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Jack tried to concentrate on rehashing what had happened at the scene, but with Gray sitting across from him, all he could think of was what if everyone at the station knew he and Gray were lovers and that Mason was with them as well. Would Roberson even listen to his story? Would his opinions mean as much? Would Gray’s? Would he ever get a chance to be a detective if that was what he wanted?
“A little focus would be nice. We’re trying to solve a murder here, a murder that’s blown the lid off a major operation we’ve been working on for months.”
Jack blinked and looked up at Roberson. He must have zoned out worse than he’d realized. “Sorry. I’m just…really tired.”
“So are the rest of us, and we won’t be getting any sleep anytime soon, especially if we never get through your report.” He looked over at Gray. “Go talk to the new boy, What’s His Name.”
“Huck,” Jack supplied.
Roberson ignored him. “See if he saw anything Officer Abney here missed.”
By the time Roberson questioned him multiple times about every last detail of the evening, Mason had left for work and Gray had headed to the crime scene. When he got home, Jack barely stayed awake long enough to shower and brush his teeth before falling in bed, alone.
Footsteps stomped onto the porch, and Jack heard the jangle of keys. Gray was finally home, hours after he’d expected him to be. Jack put down the comic book he’d been reading. Masonhad given it to him after watching him pace and channel surf. Apparently, Jack’s boredom was keeping Mason from studying effectively. At least now, Jack could reheat the enchiladas he’d made for dinner and talk to Gray a little while he ate.
Gray slammed the door behind him, and the dark scowl on his face told Jack he wasn’t going to be very good company. Three days had passed since Jack and Huck had shown up at the murder scene, and Gray and Roberson still had nothing but rumors to go on. The bust that had been in the works since before Gray got his detective shield could go tits up if they didn’t figure out who’d picked off their target’s competition. The obvious suspects didn’t appear to be involved.
“What happened?” Jack asked.
“Not now,” Gray barked. He stomped into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. After downing a good portion of it, he sank onto a stool at the bar and rested his head on his hands.
Jack slid the pan of enchiladas into the oven, hoping Gray’s mood would improve once he ate.
“Talk to us, Gray,” Mason said. He closed the enormous textbook he’d been studying from and joined Jack and Gray in the kitchen.
“This fucking sucks. The guy we need to talk to has vanished without a trace, and even if we find him, there’s almost no chance he’ll cooperate. We’ve got nothing solid to use as leverage on him, and I’m just going in circles.”
Mason rubbed Gray’s shoulders and kissed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry things are so rough for you right now.”
Gray nodded. “Yeah, me too. Now go study. I don’t need to feel guilty about making you neglect your work.”
“Yes, sir,” Mason said in a mocking tone.
Gray swatted Mason’s ass as he walked away, seeming to have cheered up a bit, but Jack had known him long enough to see that he’d just pushed his frustration away. Something else was bothering Gray. He often got pissed off when he had a bad day at work, but he could usually vent and get over it. Tonight he was edgy, like he might explode if Jack said the wrong thing. That always meant he was hiding something.
“You hungry?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, could you bring me a plate? I want to look a few things up, see if I can find a new angle.”
“You’ve been at work for twelve hours. Can’t you take a break long enough to eat dinner?” The words came out bitchier than Jack meant for them to.
Gray scowled at him. “Not until this case breaks.”
“You’ll just get another case.” Why was Jack doing this now? Gray wasn’t going to give an inch in the mood he was in.
“Fuck, Jack. I don’t need you giving me shit.”
Jack should have apologized and let Gray go do his research, but he’d had a suckass shift the night before, and he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. He’d been spit at by a druggie, someone had slashed the tires on his patrol car, and he’d been called to the scene of a gruesome car wreck. He wanted to come home, wrap himself around his men, and forget all about it. Instead he’d ended up sleeping alone, then watching Mason study.
“I just think it would be nice if you spent a few minutes with me before going back to work.”
“I’m sorry,” Gray said in a tone that indicated he was anything but. “Detectives have to work until the case is solved. It’s not like patrol where you go home when your shift’s over.”
Anger rose up in Jack, burning hot. Gray had been a detective for a little over a month, and he was already acting like a douche about it. Fuck that.
“Yeah, we guys on the street have it so easy, don’t we?” Shock showed on Gray’s face. Jack rarely raised his voice, but this time, he didn’t hold back. He let his anger out in full force. “How many damn times did we stay after the end of shift or work a double, huh? My day was shit too, and thanks for asking.”
“I’ve only been at this a few weeks. I’ve got a lot to learn, and I’m not going to slack off just because you want me to come home and baby you.”
