Chapter Seven

Another chapter finished. Colson saved it and sat back with a sigh. While the words still flowed—and his agent was texting him every day with encouragement and not so subtle hints that if he finished by the end of the summer, he could arrange for foreign rights to be secured by year's end—all the initial excitement and joy had diminished after the break-in.

He knew it was silly to be so wrapped up in a picture, but its loss left a gaping hole inside him. Each morning when he awoke, he looked where their picture should've been and felt their absence. His grandparents, even in spirit, had always given him the strength to keep going.

His phone rang with an unfamiliar number. "Hello?"

"Mr. Delacourt, this is Detective Martinez."

"Oh, hi." Immediately, his mind went to that night a week ago with Harper Rose. God, the filthy dreams he'd had of that man. He'd spent every night since then thinking what it would've been like had they taken it to the next step. But then he'd accused Harper of unprofessional behavior.

He'd instantly regretted the accusation because it had been made out of fear. With Evan gone—and if he were honest, even before Evan had dumped him—he'd lost the part of himself that had found pleasure in writing, in life…in love. Sparring with Harper had been more than fun. It had awakened his long-lost passion and the lust he'd thought gone forever. As much as it shocked him, it scared the hell out of him as well.

But why him—why Harper? For God's sake, he didn't even like the man. Harper Rose was arrogant, annoying, overly confident…and the best damn kisser who'd ever put his mouth on him.

Colson sighed. Nothing he could do about it now.

He'd plotted a romantic side angle in the book for Harrison Rosa, where he'd fallen for someone he worked with. In his writing, he could explore what might've happened between Harper and him if he hadn't said something stupid.

He rubbed his face as if to wipe away the memory.

"If possible," Martinez said, "could you come down to the precinct?"

Alarmed, he gripped the phone tighter. "Why? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry. It's nothing we can discuss over the phone."

Martinez's terse voice didn't bode well.

"I can be there in about thirty minutes."

"That works. See you then."

Before he had a chance to say anything further, the call ended. He quickly showered and dressed and walked to the precinct, about a mile away. He was ushered into a room where he waited for almost ten minutes, tapping his fingers and scrolling through his phone, growing more agitated by the minute.

The door opened and Martinez walked in, carrying a file. Colson peered over his shoulder, expecting to see Harper. Martinez's lips quirked.

"My partner is in court this morning."

He hoped his cheeks weren't red. "I—uh, wasn't…what did you need me for, Detective?"

Martinez sat across from him. "We've found some items from the break-ins, and we wanted to see if you could identify them."

"Oh. The picture of my grandparents?"

"I'll show you what we have." He set the file on the table, pulled out a sheaf of printed photographs, and set them out on the table one by one. "If you recognize anything, please let me know."

Colson scanned the photos, recognized his wallet and a laptop that could be his, and pointed them out to Martinez. Spying the picture frame, his heart sank. With a trembling hand, he reached out and picked up the photo.

"Dammit."

The frame was disappointingly, heartbreakingly empty. Colson ran his fingertips over the blank space. "No sign of the photograph?"

"No, I'm sorry." Martinez met his gaze. "I heard it was a sentimental picture."

"My grandparents. My favorite one I had of the three of us."

The detective's brow creased, and his eyes reflected sympathy. "We're still looking, Mr. Delacourt. If we find it, we'll be sure to return it. I can't give you the items just yet as they're in evidence, but we believe we're closing in on the gang. So hopefully soon."

"I hope so too. You think you know who these bastards are?"

"We have an idea, but we want to make it as tight a case as possible."

"I understand. It's just so…creepy, knowing someone's been in your home, touching your things." He shivered. "Have you ever been robbed?"

"No, but I understand what you're saying. It's a violation of your personal space. But you're home now, correct?"

"Yes," Colson answered with more confidence than he felt. "I refuse to let these fuckers drive me out of my own space."

Martinez nodded with approval. "Good. That's the right attitude. We'll get them, and things should return to normal for you soon."

"Thanks."

But on the walk home, Colson realized he wasn't sure it would ever be normal again. Even now, in the early afternoon, he was hesitant to be there alone. Was it only a few weeks earlier he'd considered his house a sanctuary? His safe space? He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, then decided to head to the park and sit in the sun. He'd written his words for the day and deserved a break.

He sat on a bench by the water and stared out at the skyline across the river. Seagulls skimmed the surface, and boats sailed past. When he'd turned four, his father had started taking him out on their boat, and they'd spend the day together on the Long Island Sound. But after a few years, after he'd shown no signs of sailing aptitude and preferred reading a book rather than learning about masts and flaps, his father had stopped bringing him. He left for college, with his father's words ringing in his ears.

College will make a man out of you.

And when he lost his virginity to a man he barely knew, he heard that taunt in his head. With each and every man he let touch him and whom he touched and kissed and fucked, he'd think, Am I enough of a man for you now, Dad? Knowing all along, he'd never measure up to who his father wanted him to be.

Futile as it was, he'd tried to keep communication open between him and his parents, but they'd never reciprocated. It had always been him reaching out. Even Evan had dismissed it, but Colson understood. Evan had kept his sexuality a secret until he'd graduated business school. The day he came out, his parents refused to accept it and cut him off, so Evan had little desire to have Colson and his parents make peace.

But now, after the break-in, the desire grew stronger, and without thinking about what he'd say, he placed the call. It rang several times.

"Hello? Colson? Is it you?"

"Mom, yeah. How are you?"

"Is everything all right?"

Not exactly a warm and loving response after not speaking for so long. But Colson wasn't surprised. That was the way they were.

"Yes. I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe it would be nice to talk."

"About what?"

He blinked and huffed. "I don't know…what we've both been doing all these past years. Come on, Mom."

"I don't understand what you think I should say. You told us the distressing news and didn't even ask us how we felt."

As usual, his mother was making it all about her and her feelings, completely negating his. Not to mention calling his coming out "distressing news."

"Out of curiosity, what would be the purpose of asking how you felt about my being gay? It's not going to change anything."

"Really, Colson. I know you like to think of yourself as rebellious, but couldn't you have—"

"What, Mom? Not been gay?"

"I've heard that sometimes men think they are…that way…but later they realize it was only curiosity and they return to normal."

Tears burned his eyes. "I am normal, Mom. This was a mistake."

He ended the call and wiped at his eyes, furious that he'd allowed her to get to him. What he needed was to walk it off, then bury himself in something mindless. He put his earbuds in, and head down, walked until he reached the children's park. Remembering his sweet conversation with Luis and David, Colson scanned the crowd, his gaze alighting on the two men sitting and watching the children on the swings.

He settled next to Luis on the bench and removed the earbuds. "Hi. Remember me?"

Luis laughed. "I sure do. And look." He showed Colson the e-reader with his first book: The Killer Behind the Stairs . "I'm rereading because I can't find anything else to hold my interest."

"Wow, that's great. Thanks for showing me. It's always nice to see."

"How is your day so far?" Luis gave David some juice.

"I was writing all morning, and then I had to go to the police station to identify some items they found from the break-in at my house."

"They caught the guys? It's definitely a ring going around the neighborhood."

He frowned. "Not yet, but the detective assured me they have leads and they're close." He sighed and propped his chin in his hand. "It's not going to bring back the picture of my grandparents. They found the frame, but it was empty. I'm afraid that's gone forever. Everything else is replaceable but that."

Luis's smile faded. "I'm sorry. That's rough. But I'm sure the detectives working on the case are trying their best."

"I hope so." He thought for a moment. He used to have Hogan preread his books, but with the two kids and a full-time job, his friend was stretched pretty thin. "Anyway, I've been working on this new book and was wondering…would you like to read the rough copy? I'd love to hear your thoughts on how it's going and any problems you come across. No pressure, of course."

Luis's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? Man, that would be so cool. I'd love to do it."

"Are you sure? I know you have a full plate taking care of David."

Luis brushed him off. "No worries about that. My boss is cool, and I have plenty of free time once he gets home from work. He's super devoted to David."

"Must be a nice guy," Colson mused.

"He's great, except I wish he'd make more of an effort to have a social life."

"I guess if he wants to, he will. Anyway, give me your email, and I'll send you the file later."

"Can you tell me a little about the book?"

Colson explained the plot, and then, curious to see Luis's reaction, revealed the romantic angle.

"First book where you'd have a detective with a girlfriend."

"Or a boyfriend," Colson said. "I haven't decided yet."

"Huh. Interesting. I'll let you know what I think."

David made a noise and turned his head. Colson spotted the ice cream truck pulling up. "How about if I seal the deal with a chocolate cone for you and a vanilla cup for David?"

"You don't have to," Luis protested.

"I know, but trust me, you've made a lousy day much better." He joined the line at the truck, and when he returned, handed Luis the cone. "Would you…if you want to eat your ice cream, I could help with David, if it's okay with you."

David gave him that sweet smile, and Luis stared at him. "You want to help with David?"

Colson worried he'd overstepped, but he felt such a pull toward these people he barely knew.

"Yes. Before my grandparents passed away, they were in an assisted-living facility, and I would visit them and help feed my grandfather after his second stroke and then my grandmother when her Alzheimer's became too advanced. They had full-time help, but I was determined to be there for them, just as they were always there for me when I was young—and in fact, without them, I wouldn't have been able to live here right out of college."

"That's very kind of you."

"Believe me, it takes my mind off…stuff." Colson put the spoon to David's lips, and he licked at the ice cream. It was impossible to be with David and not fall for his gentle sweetness.

"Care to share? I'm a good listener." Luis took a lick of his cone, but his eyes were focused on Colson.

He lifted a shoulder, trying not to allow his mother's cool indifference to hurt him any longer.

"It's pretty simple. I was feeling a little down, and I-I haven't spoken to my mother in a long while, so I thought I'd call."

"Uh-oh. Doesn't sound like it turned out well."

"I'm gay. I don't know if you were aware."

Luis shrugged. "I might've read it somewhere, but it doesn't matter to me."

"Well, it mattered to her and my father. And I just thought maybe after fifteen years, their feelings might've changed." He fed David another spoonful and wiped his lips. "Turns out, nothing's changed. So I started feeling a little sorry for myself, and here I am."

"I'm sorry. But it's their loss. As I see it, you're a great guy."

Colson laughed, and David laughed with him. "Luis is funny, huh? He doesn't know me, but he thinks I'm a great guy."

Luis didn't join in their hilarity. In fact, he was frowning.

"Colson, look at you. Here you are, sitting with practically two strangers, feeding ice cream to a man in a wheelchair. You may say that's not being a great guy, but from my perspective, it's pretty amazing."

"Well, thanks, but it's just being a decent human being as I see it."

"Trust me, there are way too few of those types of people as I see it. Do you know, in all the years we've been coming to the park, no one has ever come up and spoken to us? They give David a wide berth, like he's got a communicable disease. You and your friend and his children were the first to show him kindness. So thank you for seeing him."

"We all need to be seen."

He wished them a great rest of the day, and still feeling blue, texted Hogan, telling him about the conversation with his mother.

She's the loser. One day maybe she'll wake up and figure out you're the best.

Thanks, but after all this time, I doubt it.

Want to come by for dinner?

Much as he loved Hogan, Bea, and the kids, he wanted to be alone.

Rain check? I'm going to work on the book.

On his way home from the park, he received a text from Harper, and all thoughts of his book flew out the window.

We're close to an arrest.

Colson reached his house and entered.

Determined to keep it as informal and brief as possible, he replied: So your partner said. Still mad at me?

No.

He wondered what Harper was up to and why he was texting. It wasn't necessary. Did he want to come over? Finish what they'd started? It would give him a chance to apologize. A thrill ran through him, while at the same time, he was annoyed with himself at how badly he wanted to see Harper.

But Harper didn't text him back, and that only added to his frustration. Had Harper only used him that night? If so, Colson sure as hell wasn't going to allow that to happen again.