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“Damn it. I know I left it here this morning. You sure you haven’t seen it?” Dex scratched his head, then waved a hand in dismissal. “Forget it. I don’t need it. I’ll call you later.” Dex headed for the door so lost in thought, he hadn’t even remembered to kiss Sloane good-bye.

“All right, that’s it. I can’t take this bullshit anymore. Get your ass back here,” Sloane growled.

Dex turned with a deep frown on his face. “Excuse me?”

“I know everything, Dex. I know about your Batcave in Lou’s basement, the stakeouts, Bautista, the ballroom, Seb, everything.”

“It was Ash, wasn’t it?” Dex curled his fists at his sides. “I knew he was narcing on me.”

“No, he was being honest, unlike you. How could you look me in the eye every day and lie to me, over and over?”

Dex opened his mouth, and Sloane quickly held a hand up.

“And don’t you dare tell me you did it for me, or you didn’t want to worry me. You lied. I asked you not to go after Hogan, and not only did you completely ignore me, you lied about what you were doing. You brought the team into it, your brother. Seb? Jesus, the guy just got his career back, Dex.”

“You of all people should understand why. I almost lost you!” Dex’s pale blues eyes pleaded, but Sloane stood his ground.

“So you run around the city like you’ve got a death wish, throwing yourself into the line of fire, without so much as the proper equipment? You work yourself ragged, sleeping on a goddamn couch in your ex’s basement living off sugar and caffeine? I understand how important this is—”

“Do you? Because if you did, you’d be supporting me. It’s my job.”

Sloane grabbed his crutch and pulled himself to his feet. “No, it’s our job, because we’re part of a fucking team. It’s not the Dexter Daley show. You don’t get to run around doing whatever the hell you want, flash your smile, and then expect everything to turn out okay. Because while it may turn out okay for you, the rest of us have to run around behind you picking up your shit and making sure you don’t get yourself fucking killed.”

Dex stormed farther into the room. “What the fuck? Since when? Is that how you feel? That you have to run around behind me picking up after me? Babysitting me like I’m some fucking asshole who doesn’t know his left from his right? Am I that much of a shitty partner?”

Sloane shook his head. This wasn’t going at all like he’d hoped. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then don’t make it sound that way. I might act like the class clown, but I’m a damn good agent. No, I don’t always follow the rules, but sometimes to get results, the rules have to be broken.”

“Oh my God, how can you say that? You were arguing with Ash against the same thing weeks ago!”

“I have to go. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Dex, stop.” Sloane couldn’t let him walk out of there. His desperation got the better of him, and he didn’t think, stepping forward with his right leg instead of his left. His leg gave out, and he went crashing onto the carpet.

“Sloane!” Dex rushed over and dropped to his knees beside him, his arms embracing him and helping him sit up. “Damn it. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking, ‘I can’t let him leave. I can’t watch him walk out the door for what could be the last time.’ I was thinking I need to do whatever it takes.”

“For what?”

“To keep you with me.” Sloane took hold of Dex’s arm, needing someone so badly it hurt.

“I’ll call Ash—”

Frustration, anger, and something else he couldn’t explain bubbled up inside him, erupting furiously. “I don’t want Ash, goddammit. I want you! I fucking love you!”

Dex stared at him, and Sloane realized what he’d said. He swallowed hard, allowing Dex to help him to his feet and over to the couch where he sat down, trying to get his thoughts and emotions under control. Inside him, his Felid roared and clawed to get free, and Sloane could feel him. Could feel him trying to tear through, to claim Dex and show him the raw need he had for him. His eyesight sharpened, and he felt Dex’s hand on his cheek as he murmured soft words.

“Hey, it’s okay. Tell him it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sloane didn’t know how Dex knew, though it was likely his pupils had dilated. He breathed deeply and exhaled slowly.

“Is it true? What you said? Because if it’s to make me stay—”

“I

t’s not to make you stay,” Sloane snapped. “Do you really think I would say something like that to make you stay? I can’t make you do anything, Dex. No one can make you do anything because you’re fucking Dexter J. Daley, and no one makes you do shit you don’t want to do. No one can stop you from doing what you want. I’ve seen you beat up, bloodied, bruised, shattered, at the mercy of a madman, and goddamn it, I can’t—” His words caught in his throat, and he let out a shaky breath. “I know the job is dangerous. But for you to go out looking to face a force you can’t handle on your own. To disregard your safety when there are plenty of capable agents to do the job…. Fuck you. Fuck you for putting yourself before the rest of us. Before your dad, and your brother, and me.”

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