Page 8 of Newly Tied

I took a breath and lunged, and he wrapped me up. I couldn’t remember ever being held that tight, and I got lost in that feeling of homecoming. But then suddenly I started thinking the embrace was going on too long—we were on a sidewalk, after all—and maybe he was getting embarrassed. But it was like he read my mind and only clutched me tighter, inhaled deeply, and said that everything was going to be all right.

Amazingly, it was.

And he held on until I let go.

These days, six months in, it hardly happened anymore. Some of it was because Lang had insisted I see someone, and my therapist, Dr. Butler, who it turned out had gone to the same undergrad college as me, was helping. Also, there were things I knew for certain that made me confident in who I was. Like, I was damn good at my job, a better, more loyal friend would be hard to find, and people could count on me to always show up for them. And of course, Lang never missed an opportunity to remind me how lucky I was to have him in my life.

I really didn’t need to be told.

“Do you guys need some time alone?” Vargas asked with a leer in his voice, and I was reminded that I was there, in the present, at work, with a fugitive watching me. It would be wildly inappropriate for anyone to see me and Lang hugging.

Perhaps.

The thing was, life-and-death jobs sometimes produced oddly timed comfort moments, and more importantly, Lang always had a way of making what seemed strange feel perfectly normal. It was one of his many gifts.

“If you value your life,” Lang began icily, “think before you speak.”

Vargas shut up, which was not surprising. At six-two, built powerful and strong, with a glare that made bigger men squirm, Langston Ross was not a man to be tested. Far better to stay on his good side.

I felt the weight lift from my heart and found my voice. “I’m okay,” I husked.

But still he held on until I took another breath and let my arms drop. When he finally stepped back, I saw the grin that brought out his dimples which never failed to make me smile in return.

“You got all messed up thinking about when we first got to be partners, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, always amazed when he knew whatever the impetus had been.

He nodded. “It’s because of fuckin’ Pazzi.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because just like when you saved the girl and Hawkins didn’t have your back, today Pazzi questioned you, and then he and Yamane didn’t back us up.”

That quickly, everything made sense. “You ever worry that I’ll screw up when we’re out and not be there for you when you need me?”

The incredulous look I got made me laugh.

“You only get up in your head when we’re not doing something,” he reminded me. “You’re a hundred percent focused when we’re out there on the street.” He gestured at Vargas. “How else do you think you were able to keep pace with this asshole for five blocks? That’s training and cardio, yes, but it’s also focus.”

I was distracted. “I ran five blocks?”

“Yeah.”

“How can it be five?”

“Because I bet you didn’t count the third intersection where you almost got hit by the motorcycle and the minivan.”

“Oh, that’s right. The yellow minivan.”

He grunted.

“Five blocks,” I announced with a flourish. “Okay, there needs to be beer and pizza for that.”

He shook his head.

“What? Why not?”

“You know why not,” he replied like it was painful.