And then Morten’s mother had died.He had been left alone, which was apparently a bad thing.All that repressed self-loathing, all that screaming id, none of the social skills that some decent parenting might have given him, and Morten was abducting his favorite candy from buses and—now that the nearly vacant walkup was all his—he was doing with them what he wanted.
Greta was the nearly naked victim who had escaped from an impossibly small window, gone screaming into the alley, and—fortunately for her—straight into Gail Pearson’s arms.She’d needed sedation and clothes and to be treated for everything from dehydration to the consequences of being violently assaulted for several weeks without aftercare.
She was currently on twenty-four-hour watch, with a seasoned rape counselor crocheting in her room and another one prepared to take her shift.
Maybe in a couple of weeks, the SCTF would interview her to finish their paperwork, but that was going to wait until she was well enough to talk.
When she was, they’d tell her what they’d told Tasha and Arietty when they’d asked about the fate of one Morten D.Johns.
Gideon’s shot to Johns’s forehead had killed him immediately, but even if it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have survived the three-story headfirst fall.And even if he had, when the airbag had been deployed on top of the body, it had broken every bone he possessed in the series of mini explosions that activated the giant airbag in seconds.
So Morten D.Johns had been a grotesque raping monster, but he was dead now.Very, very dead.And they would do their best to make sure his surviving victims would grow up to live their best lives.Johns would not be mourned.
Tasha, Arietty, and Greta would becelebrated.
It wasn’t great comfort at the moment, but hopefully someday it would help.
And then it was time to return to HQ and fill out their action reports.Gideon would be on desk duty for a week or two while his use of force was investigated, but Harding had sort of a magic touch for pushing that paperwork through.
It helped that he tended to recruit assassin (or assassin-adjacent) personalities for his task force, though.The odds of one more kill pinging Gideon’s conscience were slim to none.Gideon wasn’t losing any sleep over Johns’s death—he knew that for a fact.
That moment Johns raised the knife over Carlyle’s head, however?
Oh yeah.That would be waking him up in a cold sweat for a long, long time.
After a few hours of paperwork, Gideon asked to check out a vehicle and said he’d drive himself and Carlyle home.No big deal—he’d done this before.
But Carlyle knew something was up.
“What’s up?”he asked, sounding uncertain, a rarity for him.
“Nothing,” Gideon said shortly.
“Are you really going to take me to my apartment?”he asked cagily.
“Not a fucking chance,” Gideon replied calmly.He hadn’t even had to think about that one.
“I’ll walk home,” Joey said, like he was trying to be nonchalant.
“Funny you would think so.”Gideon’s voice sounded strange to his own ears.Disassociated.Detached.“I don’t see that happening.”
“Gid?”
Gideon heard it then—a tremble.An uncertainty.Knowing what he did about Joey’s father, Gideon had to take a deep breath and pull up the words to reassure them both.
“We’re almost there,” he said.His place had paid parking, and they’d left early enough for Gideon to have a spot.“I’ve got food in the fridge.”He did—lunch meat, some tomatoes and onions, pickles and condiments.Bread, even.
But neither of them was dependent on food.
Gideon was aware of the nervous glances Joey cast in his direction as they tromped up the stairs, and a part of him was thinking,This isn’t smart.This is so not smart.You were going to dance.You were going to let him seduce you.Let him choose.
He can choose.But he needs to know what he’s choosing.
They got through the door, and Joey said, “Gid?”and Gideon whirled him around, his back to the door, and held him there, their breath mingling, his hands shaking on Joey Carlyle’s shirt.
“You terrified me,” he hissed, and for a moment, he thought Joey was going to try it, that sly grin, that “The danger is the joke!”smile.
But Joey swallowed instead.“You had my back,” he said softly.
