Page 2 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

Henry looked young—sounded young most times as well—but he’d survived domestic abuse, and he’d been to war. Something about those experiences gave him weight when he confessed to feeling the same.

“It’s… it’s nothing I can do anything about,” Jackson murmured. “It’s not even anything I’d change if I could. But it scares me when I think of who I’ve failed and how badly I don’t want to fail Ellery.”

Henry let out a long sigh. “Help, I’ve been shot,” he said without heat or passion—or truth, since his character on the screen wasn’t engaged in anything remotely warlike at the time.

But probably with accuracy, Jackson reflected. Henry had betrayed his sister, and whether he’d done it willingly or had been blackmailed, bullied, and threatened into it, he wasn’tgoing to let himself off the hook that easily. But he could make his peace with it.

Jackson had to do the same.

“You’re a great kid,” Jackson murmured, feeling—wonder of all wonders—tired.

“I’m almost thirty, moron,” Henry muttered, prickly as always. He set his remote down and yawned, and Lucifer, who’d always loved Henry best, made an awkward leap into Henry’s lap, crashing on his missing foreleg and doing a faceplant into Henry’s thigh. Henry stroked the cat’s smooth black fur and smiled, and Jackson felt a familiar prickle on his shoulder as Billy Bob, who had been lounging on the back of the couch, reached out and kneaded him some biscuits.

It was a brief, sleepy moment in the evening, not too long after dinner. One that said Henry might crash on their couch for a much-needed nap, and Jackson, maybe—just maybe—might retire to the bedroom and sleep. Ellery was working late at the office tonight, a thing he did rarely but offered to dothisnight because Jackson’s insomnia had been so terribly acute.

“I don’t carewhenyou sleep, Jackson. If it’s after dinner, it’s after dinner, but fuck us both, you’ve got to get some sleep!” When he’d spoken next that afternoon, his voice had dropped, throbbing gently with worry. “Besides, baby, if you fall asleep after dinner, I’ll get home just in time for your first nightmare. Timing is everything.” He’d given a twisted smile then, and Jackson had been terribly, terribly aware that what hurthimhurt Ellery too. Ellery would probably like to sleep uninterrupted as well, and while the first nightmare was almost a guarantee these days, the second, as long as Jackson had Ellery in his bed, was often not. A compromise of sorts, and Jackson understood.

Jackson found himself giving in to it, laying his head on the back of the couch, letting his cat’s steady kneading lull him intoa sort of somnolence. He was there, almost asleep, when Henry shifted on the couch.

Jackson popped awake in an instant at Henry’s muttered oath, his heart pounding with the urgency in Henry’s voice.

“I’m up!” he said, struggling for breath. “What do we need to do?”

“Nothing,” Henry said firmly, although he was already on his feet and heading for where his shoes sat and his jacket hung in the foyer. “This is a me thing, not a you thing.”

“But you don’thaveyou things,” Jackson complained. “Me, your boyfriend, the law firm—we’re the beginning and end of your existence!”

Henry’s laugh was warm and rich, and Jackson had a moment to reflect that he was glad Henry had gotten to the point where he reallycouldlaugh like that. And also that Henry had a full life—he wasn’t only liked, he wasbeloved—by his brother, his brother’s family, Galen, Galen’s husband, John, all the boys he helped to mentor in the flophouse, and by Lance, his boyfriend, who thought Henry was the best man he’d ever known.

“No, seriously,” Jackson said on a yawn. “Tell me where you’re going. I’ll fuss if I don’t know.”

Henry grimaced. “Actually you’ll probably get called in on it too, so I may as well tell you. You know how half the kids who ended up at the flophouse got there because they hit on John or Galen?”

Jackson nodded, because he talked to the kids. “A lot of them were cruising for business,” he said frankly. “They hit on John and end up with the world’s most ethical porn director, who tries to give them any job but the one they asked for.”

Henry inclined his head. “And he only gives them that one if they’re over eighteen and are still interested after they’ve been cleaned up, evaluated, and spent some time off the streets.”

From what Jackson understood, John ended up with one porn model in twenty or thirty offers, but henevertook advantage of his own employees, and he’d helped alotof kids find a way to a different home.

“Did he get another one?” Jackson asked, curious. He knew that sometimes Henry was called in when the kids ended up at John’s receptionist’s house so he could make sure Isabelle Elaine Roberts was safe when she had a stranger sleeping in her guest room.

“Fourteen,” Henry said grimly, and Jackson winced.

“Dear God.”

“Yeah. So I’m on to help talk to the kid, but I think Ellery’s going to be called in too.”

Jackson frowned. “He’s fourteen. Has he been accused of something besides solicitation?”

Henry shook his head. “No, I think he witnessed something. John and Galen got the story out of him. I think they’re headed here.”

“Aw shit,” Jackson muttered. “Your gig sounds more fun.”

Henry chuckled, but it was a strained sound, and Jackson understood the cost that must be involved with taking care of a kid who’d been out on the streets the way this one had been.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I know it’s gotta hurt.”

Henry shrugged again. “It’s hard. I mean, I’m glad we can get them to someplace good—a shelter, a foster home, someplacenotthe street, but….” He sighed. “My old man was a piece of work,” he said. “There was a reason Davy and I had such fucked-up lives before we came out. But we always had food and a place to sleep. Can’t say that would have been the story if Dad had known about either of us, but….”

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