Page 45 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

Benito pursed his lips and nodded. “After tonight, they’ll have to.”

Jason gazed at the detective. Benito was genuine. He wanted to truly believe that Blyham police would treat the case more seriously now. Maybe they would, for a day or so at least, maybe until the end of the week. How much faith could he put in Benito, anyway? Just because he was gay it didn’t mean he was an ally to the community. As a Detective Sergeant, he was embedded in the institutionally homophobic Blyham force.

“How’s the investigation going into Dan’s murder? Any suspects? Any arrests?”

“I’m not on that team.”

“Of course you’re not. And yet we both know the answer to those questions is no.” Jason sighed and put his forearm over his eyes again. The light sensitivity was crippling. The doctor he’d spoke to earlier had told him it could last up to forty-eight hours. “Just leave me alone. I’ve told you all I can for tonight. All I care about right now is knowing Marc is okay.”

“I need to know what you’ve discovered about Theo’s death,” Benito said insistently.

“Then get a fucking warrant. Marc is my client, not Blyham police. I’m already doing your damn job for you. If you want to know who is responsible for this, put some genuine fucking manpower into the investigation instead of your bullshit lip service.”

Chapter Seventeen

Recovery

On Sunday it rained again.

Marc sat on the sofa in the living room of Jason’s apartment, gazing absent-mindedly at the water that streaked the glass of the balcony door. His left arm, encased in plaster from hand to elbow, was propped up on a cushion on the arm of the sofa. Jason had pulled the coffee table closer so he could elevate his feet too.

Marc had been discharged from hospital that morning and hadn’t wanted to go home. He hadn’t told his family about what happened on Friday evening and wanted a place to lie low for a couple of days until he felt better. He would go see them on Monday or Tuesday when he’d had a chance to think of how best to break the news. To tell them what he’d been doing, about Theo’s lifestyle and how he had almost succumbed to the same fate beneath the wheels of a maniac driver.

It was shitty of him to keep them in the dark, but he needed to process it himself, before he dealt with anyone else’s reaction.

Jason was in the bedroom, on the phone to his business partner Ryman. Jason had also managed to keep the details of their near-death encounter to himself so far, but owed it to Ryman to fill him in. Marc hoped Ryman went easy on him. Jason had been through enough already.

He’d tried to take care of Marc, fussing around when he’d arrived at the apartment that morning, but Jason needed time to recover himself. He was in pain. Marc caught the way his mouth pinched, or brow tightened, whenever he tried to stand, or put too much weight on his sprained ankle.

Despite everything, they had been lucky. They were still alive to continue the investigation. To find the bastard responsible for Theo’s death.

The bedroom door opened, and Jason limped into the living room. He held a hand across his injured ribs. The shadows beneath his eyes were deep.

“How did it go?” Marc asked.

Jason gripped the back of the armchair for support. “He’s glad we’re both okay, but oh boy, is he pissed.”

“You could have been killed.”

“He knows that. But he also knows I broke the golden rule. Never get into a relationship with a client.”

“It’s too late to change that now.”

“It doesn’t stop him being mad about it.”

“He can’t fire you. You’re full partners, right?”

Jason gave a weary sigh. “He wants to take over your case. He says I can’t continue when I have a personal interest in the investigation.”

Marc shuffled to the edge of the sofa and rose carefully. “I’m the client. I’m paying for the case. I want you, not Ryman.”

“He’ll have calmed down by tomorrow. He’s just shocked to find out about us. I have no intention of stepping aside, but it might not be a bad idea for him to join us. We’re getting closer. We could use his help.”

Marc moved in behind him. He put a light hand on Jason’s waist, careful not to hurt him. Though it was only his rib that was broken, Jason was bruised all over. Marc hadn’t seen the full extent yet, but the bruises that showed on his arms and neck were severe enough. He leaned close and brushed his lips across his ear.

“Is that a good idea? We could be putting him in danger too,” he asked.

“The sooner we catch this bastard, the sooner we put an end to it.”

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