Chapter 1

Gray rolled his shoulders, trying to release some tension. He'd had a hell of a last few months on the job. After arresting a piece-of-shit drug dealer, he'd spent weeks defending himself from the fucker's accusations of police brutality—yes, Gray had manhandled him, but that was because he tried to fucking stab Gray after swearing that all he wanted to do was talk. Finally, Gray had been cleared of all wrongdoing, and yesterday, the man, Mitchell Benson, was convicted and given twenty years in prison, the strictest allowable sentence for his crimes.

While Benson's shenanigans functioned as a backdrop, Gray had tried to work himself out from under a heavy caseload. He'd spent the last several days chasing down dead ends in an investigation into a young—as in underage—sex worker's murder. So far, no one he'd talked to would even admit to knowing her, and they sure as fuck hadn't given him any information that might lead to a conviction. Every time he thought about the girl, he remembered Nancy, a young girl he'd failed to help a long time ago. Sometimes being a cop was fucking depressing.

"Gray, it's time. Let's go." Lieutenant Thornton appeared by his desk. Gray had been so mired in frustration he hadn't even noticed the lieutenant.

He sighed and closed the file he'd been looking at. As if the week hadn't been bad enough, now he had to attend a press conference. His captain, with the sadistically gleeful approval of Thornton, had decided Gray should be the new face of Durham PD. Gray wanted to tell Captain Russell to go fuck herself, but sadly, that was out of the question.

"I've got to go to the restroom first," Gray said as he removed his suit jacket from the back of his chair.

His lieutenant wagged a finger at him. "No escaping out the window. I'll make sure someone's watching."

Gray wanted to wipe the smirk off Thornton's face. Of course, if Gray thought running away would work, he just might try it, not that he could fit through the tiny men's room window.

After Gray finished at the urinal, he glanced at himself in the mirror and straightened his tie. His boyfriends, Jack and Mason, had helped him pick out the suit he was wearing, the nicest one he'd ever owned. He'd grumped his way through the shopping trip, but he had to admit he looked good—strong, confident, exactly the image the captain wanted him to show.

Their chief—in cahoots with the mayor's office—had gotten the idea that the police force should be proactive about PR. Gray had no desire to be put in the spotlight, even if they needed to give the community something positive to focus on. No matter what Captain Russell thought, Gray wasn't sure a big gay bear was what people wanted to see in a cop. But after the captain had given him a well-prepped speech on the police force embracing all people—his gay ass included—she'd requested Gray participate in what was to become a weekly briefing with several specially chosen local reporters. Obviously, the "request" was simply an order phrased more nicely than usual.

Thornton banged on the door. "Gray, quit primping and get your ass out here."

Hopefully he wouldn't disappoint his superiors. No matter how much he hated being made a poster boy, he was willing to suffer if it would help with the department's image.

He took a final breath and walked through the door. Thornton led him to a classroom that had been turned into a "briefing" room. Several cameramen were setting up, and four perfectly coiffed reporters were waiting for him at the front of the room.

Their captain caught up to them as they were about to enter.

"Time to go in?" Thornton asked.

She nodded and looked at Gray. "Sit at the back until it's your turn, and don't draw attention to yourself."

Right. At six four with a linebacker's build, Gray drew attention to himself wherever he went. It doesn't hurt that you are also hot as fuck. He heard Jack's words in his head and fought the urge to grin. "Yes, ma'am."

The chief spoke, and Gray tried to focus on his words, but the voice in Gray's head saying don't screw this up drowned out everything else.

A female Vice detective he recognized but didn't really know fielded questions for several minutes. Then he was up. He walked down the aisle between the seats and moved behind the podium, hoping to God no one could tell how nervous he was.

"You must be feeling good now that the man who accused you of excessive force is behind bars," a reporter stated.

Gray froze for a few seconds as flashes assaulted his eyes. "I…" Fuck. Say something intelligent. "I have the utmost respect for Judge Halsey, and I believe she weighed the facts and made the best possible decision."

"But you must've been thrilled to see him get the maximum penalty?"

"I hoped to see justice served, and I believe it has been."

Another reporter waved his hand wildly, and their PR representative acknowledged him.

"Surely after Benson's accusations, you feel vindicated that he's going to spend a long time in prison."

"Again, my goal as a member of the police department is to bring criminals to justice. I brought him in, and the court system took it from there." Gray fought not to show his disgust for the platitudes he was spouting.

"So you would have been okay with a decision for a lighter sentence?" a woman in a sensible gray suit asked.

"That's not my call."

"But surely you're pleased with today's verdict," a woman with hair pulled back in a severe bun said. If Gray remembered correctly, she worked for Raleigh's largest newspaper.

"I'm pleased any time a guilty man is taken off the streets by our justice system."

"But considering your history with?—"

Didn't they get that he wasn't going to give them what they wanted? "My personal opinion isn't what matters. The jury found him guilty, not me."

"But I bet?—"

Captain Russell stepped in front of the podium. "I'm sorry, that's all the questions we have time for. Detective Sadler has cases to get back to."

Russell and Thornton walked out with Gray as the chief gave a few closing remarks. Gray had been instructed to leave immediately so the reporters couldn't hound him after the official press conference ended.

"See. I told you things would go well," Russell said.

Gray didn't like the satisfied look on her face. Not that he'd wanted to screw up, but having done well, he'd keep getting put in front of the cameras.

"All I did was give a bunch of pat answers. What was the point?"

Russell raised her brows, and Gray realized how pissed off he sounded.

"Sorry, ma'am."

She nodded. "Apology accepted." Then she turned to head back into the conference room.

Thornton eyed Gray for a moment, then his expression relaxed. "I guess that's a fair question."

"It is," Gray agreed.

"Russell wanted a statement out there and what you said was perfect. You refused to put the attention on police getting revenge on criminals who go after us."

Gray nodded. As stupid as it had sounded to him when he was up at the podium, Gray hadn't said anything that was wholly untrue—if the captain had asked that of him, for him to go against what he believed in, then he would have refused no matter what it meant.

Yes, he was glad to see Benson going to prison, but he also believed in the justice system, or at least, the system as it was meant to be. He wanted the guilty to go to jail, the innocent to go free, and the streets to be safer. Jack always said Gray was a closet romantic, that he'd have made a perfect Old West sheriff, but he just wanted to do right by people.

After the press conference, Gray did his best to follow up on a few leads, but as soon as he could get away with it, he grabbed his jacket and his messenger bag and headed for the elevator, praying no one would try to stop him.

He wished he had a solid lead on the murder case, but overall it had been a good day and it was going to be an even better night. It had been far too long since both Jack and Mason had been home for the evening. He intended to take full advantage of it.

After he started his truck, he texted them both. Heading home early. Need me to pick up dinner?

Made lasagna,Jack responded. We need to keep up our strength.

Mmm. His favorite dinner. Damn right we do.

Gray let himself imagine all the things he wanted to do to his men later. Restrain them. Spank them. Fucking torment them until none of the three of them could stand it any longer. How long had it been since they'd focused on pleasure all fucking night? Way too long. Maybe they'd fuck first and eat dinner later. He threw the truck in reverse and backed out of his spot, hoping he wouldn't hit any traffic on the way home.