Parking behind the station, Harlan had barely turned off the ignition when Nathan jumped out of the car and slammed the door.
"Goddammit!" Taking a deep, calming breath, Harlan thundered into the station after his partner. He was about to give his two cents when Detective Flynn came sprinting toward them.
John was a few years older than Harlan and just as big. He was also a good man and a good friend. Harlan and Nathan met him at an apartment party before they'd joined the Prohibition Unit five years ago. Harlan would never forget the sight of John leaning over the roof's ledge, staring down into the abyss with intent in his eyes. John had been a flatfoot then, a rookie whose life had started on a downward spiral when the voice in his head telling him he was queer could no longer be stifled. He'd attended the party in the hopes he might be able to make more sense of things if he met other fellas like him, but ended up more confused than ever. Harlan had looked at Nathan, and Nathan silently agreed. They pulled John away from the ledge and hadn't let go of him since.
"Thank God you fellas are here. I was about to telephone you." John looked at Nathan and shook his head. "You need to get ahold of your man before he ends up putting Regal in the morgue."
That got Nathan springing to action. "Where is he?"
John motioned for them to follow, and they hurried through the station out back to the tiny interrogation rooms, where in the very last room, a tall blond in swanky gray slacks and a vest, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was beating the tar out of Shifty without so much as breaking a sweat.
"I want to know when!" The man pulled back a fist, only to have Nathan jump in and seize it. There was no hesitation on the Chicago agent's part, and he spun around, taking a swing at Nathan.
If Harlan hadn't seen Nathan duck with his own eyes, he would have thought the man's fist made contact, judging by the way Nathan reeled back, his eyes wide with shock. To Harlan's bewilderment, the new guy looked just as stunned as Nathan.
Snapping himself out of it, the Chicago agent grabbed a stupefied Nathan by the arm and hauled him out of the room. As if things weren't odd enough, Nathan dazedly followed without muttering so much as a word. Whatever the hell was going on, Harlan wasn't about to let Nathan out of his sight. His partner was pulled into the empty interrogation room next door, and when Harlan made to follow, a hand went up to stop him.
"This is private," the blond declared firmly.
"Like hell it is." Harlan straightened to his full height, looming over the six-foot agent. "Wherever he goes, I go. Just try and stop me." He met intense pale green eyes and didn't blink. No mug was going to put one over on him, especially no tough guy from Chicago.
"Suit yourself."
Once the door closed behind them, the guy turned to Nathan and spoke as if Harlan wasn't there.
"I didn't want you to find out this way." His voice was surprisingly quiet, getting Harlan's undivided attention. He looked to be about Nathan's age, maybe a year or two older. Definitely late twenties. His suit was tailored and his white shirt looked like silk. His light blue tie certainly was. The kid had dough, or at least liked to pretend he did.
"I can't believe it. You're alive."
Nathan's soft-spoken words hit Harlan like brick to the gut, and the world around him darkened a shade or two. Harlan swallowed hard, unable to believe it. "Danny Brogan?"
Danny's gaze shifted from Nathan to Harlan for the first time since they walked into the room, and a questioning smile came onto his too-handsome face. He held out his hand to Harlan and nodded. "That's me. And you are...?"
"Agent Harlan Mackay. Nathan's partner," Harlan said, shaking the man's hand and doing his best to summon a friendly smile. "Nathan told me about you fellas, that you grew up together." He held Danny's gaze and a look of awareness flashed across those sharp green eyes. That's right, you bastard, I know everything.
"Right." Danny gave a nod, and Harlan noticed he stood a little taller. "Nice to meet you, Harlan." He turned his attention back to Nathan, his expression softening once more. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I was in a bad way for a long time, and I didn't want to drag you into it. I tried to write you so many times, but then days turned into weeks, weeks into months, then years...." Danny sniffed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I figured you'd moved on with your life, and I worried you might not want me to be a part of it."
"Why the hell would you think that?" Nathan asked, disbelief still in his eyes. "You were my best friend, Danny." Among other things.
Nathan didn't say the words, but they were there, hanging over Harlan's head like a piano dangling from a piece of twine, and all he could do was stand there, feeling out of breath. His heart dropped to his stomach when Nathan threw his arms around Danny and hugged him. "I can't believe it. After all these years."
"I'm sorry." Danny returned Nathan's embrace, holding him far longer than he should. His gaze fell on Harlan, and something in Harlan's expression must have said more than he'd intended, because Danny released Nathan and took a step back. "Uh, maybe we can talk about it over lunch? Regal's expended his hospitality for the time being, and I should probably let you know what I managed to get out of him."
Nathan looked from Danny to Harlan and back. "You mind if Harley tags along?"
Swell. This day was just getting better and better. Harlan didn't bother waiting for Danny to reply. "It's fine. You two go on ahead. I've got things to do."
"On the level?" To Nathan's credit, he was genuinely concerned with Harlan's opinion on the matter, so Harlan did his best not to appear fazed by this whole surreal encounter, even if his insides were twisting in all kinds of ways.
"On the level."
He told Danny it was nice to meet him and got the hell out of there before the cracks started to show. With a quick goodbye to John and a promise to call later after he'd returned from escorting Shifty back to his cell, Harlan made for his car.
A nice drive with the Buick's top down, the wind in his hair, and the means to push aside all the silly ideas forming in his head was exactly what he needed.
So what if Danny was back in Nathan's life? That didn't mean the two were going to pick up where they left off. True, Nathan had never stayed in one place for long, and he'd had trouble being faithful--even Danny couldn't keep him from feeling restless--but that all changed when Harlan came into Nathan's life. Nathan and Danny might have history, but Harlan trusted Nathan. What's more, Nathan knew Harlan trusted him. Sure, it didn't help that Danny Brogan had the smooth, debonair looks of a motion-picture star and the confidence to go with it. Danny obviously meant a great deal to Nathan, so Harlan would have to make the best of it. Who knew, maybe he and Danny could even become friends.
"And maybe pigs will sprout wings and Dench will start dancing the Charleston," he muttered to himself. What a nifty way to start the week.
LUNCH HAD been... odd.
Nathan joined Danny at the automat, where they grabbed a quick lunch, and Danny discussed his encounter with Shifty. As expected, Shifty had little to offer. The guy rolled on several of his lowlife cohorts, but when it came to Masin, there was nothing Nathan and Harley didn't already know. Masin had a big shipment of booze coming in to Atlantic City from Florida. Shifty knew nothing of when, what time, what men, or routes, which was no surprise to Nathan. Masin would have to be stupid to trust that kind of information to scum like Shifty. Then again, Shifty might have been too terrified of Masin to talk, though Danny had made it abundantly clear that if he didn't cooperate, Shifty should be equally scared of him.
After lunch, Danny accompanied Nathan to his place so they could talk more privately.
"I'll be damned. Nathan Reilly, homeowner."
Nathan took a seat on the blue-patterned couch across from the brick fireplace. "Well, it is my home, but Harley owns it." He felt a little awkward discussing his and Harlan's relationship with Danny. There'd been a time when they'd shared everything, but that seemed like a lifetime ago, even if Danny looked just as he had the l
ast time Nathan saw him. No matter how close they'd once been, things were different now. They were different.
Danny took a seat on the couch beside him and bumped his head lightly against Nathan's like he used to do when they were kids. "Yeah, I heard your meat's got some pretty good bank."
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Says who?"
"When I was told about my transfer, I did some poking around. Wanted to know what I'd be dealing with at the new office."
"Sure." Nathan would have done the same. It wasn't like it was a secret, but he was hardly about to discuss Harlan's finances. "It's not something I've asked him about. I know his parents were old money, and he was an only child. They passed away when the influenza hit. He was pretty broken up about it. They were good folks." Unlike Nathan's boozehound parents, but he wasn't about to get into that either. Besides, Danny knew full well what Nathan's home life had been like, considering how many times he'd ended up on Danny's doorstep sporting bruises or a bloodied nose.
"How far did you run when he asked you to shack up with him?" Danny asked with a knowing grin.
Glad for the distraction, Nathan shook his head and chuckled at the memory. "I got as far as the end of the block before he caught up with me. It took him half an hour to walk me back here, and another forty-five minutes to get me through the door. I think he thought if he could get me inside, I wouldn't be able to escape. He caught me climbing out the window twice."
Danny laughed, and Nathan couldn't help his dopey grin. He still couldn't believe Danny was here, in the flesh. For a moment, sitting together with him, it was like they were kids again. Old memories started to come back like a trickling stream, particularly of the times when Nathan had been at his most troubled and Danny had been there, holding his hand every step of the way.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," Nathan said, remembering how alone he'd felt after Danny disappeared without a word, how broken he'd been.
When Nathan had been recruited to the MTC, Danny promised to follow, unwilling to let anyone or anything come between them, not even a war. Somehow, Danny ended up part of the Thirty-third Infantry Division, getting shipped off to Hamel in northern France to fight alongside the Australians. Nathan had been devastated, but not nearly as devastated as when Danny's letters stopped arriving. It had been downhill from there, until he met Harlan.
"You really missed me?" Danny asked, sounding surprised.
Nathan jumped to his feet and threw his arms up in frustration. "What do you mean, did I really miss you? For crying out loud, Danny, you vanished without a trace! You don't know how long I spent trying to find you, or what I went through when I didn't."
"It wasn't my intention to get shot and end up in some godforsaken hospital for months on end. I was fighting for my life, Nate, and after I recovered physically, I was still a goddamn mess in here." Danny tapped the side of his head and with a resigned sigh, stood and pulled Nathan into his arms. "You have to know I never wanted to be away from you." He ran a soothing hand up and down Nathan's back as he held him close. "Why do you think I came back to New York, huh?"
Nathan pulled away and met Danny's gaze. "You came because of me? I don't know what to say."
"Say you forgive me and you'll let me make up for lost time." Danny took Nathan's hand in his, bringing Nathan's pulse to a flutter. It was strange, having his old life with Danny occupying the same space as his new life with Harlan. Nathan's relationship with Danny had been different from Nathan's current one with Harlan. For one, it couldn't really be called a relationship. Yes, they'd fooled around, and for a short time they'd been lovers, but they'd never been in love. Their bond had been cemented in childhood. Danny had been Nathan's safe place. No matter how far Nathan wandered, how many men Nathan had been with, he always came back to Danny because of that bond, but Danny could never ease the restlessness inside Nathan, could never get him to stay. Harlan was the first and only man who'd ever made Nathan want to stay.
There was so much Nathan wanted to discuss with Danny. Like where he had gone after he recovered, and why Chicago. When had he joined the Treasury Department and the Prohibition Unit, and why wait until now to come back to New York?
"Nate, please."
With a small nod, Nathan figured that forgiving Danny was at least a start. "I forgive you." Even if he hadn't wanted to forgive Danny, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself from doing so. "I'm happy you're here."
"I'm relieved to hear you say that, Nate. The moment I saw you, I wanted to--"
It was only when Nathan heard himself gasp that he realized Danny was kissing him, and it threw him completely for a loop. Suddenly he was tossed back to when he was fourteen, lying with Danny under the big oak tree, hidden from the world by a thicket of bushes.
Nathan's breath quickened as Danny's hand slid under his now untucked shirt. A shudder of anticipation and dread swept through him. What if they got caught by Danny's little brother again and someone actually believed him this time? Nathan had already been warned by his momma. She said if he mentioned that he liked boys and not girls one more time, he would be sent away. But Nathan didn't want to be sent away, and he didn't want to like girls. He liked Danny and the way Danny made him feel.
"Where's the bedroom?" Danny asked, his breath unsteady as he unfastened Nathan's pants.
Nathan scrunched his nose. Danny had stolen a kiss once when they sat listening to the gramophone in the living room while his momma baked in the kitchen, but that was as far as they dared to take things inside the house.
"We'll get in trouble," Nathan whispered.
Danny let out a husky laugh. "You're not fourteen anymore, Nate. Your momma ain't around no more. Remember?"
"Wait, what?" Nathan came crashing back to reality. This wasn't right. Jesus, what the hell was he doing?
In an attempt to put some distance between him and Danny, Nathan took a quick step back, unaware of how close he was to the couch. He fell back onto the cushions, and Danny wasted no time in straddling him and bringing their lips together again. Everything became a whirlwind of sensation and color, none of which made any sense, and all of it incredibly unsettling.
"You don't know how many nights I spent thinking about you fucking me," Danny murmured against Nathan's lips.
"Danny, wait." He made to grab Danny's wrist, but Danny slipped his free hand into Nathan's underwear. "Stop--"
"It's okay, Nate. Remember how good it felt. Do you remember?"
"What the fuck is this?"
Nathan froze, his heart slamming in his chest at the sight of Harlan standing in the doorway across the room, a host of emotions playing on his face, everything from disbelief to anger. In the end, anger won out.
"Harley." Nathan buttoned up his pants, and Danny thankfully had the good sense to get off him, not that it did him any good. For a guy Harlan's size, he moved damned quick. He had a fistful of Danny's shirt and was dragging him across the room before Nathan had even gotten to his feet. "Harley, wait!" Nathan took off after them. He didn't know how the hell he was going to fix this, only that he had to.
"Get the fuck out," Harlan growled and all but tossed Danny down the front steps and onto the pavement, where he hit the concrete path hard, accompanied by a string of curses.
Nathan ran out the door and down the steps to check on Danny before turning to Harlan. His heart all but stopped. The expression on Harlan's face was one Nathan had never witnessed from him before, and the gravity of the situation struck him like a jolt of electricity. He ran to catch Harlan before he could disappear into the house. The moment he touched Harlan's arm, his back was slammed into the wall.
"You too."
"What?" A lump formed in his throat at the anger and pain in Harlan's eyes. "Harley, please, let me explain."
One minute Harlan's hand was around his neck, the next minute the barrel of a revolver had joined it. "Get out of my sight, or I swear the next thing you'll be kissing is the bullet that comes out of my gun."
Nathan ha
d never seen Harlan like this. There was no telling what he would do if Nathan pushed him enough. When Nathan spoke, he did his best to sound calm. "It wasn't what it looked like."
"Really?" Harlan spat out. "So he didn't have his tongue down your throat and his hand on your dick. Is that what you're telling me?"
"Please, let's talk about this."
With an icy glare, Harlan released him and went inside. The door slammed so hard it rattled the windows. Digging into his pockets, Nathan cursed under his breath. His keys were inside the house. That didn't stop him from pounding on the door. "Harley, open the door!" Desperation started to wash over him, and he pounded with both fists, not caring who heard. "Please, Harley!"
A hand landed on his shoulder, and Nathan flinched. "Come on, Nate. There's no point trying to talk to him when he's in a lather like that. He'll end up plugging you."
"I have to talk to him. I have to get him to understand that it's not what he thinks." He let his head fall against the door, trying to plan his next move. Maybe he should sit out here until Harlan calmed down. Danny was right about one thing. Trying to talk to Harlan now would only make matters worse for the both of them. He slammed his hand against the door in frustration. "Fuck!"
"Why don't we go for a drink and talk about this."
Nathan turned his head and peered at Danny. "You're not being serious, are you?"
"Are you saying you're dry? Jesus, you do love him." At Nathan's warning glare, Danny threw up his hands in surrender. "I wasn't razzing you. I...." He seemed to think about something before letting out a resigned sigh. "I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"
Something in Nathan's eyes must have said so, because Danny gave him a nod and walked off.
This day couldn't get any worse. Then again, knowing his luck, it might.
Chapter Four
THE LAST two hours were a blur.
Harlan spent the entire time pacing the living room, fighting the urge to drive his fist into the wall, or better yet, Danny Brogan's face. His mind wouldn't stop replaying what he'd walked in on, and he tried telling himself over and over that Nathan hadn't betrayed him. That all it had been was an innocent kiss that escalated out of Nathan's control.