Page 27 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

Cody Gabriel had been on the verge to confessing his habit to his CO when some of the bad cops that made Jackson distrust the breed as a whole had fucked him over and forced him to make a bad choice out of a hand of worse ones. What had been a worrisome habit, picked up to make his cover viable, turned into his entire life in one terrible day. Jackson and Henry had pulled him out of that, and he’d absolved himself with his testimony—and hopefully found some redemption as well. Jackson had promised not to cut the guy loose, and he’d lived up to that. A couple phone calls a week, and he stopped by on the weekends or when he was in the area.

He knew Cody’s nagging little secret.

“He’s bored shitless,” Jackson said, and it was hard not to do a cartwheel as he said it.

“Bet he’d love to ride some shotgun,” Hardison told him.

“Oh no,” Galen muttered, correctly sensing that Ellery would probably have objections.

“Oh yes,” Jackson agreed, and he felt some hope thrumming through his veins, some excitement. Henry would pull through, and Jacksonwouldfind out who’d done this to his friend.

“Oh fuck,” Galen said.

FETZER ANDHardison left shortly after that to go file, Fetzer promised, just enough of a report to make sure their bosses could keep an eye out on the Stepford Dragons and to be alert for kids in the compound where no kids should be, but not enough to make anybody look twice at Galen Henderson.

He’d never pointed out who John was, and Jackson and Ellery were fine with keeping it that way.

For a moment the waiting room was quiet; many of the kids were sleeping, Dex and John were busy on their phones, making sure everybody knew the office could expect a late start the next day and securing their old receptionist, Kelsey, to come sub for Isabelle for a week or so.

Galen had brought his own tablet, but it was currently using the one outlet in the room to charge. Jade’s boyfriend—and Jackson’s good friend—Mike had gone to pick up coffee and breakfast sandwiches for everybody, with careful instructions from Vinnie, one of the flophouse kids, detailing what they would and would not eat. (Mostly, Jackson figured, they’d eat eggs and dry toast. The thought made him shudder. It was no way to live.)

Jackson was restlessly playing a game on his phone when Bobby approached him.

“Heya,” Jackson murmured, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Reg was asleep. There was probably a name for what Reg had suffered from most of his life—his short-term memory wasn’t great, and he had difficulty with words and reading in general, although he tried to read every day. He’d always wanted to be smart, and Bobby, who had come to Sacramento to workright out of high school, had helped him better his education as best he could.

But there was no magic cure for whatever short-circuited in Reg’s brain on a daily basis, and part of the job Bobby had taken on as his lover was to make sure Reg was cared for. Simple things—Bobby’s coat over his shoulders and a borrowed pillow so he could sleep in the chair—kept Reg from losing his composure. If he woke up and Bobby wasn’t where he was expected to be, and he was in a hospital to boot, because those places had bad memories for the two of them, Reg could have averybad night.

“He should be okay,” Bobby said softly. “But… but what can you tell me about my mom? Besides the Disneyland thing?”

Jackson gave the young man a quick smile. “She was scared,” he said bluntly. “But brave. Cowboy was clinging to her. I don’t think she would have agreed to go down south with him otherwise, but you know. The kid had been let down so badly by the women in his life, I guess. She refused to be one more.”

Bobby gave a short nod. “You know my mom’s the best, right? I mean, I didn’t take it easy on her, really. I left fuckin’ Dogpatch, and then, as far as she knows, the next minute I’m gay, and I’ve got a boyfriend, and hey, hello,porn.But she… she never tried to yank that whole ‘You’re my son and I love you,’ thing away from me.”

Jackson grinned at him. “Did she tell you she was disappointed in your life choices?”

Bobby had a wicked grin himself, and a strongly handsome face that had made him a favorite on the website. He was still, as far as Jackson knew, making the occasional video. Reg was proud of him. It wasn’t how Jackson worked—but God, if it worked for these guys, he was all for it. They were solid people.

“She told me I’d never be a teacher,” he said with a shrug. “But I was never smart enough for school as it was. I sort of figured that ship had sailed.”

Jackson doubted that he wasn’t smart enough, but hewasan amazing carpenter, which was how he made his real living. “You were lucky,” he said, meaning it. “And she loved being a mom, I think.”

Bobby nodded soberly. “I knew she was helping John place the kids that he ran into on the street. I just, you know, never thought….”

“Nobody did,” Jackson said, thinking about Henry. “There was no reason for it to be dangerous like that.”

Bobby nodded. “Which is why you shouldn’t blame yourself too much for Henry,” he said, and Jackson felt as though the boy had punched him in the chest—but lovingly so.

“I don’t—”

Bobby shook his head. “Course you do. But don’t. You and Henry, you both do what you can to back people up. If he called you when it was going down, he knew you’d get there. I mean, when I was a kid, I always wished I could fly. Still hasn’t happened. Pretty sure you don’t got wings either. Thanks for what you did for my mom.”

And with that, he stood and made his way back to Reg, and finally, finally, a woman walked in with a bloodstained smock and a set of magnifying specs balanced on the top of her head, and Jackson thought they just might have some news.

Dex and Lance got there first, but Dex grabbed Jackson’s shoulder when he tried to hover in the background, and Jackson was grateful.

“Surgery was a success, mostly,” the surgeon said soberly. “He had some intestinal perforations, which are always tricky, and we had to patch up the leaky parts and clean out the contaminated ones. His shoulder was a through-and-through, sothankfully no shattered bones to contend with. But he’s going to need to be monitored constantly for internal bleeding and infection. We’re looking at a week in the critical-care unit at a minimum, and there’s the possibility of more surgeries in his future. But you can tell his friends—” Her eyes scanned the waiting room and widened slightly. “—all of them,” she said, “that for the moment, he’s stable. He should be coming out of the anesthesia within the hour. We checked his paperwork, and David Worrall?”

Dex nodded.

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