Page 146 of Too Close To Home

Jake shrugged. “What did he ask?”

Brodie searched his face, then went all casual again. As if the act of being questioned for the second time wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. “About Andy. Same as before. I remembered we’d spoken. He was asking about the staff. Emily.” Brodie stepped closer. “I reckon you were right, y’know.”

It wasn’t any comfort. Not when two girls had endured…whatever it was Andy might have put them through. Knowing it didn’t erase it. Didn’t bring back the last thirteen years of his life. Of Robyn’s life. Teddy’s life.

Brodie smiled. “You should be pleased.”

“Pleased? About what? Doing three years inside for him? Him not getting caught the first time? Him maybe having done it again?”

“Exactly.” Brodie ran a hand down Jake’s chest. “You were right. That counts for something. Could probably even get compensation out of it. Get out of this shit hole.”

Jake scoffed, then shoved past him towards the stairs.

“Hey—wait.”

Jake turned at the bottom, irritation flaring. “Look, Brodie… I don’t know how much clearer I can be.” He gestured between them. “This? It’s getting out of hand, mate. We had a few good months, aye. It was… alright. But it’s done. Over.”

Brodie stilled on the step above him, fiddling with the lid of the coffee cup. “I know you, Jake. You always come back. You like to play around. That’s fine. I can deal with that.” He came down the last step, closing the space, reaching up to cup Jake’s jaw. “But you and me? We’re good together. You know that. Filthy and fun. That’s us. And once all this is sorted, once Andy’s dealt with, you won’t have anything hanging over you anymore.” Hs stroked a thumb over Jake’s lips. “You’ll be free. You can get out of here. Go on tour. Festival circuit. Either with the band or find a new one. I’ll be your roadie.”

Jake grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. “No, Brode. I’m done.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Aye. I do.” Jake turned, heading for his van and unlocking it.

Had Deacon had this with Ivy? Had she worn him down with things like this, too? Was it simply a case of being the bloke in the band? Cause he sure as fuck knew he and Brodie had nothing in common to warrant this much attention from him. And right then, he wondered if he’d stayed with Neon Arcade if this sort of thing would’ve been the regular? Expected. Normal. Fans instead of one bloke. People grabbing, taking, assuming. Maybe that was a lucky escape then. One bloke, he could handle. A crowd of them vying for his attention? Maybe not.

Not when he currently only had one man on his mind.

“Is there someone else?” Brodie called after him, probably having read the room for once.

Jake paused his ascent into his driver’s seat, then glanced back. Maybe that would work? So he said, “Aye.”

Brodie frowned. “Who?”

“Not your business.”

“Is it the detective?” Brodie cocked his head. “The one who makes house calls?”

Jake’s face gave him away before he could stop it. “They all make house calls. It’s part of the job.”

“Not as thorough as yours though, aye?” Brodie scoffed, forceful and violent. “I didn’t do all this so you could start fucking a detective.”

Jake fell back down to the ground and slowly turned back. “What did you say?”

Brodie clenched his jaw, then waved a hand. “This. Bringing you breakfast. Looking out for you. I’m doing it because we belong together.”

“No, we don’t, Brode.” Jake then climbed into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine.

“Fuck sake!” Brodie shouted at him. “I can be owt you want!”

Jake met his gaze through the window, then drove off, tyres spitting gravel, with an uncomfortable knot in his chest.

* * * *

Harrison sat in the incident room, the exhibits spread across the table in front of him. Bagged, labelled, logged. The search team had done a thorough job of Andy Mitchell’s flat, his car, and a lock-up at the back of the building.

On paper, it looked promising.