...When the station door whispered shut behind him, he kept expecting Siler to stride forward and take the lead again, but he never showed, not even in the corner of Joel’s eye. He was there, though; his near-silent footsteps gave him away. The light spilling from the station faded the closer they got to Joel’s car, but the night only heightened his awareness of the man at his back.

“You look good on your knees.”

He almost stumbled. Siler’s casual tone was as deceptive as his smiling demeanor.

“Then it’s too bad you’ll never see it again.”

“Did I say anything about wanting it for myself?” Siler chuckled. “Though it’s interesting that’s where you went.”

It was supposed to sound belligerent, to show Siler wasn’t the boss even if he did have a badge. Hearing through Siler’s perspective terrified him. Because Siler had it right on the money.

He stopped in front of his car and whirled to face him. His ready retort died on his lips when he nearly bumped noses with the man, his senses short-circuiting from the intoxicating scent of sweat and an earthy cologne. He’d caught whiffs of it back in the interrogation room, and he shouldn’t have been able to smell it out here amongst all the exhaust and city odors, but it eclipsed everything else, just like Siler did.

“Why did you do it?” he blurted.

Siler didn’t back up. “Why do you have such crappy taste in fuck buddies?”

Roach might have had his issues, but… “That’s none of your business.”

“My point, exactly.”

Impulses raged beneath his skin, the urge to punch Siler as strong as the one to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. He balled his hands into fists at his sides. “Except I saw you.”

“Then you should’ve turned me in.”

“You want to get caught?”

Siler smiled. “Do I really look that stupid?”

“No.” The smile widened, and he retreated a step to try to clear his head. “I can’t figure you out.”

“What’s there to figure? You cover for me. I cover for you.”

The first had been clear. The second, not so much. “Why should you have to cover for me?”

“Because you’re not our star witness, you know.” Siler took back the space between them, forcing Joel to back up until his butt hit the cold metal of the car. “You’re our prime suspect. Your car was at the scene. We’re going to find your DNA on Roach’s dick, which puts a big hole in your official statement and makes it hard to believe anything you say, now or…” He braced a hand against the roof, blocking the way back to the station. “Well, if you decide later on to change your testimony, for any reason, it won’t look so good, will it?”

He couldn’t breathe. From the cops’ point of view, it would make perfect sense. They would have no reason to believe anything he might say if he recanted, and every reason to stand by one of their own. It was every fear he’d had when he’d first recognized Siler inside, brought to its sickening, inevitable conclusion. The one that had him fighting with everything he had to stay out of jail for a crime he didn’t commit.

Siler tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful. “Let’s take this someplace else and talk about it. You look like you could use a drink.”

His bark of laughter was drowned out by nearby traffic. “So you can finish what you didn’t do at the beach? No thanks.”

“I wasn’t going to kill you.”

“You chased me with a gun.”

“I didn’t shoot.”

“You shot Roach.”

“Because I was there for him. Not for you.”

“Pardon me if I don’t believe a crooked cop.”

Siler’s lips thinned, but rather than diminish how sexy his mouth was, it sent a jolt to Joel’s cock, images of what it would be like tight around his shaft beating down the memories of the beach. “You don’t know Jack.”

He shook his head. “If only that were true.” Ducking beneath Siler’s arm, he surprised the man by darting around him and tossing back his key ring. Siler caught it without flinching, his eyes narrowing with every yard Joel put between them. “Keep the car. And good luck with your investigation. I’m done.”

“This isn’t over, Joel.”