Heated Beat 02 - Lucky Man (17 page)

“We got hit by the same car. Bastard rolled on his own knife. He’ll live.”

Finn tried to picture that and cringed, glad Danny couldn’t see him. A part of him wanted to know every grisly detail, but most of him was struggling to cope with the very real notion that a few seconds either way could’ve taken Danny away from him forever. “What happens now?”

“Now we have to make sure the case against him is watertight. He’s got to go down, or it’s all for nothing.”

Danny’s bleak tone alarmed Finn. “Could that happen?”

Danny shrugged a little. “If we’ve fucked up somewhere. The DNA evidence is pretty conclusive from Gemma’s scene, at least. Now we have to prove he killed the others too, unless he confesses… shit.”

Finn frowned as Danny paled. “You all right? Something hurt?”

“Nah.” Danny blinked a few times. “Just remembered something I need to add to my statement. Is Sara okay?”

Finn wasn’t convinced by Danny’s brave face, but he let it go. What was he supposed to do? Convince Danny to fall apart? “Sara’s fine, mate. I left her with Jack, remember? Will’s cooking. They’ll look after her.”

“Does she know what happened?”

“She doesn’t know about this.” Finn touched Danny’s forehead just below the stitched gash. “She knows about the murders, though. Will turned the telly on before I could stop him. He didn’t know. I’m sorry. She was okay, though, if it’s any consolation. She’s a tough little thing.”

“I wouldn’t know. We hardly know each other.” Danny sighed, and Finn waited. Danny was exhausted, but he needed to talk, even if he didn’t know it. “I saw her, you know…. Sara, when we found Gemma. For a minute. I hadn’t thought about Sara in weeks. Then I saw this dead, broken girl, and her face was my sister and everything I hadn’t done for her.”

“They’re the same age, aren’t they?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, but it was more than that. It was like a sign when she turned up on my doorstep, a warning of what I’m going to lose if I don’t man up and take care of her.”

“You do take care of her, Danny. She told me you bought all her uni stuff. Paid for her driving lessons. Her laptop. I reckon, as older brothers go, she thinks you’re pretty perfect.”

Danny shook his head. “I’m not there when it matters. We fell out yesterday. She said she wanted to know me better, so I brought her to your gig.”

“That’s why you brought her to see me?”

“Think so.” Danny opened his eyes. “You and my work… that pretty much
is
me. I don’t care about anything else… ’cept maybe her. Yeah, definitely her. Fuck. I’m so bloody wasted on that codeine crap.”

“You’re kind of cute, all stoned and shit.”

Danny smiled, loopy and exhausted. “Cute? Whatever floats your boat, mate.”

“You float my boat.”

“Glad to hear it.” And for the first time in weeks, real happiness crept into Danny’s tired gaze. He reached for Finn and tugged him down into a tight hug, the kind of hug that tied two souls together forever, like he’d never let go. “’Cause I’m a little bit in love with you.”

The world—Finn’s world, at least—changed forever in that moment. He kissed Danny again, a long, slow kiss, the kind of kiss that led to more… much more, but despite a rush of heat between them, Danny was asleep before Finn could pull back for air.

Finn watched him for a long moment, then covered Danny with the duvet and whispered in his ear, “I love you too. Merry Christmas.”

Epilogue

C
HILDHOOD
SUMMER
holidays in Newquay had always held a special place in Danny’s heart. He’d learned to swim in the sea at Fistral Beach when he was six and had his first real kiss behind the cavernous rocks a decade later.

That year had been the last time Danny made the trip with his parents and Sara. After that he’d pissed off to Magaluf with his mates every summer, and the Cornish coast had faded to a distant memory. For some reason he’d never dreamed he’d go back.

And yet here he was. With the sun in his face, Danny tipped his beer bottle to his lips and closed his eyes. He’d missed most of Finn’s summer tour, and he’d spent long, hot nights alone in bed dreaming of Finn, but he’d joined the tour in Bristol the day before, seen Finn headline the Big Chill festival, Jack on his DJ decks, Finn dancing around the brightly lit stage with a banjo and a harmonica. That gig had been wild and shown Danny a side of Finn he’d never seen before, but this, here and now, Finn on the rocks by the Cornish sea, the wind in his hair, just his guitar and Jack on a set of bongo drums for company… yeah, it was pretty fucking perfect.

Finn closed the show with a rhythmic take on a Nick Drake track. Danny hauled himself from the warm sand and met him at the side of the stage. Finn jumped down into his arms, and Danny kissed him and held him tight. They were more guarded with their public affection back home, for an easy life more than anything else, but here, with sea behind them and the sun warming their backs, Danny didn’t give a shit who saw him claim Finn as his own.

“That set was amazing.” Danny tucked Finn’s hair behind his ears. “I didn’t know Jack could be so mellow.”

Behind them, Will snorted, on his way to grab his own man. “He’s knackered. If he’d played this gig a month ago, he and Finn would’ve had a punch-up.”

“It’s true,” Finn admitted. “Dickhead drives me mental when he doesn’t do what he’s told.”

Will chuckled and disappeared. Danny watched him go, then shook his head. “I can’t imagine you punching anyone.”

“Yeah?” Finn lunged at Danny, strong, agile, and beautiful, but Danny was quicker and had Finn restrained before either of them could blink. Finn laughed. “Never learn, do I?”

Danny kissed Finn’s cheek. “Nope, but I like it, especially when we do this naked.”

Finn smirked. Danny let him go before things could escalate, and together they made their way to Danny’s patch of sun-warmed sand.

Danny sat behind Finn, arms around him, watching the sun go down until he put his head between Finn’s shoulder blades and closed his eyes. Being with Finn like this, so happy and carefree, sometimes didn’t feel real, like it was a fleeting dream.

Finn reached back and found Danny’s hand. He understood. Of course he did. Finn understood Danny better than anyone, and he let Danny have his moment for a while. The festival was winding down, and aside from a few polite autograph hunters, most people left them alone. Danny didn’t look up until Finn twisted in his arms.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?”

Talk about what?
The asinine response was on the tip of Danny’s tongue, but he bit it back. He’d been late joining Finn on tour because, after months of case-management hearings, Bill Hughes had finally stood trial for the murders of four young women Danny still saw in his sleep.

Finally. That was a word that didn’t mean much. Danny had watched cases drag out much longer, but due to the case’s high media profile and Bill Hughes’s guilty plea, the court date had come through just eight months after the arrest.

Still felt like a lifetime, though. The guilty plea had meant it took a judge less than an hour to sentence Bill Hughes to fifteen years imprisonment for each murder, but the cool, calm lack of remorse for the defendant would stay with Danny forever. He didn’t want it to stay with Finn too.

“It was fine,” Danny said eventually. “Hughes will die in prison, and I know you know that because I was with Bigsy when he called you.”

“
You
didn’t call me.”

“Yes, I did. I called you when I got home.”

Finn scowled, though Danny could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He already knew nothing on earth would make Danny talk about the horrors he and Lanes had painstakingly documented in the case files they’d handed to the CPS. About the brutal images they’d discovered on Hughes’s computer when they’d searched his home. About the handwritten plans to snatch more victims off the streets. About the all too real possibility Bill Hughes had killed more women than anyone would ever know, including the fifteen-year-old schoolgirl in Finn’s hometown all those years ago.

Danny’s stomach churned. Unsolved murders up and down the country had been reopened to see if they could be linked to Hughes, but even without more bodies to his name, he was still the most prolific known killer of recent years.

Finn touched Danny’s face and then the scar, half-hidden by Danny’s hair. “Still with me?”

Danny smiled. Of course he was. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Good.” Finn was silent a moment, and then he let out a wistful sigh. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Maybe we should.” Danny lay back and pulled Finn on top of him. Shorts, T-shirts, bare legs. Damn, it felt good. “You reckon anyone would miss us?”

“Sara would. We could get a house with a room for her, right?”

Danny pulled a face. His relationship with his baby sister was closer than he’d ever dared imagine, but she was still twelve years his junior and pretty fucking annoying despite how endearing the growing friendship between her and Finn was to witness. “Maybe a caravan down the road.”

Finn laughed. “Can you imagine? You’d have to be one of those country bumpkin coppers with wellies and a wax jacket.”

“Piss off.” Danny silenced Finn with a kiss. “Are we going back to the cottage tonight?”

Finn grinned. “I reckon so. Jack and Will aren’t staying. They’re driving to Will’s dad’s place tonight, so we’ll have the cottage all to ourselves.”

That suited Danny. Finn’s close-knit bandmates had slowly but surely become Danny’s friends too, but he hadn’t truly been alone with Finn for weeks, and the temptation of a deserted seafront cottage was too good to pass up. “Let’s go. And Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care where I am, if you’re there too.”

F
INN
PUSHED
Danny down on the bed. Clothes disappeared. T-shirts, shorts, underwear—Finn was pretty sure he heard something rip, but with Danny’s heated skin against him, he didn’t care to look.

They rolled over and over, fighting for dominance, a fight Finn didn’t care if he won or lost because there was no losing in bed with Danny. He was everything Finn had ever dreamed of and more, and Finn was fast growing to learn topping Danny was as mind-blowing as letting Danny turn him inside out.

Before long Finn found himself on his back, Danny covering his body from their entwined feet to their lips. Danny hard against him felt amazing, but Finn wanted more, much more. Needed more. It had been too many long weeks since they’d been naked together, and when circumstance allowed, Finn had thought of little else.

He pulled Danny down for a kiss, anchoring himself on Danny’s strong neck.
I need you.

Attuned to Finn like no other ever had been, Danny snaked a hand between them. He found Finn’s cock, then his own, and jacked them together until Finn’s eyes rolled. “What do you want?”

“You.” Finn bit down on his lip as Danny tightened his grip. “Just you… I don’t care. Just you.”

Danny chuckled, low and deep. “You’ve always had that, mate. From the moment I saw you.”

Finn opened his eyes. Danny said shit like that from time to time. Just a few little words that made Finn’s heart ache in all the right ways.

He gripped Danny’s shoulders and rolled them over. “I see you all the time. Even when you’re not there.”

The double meaning didn’t faze Danny. He widened his legs and let Finn slip between them. “Show me.”

Finn didn’t need telling twice. He moved over Danny and pressed his lips to his throat, knowing it drove Danny wild, and felt around for the stash they’d hidden under a pillow when they’d arrived that morning.

He prepped Danny with gentle fingers, then slid inside him, watching, absorbing Danny’s silent gasp and waiting for Danny to respond. Danny had fooled him the first time they’d done this, tentative and quiet, like he didn’t know what he liked. Then he’d flexed his hips, once, twice, and flipped Finn over, riding Finn until Finn felt he would surely combust.

Or at least come so fast he’d never look Danny in the eye ever again.

Thankfully neither had happened, but that slow, early morning fuck had changed things between them and shown Finn a new side to his stoic, brooding lover.

Danny wrapped his legs around Finn and nudged him on with his heels. “Mmm. Forgot how amazing you feel like this.”

“Yeah? What about this?” Finn rocked his hips in a biting push and slide, knowing Danny got off on a bit of rough. “Or this?”

Danny’s eyes rolled. “That’ll—fuck—do it. Again.”

Finn obliged and fucked Danny as hard as he dared, until the only sounds in the room were harsh breaths, moans, and the bedframe hitting the wall.

Danny arched his back. “I’m gonna come.”

Finn groaned with relief. Danny had always been bad for his stamina. He gritted his teeth and fought the inferno building in his belly. Danny had been jacking himself in time with Finn’s cock inside him, but as Finn’s hand joined his, he slowed right down, gaze locked on Finn’s like neither one of them had ever been anywhere else but that moment.

Danny came with a low cry. Finn watched him unravel, then followed, startled as ever, by the bone-jarring convulsions Danny teased from him with just the scrape of his blunt nails down Finn’s spine.

Finn collapsed on Danny’s chest, ignoring the mess between them. His heart hammered, his limbs trembled, and he’d never felt more alive.

Danny blew warm air in his ear. “All right?”

Finn’s grunt was noncommittal. Fire still burned his veins, but his muscles had deserted him and he couldn’t see himself ever leaving the comforting strength of Danny’s chest.

But Mother Nature wasn’t so kind. Eventually the sticky mess sealing them together cooled enough to rouse Finn from his postcoital daze. He got up and floated to the bathroom for a wet flannel. He cleaned them both up and then washed his hands.

The pull back to Danny was strong… too strong to ignore for long, but as Finn turned, he glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled. The stain of the Cornish sun looked good on him, but more than that, he looked sated, content, and… happy.