Read Online Cross & Crown by Abigail Roux - Free Book Online Page A

to his desk like he was grasping for a cup. He looked confused for a moment before seeming to realize he’d tossed his own coffee in the trash as well. He and Nick both leaned over the edge of the desk to eye their trash can.
    “I won’t tell if you don’t,” Nick offered.
    Hagan gave a single nod, then stood up and coughed, making a show of fixing his tie and smiling around the squad room as Nick fished the cups out of the trash.

    Kelly had to get directions to Nick’s desk, and it was like trying to find his way through a rabbit warren as he navigated the department. When he finally saw someone he recognized, Nick’s partner Hagan, Kelly could have hugged the man.
    “Hey, Doc, how they hanging?” Hagan asked as soon as he saw Kelly.
    “Um… they can’t complain with the current situation.”
    Hagan laughed. “Sorry, O always calls you Doc. I don’t remember your real name,” he admitted. He gestured toward the desk opposite him. “Have a seat. Want some coffee?”
    “No, I’m good, thanks.” Kelly eased into the chair, Nick’s chair, watching Hagan suspiciously. He actually reminded Kelly a little of Nick; he was so deadpan you could never tell when he was joking.
    Hagan was alternately tapping at his computer and reading a notepad on his desk, probably filling out a report or transferring notes. Kelly glanced around the room. There were more pods of desks like this one, in various degrees of organization. Nick’s desk, in comparison to the others, was very clean. It was almost empty, in fact. There was a large doodling pad in the center with notes and rough sketches all over it. There was the regular desktop fare, such as a stapler and a cup of pens and a computer. Nick had been back at work for several months, but most of that time had been spent doing desk work. Kelly could imagine him sitting here, bored to tears, organizing everything again and again.
    A single photograph adorned the desk, in a simple black frame. Kelly reached for it, letting a finger run across the faces of his brothers-in-arms. It was a photo of the six men of Sidewinder, all of them ten years younger, all of them grinning at the camera, dressed in their combat gear. They’d taken a picture before every mission, just in case noone came back. This had been their last mission before being decommissioned.
    Nick stood in the middle of the back row, a smile on his grease-painted face. Ty had his arm around Nick’s neck, and Nick was resting his elbow on Kelly’s shoulder. The other three members of the team, Owen Johns, Elias Sanchez, and the Cajun they’d called Digger, were kneeling in front of them.
    Kelly glanced at the desktop again. No pictures of family. None of Nick’s sisters, whom Kelly knew he loved dearly. None of any of his coworkers here in Boston, past or present. Just Sidewinder.
    Kelly’s chest twisted and tightened, and he rubbed at the scar near his heart as it throbbed. He replaced the frame carefully.
    When he looked up, Hagan was watching him. “You boys must have been some kind of special.”
    “We were.”
    A hand clapped his shoulder, and he jerked in the seat. It was difficult sometimes for Kelly to resist the urge to defend himself when something surprised him, even a decade after seeing his last combat. Of course, almost being killed on vacation in New Orleans a year or so ago, and then again on vacation in Scotland several months back, had reinforced the instinct a little.
    Nick leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Kelly turned his head and caught a real kiss from him before he straightened. He was shocked by the public display, but then, he kept having to remind himself that Nick had been out for a few years now.
    “You got here okay?” Nick asked him. He sat on the edge of the desk, grinning down at Kelly.
    “Yeah, no problem. Why do you look like you just ate a canary?”
    Nick reached across his desk and opened a manila file folder. He tapped the paper and handed Kelly a pen.