Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Fuck off, Chuck,” Tor said. “I told you not to do that.”
“What’d he do?” Jule asked.
“Introduced him to the in-laws.” The chief smirked. “Felt good to be the one disregarding your direct instructions for a change. I can see why you enjoy doing it to me so much.”
“What offer?” Jule asked.
“Chuck thinks he can strong-arm me into staying on the force even though I’ve been clear from the beginning that I’d be leaving as soon as we closed the case against John Jones.”
“I hope you’ll join my efforts to change his mind,” the chief said to Jule. “He’s an outstanding officer and I don’t want to lose him.”
“I was able to do this job well because I was working undercover. I fit in out there much more than I fit in here.” He waved his hand in the direction of the office door. “But John Jones is no longer a threat, so I’m done with that now. I need to be home.” He narrowed his eyes at the chief in a way that made most people flinch. “And you need to leave Jule out of this.”
The chief was undeterred. This was clearly not his first experience being stared down by a displeased Tor Dunworthy. “Nobody’s asking you to go back under, son. You’ve done more than enough of that. You can take a regular post and live a regular life. I see you running your own command one day, maybe even having my position.”
“With as long as we’ve worked together, I’d expect you to know me better.”
The chief looked away from Tor and focused on Jule. “Julian, talk some sense into him. You’re the only person whose opinion he seems to value. Tell him not to resign from the department.”
Nearly everything he knew about critical aspects of his life had been upended and rewritten over the past hour. But one constant remained and it was the same constant he’d known since he was six. At his core, Tor Dunworthy was the same fearless, loyal, irreverent boy who had breezily disregarded Jule’s father in the interest of having fun in his own way. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Chief Montez. Tor’s too much of an out-of-the-box thinker to be a cop.”
The chief frowned. “I should have known you’d be a problem that day you told me off and said you wanted to work on the other side.”
Jule shrugged. “What can I say? The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, and despite what my family thinks, Tor and I grew up in the same orchard.”
Chapter 16 – Age 30
Jule woke up inside a fantasy. He was in his bed, lying partly on his belly and partly on his side, and Tor was curled around him, his face against Jule’s nape, his front pressed to Jule’s back, one of his arms under Jule’s neck and the other draped over Jule’s shoulders and stretched on top of Jule’s arm, their fingers woven together.
“Morning,” he croaked, voice rough from sleep.
Soft lips brushed over his neck and Tor’s hold tightened. “Morning.”
“Feels good to have you here without worrying that you’ll be leaving,” Jule confessed.
“That’s all over now.”
They stayed silent for a while, breathing together with Tor occasionally brushing his lips over Jule’s skin and caressing Jule’s hand with his own.
“Were you scared?” He knew Tor enough to realize that he’d never share details about what he’d gone through during all those years, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it.
“I stayed close enough to John Jones to be sure he didn’t know anything about you, and to make him believe I’d chosen him over my brothers. You were always safe.”
“I wasn’t talking about myself, Tori.”
Tor pressed his lips to Jule’s neck again, firmer that time, longer. “No, I wasn’t.”
Fearlessness, steadfastness, and determination at a level that should have come across as arrogance but instead read as confidence and grit. That had been Tor at six, laughing when Jule punched him and then leading him out of the house to play a game he made from discarded pipes and wood.
It had been Tor at seven, walking into a classroom on the second day of school and whispering that the principal had agreed to transfer him into Jule’s class.
It had been Tor at eight, sneaking into his mother’s room while she slept and coming out with a tiny plastic bag and an explanation that he had to hide it for a while, because if she took too much at once, she’d never wake up again.
It had been Tor at nine, stepping in front of Jule at recess, taking a punch to his face that had been meant for a classmate’s chest without flinching, and saving Jule from a certain suspension.
It had been Tor at ten, jumping into the dumpster behind Safeway on Tuesday nights because that was when they threw out things that said they were expired but Tor explained were still good enough to eat.