't allowed to travel."

Dixon guffawed. "Yeah, right."

Josh was too busy speculating why Spencer had surfaced now.

On the screen, Spencer was being escorted from the building, surrounded by a phalanx of FBI agents, cameras focused on him.

"Does he have his own legion of reporters that just follow him everywhere to capture every second?" Josh murmured. "Because I swear he's never more than two feet from a report?—"

Crack.

Josh watched in fascination and horror as Spencer was slammed to the ground from behind, the blood spattering the feds assigned to protect him. He was covered by several men, while the others went in various directions, presumably to find the sniper. The cameras captured the mayhem that ensued.

"Someone had the same idea we did," Dixon commented in a low voice. "Can't say I'm sorry."

"No, no, no. This can't be happening," Josh whispered, his throat tight.

"Doc, what's wrong?"

He turned to Dixon. "You don't get it. If he dies, I'll be the most likely suspect." He stared at the screen, watching for any sign that Spencer was still alive. The TV went dark, and Josh jerked his head in Dixon's direction. "I was watching that."

"I made an executive decision. That shit can wait." Dixon locked gazes with him. "I mean it, Doc. You've been torturing yourself for weeks, and this isn't helping."

Josh had to admit Dixon was right.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. Then he remembered he had far more important things to think about. He shot a quick glance to the microwave so he could see the time. It was getting close. His heartbeat sped up.

I hope Dixon takes his gift the way I intended.

It felt like an awfully big gamble.

"I'm going in the other room," he said, trying but failing to stand. "Okay, never mind. After my appointment, I'm a little sore, so I'm going to stretch out here on the couch and take a nap."

"Want me to join you?"

That sounded like heaven, but the latest development had already taken its toll. Josh needed sleep. Too much stress, too little rest. "Can I take a raincheck?"

"Of course. Shut your eyes, Doc. I'm here with you, and I won't be going anywhere."

Josh closed his eyes, and a moment later, Coby climbed up behind him, her purrs rumbling through Josh, relaxing him.

And then he dozed off.

Dix stared at Doc,Coby curled on his shoulders. Even in sleep, worry creased Doc's features. Dix couldn't think of anything he could do to make it better for Doc. Hell, even saying something encouraging came across as merely platitudes, because he had no idea how the guy felt about having his life ripped apart by Spencer.

All he could do was hold him and wait for the eventual fallout.

He went to turn off his computer when his phone chimed. He glanced at the screen, and was about to send the unknown number to voicemail so it wouldn't wake Doc.

"You'll want to get that," Doc said from the couch, his eyes still closed. "Trust me on this."

Dix couldn't think of anyone he trusted more.

He slid a finger over the screen. "This is Meeks."

It was quiet for a moment. "Dixon?"

No way.Even though a couple of decades had passed, Dix still recognized that voice. "Whit?"

"Hey, man. How you doing?"

It was as if Dix was a teenager again, listening to his best friend, wishing they could get together and raise some hell.

Then it hit him.

"How'd you get this number?"

Whit chuckled. "I got a mail from someone called ‘Doc,' who told me I should call you. They said it was important."

Dix's head snapped toward the couch where Doc sat, hand in the air, giving him a thumbs-up. He stood, cuddling Coby, who refused to relinquish her warm spot, and headed into the other room. Dix was torn between rushing after him or trying to get some closure. He figured since Doc had to have gone to a lot of trouble to set this up, the least he could do was stay and work on getting his shit together.

"Doc is my guy," Dix said. "Been with him for a while now."

"Really? That's great. I'm married now. Living with my husband and our daughter, Alana." He sighed. "Look, Dix, I'm sorry about everything that?—"

"No," Dix said sharply. "Not one bit of what happened is on you. I was the one who fucking freaked out. It was me who pushed you away, and I've regretted it every goddamn day, but I was too much of a coward to deal with my shit. Doc was the one who convinced me I needed to man up."

Yeah, Doc knew him well enough to know Dix wouldn't have done that. He would have suffered, probably thinking of it as penance for his transgressions against his friend.

Whit chuckled. "You were a mule back then, and I doubt you're much better now."

Oh yeah, that whole "best friends know you" thing was an inescapable truth.

"You're right. I wouldn't have done anything about it because I deserved your anger for what I did."

"Yup, mule. I could have spoken to you?—"

"You tried," Dix stressed. "More than once, as I recall. I was the asshole who wouldn't let you talk to me. I don't know why I was so freaked out. Maybe because I was afraid of how things would change between us. I mean, I loved you as my best friend, but not anything more, you know? I could see you being hurt if I rejected you and?—"

"Whoa, now, hold on there, mule boy. Who said I had a thing for you?"

That stopped Dix in his tracks. "You mean… you didn't?"

"It was sex, pure and simple." Whit snorted. "Okay, maybe pure is too much of a stretch. Look, I was horny, you were there—and you were naked. I never had thoughts beyond getting off, because I figured since we were best friends, it would be fine to have a few benefits in there too."

Dix would have enjoyed that. His buddy had been a looker, all right. Tall, with rangy muscles, dark hair, and cornflower blue eyes. He had an easy smile that drew people like moths to a flame.

Except now Dix was drawn to his own flame, a certain redheaded genius.

He was grateful to Doc for the chance to fix a past mistake. Even if nothing ever came of it, Dix would know he'd done what he needed to.

"So, Whit, tell me about your family."

It was nice, catching up, talking about the things they'd done in their lives. What surprised Dix the most was that the ache he'd once felt over the loss of a friend wasn't there anymore. Sure, he was grateful to have this chance for closure, or simply to rebuild a friendship that had fallen by the wayside.

Only the future could decide that.

Right now, he had Doc—whom Dix loved with his whole heart—Coby, CrossBow, Gary and Michael, and yeah, Chalmers. He'd made a family of his own, one he would cling to fiercely, because if there was one thing Doc's brushes with death had taught him, it was when you had something you didn't want to lose, you did the work every goddamn day to ensure you kept it.

Whit talked about Alana, and Dix found himself wondering if Doc would ever want kids. He'd love to have a surrogate carry Doc's wigglers and produce a cute child with wide eyes and an insatiable thirst for knowledge.

They talked for a while, and when the call finished—once promises had been extracted and made—Dix put his phone down, aware of the smile that would not quit.

Warm lips ghosted over Dix's ear. "How'd the conversation go?"

He tilted his head back, staring up at the man who'd stolen his heart. "It was nice. Thank you for that. I misunderstood the situation, and we talked it out. I'm really grateful for that."

"Do you think you'll talk again?"

"He invited us to visit him and meet his family. I also told him he was welcome to come here." Dix shrugged. "Don't know if either will ever happen, but it's good to have the option." He drew in a breath. "Lemme ask you something. Have you ever thought about having kids?"

Doc came around and plopped down beside Dix. "If you'd asked me a year ago, the answer would have been no. If I didn't have enough focus to keep a pet, there was no way I'd cope with a kid. But now? With you here to help me?" He let out a deep sigh. "It's still a no. Sure, I might have considered it at one time, but this thing with Spencer has caused a seismic shift in my life. Our child could be targeted by nutjobs, and that could get ugly."

Shit. Dix hadn't thought of that. He hoped that the fucker was put to death. Or that someone in prison shanked him. Not that it would change anything for him and Doc.

"Then we'll adopt more pets. We'll have them bouncing off the walls."

Doc chuckled, and it was such a warm, sweet sound. "It's fine. We can get a friend for Coby, but I think two is plenty."

He denied it, but Dix could hear the longing in Doc's voice. He did want kids, and now it was nothing more than a pipe dream, because there would be problems for them growing up. He hated that something so beautiful with the potential to bring them closer was now permanently out of reach.

Doc leaned in and put his head on Dix's shoulder, and Dix took stock of his life. Maybe this was all the family they were meant to have. Him, Doc, the cats, and their friends. That would be okay. Not perfect, but still, how many things in life were?

"Dixon?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

Dix smiled. The man beside him was the perfect thing Dix needed, and he'd fight like hell to keep him in his life. He knew CrossBow would help protect Doc, too, and that went a long way to settling the pain in Dix's heart.

"Love you too, Doc. Always will. Now close your eyes and take a nap. You're paler than usual."

Doc chuckled. "Bossy bastard. How about we both go in and take a nap?"

Him and Doc in bed, Coby on Doc's pillow?

"Sounds like heaven, Doc. Let's do it."