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Dropping onto the sofa across from Quinn’s desk, Dom sipped his coffee to hide his smile from the other man. Quinn was so easily flustered. He was also a workaholic, but that had been easing since he’d started dating Shane. Quinn was suddenly finding it easier to step away from work at the end of the day if it meant heading straight into the arms of his man.
“Royce already been through?” Dom asked. He hadn’t seen the security agent downstairs, and it had become part of their routine for them to sit in Quinn’s office and chat for a few minutes over coffee before heading to their respective tasks.
“Not that I’ve seen. He’s probably sleeping in. I heard that he’s got the overnight shift for the Elrige case tonight.” The mention of the movie star had Quinn spinning in his seat to face Dom. “So? What’s the deal? Is he cool or a total dick?”
“Really?” Dom dropped his head back and cackled. “You’re going to fanboy over Trent? We’ve guarded other celebrities before.”
“Yeah, but no one as big as Trent Elrige. I love his movies! The Second Stain. The Red-Headed League. Silver Blaze. He’s awesome. I’m just afraid that he’s a total asshole.”
“You can rest easy, Q-Man. Trent’s a pretty cool guy. Maybe a little lonely, when you consider all the people who just want to use him for his money or fame.”
A slow grin spread across Quinn’s lips. “Does this mean someone has finally tempted you away from that guy you’ve been chasing the past eight months? Ready to give up?”
“Not a chance,” Dom said firmly. “Trent’s a great guy, but he’s not my type.”
Quinn laughed. “I thought your type was sexy and willing.”
Dom just shrugged. Maybe he had slept around a lot over the past several years, but that changed the minute he met Abe. He couldn’t get the man out of his head. “People change. Maybe my type is now sexy and stubborn.” Really fucking stubborn.
“Good luck with stubborn,” a low voice drawled from the open doorway. They both looked up to see Hollis Banner standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and his mouth twisted in a smirk. “But it makes for fun times when it comes to convincing a guy to see your way of things.”
Dom snickered, getting over his surprise at seeing the private investigator at Ward Security. He popped by on occasion to talk to Rowe, Noah, and Andrei. Or when he wanted to “borrow” Ward’s IT team to dig into something. Considering that he was standing in Quinn’s doorway, Dom was willing to guess it was the latter.
“I’m telling Ian you said that,” Dom teased, earning a growl from Hollis. Ian Pierce was close friends with Rowe and probably just as stubborn as his friends. But he was also one of the best chefs in the entire city, so everyone tried to stay on his good side. Of course, Hollis undoubtedly had his sneaky ways since he was engaged to Ian.
Quinn stretched in his seat, trying to see around Hollis’s large frame.
“Easy, Quinn. Shane didn’t come with me. He’s on another job.”
Quinn slumped in his chair, glancing back at the email he had open. The poor guy had it bad for his boyfriend, not that Dom could blame him. Shane was a nice guy, cared a great deal for Quinn, and wasn’t bad to look at. Of course, Dom had to wonder how nice he would stay if he found out that he was trying to get into his daddy’s pants.
“But I was hoping that you could take a look at something for a friend of mine. Maybe run it through one of your fancy databases,” Hollis continued.
“I figured you wanted something. Who’s the friend?” Quinn asked.
“Detective Martin for CPD,” Hollis said. “We worked together a little. She’s good. Smart. Fair. But she found something that’s got her stumped.”
“Sure. Whatcha got?”
Hollis pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on it for a couple of seconds before shoving it back into his pocket. “Just emailed the image over to you. It was taken on the side of Carrington Jewelers downtown. They have some kind of show or display coming in with jeweled crocodile handbags, so they’re understandably skittish already.”
An email popped up on Quinn’s screen and he quickly opened it. Clicking on the attachment, the large monitor was filled with the image of a red brick wall. Written in chalk about a foot tall were four distinct images.Dom was relieved he’d put his mug of coffee down on the little table beside the sofa because he would have likely dropped the hot coffee into his lap. The chalk characters…he’d not seen them in more than a decade. Not since he’d run from his brother.
A cold sweat broke out across his body, and his heart slammed against his chest. Fuck. His brother was in town. His fucking psycho brother was in town. Or his father, but he doubted that the old man was still alive. His brother was enough. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run. To run as fast as he could. Don’t look back. Don’t think. Just run.
