with children, I can’t promise that,” Cy joked, even though the idea made him a little sick.
“No, shut up. I need to tell you why I’m getting out tomorrow and why you’re getting out, too. But you probably won’t like it.”
“Okay,” Cy said warily.
He listened as Nicky explained what his program had found, what he discussed with the warden, what happened next. When he finished speaking, he asked, “Are you mad?”
Cy was stunned, confused, even a little betrayed, but…mad? “Mad that you traded our freedom for the lives of six hundred and forty-three others who were either wrongfully accused or received harsher sentences than they should have? What do you want me to say to that, Nicky?”
Nicky sat up on one elbow. “I want you to say that you trust me, that you trust that I have a plan where everybody gets exactly what they deserve. Can you do that?”
Cy sighed, looking up into Nicky’s crystal blue eyes. The truth was he’d follow Nicky into hell with no regrets. “I can do that.”
The look of relief on Nicky’s face soothed Cy’s frayed nerves. “Please, don’t get dead out there, Nicky. These are very dangerous people you’re playing with.”
Nicky gave Cy a chaste kiss on the mouth before snuggling closer. “Out there, I’m the dangerous one.”
Webster wasn’t one for being dramatic, but the feel of his real clothes, his watch on his wrist, the weight of his cell phone in his hand…it was enough to make him weep. He wanted to whip off his shoes and let his feet feel the grass. He wanted to stand outside and let the breeze blow through his hair. Every single thing he’d taken for granted for years seemed precious now.
Maybe it was leaving Cy that had him so emotional or maybe it was just tasting freedom once again. Either way, seeing Linc and Wyatt standing outside the prison, leaning against their car waiting for him, had him crashing into their arms, like they were reuniting after years instead of just weeks. He was grateful he didn’t cry. Wyatt would never let him live it down.
Wyatt didn’t put his seatbelt on once they were in the car. He got on his knees so he could peer at Webster over the back of his seat with wide eyes, taking in his bruises and black-framed glasses with something akin to horror. “Jesus, Webby. You look like dog shit, bro.”
“Wyatt!” Linc barked, making Webster smile.
Wyatt had spent years of his life being repressed by his politician father, and now, he had no filter. “What? Are we just going to ignore that he looks homeless?” Wyatt asked his husband, blinking up at the older man with mock innocence. Linc didn’t answer, just gave a long-suffering sigh. Wyatt seemed to clearly consider that a win as he turned back to Webster. “Are you really boning your brother? What’s he look like? How old is he? How did it all happen? Congrats on managing to be the only guy in prison who actually got to have the kind of sex he wanted, by the way.”
“Jesus Christ,” Linc muttered to himself, but Webster laughed.
It was such a relief to be out in the world without chains or guards or the fear of being raped and murdered. “I’ll tell you everything after I’ve showered and shaved and put on comfortable clothes and maybe rolled around on my mattress for a while. I’m sure it’s missed me as much as I’ve missed it.”
Wyatt’s gaze stuttered to Linc and back again in a way that made Webster suspicious. “What? Please, don’t tell me my apartment burned down. I can’t handle it.”
Wyatt winced. “No, it’s not that. When you were arrested, they ransacked your apartment, probably looking for your laptop.”
Webster’s laptop had been on his desk at Elite when they arrested him. It never occurred to him to question why they hadn’t taken it right then. “Why didn’t they just take my laptop then?”
Linc glanced at him from the rearview mirror. “I stalled them, told them that it wasn’t your laptop. That it was Elite’s and it contained proprietary information and that we had to speak to our attorneys before they could have it. They assumed you must have a personal laptop at your apartment. When they went to search for that, I switched out your laptop for another one we had.”
“You switched out my laptop before you knew I wasn’t hacking the FBI? You were going to withhold evidence in a federal case…for me?” Webster