"A real bed… I don't know how good that's going to be for my back."
Winston chuckled. "That's the beauty about being free, my friend! You can choose where you want to sleep!"
Race nodded with a small smile. "Thanks,
5
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Remmy
Duchene
Winston."
"Hey, you'd have done the same for me, so no thanking me. You hungry? I am craving grits."
Race grinned. "You haven't changed a bit."
"Why? When you obviously love the old, sexy me."
"My bad," Race laughed.
He looked out window and visions of that day
flashed through his mind.
"Don't move Race, please."
"You're helping them do this to me, X?" Race
questioned, with his hands behind his head.
"They wanted to send the Trigg after you. He shoots
first and asks questions later, man. Do you think I could let
his team come after you? Damn it, Race, how'd you get into
this mess?"
"Want us to take him, X?" someone called.
"Nah, I got this," Xavier replied. He turned back to
Race. "Sit down for a second. Everyone else clear the
room."
"Listen to me… I don't know what happened but I
know you couldn't hurt Shane. But why the hell did you
run?"
"I didn't know what else to do…" He swallowed. "I
don't know what to do now."
6
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Duchene
"Now, you face up to what's coming. I don't know
what that is but it will look good that you didn't fight us. I'm
not going to cuff you because as your friend I will show you
that respect but please don't make me regret this."
"Race? Race?"
Race shook his head to clear the memory and
looked around at Winston with a smile. "Yeah?"
"We're here! Come on!"
7
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Remmy
Duchene
Laird sat across the table from Xavier. Jose had left them for the night for some booty call in Century. The thought made Laird smile. He could remember his last booty call—three years ago. It just seemed he was too old for that kind of behavior. Taking a drink from his beer, he eased back into the seat and released a breath while Xavier peered at his phone, which had beeped. It was probably a call to head to the station.
"The station?" Laird questioned.
"Nah, just Salsa being a dick," Xavier replied.
Rajan entered the room and flopped down across
from Laird after pressing a kiss to Xavier's lips. The two had been dating for so long, it just seemed normal to have Xavier around.
"Laird, I wanted to talk to you about something."
Laird leaned forward. "Sounds serious. What's up?"
"I was offered a role in a TV show that's being developed by a major production company right now. It's a brilliant idea but I don't know if I can carry a whole series.
We both know how finicky television viewers are and if it gets less than three million viewers, it gets cancelled."
"I told him to take a chance," Xavier pointed out. "I
8
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Duchene
mean, his first English-speaking movie did so well they're talking sequel. How bad could it be?"
"X is right you know," Laird said.
Xavier laughed. "I never get tired of hearing that."
Rajan tossed a peanut at him with a grin.
"What's the show about?" Laird questioned.
"It's a detective show—the detective went through some kind of trauma in the military and for some reason he can't remember anything. But he's good at his job…
apparently every season there will be some major
recollection or danger from his past that will cause everything to spiral out of control."
"Makes sense." Laird nodded.
"That's one idea…" Rajan got up to open the fridge.
When he sat again, he had a bowl of grapes in his hand.
"The second idea is about an elite SWAT team…"
"Like the SIU?" Laird reached for a handful of the cold grapes.
"No. This team operates under the radar… they can go across borders… The reason why I'm so hesitant is this would be filmed in Canada. I'll be gone eight months out of the year."
"He's worried about me," Xavier said. "Like I said to you before, take a chance, baby. I am a big boy—I can visit you. You can come home. I'm not going anywhere so
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when you wrap and come home, I'll be here."
Rajan smiled.
"I say do it, Raj. I'm pretty sure when Sav and Jamal come back they'll tell you the same thing. Go and do this television show. It'll be something to make you work while you're not in India. And you always said you wanted to branch out."
Their conversation continued, slowly deviating
from Rajan's decision to Savaro as they wandered from the kitchen to the living room. Savaro and Jamal had taken their thirteen-year-old son, along with his high school soccer team and cheerleaders, to Brazil for some kind of championship. They didn't exactly take them—Jamal and Savaro were the chaperone parents for the games. Laird suddenly felt as though he was missing something in his life. He ran his hand over his bearded face. It'd been a couple of days since he'd shaved. He didn't really see the point.
"I didn't notice it before but you look like a hobo,"
Rajan joked.
"Yeah, bite me." Laird lifted his beer to his lips to hide a smirk.
"You've been quiet, Laird," Xavier said, reaching over to drop a kiss to Rajan's head. "You all right?"
"I don't know," Laird replied. He took a drink from his beer before lifting his eyes to his brother's boyfriend.
"Lately something doesn't seem right and I can't put my finger on it."
"Ah yes… the famous paranoia us Anatolis men are so famous for," Rajan said.
"You're an ass, you know that?" Laird couldn't help his smile though.
Rajan took a dramatic breath before reaching over to grab Laird's hand.
"Don't be afraid, Laird Anatolis! And if you see a bright, white light, just stay away from it."
Xavier burst out laughing as his pager went off.
Laird knew what it meant—the SWAT team captain had to go. Smiling, he held out a fist to Xavier. When it was bumped he watched his brother kiss Xavier goodbye, and soon they were alone in the house.
"Seriously, what's wrong?" Rajan asked.
Laird shrugged. "When I know that, I'll let you know."
"Do you need to get laid? Because I could hook you up with…"
"No! No hook-ups. I can get laid all by myself.
There's more to it, you know?"
Rajan nodded. "All right, when you're ready to talk to me, I'm right here."
Laird smiled and nodded. "It's just, lately I've been off. You've seen it. Sav saw it. My game is all wobbly."
"Well, everyone is allowed a down day once in a while."
"It seems like my whole month has been down. It's irritating."
Rajan drank from his bottle. "I hear that. But don't push it. Things will feel better soon. If not, you can take a vacation."
"To where?"
"Timbuktu? No clue. Just breathe."
"What about Brydon?"
"You do like that kind of farming dealie." Rajan looked thoughtful. "You can go visit Winston. See what he's been up to lately. He did say he'd be happy to
have
you…" Rajan wiggled his brows.
Laird burst out laughing. "Stop being a pervert."
"Fine, but when Xavier comes knocking about why I'm no longer a freak you're going to have to give him some good answers."
Laird chuckled. "Besides, Winston's not my type and vice versa. I could use the break though."
Rajan nodded.
"All right, but I won't go until Jamal and Sav come back. You and Xavier need help babysitting Lee."
"Babysitting Lee? Brazil, remember?"
"Oh right. My bad." Laird burst out laughing. "I'll ask Winston."
Yet, long after Laird was alone again, he stood in the living room looking at their new family photo. It seemed like every other year they had to take a new one.
Someone new was brought into their family causing the image to change dramatically. This time Xavier stood proudly beside Rajan. Flipping off the light, Laird climbed the stairs, stripped down to his boxers, and went to bed. But sleep was elusive at best. No matter what he did, he just couldn't fall asleep. Finally, he pushed from the bed and walked over to the window. It had begun to rain at some point.
It was four thirty in the morning and he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He'd tried warm milk, counting sheep, watching tennis—nothing worked. Finally, he gave up and just sat there, staring aimlessly. For the past month and a half he'd found himself with a bad case of insomnia and was easily irritated. His brothers noticed it too—Rajan told him to sleep it off but how could he when he couldn't even get five minutes in. Laird rubbed a hand over his face and looked up just in time to see a streak of lightning flash across the sky. He waited for the boom. When the thunder finally came, it left Laird with a strange, pulsating feeling he reveled in.
When the rain stopped, it was just in time for the sun to raise its head over the trees behind the large house.
He waited until the rays warmed his face before taking a deep breath and pushing himself away from the window.
He was walking to the bathroom when he caught his eyes in the mirror. Stopping, he stared at his half-naked reflection with disgust. He needed a shave. It'd been years since he had that much hair on his face. It was unruly, as if he had been living under a rock for the past few days. Even that thought didn't make him want to lift a razor to his face though. With a groan, he continued to his original destination. Ignoring the urge to cover the mirror, he bent forward, turned on the tap, and cupped his hands
underneath the water. He splashed water on his face, turned the tap off, stripped off his boxers, and stepped into the shower. By the time he turned the shower on, he had his hair falling against his shoulders and his eyes pressed closed to alleviate the burning.
The shower did wonders for his body, and soon he
was in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of jeans and pouring steaming coffee into his favorite mug. Laird flipped on the television on the counter, not because he wanted to watch it, but because the house was just so damn quiet. While the television played, he opened the fridge trying to find something his stomach felt like accepting, but nothing grabbed his attention. He closed the fridge and glanced at the clock. It was barely six in the morning and it was his day off. The ringing telephone caught his attention and, after casting his eyes at the television in time to catch some girl shaking her ass at the camera, he shook his head and answered the phone.
"Yeah?"
"Laird? It's Winston."
Laird glanced up at the sky with an arched brow.
"Hey. I was talking to Raj about you last night."
Winston laughed. "You mean that sexy man with the gun let Raj out of his bed? For shame!"
"Down boy," Laird said with a chuckle. "
That sexy
man
has a gun. What's up?"
"I wanted to catch you before you got out for the day. I have a friend who's looking to buy a house over here.
He's got the money but not the patience for this kind of thing. I told him I know the best."
Laird was intrigued. "A friend? That I know?"
"Nope. Can you do it?"
"Well, I was just going to call you to see if I could visit for a small vacation. But taking on this friend of yours means I can't rest for a while."
"Who says you can't do both? He's staying with me right now and he seems to be crawling out of his skin to get his own place."
Laird took a breath and ran a hand over his hair. He held the strands against the back of his head before easing off his seat. Walking to the window, Laird rested his shoulder against the cool glass, debating if he wanted to take a working vacation. Finally he shrugged. "I'll do it. I can be in Brydon at some point this week. I'm watching over Anatolis while Sav is in Brazil."
"You're just making an excuse, you don't have to watch over Anatolis. There are plenty of people who can do that. What the hell is Sav doing in Brazil anyway?"
He was right for he'd already tried using that excuse and it was worked out that he could in fact leave for his vacation. The truth was Laird didn't know if he wanted to leave. With his mind searching for new reasons not to go and failing miserably, Laird took a breath. "His son has a soccer championship game over there. They'll be back in a couple of days."
"All right. I'll let him know."
"And Winston?"
"Yeah, boo?"
"Thanks for this."
Winston cleared his throat and Laird could hear him speaking to someone before returning to the phone. "You okay, Laird?"
"I don't know. That's why I needed the time at the ranch."
"Why didn't you say something? Look, I can find someone else and let you just rest."
"Nah. It's just one client. I can do it. I just don't know if there is a cure for what I am feeling right now."
"Well, when you get here we can talk…" Winston trailed off before yelling something muffled to someone.
"Sorry, Laird. I have to run. Call me before you come?"
"I will…"
Race wrapped some rope tightly around his wrist
and elbow, tugging it hard with a gloved hand. He watched the horse running around the corral. He hadn't realized there was a smile on his lips until he shifted his neck to look down at the end of the rope. Inhaling deeply, he pulled the rope off his arm then tied the end so that it couldn't come untangled and chucked it over a post. Bending over, he gripped the handles tied to a bale of hay and walked it into the stalls. He dropped it in Beagle's stall then reached for a fork to spread it. Not so long ago, he wouldn't have wanted to do any of this—he hadn't wanted to work on a ranch. But after being locked up for so long, he'd choose working on a ranch to clear his head over being locked in a cell against his will any day.