---

Dillon looked at the storeroom clock for the second time in as many minutes. Eight o'clock, at least another hour before he could see Jamie. It wasn't that Dillon minded working until closing. He'd done it more times than he could count. Still, Dillon couldn't remember ever being this anxious to leave before. He wanted to be with Jamie so bad he could taste it. It was a raging need, a burning he couldn't explain. Like if he didn't see Jamie soon, Dillon wasn't gonna make it. God, he had it bad. At least he didn't have to worry about Jamie, not while Megan was there with him, anyway. Jamie might not be too happy about the situation, but he was safe, and that's all Dillon could ask for. Megan was a bit outrageous at times, but she had a level head on her shoulders. So did Jamie, for that matter, but he also had a glaring blind spot where Ben was concerned. A blind spot that prompted him to do things he wouldn't normally do. No, Dillon had done the only thing he could think of by asking Megan to stay with Jamie. He only hoped Jamie wouldn't be mad at him. He was still thinking about it when Jim Pembroke stuck his head through the stockroom door.

"Dillon, you've got a phone call on line four."

"Thanks Mr. P. I'll pick up back here."

As soon as Mr. Pembroke left, Dillon grabbed the receiver of the employee extension, the one located directly underneath the time clock. "Hello?"

"You know, kid, I'm not sure which one has less sense: your boyfriend, or my sister. If you ask me, neither one of 'em could find his or her way out of a round room with no damn corners."

The minute he heard Brandon's voice, Dillon's heart settled somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. "What happened, Bran?"

"Oh, not much. Well, not unless you count Jamie and Megan being picked up in front of a dead man's house by the Chicago P.D. A dead man, I might add, who was the prime suspect in an ongoing child pornography/prostitution ring. A dead man who was murdered in cold blood not three feet from his own front door."

Bran had to be talking about Burke. Jamie and Megan had gone to see Ben's pimp. Wait a minute. Burke was dead? No. Dillon couldn't even think about that right now. First he had to know that Jamie and Megan were okay. Dillon sank down onto a nearby stack of plastic packing crates. "They were arrested? Are they okay?"

Dillon could hear Brandon drawing in a deep breath. "They weren't arrested, though not for lack of trying. They were caught snooping around the deceased's residence. That was after they crossed enough crime-scene tape and no trespassing signs to wallpaper an entire house. A cop spotted them hanging around the place, and ended up calling the lead detective working the investigation. It just so happens that I know the guy who's handling the case. He used to work for the force here in Reed, a man by the name of Hank Kilgore. Since the man's killer is still at large, Detective Kilgore thought a couple of kids snooping around the guy's house was more than a little bit suspicious. That's why he hauled them in. Kilgore's a good guy, and he recognized the Nash name the minute he ran Megan's I.D. He called me, and asked me to vouch for them both. I managed to convince him that Jamie and Megan had nothing to do with the murder, but I couldn't very well tell Kilgore what they were really doing at that house because I don't have a freakin' clue what the two of them were trying to prove. By the way, did you know that Jamie doesn't have a driver's license?"

Dillon nodded, then realized Brandon couldn't see him over the phone. God, he was rattled, and not just from Brandon's sudden shift in topic. "I know he doesn't."

"Yeah, well, you need to work on that. Not only does a boy his age need to know how to drive, but he doesn't have any picture I.D. All he had on him was his social security card and a credit card his aunt had given him. Since Sadie Banks was listed as the co-holder of the card, Kilgore very well could have called her. You're just lucky he called me first and not Sadie. I talked Kilgore out of calling her by telling him I would handle it myself. The point is, Jamie needs I.D. I guess he could get one of those non-driver cards with just his picture and personal information on it, but he really does need to know how to drive." Brandon paused. "I suppose I could teach him, if he wanted me to."

Dillon was stunned. "You aren't mad at him?"

Brandon sighed. "Look, Dillon, I'm not gonna lie and say I'm happy about whatever it is that Jamie's got going on. Hell, I know he's hiding something, and this latest caper of his just proves it. I'm also more than a little ticked that Megan got involved in this mess, but I also know my sister, and I know there was no way Jamie could talk her out of sticking her pug-nose into his business. I do know, from what Detective Kilgore told me, that the dead man is none other than Mr. Burke Carpenter, Ben Lewis's last foster father."

Dillon closed his eyes. "You know about Burke?"

"I know that the Chicago force has been trying for years to shut the guy down because of suspected sex trafficking involving teenage boys, but I also know that no one's been able to prove anything. Apparently, Carpenter was well connected enough to keep his fostering program going with only token protest from a handful of concerned citizens. I knew that Burke was Ben's last foster father because I read Ben's record from cover to cover when the poor kid was killed. I searched every inch of that report, Dillon. That's why there isn't a doubt in my mind that Ben's death was an accident." Brandon snorted. "Fat chance of me ever convincing Jamie of that, though. He's on some bizarre crusade about Ben. Going to visit Barry Sledge in jail was bad enough, but when Jamie starts seeking out professional scumbags like Carpenter, he's screwing around with things he doesn't understand. Carpenter was shot six times at point blank range with a three-fifty-seven magnum revolver. The perp used hollow-point bullets that ripped the hell out of the body."

"What does that have to do with Jamie?"

"Nothing, directly. But here's the thing. I was a profiler with the F.B.I. before I came back to Reed and ran for sheriff. One of the first things I was taught was to guess a killer's motivation. The police took thirty-thousand in cash out of Carpenter's house at the same time as they took the body. That rules out robbery. Given Carpenter's character, you'd think self-defense could have been a factor, but considering Carpenter was killed on his own front porch with his keys in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other, it looks like the shooter lay in wait for him and caught him by surprise on his way home from the store. Not exactly the act of someone fighting for his life. A hired killer would have fired one bullet--two at the most--straight to the head or the heart, just enough to get the job done without the added risk of extra shots to draw attention. That takes care of the professional hit theory and leaves one motive left."

"What's that?"

Brandon's next words made Dillon's blood run cold. "Revenge. The person who killed Burke was mad as hell. There's no way he'd have emptied that gun into Carpenter's body, otherwise. Hell, the first shot probably killed the guy. No, that was rage taking over. And a guy who has enough hatred inside himself to lay in wait for a man and turn him into hamburger on his own doorstep wouldn't hesitate to take out Jamie and my sister if he thought the two of them were getting even remotely close to finding out who he is." Brandon's voice lost all traces of rancor. "The reason I'm telling you all this, Dillon, is because I care about you and Jamie. Even though I haven't told you anything that isn't a matter of public record, I wouldn't waste my breath explaining all this if I didn't believe there was a real risk involved. I care too much to stand back and let you guys get hurt. I'll do whatever it takes to protect the two of you, same as I would with Megan. I want you and Jamie to have a long and happy life together." Another pause. "That's assuming you want to spend the rest of your life with Jamie."

Dillon had spent the last two years dreaming about nothing else. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he wanted Jamie--and nobody but Jamie--from now on. He'd heard more than one person say that eighteen was too young to make that kind of commitment, but Dillon could care less. He knew his own mind and heart better than anyone else ever could. The only feelings Dillon was unsure about were Jamie's. Did Jamie want him, and nothing but him, till death do them part? After all they'd been through, Dillon was half-afraid to know the answer. He couldn't bring himself to voice those concerns to Brandon, though, so instead he simply said, "Yes, I do."

Dillon didn't see the trap coming until it was sprung. Brandon's voice was laced with smug satisfaction. "Good. Then you can drive over to Chicago and pick him up yourself. Grab my sister, too, while you're at it. I've already squared things with Detective Kilgore, so nobody's gonna have to sign a custody release for this one. Seems Jamie and Megan fed him some cock-and-bull story about wanting to know more about Ben's life before he came to Reed. What ever it was they told him, Kilgore bought it. He's agreed to let this little incident go as long as Jamie and Megan agree to stay away from his investigation. Yeah, right. Anyway, just swing by the station and I'll give you directions on how to get to the precinct where they're being held."

Damn. "You set me up."

Brandon snickered. "You can blame Nate for that. It was his idea for you to pick them up."

Dillon rubbed his forehead. "I'm confused. Why can't Megan just drive them both back to Reed herself?"

"Because, even though they weren't officially arrested, Megan's car was impounded for being illegally parked in front of Carpenter's house. She doesn't have the cash on her to bail it out, so I'll give you the money when you come by to get the directions and we'll kill two birds with one stone. Actually, I was all set to go over there and get them myself, but Nate felt sure I'd cause a big scene. I swear, my own husband has no faith in me. Since Jamie is your responsibility now, Nate thought sure you'd wanna do it."

"He was right. I'll be at your office as soon as I square things with my boss." Dillon hesitated. "Hey, Bran?"

"If you're gonna thank me, kid, you might want to save it. Just because I'm not going to pick them up tonight doesn't mean I don't have a thing or two to say to Jamie and Megan about this little misadventure of theirs. This isn't the amateur detective hour, and I'll be damned if Jamie isn't gonna get that through his thick skull even if I have to pound it in there."

Dillon actually smiled. "That, I don't doubt. But I do want to thank you. For everything."

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome. Now go get your guy before some sex starved jailbird decides to make Jamie his bitch. Knowing my sister, she'd want to watch."

Dillon disconnected with that rather disturbing picture in his head. The first thing he did after he got off the phone was seek out Jim Pembroke. He found him up front, talking to one of the pharmacists.

"Hey, Mr. P., can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, Dillon." Jim nodded to the pharmacist and motioned Dillon towards his office. "We can talk in here, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, sir. That'd be great." Dillon followed Jim into his office. Once seated, Dillon said, "I hate to do this, Mr. P., but something's come up. I need to leave."

Jim leaned across his desk, his dark gray hair ruffled from a night at work, his hazel eyes boring holes into Dillon's skin. "Is everything all right with you, Dillon?" Before Dillon could speak, Jim held up his hands. "I don't mean to pry, but you went from never missing a night of work to having to take leave at a moment's notice. The change in you has me worried."

The skin on the back of Dillon's neck began to prickle. He needed this job too bad to lose it now. "Mr. P., are you gonna fire me? I know I've taken some extra time off lately, but--"

Jim shook his head. "Calm down, son. I have no intention of firing you. Like I've told you before, you're the best employee I've got. I just want you to know, no matter what's going on in your life, you can talk to me about it." He paused. "I heard a rumor that you're no longer living with your folks."

Dillon swallowed, hard. "No, sir. I'm living with my older brother, Heath."

Jim nodded. "I understand that young men your age sometimes have problems relating to their folks. Heck, I may be three times older than you are, but I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be eighteen. The point is, my door is always open for you, Dillon. I'm more than willing to help in any way I can."

"Thanks, sir. I'll make up tonight's time, I swear it."

"Not necessary. Now, go on. Take care of your business. I'll see you on Monday night."

Dillon almost screamed his relief as he left Jim's office. He'd cleared the first hurdle. Now all he had to do was get to Jamie and Megan. Dillon clocked out and had almost made it to the front door of the shop when he ran headfirst into Heath. Oh great. That was all he needed.

"Heath, what are you doing down here?"

Heath's face was flushed, and Dillon was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the cold outside. "Did the sheriff get in touch with you?"

Oh, crap. "Yeah, he did."

"Good. He called the apartment first, looking for you. Thought maybe you had the night off, he said. What's this about Megan and Jamie being arrested in Chicago?"

"They weren't arrested, Heath. Just picked up by the police." Oh, yeah. Like that was so much better.

"Picked up?" Heath's panic was near-painful to watch. "Is Megan okay?"

Dillon started walking towards the door again. "She's fine, at least as far as I know. I still don't know why you won't just tell her you're crazy in love with her and be done with it."

Heath followed. "Never mind about that. Tell me what in the hell Megan is doing in jail."

"It'll have to wait. I'm on my way to pick her and Jamie up now."

Heath was hot on his heels. "You can tell me on the way there. I'm going with you."

Well fuck a duck on Sunday morning. If Dillon's night got any worse, he didn't think he'd survive it. He forced himself to stop the pity party before it reached full swing. Time to fetch his boyfriend out of the slammer. One more trip to a correctional facility for either one of them and he and Jamie would officially be white trash. Dillon slipped into the driver's seat of his Lumina and waited for Heath to climb in on the other side. It was gonna be a long night.

* * *

Carrying a thick, manila-clad file Jamie assumed must be Burke Carpenter's, Detective Kilgore came back into the stale office, his coffee-colored skin dripping with sweat despite the frigid air outside. Flipping his waist length braids over his shoulder, Kilgore slapped the file down and took a seat on his side of the rickety, wooden desk, putting him directly across from Jamie. Kilgore had the dark, exotic looks of a tropical swimsuit model, but the expression he wore made Jamie want to run and hide. His amber eyes probed first Jamie, then Megan, who was seated just to Jamie's right. Finally, Kilgore said. "Damn, it's hot in here. Stupid furnace malfunctioned again. You sure I can't get you kids anything to drink? A soda, maybe?"

Jamie shook his head just as Megan did the same. Jamie instantly wished he'd said yes about the drink when Kilgore went on with, "All right, then. Let's go over this thing one more time. What were the two of you doing at Burke Carpenter's house?"

This guy had to be related to Bran in some way. They asked the same kinds of questions and gave the same damning looks. Jamie sighed. "I only wanted to talk to the guy."

"What about?"

Jamie froze, not sure how to answer. That's when Megan stepped in. "As I said before, Detective Kilgore, Jamie lost his best friend recently. It just so happens that Jamie's friend, Ben Lewis, lived with Burke for a while. We were hoping Mr. Carpenter could tell us something about Ben's life before he and Jamie met. You know, childhood stories, funny memories. Anything that might help Jamie find a little bit of peace and comfort after losing Ben the way he did."

Damn, she was good. Jamie could actually see Hank Kilgore's eyes softening towards him. "Look, James, I can understand why you'd want to find out all you can about your friend, especially after Sheriff Nash explained to me what happened to the boy. But hunting down guys like Carpenter isn't the answer. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd keep a scrapbook of happy memories involving his foster kids, if you know what I mean. By all accounts, he was a total bastard. Carpenter did things during his lifetime you couldn't even imagine."

Wanna bet? Jamie said, "I understand, Detective. I made a mistake by snooping around in Ben's past. It won't happen again." Jamie had his fingers crossed under the table. If he told one more lie, Jamie just knew his nose was gonna start growing.

Kilgore went on. "I'm not saying you aren't entitled to find out all you can about your friend. All I'm saying is, you're going about it the wrong way. Burke Carpenter used anyone and everyone he came in contact with, his foster children especially. I can't say any more than that without jeopardizing the case, but I can say that you want to talk to someone who actually knew Ben, and Burke wouldn't have fit into that category. You want someone who knew Ben the person. Old school mates, fellow foster brothers, former teachers: anyone who might have taken the time to get to know the real Ben Lewis."

Out of that whole speech, Jamie heard only one phrase. Former foster brothers? He hadn't even thought of that. Jamie gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. Of course. Burke was bound to have had a stable full of boys, especially if he'd been raking in as much money as Ben claimed he was. One of the other guys was almost sure to know something that might tip Jamie off as to who Ben's second blackmail victim was. At least they might be able to tell him how to find the guy. That is, if Jamie could get them to talk. He shook himself. First, he had to find them. And this time, he knew where to at least start.

Forcing a cough, Jamie said, "Detective Kilgore, my mouth is kinda dry. Do you think maybe I could have a soda, after all?" Jamie broke into another fit of coughing. Megan reached over and started patting him on the back just as Kilgore stood up.

"Sure, kid. I'll be back in just a sec."

The minute Kilgore left the office, Jamie stopped coughing and turned to Megan. "If you're done beating the daylights out of me, go stand at the door and keep a lookout."

"A lookout for what?" But even as she asked, Megan moved to the door. Jamie flipped open the file, relieved to see that it was, indeed, Carpenter's, but wincing at the crime scene photos laying on top. Fuck. The guy who took out Carpenter meant business. Jamie forced his eyes away from the bloody pictures and flipped through the file. He passed over a picture of Burke before he'd been shot. Nice enough looking guy. Mid-forties, fake tan, big smile. As with Barry Sledge, there was nothing in Burke's picture to indicate the monster within. After giving the picture a brief once over, Jamie started his search again, going through the folder until he came to a page marked Household Occupants. He gave the document a quick scan, making certain it was what he was looking for. Without giving himself time to really think about what he was doing, Jamie removed the paper from its clips and, folding it into a sloppy square, slipped it into his front pocket. He closed the file just as Megan came back to her chair.

"What did you take out of that report?" Even whispering as she was, Megan sounded scared to death. Jamie felt sick with guilt for putting her in that position.

"The less you know right now the better, Megan. I swear I'll tell you all of it as soon as I get it straightened out." Jamie reached over and squeezed her hand. "I know I've said it before, but I'm so sorry for getting you into this."

Megan managed a weak smile. "It was my idea to come with you, remember? No apologies necessary."

Jamie was about to say something else when Kilgore came back in. He handed a soft drink can to Jamie and said, "All right, you two. Since Sheriff Nash vouched for you, you're free to go. Your ride is here, and it seems they brought the money to free Miss Nash's car from impound. All you have to do is pick up your coats and other personal belongings at the sign out desk, and then pay the clerk for the towing charges so you can leave. They're waiting for you up front"

They? Jamie's heart sank. He knew without asking who'd come for them. If it had been Bran and Nate, Bran would have been in the office and in his face already. No, Bran had pulled out the big guns. Jamie and Megan left Kilgore's office only to come face to face with a wounded Dillon and a furious Heath.

Megan tried to speak first, but Heath held up his hand. "No way, lady. You and I are gonna pick up your stuff and get your car out of impound while Dillon and Jamie have a little talk. I think maybe the two of us are overdo for a discussion of our own."

Megan's eyes crackled with electricity. "You and I don't have a darn thing to say to each other, Heath Carver. You're not my keeper."

Heath took her arm, gentle in spite of his anger. "Somebody damn sure needs to be. Honest to God, Megan. What were you thinking?" Before she could answer, Heath placed one finger over Megan's lips. "Unless you want this to escalate into an all out screaming match in the middle of the police station, I think we should go get your car now."

Megan nodded her head mutely and followed Heath towards the clerk's desk. Dillon waited until they were gone and then pointed to a row of plastic chairs just outside the booking area. He sat down, and as soon as Jamie took the chair next to his, said, "Would you please tell me what's going on here?"

Jamie took a deep breath and spilled out the entire story, from sitting in Aunt Sadie's kitchen eating lasagna to getting picked up by the cops at Burke's place. When he was done, Jamie glanced Dillon's way. "I guess you're pretty mad at me, huh?"

Dillon ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to stand--literally--on end. "Mad, no. But I am confused about a couple of things."

"Like what?"

Dillon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and turning his head towards Jamie. "Why would you come all the way to Chicago to talk to Burke?"

"I was hoping he could lead me to Ben's second blackmail victim."

Dillon clenched his fists in exasperation. "If there even is a second victim. For all we know, Ben stole that money. Either that or he fucked some guy who was stupid enough to pay big bucks for a cheap piece of tail."

Jamie winced. He was pretty sure Dillon's crude speculation came more from irritation and worry than anything else. For that reason, he did his best to ignore it. "I believe Ben got that extra twenty-thousand the same way he got the first twenty. Blackmail, right down the line." Jamie gave Dillon a pleading stare. "And if you're being honest with yourself, I think you believe it, too."

Jamie could tell that Dillon was doing his best to be patient. It wasn't working, but at least he was trying. "Fine. For the sake of argument, let's say I do believe Ben had another sucker on the hook. That still doesn't explain why you came all the way to Chicago to talk to a kiddy pimp. What makes you think the other blackmail victim isn't someone Ben met in Reed? How could Burke have possibly helped you find out who the guy is?"

"It's just a gut feeling I have. If it was someone from Reed, someone like Ash, then why didn't Ben feel guilty about it? He felt bad enough about Ash to leave that letter and give back the photos. Why wouldn't Ben feel bad enough about to do the same for the other guy. Also, if this new guy was someone Ben met while in Reed, how come I never knew about the relationship? Ben told me about Ash. Even though he never mentioned him by name, I knew he was seeing someone. If Ben had something similar going on with another guy, I think I would have known about it."

"Yeah, sure. Just like you knew that your best friend turned Ash into his own personal cash cow?"

Jamie turned his head, unable to bear the sarcasm and disdain coming from Dillon's direction.

Dillon sighed and, tucking one finger under Jamie's chin, turned his head so the two of them very facing. "So what, you think this guy is someone from Ben's past?" The look on Dillon's face said he wasn't sure he was buying into that theory.

For some reason, that bothered Jamie. He wanted Dillon to believe in him, to see things his way. "I think it's a definite possibility. Ben said in his letter to Ash that Burke took pictures and made videos of his boys with their clients. He also said that Burke used that stuff to blackmail some pretty powerful men. What if Ben kept his own records from those days?"

Dillon sat up straight. "You think Ben had his own set of blackmail pics from when he was a prostitute?"

"I think it's a definite possibility. And I also think there's only one way to find out. I have to talk to some of the guys who lived with Burke during the time Ben was there."

Dillon narrowed his eyes. "And just how are you planning to find these guys?"

Jamie flushed. "I sorta swiped a list of names from Burke Carpenter's police file."

Dillon practically screamed. "You did what?"

"Shh. Somebody's gonna hear you." In a calmer tone, Jamie said, "In Burke's file, there was a list of guys who were living in the house at the time of Burke's death. Out by each name is a phone number where each one can be reached. Now, some of those guys may have come in after Ben left, but a couple are bound to know who he is. I mean, was."

Dillon stifled a snort. "Let me guess, you're gonna go home and contact each one."

Jamie sat up straight and stiffened his spine. "No, I'm gonna check into a hotel here in Chicago, spend the night, and contact each and everyone of them tomorrow morning." Jamie looked Dillon right in the eyes. "I'm not coming home until I find someone who can tell me something that's gonna help me find out who the second blackmail victim was."

"Seems like you've got it all figured out." Dillon stood up and walked over to one of the narrow windows that overlooked the front parking lot. Jamie knew as dark as it was, Dillon probably couldn't see a thing, but that didn't stop him from standing there for a full minute, just staring. Finally he turned back to Jamie and said, "There's only one part of this equation I'm unsure of." Dillon leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "You keep saying you're gonna hunt down information about Ben. You're gonna spend the night in Chicago. There's a whole lot of 'you's' in what you just said, and not a single 'us.' Where do I fit in Jamie? You have all these plans, and it seems like I'm not in a single damn one of them."

Jamie stood up. He could see the pain in Dillon's eyes, and he hated himself for causing it. "I didn't leave you out of my plans to stay in Chicago because I wanted to hurt you, Dillon. It's just that you seemed so mad at me when you came in here, I didn't think you'd want to be included."

Dillon all but threw up his hands. "Of course I was mad. Did you even stop and think about what could have happened to you. It's bad enough that you got hauled in here, but God almighty, Jamie, what would you have done if you'd run into the guy who offed Burke. You could have been killed."

Jamie didn't know what to say. Dillon was shaking, and Jamie could tell it was more fear than actual anger talking. He stretched out his hand. "Dillon--"

Dillon pressed himself further against the wall. "No. You can't talk this away, Jamie. I'm not just gonna stand by and watch you put yourself at risk time and time again. I can't lose you again. I love you, dammit."

* * *

Dillon and Jamie grabbed Jamie's coat and wallet from the desk clerk and caught up with Megan and Heath out in the impound yard. Neither Megan nor his brother looked too happy, and Dillon could certainly sympathize.

Megan walked towards her car. "Who's gonna ride with who?"

Dillon cleared his throat. "You and Heath head on back to Reed in your car, Meggie. Jamie and I are gonna stay the night in Chicago."

Jamie gaped at Dillon, seemingly shocked by Dillon's decision to stay in Chicago with him. Dillon wasn't sure if Jamie was happy about it or not. Well, that was just too darn bad. There was no way Dillon was gonna leave him in Chicago alone. It was bad enough that he'd confessed his love in the middle of a Chicago police station only to have Jamie stand in mute silence and stare at him, but Dillon would be damned before he let Jamie put himself at risk again. Jamie would just have to deal with it.

Heath raised his brows but didn't say anything other than, "Fine, but I'm driving." He glared at Megan, daring her to argue.

To Dillon's surprise, she didn't. Instead, at the word hotel, Megan's eyes began to sparkle. "Okay by me, but I have something in my glove box I need to give Jamie first." She grabbed Jamie by the wrist and started pulling him towards the vehicle.

Once Megan and Jamie were out of ear shot, Heath said, "A hotel room?"

"Don't ask."

Heath nodded, pulling his coat tighter against himself to keep out the chill March wind. "You need any money?"

Dillon shook his head. "Nah. I'm good." He stared down at his shoe for a second. "Heath, can I ask you something?"

"I think you just did."

Dillon looked back up at his brother. "This is serious, Heath. Please."

"Sorry, kid. Go ahead."

"How, um . . . how do you know when your partner is ready to move the relationship to the next level?"

"You mean sex?"

Dillon's face was on fire. "I was thinking more along the lines of a serious commitment, but I guess sex sorta goes with that."

Heath clamped his hand on Dillon's shoulder. "I've never made a commitment to anyone before, but I do know a thing or two about sex. The thing is, the only experience I have is with girls. I'm not sure if it's different with guys, but I'd say the best way to tell if a guy is ready is to look for signals. Usually when I'm with a girl, she'll give me some sign that she's ready to take things up a notch."

Dillon's curiosity overcame his embarrassment. "What kind of sign?"

Heath shrugged. "It differs from girl to girl. Sometimes it's a look they give you, a certain word they say. Others are pretty damn bold about it. I had this one girl tell me once she wanted me to fuck her into unconsciousness. I ended up turning her down. Girls like that really aren't my style." Heath's eyes drifted to Megan as she and Jamie walked back towards them. "I like my women softer, more feminine." He shook himself out of it and turned back to Dillon, squeezing his shoulder again. "I think you'll know, kid. I wouldn't stress over it."

Jamie and Megan came back up just as Heath finished. Jamie was carrying a small duffle bag, but it was Megan who spoke. "You wouldn't stress over what?"

Heath crossed his arms, towering over her. "Just never you mind." He held out his hand. "Keys."

Megan screwed up her face. "God, you're bossy. What did I do, grow another father when I wasn't looking or something?" Still, she handed the keys over and said good-bye to Jamie and Dillon.

Heath took her arm and led her towards the car. Turning back, he said, "Be careful. Both of you. And call if you need me."

Dillon nodded. "Thanks, Heath. We will."

Dillon and Jamie walked back across the impound yard to the visitor's parking lot in silence. The anger and fear Dillon had felt when Brandon called him had been replaced by a new worry. He was about to check into a hotel room with the only man he'd ever loved. He was scared of making the wrong move, but more scared of making no move at all. He only hoped Heath was right about the signs thing. Not only had Jamie given him no indication of how he was feeling, he hadn't even returned Dillon's declaration of love. Dillon had never felt so much turmoil, so much confusion, not even when he came out to his folks. He prayed Jamie would give him some signal to show him what he should do. God knows he needed it.

But if Jamie was planning on giving Dillon any hints, he was taking his own sweet time about it. The only discussion once Jamie and Dillon were in the Lumina and on their way out of the parking lot was which of the hundreds of hotels in Chicago they should check into. There was also an argument about who should pay for it. Dillon wanted to pay for it himself, but Jamie insisted on using his credit card. His aunt gave it to him for emergencies, and Jamie intended to use it. Dillon was pretty sure Sadie wouldn't consider hunting down the foster children of a murdered scum-sucker like Carpenter an emergency, but there was no arguing with Jamie once his mind was made up. Dillon was fast becoming an expert on the power of Jamie's stubborn will. Jamie was just lucky Dillon was crazy about him. He'd be tempted to strangle him, otherwise.

The hotel debate was settled when Dillon had to stop for gas not far from the police station. When Dillon stepped inside to pay, he asked the clerk, a guy not much older than himself, if he knew of any decent places in the area.

The clerk peered through the Plexiglas. Even as dark as it was outside, Jamie was plainly visible sitting in the car under the bright lights of the convenience store parking lot. Dillon saw the look the clerk gave Jamie, and was fully prepared for some smart remark. Instead, the guy gave him a genuine smile and said, "There's a place not too far down the road here, a hotel called the Preston Inn. It's a nice place, clean and all, but since the new owners just opened back up after a complete remodel, it's reasonably priced, and they don't ask too many questions, if you know what I mean."

Dillon caught the meaning all right, but he thanked the clerk, anyway, and waited while the guy wrote out directions. Once done, Dillon headed back to the car. After a quick replay of the conversation--well, most of it--Dillon got the go ahead from Jamie, and the two of them headed towards the Preston Inn.

Dillon was relieved to see that the hotel was in a nicer part of town. Streetlamps lined the sidewalk in front of the building, and a parking garage just behind the freshly renovated, white-brick structure provided safe and ample parking.

Dillon pulled into a spot across the street from the hotel. As soon as the car stopped, Jamie turned to him, a look of surprise visible on his face even in the dim glow of the streetlights. "Why are you stopping here? Why didn't you pull into the parking garage?"

Time to put his cards on the table. "I'm not pulling into the garage until you and I get a few things settled."

Dillon heard Jamie pull in a deep breath. "What things?"

"Things like, what is it you want from this relationship?"

"I'm not following you."

Dillon could tell. Okay, time to spell it out. "Like I told you at the police station, I want to know where we stand. Are we an 'us'--a real couple--or are we just two guys playing around. I know I'm serious, but I'm not sure about you. The more of these plans you make without me, the more I feel you pulling away."

Jamie reached for his hand. "Dillon, I swear to God it isn't like that. I want us to be partners." Jamie dropped Dillon's hand long enough to wipe his face with his palm. "I know I shouldn't have run off like that without talking to you first. I just didn't want you to be mad at me."

Dillon picked Jamie's hand back up. "People in relationships get mad at each other, Jamie. It's just part of the deal. That's where trust comes in. Each of us has to trust the other to forgive and move on. I'm not your master here, just like you aren't mine. I don't wanna tell you how to live your life, I just wanna be a part of it. Please."

Jamie nodded. "I want that, too." He paused. "You said you had 'things' you needed to know, as in more than one. What else?"

Dillon cleared his throat. He was gonna do it. He was gonna offer up his heart on a silver platter. "I need to know what you want to happen tonight, Jamie. I mean, I told you I loved you, and you didn't say a word. God, you don't know what that did to me, to tell you how I felt and have you just stand there."

Jamie went totally still. "You're wrong, Dillon. I do know how it feels."

Christ. Dillon had said the wrong damn thing again. How many times had Jamie told Dillon he loved him, only to have Dillon brush it off, to ignore it? Maybe this was payback, an eye for an eye long delayed. "Is that why you didn't say anything? Are you giving me a taste of my own medicine, or is it that you really don't love me and don't have the heart to tell me?"

Jamie shook his head with violent intensity. "No. God no." He let go of Dillon's hand and laid his own hand on Dillon's chest, just over his heart. "I didn't say anything because I was in shock, Dillon. That's the first time you've ever said you loved me. I wasn't sure if you even meant it or not."

Dillon placed his hand over Jamie's and looked into his eyes. "I meant it, every word. I love you, Jamie."

Jamie's voice was soft, but his words were sparkling with clarity. "I love you, too."

To hear those four incredible words spill from Jamie's soft lips again--to be able to say them back--took Dillon's breath away. Still, he managed to say, "What is it you want from me, Jamie? Tell me and I'll do it."

Jamie leaned forward until his mouth was almost touching Dillon's. "I want everything you have to give. I want your heart, your soul, your life blended into mine. I want all of that." His voice turned husky. "And right now, more than anything, I want you to take me into that hotel and make love to me."