School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,114
was assisting the second cop—probably Fetzer’s partner, Hardison—into the back, and then he swung into the front passenger side himself, and Fetzer gunned the engine, taking them all out of the camera’s reach and hopefully to safety.
“Not on a dare,” she retorted but didn’t wait for a response. “Ellery, what in the hell was he doing there?”
“Getting the Dobrevks out,” Ellery told her. “Apparently our, uh, friends down south blew up Alexei Kovacs tonight, and I know you don’t know who that is, but—”
“He’s Dima Siderov’s rival,” Jade said promptly.
“Wow.”
“I’ve been researching!” she defended. “So the gangs blew up, and the Dobrevks were vulnerable. Either side would want them dead.”
“Pretty much,” Ellery agreed. “So Tage’s cousin called Jackson to go help and….” He made a helpless sound. “And he did.”
Jade’s own helpless sound gave him a little bit of heart. “And he’s fine,” she said softly.
“He’s going to have a hell of a bruise,” he muttered. “We saw it. He was hit.”
“But did you see him?” she said, and then her voice pitched to beyond the phone. “Good choice in tactical gear, honey. That served him really well!”
“Ask Ellery if I can buy him some more. That shit’s expensive!” Jade’s boyfriend, Mike, was nothing if not pragmatic.
“Tell him sure,” Ellery mumbled on the phone just as it buzzed in his hand. “Wait, that’s Jackson.” He switched over the calls, Jackson’s rough, breathless timbre sending a wave of relief that took him out at the knees.
“Got the Dobrevks,” Jackson said briskly. “On our way to Sascha’s now. Didn’t want you to worry.”
Ellery burst into a cackle of semihysterical laughter then, and Jackson crooned softly, “It’s okay, baby. I’m fine. Safe as a kitten the whole time.”
And Ellery couldn’t stop laughing, not even when Jackson had to end the call.
But the phone call must have done something for him, because by the time Jackson got home, he was asleep on the couch, wrapped in one of the afghans that had survived the trip from Jackson’s original duplex to Ellery’s house. It was a bright amalgam of colors, clashy as hell, and warmer and softer than it looked.
Billy Bob was cuddled up to his chest, purring like a champion, the subtle vibration working soporific magic.
“C’mon, Ellery, time to go to a real bed.”
“Mm….” Ellery uncurled reluctantly and allowed Jackson to remove the cat and guide him to their bed for what was left of the night. “Everyone safe? Kittens out of trees? Tage’s parents hidden?”
“Yeah. We’re all okay.”
“Sure you are. Strip.”
Jackson made a hurt sound. “Uhm, didn’t we already do that?”
Ellery was suddenly very, very awake. “Take off your Kevlar and your clothes and lie on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms defensively—and winced.
“Who told?” he asked, squaring his shoulders—and wincing again.
“You were on the news, Jackson. And while covering the plates with mud was a good idea, after tomorrow I wouldn’t drive the Tank again anytime soon. Now stop arguing and go lie down. We have to be up in three hours, and it would be great if you got some sleep.”
Ellery came back into the room with some aloe-and-arnica gel, a couple of ice packs, and some ibuprofen and water—and he was still not prepared for the extent of the bruising on Jackson’s back, or the blood seeping through the bandages along the outside of his upper thigh.
“Irritating man,” he muttered, setting his supplies aside and handing Jackson the ibuprofen.
“Sorry,” Jackson mumbled, sounding half asleep already. He swallowed the pills with a gulp of water before turning back to rest his head on the pillow, hands under his cheek. “Thank you for not leaving me.”
Ellery’s breath caught, and he lowered his head and kissed Jackson’s shoulder, which was about the only part of his back not sporting a swelling black bruise.
“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” he said softly, rubbing the topical gingerly on his back, trying to soothe and not irritate. “Thank you for only going when it mattered, and not out of pride.”
“Mm…,” Jackson murmured in response to Ellery’s hands. “Is that what it was?”
“That made you want to be in the thick of it? Yes. Partly. You like to have control, Jackson. Being in the middle of the violence makes you feel like you can contain it, I think. Keep it from getting to the people you care about.”