Page 81 of Broken Wheels

“I don’t have to convince you of anything,” Josh growled. He smacked a hand on the table, then pulled it back, because damn, that hurt. “I’m a grown man and I don’t need anyone else to make my decisions for me.”

“A grown man?” Dixon baited. “Please. You’re acting like a peevish child now who isn’t getting his way. Does it suck we’re doing this? Hell yes, it sucks donkey balls. Are we doing it to upset you? Of course we’re not. And if I’m honest, I’d rather be here with you alive and pissed at me than standing over your grave and wondering where the hell I went wrong.” He held out his hand for Josh’s, and this time Josh allowed it. “What’s going on in your head? Talk to me. Please.”

Dixon’s pleading expression and that final word undid Josh. He couldn’t lie, especially not to the man who risked his life to protect Josh’s.

“I’m a scientist,” he said at last. “I like experiments that allow me to go from point A to point B all the way to point Z. It’s a structured approach, it’s linear, but it’s also flexible enough that I can toss in a random variable and still get through the whole thing without a problem. But this?” He pointed to Porter’s picture first, then in order from Abbas to Michael, to Benny’s, then to Hank’s, and finally to Gary’s. “I’m looking for something that connects these people, so I can dig deeper and find any other dangling threads that might link them too. This is more like a detective would do.” Josh bit his lip. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I am no detective.”

“But you are,” Dixon retorted. “Think about it. You sift through evidence every day, looking to improve something or to remake it. The pads, for example. Is this your first design?”

“Well no, but?—”

“And how many times have you redesigned them?”

Josh frowned. “I’d have to check, but when I figure out ways to improve battery life without sacrificing screen resolution or camera pixels, or if I come up with something innovative to add, I make a new version.”

Dixon gave a triumphant nod. “That’s exactly what you’re doing here. Porter is the first pad. He worked, but wasn’t as reliable as you wanted, so you tinkered with it, and from that you got your second version. This one was way better than the original, but that didn’t stop you from adding new features—like friends—and rebuilding it.” He smiled. “You will never stop upgrading your pad, just like you never stop moving forward with your life. There will be bumps in the road, sure, but it’s those things that make that life exciting.” He pointed to the board. “And maybe strings aren’t the best way to go about this, because you see them, tangling and overlapping, and your mind is crushed by the overwhelming mess that is life.”

It was true. The string method was indeed a mess. Josh had seen it on The Flash when it first came on, so he tried to use it for his own, but it wasn’t him. Not at all.

One can’t sort chaos by resorting to more of it.

Dixon squeezed his hand. “Now, do you still want to go home?”

Josh shook his head. “I never did. I’m just afraid, I guess.”

“Which I understand completely. You’re not a bodyguard. You aren’t trained to deal with this kind of work. Yet you were thrown into the deep end without so much as a life preserver.” He straightened. “So, how about we do this? I’m pretty good with my fingers, as you well know. How about we make a spreadsheet and you dictate while I input?”

That sounded amazing. The first thought to flit through his mind, however, was that Dixon was very good with his fingers. The tingling in Josh’s ass was evidence of that. Then he pushed the distracting sensation from his head. What humbled Josh was that even after his meltdown, Dixon was still there by his side.

I will never take that for granted. Ever.

Dix didn’t regret offering to help, but he was concerned he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Doc went through all the information he’d acquired, and Dix typed as Doc read it off. It was no wonder Doc was freaking out, because he’d pulled together a shit ton of names, dates, and locations. When hunger overcame him, Dix got on with cooking them something simple for dinner—chicken tenders and macaroni and cheese—while Doc followed the chain of the networks, seeing what they had in common.

“Other than them having really bad security, I’m not finding much,” Doc called out, his voice tinged with sadness.

“And maybe that’s all there is,” Dix replied, stirring shredded cheese and milk into the pot of cooked elbow pasta. “Sometimes a dead end is just that. But there are other times when you think it’s leading nowhere, but then you take another look and find a new door to go through.”

Doc hummed. “You know, when I go in to do an experiment or work on the pad or whatever, I’m confident in the results, because I know the systems pretty well. I never have to worry that if I mess up, someone will rain down hellfire on everyone around me. I’m pretty good with hacking, but there are people out there far superior to me. I’m not sure they won’t be able to track me.”

That doubtful tone spoke volumes.

Dix turned the stove off and went to where Doc was sitting, staring at the screen. Even if I had a hundred years with this man, I would continually be finding something new about him. He had no idea Doc was so nervous about everything and everyone around him.

He put his hands on Doc’s shoulder and kneaded them, his fingertips digging into tense muscles. Doc groaned and let his head fall back so he was staring up at Dix.

“You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

Dix grinned. “Because you got to fuck me into a coma last night? Because I’m pretty good at my job? What’s got you saying it this time?”

Doc huffed. “We do need to work on your modesty, though. But I’m serious. You are amazing. If it wasn’t for you, I doubt I’d be able to focus on this stuff at all. Look at the board. Each string would take me off on a new tangent, and I’d be lost trying to follow them to a logical conclusion. I know I’m pretty smart?—”

“You’re a genius.” Dix kissed the top of his head. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Doc snorted. “Michael said that once too. I had to disabuse him of that thought very quickly. I’m a scatterbrain. You know it, I know it, Michael and Gary know it. I doubt there’s anyone in CrossBow who hasn’t figured that out by now. But I try, you know? I try so hard to be like everyone else.”

“But you’re not everyone else. You’re Josh Malone. Even if we keep genius out of the equation, you’re still a kind, caring, compassionate man. Anyone who has the chance to call you their friend? They’ve been given an amazing gift. Never forget that, Doc.” Dix leaned down and brushed their lips together.

Doc visibly relaxed. “Thank you. I love how you can calm the storm in my head with a few words. No one else has ever been able to do it.”

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