School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,45

was healing, but… you know. A nice dinner. Something. A year. It’s a big deal for me.” He let out a little laugh. “I mean, you know, for one thing, I never expected to live this long.”

“It’s a big deal for me too,” Ellery said softly. “I never expected you to love me.”

“That’s just crazy talk right there,” Jackson said, eyes fiercely on the road. “I’m not sure why that would even enter your mind.”

“Gratitude,” Ellery murmured. “Thanks for small miracles to the powers that be.”

“I’m thankful for you too,” Jackson said, and Ellery’s hand on his knee grounded him, helped him navigate the tricky emotional waters they were both swimming. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that neither of them could fall apart now. He covered Ellery’s hand briefly with his own. “I’d be even more grateful if you could, I don’t know, maybe learn to frickin’ duck the next time somebody swings at you? Please? For me? Since we’re getting all sloppy about feelings right now?”

Ellery chuckled softly, and this time the silence, healing and thick with things they weren’t willing to say right now, stole over the car.

A Familiar Pond

ELLERY COULD think better once the ibuprofen worked, and those blissfully quiet moments in the car helped him gather his composure around him like a shield.

Of course, Jackson’s worry helped a little. Jackson hated people fussing over him because he was used to picking his own pieces up off the ground and sewing them together. He interpreted worry as criticism that he couldn’t do the job right. Ellery had been raised by loving—if frighteningly competent—parents who had taught him, in careful steps, how to care for himself and how to reach out for help if he needed it. Worry was part of the process, one that Ellery had once been afraid Jackson wasn’t capable of.

Turns out, Jackson could worry just fine if it was Ellery’s health involved, but that was okay. Ellery didn’t mind feeling cared for; that wasn’t one of his demons.

Hating to leave that kid in custody… well, that was.

Ellery had figured it out as they’d been walking through the corridors toward the infirmary. They’d passed three other prisoners being escorted by their own guard, and Ellery had seen a glance pass from the leader, a giant of a man with a shaved head and a scar slashing down the side of his face, to Tage, and for a moment he’d been worried.

Then he’d seen the outrage on the man’s face directed toward the guard at Ellery’s side, and he’d put together a few things.

He’d grilled the onsite medic within an inch of his life as they’d set Tage up in a small open-grilled infirmary cell for an overnight stay. Mayer had stood impassively at the door, eyes focused on Tage with an unhealthy ferocity.

And Ellery had feared for the young man’s life.

He’d gotten a promise from the medic—a burly man who had learned his trade in the military and who could probably take out an entire infantry unit and then doctor their wounds—and then allowed Mayer to escort him back.

But he hadn’t been silent, and his pointed questions had elicited… well, an expected response. Ellery had expected the guard to get hostile. He’d been planning to report the incident to Mayer’s superior as it was.

He hadn’t expected the violence, but Jackson had. Jackson’s instincts were a lot better for that sort of thing, and Ellery was grateful. Jackson got himself out of as many messes as he ended up in, and sometimes that was the only reason Ellery could let him, in good conscience, walk out the door.

“I liked that guard, though,” Jackson said out of the blue as they neared the sprawl of the Med Center complex. Ellery startled out of his own thoughts to respond.

“Codromac?”

“Yeah. After the police station, I’m telling you, watching that old guy was sexy. It was like competence porn right there.”

Ellery chuckled. “Glad to know that’s your kink. Was the police station really that bad?”

Jackson’s mouth thinned. “I… remember last year? We took out the bad guys and thought, ‘Hey, they have a clean slate!’”

“I do,” Ellery said, but his own mouth thinned. “They still treat you like crap.”

Jackson nodded. “Some of them. But we were right about those two officers who had Tage’s case. They were on top of it. They didn’t think the kid did it, they wanted to treat him like a victim, not a suspect, but their lieutenant, green, trying to prove something,