Shades of Gray (21 page)

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“DANNY… Danny?”

“Hmmm, what?” Danny barely glanced up from his plate. His
mind was a million miles away, but if pressed, he wouldn’t be able to
name a single thought inside his head.

“I was thinking, when my supervised release is over next year,
maybe we could get a place together.”

Danny’s head bobbed up to find Griff observing him with neutral
eyes. Someone who didn’t know him would think he didn’t care at all
about Danny’s answer. But Danny knew better. He caught the little
muscle jumping at the corner of Griff’s mouth, the way it always did
when he was nervous. Danny had seen that particular twitch more than
a few times in the months they’d spent behind bars, when trouble came
at them from all directions.

“Well, what do you think?” Griff prodded, when Danny failed to
respond.

“I’m married.”

Griff snorted out a laugh. “Since when? Last I heard, you were
separated. You honestly think you and Amanda are going to try
again?”

“No,” Danny admitted.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“What about you? You really willing to give up all the women
162 | Brooke McKinley

you haven’t slept with yet?”

“Don’t make this about me,” Griff said, his voice gone quiet. A
sure sign he was getting pissed. “I’m ready to give up women, and the
rest of the men too. What are you ready for, Danny?”
Danny had known this conversation was coming, ever since Griff
had gotten out of Leavenworth six months ago. They’d been seeing a
lot of each other, even though it was a violation of their terms of
supervised release. Having Griff around was comforting to Danny,
made him feel less alone in the wake of Amanda’s leaving, taking
herself and all her familiar habits to a new apartment across the city.

But comforting was one thing… and making a life together was
something else entirely.

“It’s too dangerous,” Danny said. “I don’t want you to get
involved in my work.”

Griff leaned back, tossing his hair out of his eye. “Why don’t you
give me a reason that isn’t complete bullshit? How about that?”

“It’s not bullshit!”

“Danny, you know the life I’ve had. You know the crap I’ve been
mixed up in. There’s nothing you can put in my way that I haven’t seen
before. I can handle it.”

“I just—” Danny cut his eyes away, watching two girls at the bar
smooth on lipstick, giggling to each other behind their cupped hands.

“I just don’t think we’re right for each other. I don’t think we have
what it takes. Not in the long run.”

Danny would always be grateful to Griff for being his friend, for
watching his back in Leavenworth, for never judging him. But he
couldn’t tell Griff that without risking a fist
in
the face. Those were
words no man in love wanted to hear—no matter how heartfelt, those
sentiments would only sound like pity.

Griff finished his cigarette, eyes on the table. Danny twirled his
now-cold pasta around and around his fork without taking a single
bite.

“Okay,” Griff said. “You want to end this, then?”
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“Not the friendship. But the rest of it… yeah, we probably
should.”

Griff grabbed his half-empty pack of cigarettes, yanking his
jacket off the back of his chair as he stood. “Don’t be a stranger,
Danny.”

Danny tried to smile. “I won’t.” He held out his hand and Griff
took it in his own, sliding his palm smoothly across Danny’s, the way
they always did. “I’m sorry, Griff.”

“Me too.”

Danny finished his beer after Griff left, but his plate of food went
back to the kitchen uneaten. The romantic part of Danny—that hidden
kernel that not even years of living under his father and Hinestroza had
killed—wished he could fall in love with Griff. He didn’t know if his
capacity to love had been stunted, buried beneath the need for survival
for
so long it had forgotten how to breathe, or whether it was simply
Griff himself who failed to evoke stronger feelings. But he understood
how dangerous it would be to truly love someone, the power that would
give Hinestroza. As lonely as he was, he couldn’t help but feel thankful
he’d never experienced that rush of emotion for Griff, or anyone else.

Danny’s life was not his own; every move that mattered was dictated
by outside forces. Danny’s soul-deep love for another human being was
the last remaining trump card Hinestroza didn’t hold.

MILLER woke up wrapped around Danny, his head on Danny’s chest, their legs twisted together beneath the sheets. Miller had never been a cuddler; he didn’t like anyone touching him while he slept. Rachel teased him about it, but he sensed her undercurrent of hurt, stung by the fact that he didn’t want her too close while his body rested. But sleeping with Danny, that turned out to be different. Danny followed him around the bed like a heat-seeking missile, some part of his body always in contact with Miller’s: foot, hand, full-body press. And the funny thing was, if he woke up and Danny wasn’t touching him, he solved that problem immediately, curling around Danny’s back, 164 | Brooke McKinley

drawing Danny onto his shoulder, searching for a free hand. Danny managed to break all of his rules, both big and small, inserting his own game plan into every facet of Miller’s life.

Miller rolled onto his side of the bed, squinting at the time on his cell phone. He’d called Colin last night after Danny had fallen into exhausted sleep and made arrangements for him to bring a car over this morning. He only had about ten minutes before Colin showed up at the door. Miller threw on his clothes from yesterday, the only ones he had, and went out to wait in the parking lot. The last thing he needed was for Colin to catch an eyeful of the lone bed in the motel room, or Danny lying naked across it.

The morning was cold. Miller was grateful to the shining sun both for the warmth of the rays and the necessity of slipping on his mirrored shades. He didn’t want to face Colin unarmored. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the aging wall of the motel, his coat scraping loose tiny bits of pink stucco to scatter at his feet. He was pretty sure Colin didn’t believe him about the gun, and his job was riding on how he handled the situation from this point on. If Colin pulled him off the case, it would send a clear signal that he didn’t have what it took to move up through the ranks.

Last night you thought Danny being alive was the only thing that
mattered.

But last night things had been simple. Fear distilled everything down to its fundamental essence—Danny breathing, Danny in his arms, Danny alive. But this morning, in the sunlight, the terror of their narrow escape was receding and other concerns were crowding in around his feelings for Danny—Rachel, his career, Danny’s past, both their futures. Without that blinding fear of death and the relief of outrunning it, real life was asserting its place in the lineup of what mattered.

It wasn’t even an issue of how much Miller was willing to give up or what he was willing to sacrifice, not really. Because the simple fact was that staying with Danny was not possible. There was no way to keep Danny safe here much longer. He needed to move into the next Shades of Gray | 165

phase, obtain his new identity, start preparing to testify, begin his transformation into a different man. Danny was heading into a world where Miller could not follow.

And isn’t that lucky for you? Now you don’t have to make any
tough choices. Can just ride your dirty little secret until the end of the
line, you chicken shit.

Colin arrived five minutes early, driving the dark blue Crown Victoria that Miller knew so well. He got out of the car with cups of coffee in his hands, kicking the door shut with his foot.

“Morning,” he said to Miller, passing him a cup.

“Thanks.” The cardboard was hot against his hands, the coffee steaming into the air as Miller removed the lid for a tentative sip.

“I’ve got another one in the car for Butler.”

“He’s still asleep.”

Colin nodded, perching one hip on the hood of the car. “There are skid marks all over the highway where you said you shot out Juan Madrigal’s tire. And we found the car in the median about a quarter mile down. But it was empty.”

“Shit,” Miller sighed.

“We can move you guys to another apartment today.”

“No.”

“No?” Colin raised his eyebrows.

“If we’re in an FBI apartment, there will be too many people who can be bribed. It’s safer if we just move from motel to motel every couple of days. You and I will be the only ones who know where Danny’s staying.”

“Speaking of bribes, it was the clerk you talked to at the police station who gave Madrigal the dog walker’s report. For a lousy two hundred bucks.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“After I talked to you the first time yesterday, I confirmed that a report had been filed at the police station, so I went down there to talk 166 | Brooke McKinley

to the clerk. He denied knowing anything about it. But I leaned on him and eventually he broke.”

“See?” Miller exclaimed, throwing out an arm. “It’s not safe for too many people to know where Danny’s located.”

“You can trust our people, Miller.”

“Anybody can be bribed, Colin. Or threatened.” Colin ran a weary hand over his face. “Okay. We’ll do it this way.

For the time being.”

Miller nodded, risking a bigger gulp of hot coffee.

“I heard back from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. Patterson’s handling the Hinestroza case. She said she wants to meet with us later this week.”

“Why? Shouldn’t we meet with the Marshall’s Office first?” Colin shrugged. “Who knows? It’s going to be a high-profile case. She probably wants to make sure all her ducks are in a row. I’ll let you know the date and time once I have the details.”

“Fine.”

Colin stared at Miller through his sunglasses. “So, that can of mace thing? That was pretty lame.”

“What do you mean?”

“Miller… come on.”

“It was mace, Colin.”

Colin pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. “I get the feeling something’s not exactly kosher with this case.”

“I already said the walk was a mistake. What else—”

“It’s not the walk I’m worried about.”

Miller kicked at a small pile of loose gravel on the edge of the parking lot, a few tired weeds hanging onto life between the asphalt cracks. “There’s no reason to worry,” he said, wanting to end the conversation. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” Shades of Gray | 167

“No.” Colin gestured toward a cab idling at the far end of the street. “That’s mine. Here,” he said, as he opened the car door and grabbed the extra cup of coffee. “Let me know when you change motels.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Colin shielded his eyes with one hand as he squinted at Miller in the sunlight. “Be careful.”

“Yeah. We will.”

The bed was empty when Miller let himself back into the motel room, the sound of the toilet flushing carrying out into the seedy little room. The sooner they moved out of this crap-hole, the better.

“Is that coffee?” Danny asked hopefully, emerging from the bathroom in his boxers, scratching his chest with one hand.

“Yeah.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Colin brought it when he dropped off a car for us.” Danny took a sip through the tiny hole in the lid of the cup. “Ah, it’s the good stuff,” he said with approval. “Who’s Colin? Your boss?”

“Not exactly.” Miller shrugged out of his coat. “But he is my supervisor on this case.”

“Is he the one you lied to yesterday? About the gun?” Danny asked, eyes on Miller over his tilted cup.

Miller nodded, exhaling a weary sigh.

“He a good guy?”

“Yes, he’s a really good guy.” Miller looked down at the floor.

Danny reached forward and took his hand. “Come on,” he said gently.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to bed. It’s cold in here. The heater in this dump doesn’t work for shit.”

Miller didn’t protest, just kicked off his shoes and climbed under 168 | Brooke McKinley

the covers, back resting against the wall next to Danny.

Danny laid his foot on top of Miller’s. “You know what sounds good right now?”

“What?”

“Pancakes.”

Miller made a face, wrinkling up his nose in the age-old expression of distaste.

“You don’t like pancakes?”

“Not really.”

“Who the hell doesn’t like pancakes?” Danny asked, leaning forward to peer into Miller’s face with his eyebrows cocked.

Miller shrugged. “I just don’t like sweet stuff for breakfast.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re secretly a wheat germ, granola type guy.”

He laughed, shoving Danny’s shoulder with his own. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What’s your favorite food? I mean, if you could have anything you wanted for dinner, what would it be?”

Miller turned to look at Danny, his dark head resting against the uniform white of the wall. “Why do you want to know—”

“You always say you know everything about me. Right?”

“Right.”

“Well, now I’m returning the favor. Just humor me, okay?” Danny brushed his fingers through the hair at Miller’s temple.

“Okay.” Miller smiled, leaning into Danny’s hand without even thinking about it. “Chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and homemade gravy.”

Danny grinned. “You are from Kansas.”

“Yep.”

They sipped their coffee, Danny’s toes rubbing against the top of Miller’s foot.

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