11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Samuel

It's been three weeks since I witnessed what meeting Joanna has done to Rory.

It broke him, and I could do nothing to help him. He spent hours crying, sobbing, and then sniffling, only to start the cycle again.

I'm waiting for Aidan to provide the next name, and I hope he does it soon. I'm ready to move on from this case. I don't like what it's doing to me, how much it reminds me of my own demons. I need out.

A knock at the door pulls me out of these dark thoughts, and I jump to my feet—okay, rise with a lot of effort—to answer the door.

"Hey man," Keegan says when I open the door. He's followed by the ever-present other part of the couple.

"Hey Samuel," Martin says, then gets in front of Keegan, so he can gently pull me down and hug me close.

We were close before the accident, but since I saved his life, he's become a mother hen. I didn't do anything. I was kidnapped so they could force him to do what they wanted, and they nearly got him, if it wasn't for the man that is right now pulling him out of our embrace and hugging him instead.

"Hey," Martin says to him, but Keegan settles everything with a kiss.

"Come on, guys," I complain. "Stop the show."

"Do you want some for yourself?" Martin asks playfully, but Keegan's growling has Martin returning to the circle of his arms and kissing him senseless.

I leave them there and go back to the living room.

After a minute they join me there, where I'm spread out on the sofa trying to make my hip and leg comfortable.

"How are you?" Martin asks, concern and guilt showing on his face.

"I'm okay. Getting there slowly."

He looks at me with squinted eyes and I laugh because he looks ridiculous.

"However, if you want anything, you'll have to get it yourselves. I'm not moving from this spot."

"Lazy bastard," Martin stage-whispers, and our laughter fills the room again.

"That's my name," I joke with him.

I love when he's around. I always have, even when he was a scared mouse, hiding away from his ex. But now, with Keegan's love and attention, he's blossoming, and confidence flows from him like water from a spring.

"Okay, let me serve you both. K, what would you like?"

"I'd love to have a coffee, love."

Martin's eyes sparkle at the nickname. Then, lost in his love, he walks away.

"Hey." I call him back. "You forgot my order. I'd like tea, please."

"Tea is on its way."

When he's gone, I look at Keegan, who's observing me as if ready to say something. I raise a brow at him, questioning him without words.

"What are you doing, man?"

I frown at him, trying to understand where the comment is coming from, but coming up empty.

"What do you mean?"

"Aidan gave me something for you."

Oh, I see now.

"Yeah?" I say, trying to look surprised, but I shouldn't have bothered.

He's too good at what he does, and looks at me as if saying, "You can stop right there."

"I'm helping someone," I admit.

"Wouldn't it be best to rest and get back on your feet before you put yourself in danger again?"

"Nothing dangerous in what I'm doing."

"I doubt that, as we are involved."

What can I say? They are dangerous people indeed, but on the right side of the fence. As a policeman, I should be arresting them, not asking for their help. But they saved Martin, and so I kind of owe them.

"Everything will be okay," I assure Keegan.

"Don't let your need to save others put yourself at risk. You could lose your job."

"Who's losing his job?" Martin's voice surprises both of us.

I shoot a glance at Keegan, telling him without words to keep his mouth shut.

"No one is losing their job."

Martin rushes to my side and takes my face in his hands, and moves my head until we're eye to eye.

"Are you losing your job?"

I try to shake my head, but his grip is strong.

"No one is losing their job," I repeat.

"Is it because of your leg? This is my fault." His eyes fill with tears, and for a second I see the scared man he was nearly a year ago.

I grip his wrist and pull his hands away from my face, and when our eyes meet again, I talk. "No one is losing their job. I'm doing physio, and when I'm better I'll be back at my desk." I don't let my eyes wander, just in case he thinks I'm lying to him.

"You promise?" he asks, and fuck if the fact that he worries so much for me doesn't melt my heart a little.

"Yeah, I promise."

I don't acknowledge Keegan's doubting look, but I do pull Martin in and kiss his cheek.

"Where's my tea?" I ask, trying to dissipate the heavy atmosphere, and using the chance to get Martin out of the room so I can ask for the documents.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." And he's gone as quick as he appeared.

"Can I have them?" I say to Keegan, while looking at the door in case Martin comes back. I extend my hand, waiting for him to place them on it.

"Here they are," he says, pulling them out of his jacket, folded in half. He doesn't make any effort to give them to me. I try to snatch them out of his hand, but he's too fast. I don't need another person making my life harder than it is.

"Stop that. Don't be like Aidan. Please. He's given me enough grief to last me a lifetime."

"Who's giving you grief?" Martin's voice once again takes us by surprise.

"Oh, come on. Can you stop appearing at the worst moment?"

"I'll say I have the best timing. Keegan can vouch for that."

"Yuck. Don't. I don't want to know anything about your sexual performance and timing."

"Oh, that's a shame. I was so ready to share." He places one of the cups in front of me and the other in front of Keegan before he sits and opens his mouth, ready to shock me with his filthiness.

I'm glad when Keegan grabs him and pulls him close, so he can slam his mouth on Martin's and shut him up. I don't complain this time about their activity because I'm glad it's distracting Martin.

When they come up for air, Martin's all malleable and spaced out.

"Where is your drink?" I ask, and he jumps up on unsteady legs and leaves the room, but not before sending a heated look towards Keegan.

"Thanks," I say to him.

"If he asks, I'm not going to lie. So don't tell me anything, just be careful. It would kill Martin if something happened to you, especially if it's related to Carl's kidnapping."

I take the papers and push them under the cushion, and when Martin comes back, we're talking about physio, and how bossy and evil Gavin is.

We spend a few hours together, never touching on deeper topics, and I'm glad when Martin doesn't ask about work. I don't want to lie more than I already have. I'm not at risk of losing my job, but if I don't regain full mobility, I'll be locked at my desk, forcing me to find something else.

They leave, but only after Martin makes sure I have everything I need. He pulls me close, kisses me, and then scolds me, just like I was a kid living alone for the first time.

Once I'm on my own, I retrieve the documents from under the cushions and begin sorting through them. The faster I do it, the faster I can go back to my life and my job. Rory and his need to find John's organ recipients is affecting me more than I thought it would.

What I want is to concentrate on my recovery, and go back to work so I can forget how bad my life is and how the guilt is eating at my insides, day after day, hour after hour, and minute after minute.

I want to go back to saving others and throw myself into my redemption, even if I know it won't be possible.

Ever.