Page 81 of Hurricane Love

“Then hear me out. I want us to be together, just as I always have. But I don’t want you to feel pressured. And I don’t want you to have any regrets, so how about you take a little more time to think about it?”

Diego’s expression shuttered, his face reflecting the disappointment that Wylie felt too, but he tried not to let it sway him. “This isn’t me rejecting you,” Wylie said to reassure him. “This is me giving you more time. And, honestly, this is probably more about me,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?” Diego asked.

“In my past relationships, I moved way too fast, and I usually ended up resenting the men that I dated because they couldn’t give me what I wanted–wouldn’t commit or be faithful or allow me to express myself emotionally. I never want to feel that way toward you or have some knock-down, drag-out fight on the front lawn because I’ve let the bad feelings build.” He didn’t want to harbor any bitterness toward Diego or suffer another letdown because the man had simply changed his mind. “I want you more than anything, but I need you to be sure,” Wylie said.

Diego nodded solemnly, as though he understood exactly what Wylie was placing in his hands and how much they both stood to lose if he let it slip.

“I’ll call you,” Diego said, the simple promise carrying the weight of something far greater. Diego reached up, cupped the back of Wylie's neck, and gently drew him forward until their foreheads rested together. Diego’s fingers tightened ever so slightly, sealing the promise without another word.

“I’d like that,” Wylie whispered.

CHAPTER 18

DIEGO

Diego loved Wylie Fox Sommers,and for the first time in a long time, the answer was simpler than the questions. Yes, he was an ex-con. Yes, he still needed extensive therapy to work through his own bullshit. And, yes, he’d probably make a few more missteps before all was said and done, but he was done with getting in his own way.

Now, he just needed to convince the man that this wasn’t just some fleeting impulse, that there were actual actions behind his words. During his two-hour bus ride back to Largo, Diego resolved to demonstrate to Wylie, beyond any lingering doubts, that he was in this for the long haul, that he was willing to fight for their relationship. Because that was what the man deserved.

And while he was considering his next moves, he got a call from the reporting officer from the robbery at the pit, asking him to come down to the station and identify the suspect they believed to be Cody Wallace. Diego decided to go directly there from where the bus dropped him off, and he arrived at the police station an hour or so later slightly rumpled, extremely sweaty, and still thinking about Wylie.

To say he was uncomfortable inside the police station would be an understatement. He wished Wylie was there with him. He’dsay something clever to lighten the mood or make some sharp observation. As it was, Diego found himself falling back on his prison conditioning–only speaking when spoken to, avoiding eye contact, controlling his body movements so that he appeared compliant and non-threatening. At least he wasn’t having a full-on panic attack. Not yet.

Diego was escorted to a room that looked like it might also be used to question suspects, with a mirror that was undoubtedly two-way glass and a flat-screen television mounted to the wall. Diego had to remind himself that he wasn’t the one being interrogated this time, even as the back of his neck prickled with sweat and his heart pounded in his chest.

The officer, Sergeant Collier, introduced himself, then booted up the television. Did the officer know he was a convicted felon? Would that make his testimony less credible? Diego searched the man’s face, trying to determine what he might already know about him, but the officer maintained a professional, if somewhat bored, demeanor as he clicked through the prompts to reach the screen he desired.

“Take a look at these,” the officer said and directed Diego’s attention to where there was an array of pictures displayed on the screen. “Get a good luck. Don’t rush it.”

The headshots were arranged in two neat rows. The six suspects all resembled each other, if not in looks than in general bearing. Diego spotted Cody immediately, and the man looked even worse for wear with a bloody scratch over one eye and a few bruises on his cheek as if he’d been in a fight. Had Cody resisted arrest? Diego hoped not—that would only add to the charges against him.

“That’s him,” Diego said, pointing to the screen. “Row one, middle.”

“You’re sure?” the officer asked.

Diego had a flashback then to when they were in middle school, Cody’s high-pitched giggle that always cracked him up. The first time they got high together off some dirt weed they gotfrom Cody’s older brother and Cody couldn’t stop laughing. They ate through all the snacks in his mom’s cupboard, and his mother bitched to Diego about it for years afterward, saying Cody had crocodiles in his stomach due to his insatiable appetite. Diego later learned Cody was always hungry because his family didn’t feed him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Diego said, and even knowing it was the right thing to do, didn’t make it any easier. “What are his charges?”

“Armed robbery, resisting arrest, drug possession, and theft. Apparently he stole the gun he used in the robbery from someone he’d been working for.”

The hairs on the back of Diego’s neck stood up on end. Déjà-fucking-vu. “Who was that?” Diego asked.

The officer shuffled the paperwork and said, “I can’t give you their name.”

“Was it Todd Mevis?” Diego asked.

The officer neither confirmed nor denied it, but the look on his face told Diego everything he needed to know. “I’d like to make an additional statement,” he said.

Diego then spent the next hour listing out all the rackets Todd Mevis had been running during the time that Diego had known him, including the incident where he pinned the theft on one of his workers who’d then been deported.

“Will I get in trouble for telling you this?” Diego asked. “I’m on probation.”

“Have you had any involvement in criminal activity since your probation began?”

“No, sir,” Diego said with absolute confidence.