“I won’t let that happen.”
Callum stared at me. “You can’t promise that. Can you?”
I wanted to say yes, but I wouldn’t be in charge. His story about Mr. Smith was so believable, I couldn’t imagine the gaming folks would prosecute him, but there were assholes in every department. They might think he’d cooperate better with the threat of prison time hanging over him.
I’d been silent too long. Callum whirled away. “You should go.”
“Just because I’m trying to get you to do the right thing?—”
“Ha. Right thing for a cop. Do you ever for one minute take the uniform off?”
The promise to say nothing was eating at me, which is why I snapped, “The last time I did that, people were being stuffed in shipping containers. You think a little sports betting is a big deal?”
“God, no. It could end my career, but it’s not a big deal. To you.”
“Be reasonable?—”
Callum pivoted and punched the wall. The drywall gave under his fist, leaving a dent smeared with a trace of blood. Callum stared at the damage, then raised his head to glare at me. “Get out!” He pointed at the door, colour high in his cheeks. “I’ll call you the next time I need someone to tell me to be fuckingreasonable. Out!”
I wanted to grab him and shake him and tell him to wise up, or to check his hand and tell him he was a fool for hurting himself. Which in the end had me turning on my heel and marching out the door. Because I had no doubt, in that moment,if I laid hands on Callum in any way, even in kindness, he’d punch me too. We both needed to cool down.
I stomped across the lawn back to my house. Jos sat at our kitchen table with the debris of fast food scattered around him. He looked up from his phone as I barged in. “Did you talk to Callum?”
“Yes!” I snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. He’s… going through some things. He doesn’t want me hanging around while he thinks it through.”
“Oh.” Jos flipped a piece of wrapper between his fingers. “Is he going to come out, like, to the media?”
“Huh?”
“What he’s thinking about. If he dates you, would he have to come out?”
“Ah. No, this isn’t about being gay.” Other than Wayne’s threats to out him, which was the last thing Callum needed. But him kicking me out was about me putting my cop hat on when maybe I should’ve stuck to the boyfriend hat. My certainty that I’d been right was already fading. “He needs time, so just leave him alone.”
“I don’t want him around anyway.” Jos shoved away from the table and ran up to his room. He’d left the debris of his dinner scattered around, but I couldn’t face making him come back down to clean up.
I sat in front of my congealing burger and put my face in my hands.What now?I’d promised Callum to say nothing, but could I really sit back if Wayne blackmailed him into doing something he’d regret forever? Maybe I could have Wayne picked up for a traffic violation. Had he renewed his licence? Maybe he liked to drink and drive. I scrambled for options, and knew I’d reached a new height of stupidity whenlure him into a bar fightcame to mind.
Shit. I wanted to protect Callum but I didn’t know how, and wasn’t sure I had the right anymore.
He told me to get out.That hurt, deep in my chest. Callum didn’t trust me to be on his side. I’d never met another man I even thought about sharing a life with, and now I’d screwed things up.
After scooping up the remains of the food and tossing it in the trash, I pulled out my phone. A glance toward the stairs sent me heading down to the basement, two levels of soundproofing between me and Jos. Then I called Olivia.
She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Zeke, what’s up?”
“Got a question for you. Hypothetical.”
“All right. Shoot.”
“Let’s say I had a cousin. And that cousin swore me to secrecy and then told me they were thinking about committing a crime. But only because they were being pressured into it. Then, when I said they should cooperate with the authorities and let us help, they snapped my head off and kicked me out. What should I do?”
“I need more info than that. This crime. Is anyone going to get hurt?”
“No. Or, not directly. It’s a money crime.”
“Just a summary offense, or something indictable?”
I wasn’t sure how bad gambling crimes were considered. Probably there was a range. “Grey zone. It would depend on the prosecutor.”
