Fitting In (13 page)

He’d been an ass to Jack, and he could only imagine how angry Gray had been when Jack had told him about the conversation. He was lucky Gray hadn’t come after him for hurting Jack. He’d been cold, because he was trying to make walking away easier. If he’d let Jack see how much it cost him, he would probably have chickened out. He wondered if Jack had seen through the act, but it didn’t matter; he’d ended things with them and that was for the best, even if right then he felt like only half a person.

The first few days after he’d broken things off, he’d picked up his phone at least once an hour, ready to call Jack and apologize, but each time he stopped himself because if he did, he would end up begging to see them again. He worried that if Gray and Jack came in for a drink he’d rush over to them and confess exactly how he felt about them. Because every second of every day he craved them, body and soul.

And just when he’d thought he might be doing a little better because he’d gotten through the busiest part of the night without scanning the tables a single time looking for Jack and Gray, he got home and found a letter waiting for him that hit him like a punch to the gut. Test results. He knew Gray and Jack didn’t use condoms when it was just the two of them, and when things seemed to be going so well, he’d decided to get tested and then see how they felt about going bare with him.

His hands shook as he opened the envelope, not because he was worried he wasn’t clean, but because now he’d never know what it felt like to have their naked cocks inside him. He’d never shared that level of trust with anyone.

He unfolded the letter. He was clean. If only…. No, he couldn’t think about it. Wet spots began to appear on the paper. Mason wiped at his tears, but they fell faster and faster. Who the fuck cried because they got a clean bill of health? He sank to his knees on his kitchen floor and wondered if he’d ever recover from this fuckup.

He moved through the next day like a zombie. He fucked up more drinks orders in a few hours than he had in the previous year. Elizabeth, his manager, had bitched at him, and when Mason meekly apologized, she asked if something was wrong. He told her he was having some family problems, which was true enough. Jack and Gray weren’t the only people he hadn’t talked to in the last two weeks. Unlike them though, his mother had called no less than five times, leaving messages about the party, as if their conversation about his “gay phase” had never happened.

Elizabeth tried to send him home to get some rest, but Mason had pleaded with her to let him stay. The last thing he’d wanted was to be home alone where he thought of nothing but Jack and Gray. The only thing that had kept him from driving over to their house the night before to see if they would take him back was his fear that they had found someone to take his place. His stomach plummeted at the thought and the pint glass he was holding slid from his fingers and shattered against the side of the sink.

Mason stared at the broken glass, fighting the despair that threatened to overtake him and hoping he wasn’t going to have to rush to the bathroom to vomit. His family couldn’t accept him for who he really was. He had acquaintances at work, but he pushed away almost anyone who wanted to get close to him. He was used to being alone, but after Jack and Gray…alone had become lonely.

Jack and Gray had made him feel welcome. They’d cared about getting to know him. And he’d gotten used to having them to talk to. Even the nights he didn’t spend with them, they often talked or texted, and though he’d tried not to until that awful night when his mom treated him like shit, he’d known he could call them if he needed something, anything, just like they were his…boyfriends?

Mason shook his head as he cleaned up the broken glass, cursing when he sliced his thumb open on one of the fragments. He’d just gotten the bleeding stopped when sirens blared and police cars went screaming by followed by an ambulance. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He knew something truly awful had happened.

A man ran into the bar. “Some crazy ass just shot a cop right down the street,” he yelled. Everyone started talking at once. Several people ran over to the window and just as many headed for the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Mason stood at the bar, frozen.
Shot a cop. Shot a cop
. The words kept echoing in his head. Jack. Gray. He dropped the bloody rag he’d wrapped around his hand and took off running.

“Where the hell are you going?” Gwen asked as he pushed past her, nearly making her drop a tray.

He didn’t respond. Once he was out on the sidewalk, he noticed that onlookers seemed to be coming from all over. A shooting sure did draw a crowd.

He saw crime scene tape up ahead. How far beyond was…the victim? His heart pounded.
Please, God, don’t let it be Jack or Gray.

“Excuse me.” He cut between an elderly couple that were almost at the barrier. An officer stood on the other side of the tape, warning everyone to stay back.

“The officer who was shot,” he demanded. “Who was it?’

“I’m not authorized to—”

“Please. I’m friends with…just please tell me.”

Mason knew he sounded frantic, possibly psychotic.

“Step back, sir.”

Mason forced himself to back away from the tape. He stood on tiptoe, trying to see, but there were paramedics and police swarming the area. He scanned the length of the tape barrier. Was there another spot where he might sneak through? Could he pretend to be someone official? An off-duty paramedic, maybe?

He sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there and keep wondering or wait until he heard it on the news. He pushed back through the crowd until he got to the corner. Then he started down a side street. Maybe the barrier wouldn’t be as hard to get through there.

He made his way through the crowd until he could see the crime scene tape. A paramedic leaned over a body on the ground. Mason watched him shake his head. Another man pulled a sheet up over the victim’s face.

Oh God. He’s dead. Whoever that is, is dead.
Mason shook all over. His dinner threatened to come back up.

Then the whoop of another siren distracted him. A police car flew past him and came to a screeching halt. A big man jumped out leaving the door standing open. When he turned toward Mason, Mason realized it was Gray. Jack climbed out of the car a second later.

They were okay. They were really okay.

Mason’s knees buckled and he stumbled, falling against a man who was standing by him. The man looked at him with disdain, probably thinking he was drunk.

He managed to right himself, but he was dizzy and shaky and half-sick. He wanted to get away, but he couldn’t move. Gray looked right at him.

Mason lifted a hand and waved feebly. Gray didn’t wave back. He put his arm around Jack’s shoulder, and both men hurried through the crime tape. At least they could hug each other here. That would be expected in a time of grief.

Mason pulled out his phone and texted Jack. “I’m sorry I was an ass, and I’m sorry you lost someone today.”

He doubted they’d respond, but he felt better for having done it. There wasn’t anything else he could do right then, but at least he knew they were alive. They might have died without him seeing them again.

He’d made a mistake, a huge fucking mistake. He’d told himself he was saving them all from the greater pain of ending things down the road, but by backing off, he’d done nothing but hurt Jack, Gray, and himself. He remembered the look in Jack’s eyes when he’d broken up with him. And it
was
a breakup whether Mason had wanted to admit it at the time or not. They had been in a relationship.

He’d been too afraid of what it would mean to try to make things work with three of them. There were people who had three-way relationships and made things work, but he didn’t see how they did it. Dating was hard enough with just two, and while some of his reasons for ending things had been selfish, he honestly didn’t want to come between the two of them. Their love for each other was so beautiful. Could they really have feelings for him like they did for each other, or would they always be a couple and he be their third?

If they were going to get jealous, don’t you think you’d have seen it by now?

We were always together. What if I was with one of them? 

What if you were?

Fuck!

He got back to Nathan’s without remembering any of the journey. When he pushed the door open and stumbled in, Elizabeth was at the bar, but there were only a few customers. He guessed everyone had either gone to gawk at the crime scene or been deterred by the crowds, the police, or the potential danger. 

Elizabeth glared at him. “What the fuck did you leave for?”

Gwen, the bitchy waitress who’d tried to stop him on his way out, rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Haven’t you seen him cozying up to those two cops? He had to go check on his crushes.”

Mason stepped right up to her, snarling. “Back off. A man was killed out there.”

She stared back, then stepped away, hands up. “Fine. Just don’t walk off and leave us again.”

“Bitch,” he spat at her retreating back.

“Yeah, she is, but you can’t just run out,” Elizabeth said.

“I thought…I had to know who it was.”

Elizabeth nodded. “You’re forgiven this time, but if it happens again, there will be serious consequences, got that?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She patted him on the shoulder. “Go home, and if whatever has had you moping around here has to do those two gorgeous cops, fix it.” 

Mason started to argue, but Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t need to know about it. It’s probably best if I don’t. Just fix it.”

“I’ll try.” He wished he knew how.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Once news about the shooting was released, Mason learned that the killer was suspected to be one of the members of the team who’d been robbing businesses close to Nathan’s. Mason knew there had been another robbery just days before, and Elizabeth had reminded them all to be extra careful when they locked up at night, but so far he hadn’t heard of anyone being hurt during the break-ins. If they’d thought his life was in danger, Jack and Gray would have warned him, wouldn’t they?

Jack hadn’t responded to Mason’s text, not that Mason had really expected him to, but…well…he’d hoped. Mason supposed it was possible Jack still would contact him. The last three days couldn’t have been easy for Jack and Gray. The funeral for the officer who was shot had taken place that morning, and Mason was sure the investigation was taking up most of their time while they still had to deal with other, more routine calls. 

It was almost closing time on a Wednesday night. There were only a few hardcore drinkers left, so Mason got to work cleaning up and getting ready to shut things down. He wondered if Jack and Gray were working. The temptation to call and find out—assuming they’d take his call—was enormous. 

Call.

Don’t call.

Call.

Don’t call
. 

He went back and forth about a hundred times. Finally he slipped away from the bar for a few seconds and placed his phone in his bag in the break room so the temptation was no longer in reach. He should give them more time and let them grieve for their friend. He wanted to fix things even if he just apologized for how he’d treated them at the end, but now wasn’t the time to bother them. 

Or maybe you’re still too chicken.

No, that couldn’t be it.

If they wanted to talk now, Jack would have texted back.

Mason tried to focus on cleaning up his area for the night. When the last customer finally left and Mason had locked the door behind him, he resisted the urge to run to his phone and call Jack and Gray. They were probably on duty anyway. 

“They’re onto me. I’m sure I was being followed. Let’s just get out of here.” 

Mason froze. He’d thought he was alone, and he didn’t recognize the voice. 

“We’re not leaving when we’re this close. I’ve got a plan.”

Gwen. Apparently she was still there, and she was talking to someone. He’d seen her leave work a few times with a skinny, ferret-faced man with thick, wavy brown hair that looked like it belonged on someone else’s head. She must have had this boyfriend or whoever he was pick her up, but what did he mean about somebody being on to them? 

Their conversation continued in lowered voices, and Mason went looking for them. Gwen needed to get out of there so he could close up and go home. When he opened the door to the kitchen, she turned toward him. “Don’t move,” she said.

Mason arched a brow. What the hell had gotten into her? “Why are you still here?” he asked.

She smiled, and Mason got the same feeling of unease he’d had when he heard sirens the night the cop had been shot.

Something wasn’t right. He remembered telling Jack and Gray that Gwen had worked at Gino’s until just before they were robbed. He started to back out of the room. Why the hell hadn’t he kept his phone with him? Now would be the perfect time to call Jack or Gray.

The ferret-faced man pulled out a gun and aimed it at him. “She said don’t move.”

Mason stopped breathing. He stared at the gun. His family hadn’t been handgun owners, and other than when he’d watched Jack and Gray clean their police-issue weapons and slip them into their holsters, he’d never been up close and personal with one. He’d certainly never had one pointed at him.

None of his self-defense moves were going to help him against a bullet. His stomach roiled, but he fought the nausea and his rising panic. He wasn’t going to let Gwen and this asshole see how scared he was. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, being careful to stay completely still. He wanted answers, but he didn’t want to spook this man who already seemed rather nervous judging by the way he kept bouncing on his toes and shifting his gaze from Gwen to Mason and back again.