“Go take a rest. You’re having a really hard time in this house, aren’t you?”
Nathan shrugged.
“I can tell. So go sleep it off. I’ll watch over the place.”
“I thought you were going to look into the future again.”
Avery nodded. “Soon as you’re up and about, I will. No hurry. What’s coming is coming, and nothing we can do will change that.”
“But we can be prepared.” How would his confrontation with his uncle work out this time? Nathan wasn’t a child any longer. He’d grown strong, powerful, and he knew how to handle danger. This time Malcolm Dixon wouldn’t walk away.
“Right. Prepared. One of my favorite words.” Avery gifted him with a small smile. “Now go lie down before you fall down. I’ll hold the fort, dimples.”
For once, the nickname didn’t annoy him. Avery sounded almost caring. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Exactly. Long as you recognize that I’m in charge, this will go smoothly for all of us. And Dixon won’t know what hit him when he gets here.”
Nathan nodded and entered his bedroom, weary beyond what should have been normal. The grief he’d been working to suppress for days caught up with him, and he turned from Avery and lay down in bed. He pulled the covers over his shoulder and faced the wall. “Shut the door behind you,” he said in a low voice.
Avery didn’t answer. The door shut softly, and Nathan felt himself alone. All alone.
He let the tears fall, aching for his aunt—his mother—for all she’d lost. More than just her life, but a caring, devoted husband. Whatever had happened to change his uncle had changed them all. He remembered her smiling face. The years spent after Malcolm, so much joy in just being with her. She made holidays, his birthday, even his sporting events so much more. Nathan tried but couldn’t stop crying.
God, Mom. I miss you.
Chapter Five
Avery felt terrible. He’d pushed the door open a crack to check on Nathan and had seen his partner shaking under the covers. The small sobs he tried to hide ripped Avery apart. But he left Nathan alone, knowing he wouldn’t want anyone to witness his breakdown.
The guy had been holding it together for days. After he’d flown back from Danielle’s funeral, he’d demanded they set out to recover the stolen blade. Their boss hadn’t complained, but he’d shot Avery a look, one that said to take care of his partner. Hauling Nathan’s ass out of bar after bar hadn’t been fun but necessary. Fucking him? Necessary and fun, but in retrospect, not in Nathan’s best interests.
Then again, maybe something they’d done had shaken Nathan’s reserve, because this was the first time Avery had seen his partner grieve.
Nathan had to get it out. Holding on to that much pain would only make it worse. He needed to be clearheaded and focused when they met up with Dixon. From the information Ian kept filtering through Avery’s e-mail, the news continued to grow worse.
Malcolm Dixon was not only a killer but an unofficial cleanup man for the CIA. Wonderful. As if that weren’t bad enough, according to Agency files, the shit the man could do with a weapon would make anyone nervous, Avery included. Malcolm’s skill seemed to be a lot like Nathan’s, except Malcolm could not only see impressions off weapons but also use the skills of those who had once wielded them. Guns, knives, swords—Malcolm mastered them all.
Avery still wondered exactly how Nathan had overpowered his uncle all those years ago. He’d had to have been all of thirteen, up against a mature man who’d been trained to kill. He had a feeling Nathan hadn’t told him the whole truth about the incident.
He sighed and moved back into the kitchen, needing something to do. After a few moments spent gathering tools, he began sanding the kitchen cabinets in need of a new stain. While he worked, he tried to think how he might have handled the situation in Nathan’s place.
So say his aunt died, and he found out she was really his mother. He had no other siblings, no family, just her. According to Jack, Nathan and his aunt were really tight. Just great. Avery would be missing the hell out of his aunt, angry she’d lied to him, and then thrust back into the nightmare of his past. He’d have to work with a partner he didn’t really know or even like, truth to tell, but one who made his cock hard nonetheless. At the mercy of his hormones, his grief, and a danger coming closer day by day.
Was it any wonder Nathan had wanted to drink his worries away? Hell, Avery couldn’t blame him. Nathan hurt, and he reached out, wanting to feel better. Sure, sex was an easy cure. But like the booze, it was also a crutch. Avery swore at himself as he sanded chipped paint off the cabinets. He shouldn’t have given in to desire and been with Nathan yesterday.
So what that he couldn’t remember any of his past lovers after that brief interlude? And sure, Nathan was sexier than hell. The man didn’t know what he was doing. Despite the attraction between them, Nathan had never acted on it before. Shit, just days ago he’d been trying to fuck anything that moved. Strangers would do. Was Avery really any different from those available partners?
Why did it fucking piss him off to think he was just like all the rest of the men in Nathan’s life—disposable? Avery felt as if he’d lost something in their sexual exploration. Coming twice, kissing the man, feeling that taut flesh against his… He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Him.
With a disgusted curse, he threw down the sanding block and made his way back up the stairs toward Nathan’s room. A peek inside showed his partner sound asleep. Thank God. Avery walked next door and decided to make better use of his time than fixing up a tired house. Instead he tried to piece together the puzzle that was Malcolm Dixon. What made the man tick? Why had he turned from loving his wife to almost killing her and her nephew? Why abuse a small boy the way he had? Had the government been responsible for his change? Or had he always been bad to the bone? What would he be like now?
Hours later after pouring through every nugget Ian had sent him, Avery came back to the same clue that puzzled the hell out of him. Why had Danielle sent her son to live with her sister? Who had she slept with while Malcolm worked abroad? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had a feeling the answers to everything lay with Danielle Dixon. And only one person could help him solve the questions that plagued him.
The poor bastard getting some much-needed rest next door.
Nathan woke feeling deeply rested. A glance out the window showed night had fallen. Hell, he must have slept the day away. He rose, took care of his needs, and dressed. After a hurried race through the cold hallway and down the stairs, he entered into a cozy living room. The gas fire burned. The lights had been turned low, and the smell of Chinese food made his mouth water. Then he noticed Avery sitting in an oversize chair reading a book and had to check himself for drool. Good God, the man did wonders for jeans and sweaters.
Avery glanced up and put the book aside. “Finally awake, I see. Feeling better?”
“Yeah, I am, actually.” Nathan rubbed his stomach, famished. “What’s to eat?”
“Take your pick. Noodles, rice, chicken, and shrimp. It’s in the kitchen.”
Nathan left Avery, loaded up a plate, and returned to the living room. Avery watched him with an intent look that discomfited him. “What?”
“Just wondering if you being here is the right thing.”
Nathan groaned. “Not this again. You already saw me here. What the hell, man?”
“In a vision. But you said it yourself. I don’t know when I saw you. Might be a year from now that you confront Dixon.” In a low voice, Avery added, “You need time to get through all this.”
“You sound like you care.”