“You wanna fuck later?”

“Jesus, Romeo. How can I resist when you put it like that?”

Austin Kent wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief before stuffing it back in his jeans pocket. The Las Vegas heat sucked ass in June. It had its moments the rest of the year too. Picking up his binoculars, he then peered through them at what, to anyone else, would appear to be an abandoned trailer. He ignored Pete’s offer. Austin was currently more interested in the police officer’s protection than his dick.

Don’t see why I can’t carry a piece on the job.

Apparently, investigative technicians weren’t considered to be the bad-asses of the justice system in Vegas.

Pete nudged him with his elbow. “Was that a yes?”

Austin decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to punch Ken, since it would give away their location. Other than that, it was an awesome idea.

“That was a vehement ‘no’. I never know what I’m getting into with you.”

“I thought you enjoyed last time.”

“I shot a load. That part I enjoyed. The rest I could’ve done without.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh, I was surprised all right.”

“You know, a lot of guys like it when—”

“Shh. Here comes Daniel now.”

Pete grabbed the binoculars. “Shit. In the nick of time too. Our boy’s on the move.”

“Hey. Do you mind?” Austin yanked the glasses back then peered through the lenses. “Dammit.”

It looked as if his witness was going to evade being served yet again. The scenario was ironic since Austin had originally thought it would be quick and simple. He’d met Vinnie at the First Annual Powwow on the Paiute Indian Reservation when they were both ten years old. Austin’s dad was almost full-blooded and had taken him so he could experience the culture. He’d explained that even though Austin wasn’t being raised on the Rez, he should still learn about that part of his heritage. Ever since then, he and Vinnie had been close friends—even if things had eroded somewhat in recent years. It sucked to be the one who had to serve him.

Austin missed his dad. The guy had treated him well. He’d always told Austin to live his life the way he wanted, that when he got older, people would try to change him—tell him how he should be. Austin had wondered if his dad had known all along that he was gay. Soon after that first Powwow, the Gulf War had begun, and his dad had been a part of Operation Desert Shield. He’d never come back.

“Hey, guys, we had a scuffle at the golf course. I got here as soon as I could.” Their backup, Daniel Ochoa—Pete’s fellow officer of Paiute law enforcement—kept his voice low as he approached.

Austin snorted. “I guess those old white guys can get vicious on the green.”

“You have no idea.”

Austin and Pete were hidden behind a large boulder. Daniel crouched next to them and Austin noted that the Paiute officer had parked his vehicle down the incline and out of sight. He’d driven in on the same back desert road that he and Pete had used to avoid detection. Pete elbowed him in the ribs again.

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Look, look, look. He wasn’t leaving. Vinnie’s just sitting out there smoking.” Pete held the binoculars pressed to his face. “This is better, man. We can see everything around him.”

“Except for who’s in the trailer, dickwad.”

Daniel nodded his head. “Austin’s right. There’s no telling who might be in there. We approach Vinnie now and we could get picked off in an instant. One of Marquez’s guys could be in there cooking. We should secure the residence before Austin tries to serve him.”

Pete frowned, seemingly butthurt over Daniel not taking his side. “There’s never been any intel to indicate Vinnie’s trailer was being used to manufacture meth.”

“Right.” Daniel swatted at a small bug flitting around his sweat-soaked face. “But there hasn’t been any indicator that he wasn’t cooking in his home either.”

Home was too kind a word. Vinnie’s abode wasn’t in any danger of being featured in Architectural Digest—or anywhere, ever. It was lucky to still be upright. The dented, rusted mess was a blight set at the rear of his mom’s property, a mockery to her beautiful, recently built house. He’d told Austin a few years back that as long as he didn’t have to see her face or hear her shit, he didn’t care what he lived in.

Austin sighed, too stressed out from the whole cockstorm that had been his day to dwell on all that had gone wrong with the life of one of his closest friends. There was a job to do and he was the fucker who got to serve a witness subpoena to someone who would view it as an act of betrayal.

“Okay then. What’s the plan?” Austin directed his question to Daniel.

Daniel regarded him as Pete continued to stare through the binoculars. “I’m gonna sneak around the back. I can make it without detection if I keep low behind the sage brush over there.” He gestured toward the area he meant. “When I radio that the trailer is clear, I want you both to advance on him.” Daniel turned to Pete who seemed to finally be paying attention. “Don’t draw on him but be ready. We don’t want to come at him aggressively, get him worked up. Hopefully, when he sees Austin, he’ll be cool.”

Austin prayed Daniel was right. Since Vinnie had been off his meds, no one knew what to expect from him anymore. Iraq hadn’t been kind to anyone close to Austin. Not only had he lost his dad in the Gulf War, he’d in essence lost his closest friend to the Iraq War. Whatever it was that had happened to Vinnie when he’d served had forever broken him.

“Be ready.” Daniel turned toward the trailer but whispered over his shoulder before taking off. “Pete, make sure your radio is on low and listen for my all clear.”

Pete grunted after Daniel was out of earshot. “Can you believe that shit? He always treats me like I’m an idiot.”

Even though Pete had walked right into that one, Austin was too cranky and heat exhausted to run with it. He bit at his lip and tried to get his bristly dark hair to stay off his face. He typically kept it short—it would get too frizzy otherwise. But he was a busy guy, and other than staying in somewhat good physical shape, he didn’t give too much thought to his appearance.

A small crackle sounded from Pete’s radio, then he whispered into it. He nodded at Austin to go ahead. Austin’s joints complained at being in the unforgiving position for so long as he rose to his feet. He was only thirty-five years old, but his body was constantly being abused on the job in one way or another. It didn’t help that he could be a bit klutzy at times either. A nice soak in the hot tub at his condo later would be a welcome treat.

The first rush of pebbles and dirt down the incline once they’d gotten close to their target caused Vinnie to twist around. His eyes widened in shock as he regarded them both then quickly narrowed in anger as he glared at Austin. He threw his cigarette to the ground.

Come on, guy. It’s me. Just doin’ my job.

“Hey, Vinster. How goes it?”

“Fuck you. Don’t even be acting like you’re my friend. Fucking traitors—both of you!”

“Look, Vinnie, this sucks for me too.”

He guffawed and waved his arms around. “Oh! Oh, really? Sucks for you? You?”

Vinnie lurched toward them and Pete pulled his weapon, pointing it at Vinnie, bracing the hand that held his Glock 17 with the other. “Stay right where you are!”

Austin held up both hands as if in surrender. “Hey, now. Everyone chill. All I wanna do is give you this piece of paper, then we’ll be on our way.”

“Then he might as well shoot me. ’Cause my life ain’t gonna be worth shit if I testify against the Marquez brothers. You know it, he knows it and they know it.”

Austin noted Daniel coming up from the rear on the other side of the trailer. He had his weapon drawn, but was approaching slowly, carefully. All of Vinnie’s attention was on Austin and Pete, his frantic gaze flitting back and forth between them. He was clearly unaware that Daniel was behind him.

“It’s gonna be okay, Vinnie.” Austin was desperate to get his friend to hear him, to believe him. “I’ll make sure you’re protected. Please, man. Let’s not do this.”

A drop of sweat left a long trail in its wake as it worked its way down from Austin’s hairline, into his brow then onto his eyelid. As soon as he blinked, the salty water momentarily blurred his vision, stinging his eyes. He squeezed them shut. The loud bang of two firearms going off almost simultaneously jolted him, his eyes flying open in time to see Vinnie hit the ground.

“No!”

He rushed to his friend who was lying face down in the dirt, his legs and arms splayed in crazy angles away from his torso. The gun he must’ve had hidden on him was a few feet from his right hand. Austin dropped to his knees then rolled Vinnie over, cradling him by his shoulders. His half-lidded stare confirmed what Austin had already guessed when he’d seen the copious amount of blood soaking his shirt.

“Fuck, Vinnie. How did it come to this?” He spoke softly, his words not meant for anyone else. It was all so senseless. They’d been so excited after their respective graduations, anxious to begin their lives. “Why can’t we go back, man? Why can’t it be like it was when the world was still new to us?”

Daniel’s agitated voice brought him back to the present. He turned his head toward the sound. The officer was in a similar position holding Pete, who had obviously been hit too. He was anxiously speaking into his shoulder radio mic. Austin’s gut clenched. Goofy Pete couldn’t also be gone. It would be the thing that pushed him closer than ever to becoming as broken as Vinnie had been. Austin never saw the glitter of Vegas. He only saw the ugliness.

Once Daniel had finished calling in, Austin gently laid Vinnie back down then rose. He tore his gaze away, unable to bear seeing him like that anymore and dreading the conversation he felt it was his duty to have with Vinnie’s mom. Austin hurried over to where Daniel was tending to Pete. He had a bandana pressed to his abdomen. Pete appeared unconscious—at least Austin prayed that’s what he was.

“Is he…?”

Daniel shook his head. “No. But I hope the ambulance doesn’t take too long.”

Austin nodded grimly. A woman’s shrill scream broke out and he whirled around.

Vinnie’s mom.

After taking a deep breath, he jogged toward her, anxious to stop her before she could see her son’s bloodied body lying in the dirt. When he finally reached her, his expression must have told her all she needed to know. She collapsed into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. He consoled her the only way he knew how, by holding her and letting her cry. There was nothing to say.

As she poured out her grief, he surveyed the surrounding desert of the reservation. The Spring Mountains were a peaceful backdrop on the east side of the Paiute land and Austin wondered why no one had ever been able to save Vinnie. Maybe there was something more Austin could’ve done when Vinnie had decided dealing drugs was a better way to go than getting his rightful salary as a member of the Paiute Tribe.

Maybe it’s because we all have to save ourselves.