tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33938350454444658832024-03-13T09:21:31.933-07:00Excerpts, Excerpts, and More ExcerptsTemporary site for excerpts of L.A. Witt and Lauren Gallagher's work, linked from http://www.loriawitt.comLori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-34562802195482566712014-04-04T08:26:00.001-07:002014-04-04T08:26:33.477-07:00EXCERPT: WirelessTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/sff.html#wireless">Wireless</a></i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Loose Id, LLC<br />
Format: ebook<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="TimeStampFirstLine">
Several
decades f<span lang="X-NONE">rom now…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="TimeStampFirstLine">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ground was always moving in San Angeles. If it wasn’t
one of the massive machines lumbering from one monolithic construction project
to the next, it was another day, another earthquake. Yesterday, there was a
quake strong enough to spill my coffee on the sleek stainless console in Sim
Room 12, and just this morning, a smoke-belching earthmover—one of the small
ones, the kind with tire treads that can only fit two full grown adults—went by
and made the lights flicker. After thirty-two years in this place, I was used
to all of that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But every other Thursday at exactly fourteen thirty, my
balance went straight to hell. Whatever I was holding had about a fifty percent
chance of tumbling to the floor, so I always made sure my hands were empty and,
if I could swing it, I was sitting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because every other Thursday at exactly fourteen thirty,
Aiden Maxwell strolled in through the simhouse’s front door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he <i>always</i>
asked for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was Thursday again, and it was fourteen twenty-nine when
Lacey leaned into my office.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Keith, you’ve got a patient.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Already?” I didn’t know why I bothered to act surprised, or
look at the clock on the wall like I’d actually lost track of time. “Well.
Where’s the day going?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She laughed but said nothing. As I followed her down the
hall to the waiting area, I wondered if she knew. But then, who cared? I’d
never touched the man except as my job required it, and that meant gloves on.
Just because he screwed up my breathing and blood pressure the moment he walked
into the simhouse didn’t mean a thing. That much, at least, wasn’t illegal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>It’s the first step
down a dangerous road,</i> I reminded myself as Lacey opened the door leading
out to the waiting area.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The door slid open, and I was surprised every ECG in the
building didn’t go haywire from the spike in my pulse. Of course that was
completely irrational. No such thing had happened on any previous Thursday
afternoon when the same spike happened upon the arrival of this same patient.
Shouldn’t have surprised me it didn’t this time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Across the room, Aiden Maxwell smiled and pushed himself to
his feet, his skintight black-and-silver suit creaking softly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Get your head
together, Borden</i>. He was wearing the same suit every goddamned person in
San Angeles—myself included—wore. I saw dozens of people every day, and they
all wore the same thing. Neck down, covering every inch of flesh right down to
wrists and ankles, leaving our hands and feet to be covered by formfitting
gloves and laced-up boots. The suits were insulated to keep us cool in the
summer, warm in the winter. Thin enough to move and breathe, thick enough to
serve their primary purpose: prevent skin-to-skin contact.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were thirty million people in San Angeles, fully half
of them in the quadrant where I lived. I’d seen so many of these suits on so
many bodies, they were as novel as pollution and pavement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the way Aiden’s suit fit him did things to me I couldn’t
explain. It was like the damn thing was made to accentuate his narrow hips or
the fact that he had shoulders that wouldn’t quit. Walking down the hall from
the waiting area to Sim Room 8, it was all I could do not to sneak a few
glances. It should have been a crime for a man to look this good. Especially
since it practically <i>was</i> a crime for
me to have the fantasies I’d had about him in and out of that suit. Living out
those fantasies? A felony. Not worth entertaining even within the confines of
my mind, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The skintight suit wasn’t the worst part. He was here for a
sim session, which meant—just as it did for the hundreds of people who came through
this simhouse without making me bat an eye—the suit was coming off. So were the
boots, the gloves—<i>everything</i>. Every
layer peeled away, revealing the exquisitely defined arms and shoulders that a
decade of heavy construction work had chiseled to perfection.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was all coming off, and since he always asked for me, I
was the one who got to put the electrodes on him. On his neck. The insides of
his elbows. His flat, flawless abs. Not to mention the equipment that went over
his penis and testicles to provide the stimulation that would ultimately bring
him to orgasm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good thing no one on staff had ever noticed—or
questioned—that I always booked my own sim sessions for immediately after
Aiden’s.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We stepped into the small utilitarian sim room. There wasn’t
much in here. A couple of chairs, a horizontal sim chamber with its lid open
and ready, and the control console.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as the sim room door shut behind us, my pulse was
all over the place just like it always was with him around, but as always, I
didn’t let it show. I went through the usual motions: pulling up his program,
scanning the chip behind his ear to make sure he was free of diseases, and
signing off on his records to state he’d been here for his prescribed session. A
lot of patients avoided small talk at all costs, but not Aiden, and when he was
around, I was never sure how articulate I would be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I entered his information into the system, he said,
“You’re doing well, I presume?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I… Yes. Doing fine.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. God,
one look at him, and goose bumps prickled the length of my spine. “And you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He smiled warmly, though there was always something devilish
in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled like that. “Quite well, thank you.”
He glanced at my hands on the keyboard. “You know, I have to say, I’m quite
surprised every time I come in here and don’t see a ring on your hand.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fingers froze a split second before I could tell myself
not to react. I never realized how conspicuous that lack of a gold band around
my gloved finger was until someone pointed it out. A lot of people did these
days—I was thirty-two, after all—but when Aiden mentioned it, my heart pounded.
I swallowed. “Oh. Um. You know how it is. Takes time for the Department to,
um…” Our eyes locked again, and speech eluded me. “Eventually. I’ll…” <i>What were we talking about?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aiden chuckled, that quiet, knowing sound that made me wonder
if he could read my mind. If he knew how much just looking at him made my knees
shake, or if he knew that the reason I was still unmarried was because I kept
dragging my feet when the Department matched me to a woman. Or if he’d read
between the lines of my glances and my habitual speechlessness and knew damn
well <i>why</i> I kept dragging my feet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cleared my throat and nodded toward his hands. “You’re not
wearing a ring either.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No.” He looked down at his left hand, turning it over as if
inspecting it. “I can’t say the Department has been very successful in finding
me”—his gaze flicked up and met mine again, and the corner of his mouth rose
slightly—“a good match.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I gulped. Aiden grinned.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Damn him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cleared my throat again, just to get some air moving. “All
right, that’s enough formalities. Your records are updated, so…” Without
looking at him or waiting for a response, I moved to the control console to
start setting up his sim program, but even with my attention focused on the
monitor between us, my mind’s eye filled in the rest. Such was the problem when
I’d seen him do this so many times; all it took was the sound of the separating
zipper and the faint squeak of his suit and the rustle of the under layer
across his flesh to fill in everything I couldn’t see.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once he was completely naked, Aiden lay back in the open
machine. He pulled on the virtual reality goggles. I attached electrodes, one
by one, to various erogenous areas, plus the extras he always requested: two
instead of one on each side of his neck and an additional one on either side
just beneath his jaw.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I attached one to the inside of his wrist, my glove
grazed his skin. Aiden sucked in a breath. Gooseflesh sprang to life around the
electrode and the place my glove touched him, continuing all the way up his
dark-haired forearm. I suppressed a shiver; it would have been a hell of a lot
easier to ignore—<i>try</i> to ignore—my
reactions to him if he didn’t also react to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With all the electrodes in place, I put on the larger
device. I did this every hour of every day, and had for over a decade, and I’d
long ago stopped noticing cocks, but Aiden’s—well, I supposed it was no
surprise anymore. Other patients didn’t get any kind of reaction out of me, but
with him, I’d never been able to put the equipment in place without feeling
that familiar dull heaviness below my belt. By the time the machinery was
fitted over his erection, I always had one of my own.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What was <i>wrong</i>
with me?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, I had everything ready to go, and moved to the
computer to set up his simulation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The screen changed to the partner selection program.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Which partner do you want this time?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Actually,” he said, “I think I want to try a new one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I glanced at him. “You’ve got four saved already. If you
save a new one, you’ll have to delete one of the others.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Delete all four of them.” He waved a hand, and the leads
coming off the attachments clipped to his fingers rattled against the table.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You sure?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Mm-hmm.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“All right.” I deleted the four partners and started on a
new one. “Specs?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Male, of course,” he said, and I made adjustments as he
instructed me. “Light skin. Not so tanned. Oh yes, that’s better. Hmm, not
quite so tall. About—” He paused. “How tall are you, Keith?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fingers froze above the controls. “I beg your pardon?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m not very good with heights,” he said with a grin I
didn’t quite understand. “Give me a frame of reference.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cleared my throat, still eyeing him over the monitor.
“About a hundred and seventy-eight centimeters.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perfect. Go with that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I threw him another look, even though he couldn’t see me,
but then entered the dimensions into the system. “Hair color?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Brown. Dark brown. And short. Not quite military, but close
to it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I entered the specification. “How about this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That looks—” He lifted the goggles and looked at me. After
a second, he replaced the goggles. “Oh yes, that’s perfect.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Is it, now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we continued adjusting the sim partner’s appearance—blue
eyes, no, <i>bluer</i>—something twisted
deep in the pit of my stomach. Thanks to the bright overhead lights and the
screen’s slick surface, my mostly transparent reflection was visible. As if I
needed something to remind me that his newly created sim partner bore an
uncanny resemblance to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What in the world was he doing?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perfect,” he said at last.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Very well, then.” I came around the console and reached for
the machine’s lid. “Enjoy the ride.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh,” he said with a grin, “I will.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lowered the lid over him, switched on the program, and
then dropped into my chair so I could monitor him. And catch my breath. And
regain my balance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I couldn’t see him, and I couldn’t see the simulation that
he was seeing. The monitor where I adjusted his sim partner’s appearance—I was
imagining the resemblance to myself, wasn’t I?—now showed the readouts of Aiden’s
vital signs. His quickening pulse. The brainwaves reflecting the increasing
levels of dopamine. His rapid, shallow breathing. He always liked his sessions
to run long, enjoying every second like he was drinking a rare bottle of wine
instead of dutifully taking the fastest route to his prescribed, rationed
orgasm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me while he took
his sweet time with the sim. Watching his vitals, I shifted in my seat. There
was a suppressor in the pocket of my suit, and a single inhalation would ease
this edginess and soften the erection that was making my suit progressively
more uncomfortable. If I didn’t have my own sim session coming up shortly, I’d
have taken a double dose of the suppressor, because holy fuck, I needed it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked past the monitor at the chamber in which Aiden was
currently lost in his fantasy, and that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened
a little more. They said every simtech was eventually tempted. Someone came
along, some highly attractive patient, who tempted the tech into taking off a
glove and indulging in a fleeting moment of skin-to-skin contact. It was a
dangerous road, though. That kind of contact was a misdemeanor, which was more
than enough for a simtech to lose his credentials. Worse, I’d heard a brush of
skin on skin was enough to tempt some people into wanting more, and that led
them to the highly illegal underground and its wireless lounges where people
went far, far beyond a simple touch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d been a simtech for fourteen years. I’d hooked up plenty
of patients who stuck around in my fantasies for a little while. But I had
never—<i>never</i>—considered crossing that
line.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not until recently, anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shifted my gaze back to the monitor. He was coming down
from his climax now, his heart and respiration steadily slowing, and I was the
one with sweat on the back of my neck. I grabbed a clean towel off the rack
where we kept them for patients, and dabbed away the moisture on my forehead
and above my collar. With any other patient, I’d have been hurrying to get the
chamber open and machinery removed, since most people liked to get out of the
machine and back into their suits as quickly as possible, but Aiden liked to
savor the aftermath as much as he did the buildup.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I was in no rush. The longer he took, the less likely
he’d notice the dampness that was curling the ends of my hair, or the extra
color that had no doubt appeared in my cheeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, though, I raised the lid. I disconnected the
machinery and electrodes, and the whole time, Aiden didn’t move. His eyes were
closed, his chest rising and falling, but aside from that, he was still.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You all right?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aiden opened his eyes. His pupils were still blown, but the
flush of pink was fading from his face and neck. Slowly, he sat up. He was
always the very picture of blissful satisfaction when he left the simhouse,
more than most people, but even more so today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ahh.” He smiled. “I needed that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I handed him his suit. “See you in two weeks?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Absolutely.” His gaze slid toward me, and the corner of his
mouth lifted. “You know, after a session like that, it’s hard not to wonder
what the real thing would be like.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I responded with a watery smile. “We can wonder all we want,
but there’s a reason it’s illegal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Indeed there is.” There was also a note of something in his
voice that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Not sarcasm, but close. He pulled
on his gloves and tilted his head to one side, then the other. “Well. Thank you
for another…<i>lovely</i> experience, Mr.
Borden.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t mention it,” I replied a split second before I
remembered what his sim partner looked like. I gulped, and Aiden gave a quiet,
knowing chuckle before he left. He’d been here enough times, he knew the place
as well as I did, so he showed himself out, while I retreated on unsteady legs
to Sim Room 9. As it always was, my own session was scheduled for the moment
Aiden walked out of the simhouse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Setting up my own program was one of the perks of being a simtech.
I pulled up my bank of sim partners, and chose the one I’d used every time for
months, and tweaked him a little to sharpen his resemblance to Aiden. As the
changes rendered, I glanced over my shoulder. None of the other techs would
come barging in—I knew that—but I was paranoid nonetheless. The closer my sim
partner came to resembling someone my colleagues might also recognize, the more
dangerous this little game was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I adjusted the sim partner’s hair color until it was as
close to the dark blond tint as I could get it, and modified the green of his
eyes just a little. They were still too vivid, too <i>green</i>, but after weeks of tinkering, I was pretty sure I’d nearly
gotten it to that perfect shade that <i>just</i>
bordered on pale blue.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sim partner’s smile didn’t quite match Aiden’s, and the
corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle the same way, but he was close enough. I
never had learned to like sim partners’ facial expressions; they were little
more than muscle movements, not the manifestation of a devilish thought or
quiet amusement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I glanced around, letting my gaze dart toward the door and
then up to the camera bubble on the ceiling. Why I was so worried, I didn’t
know. No one could possibly have known what was going on in my mind, or
understood anything I was doing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paranoia is the hallmark of a guilty conscience, I’d heard
time and time again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t doing anything wrong, damn it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got into the machine and hooked up all the electrodes.
That was always a little clumsy and awkward, but after years of practice, I
could do it without much work. I glanced up at the security camera, then
pressed an extra electrode onto either side of my neck and another pair on the
underside of my jaw. I had no idea if it would do anything, but Aiden liked it,
so it was worth a try.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once the rest of the equipment was in place, I pulled the
lid down on the sim chamber and started the program. An image of Aiden appeared
in front of me. The setting was a sparsely furnished, unembellished bedroom not
unlike my own and with about as much personality as the sim partner, the
computer rendering of Aiden who lay across my bed. His suit was already off. I
never could convince this version of him to look at me quite the same way, and
though his eyes were beautiful, they weren’t quite so magnetic. Not quite so
devilish and hungry.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I went to him anyway, and as he put his arms around me,
the faintly chemical scent of pheromones tickled my nose. My eyes rolled back
as the electrodes tingled against my nerve endings. The simulated version of
Aiden ran his fingertips along my neck, and the electrodes there responded with
featherlight sensations.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The virtual Aiden turned around and let me take him, and the
machinery around my cock created just enough friction and pressure to convince
my body I was really inside him. My hands slid over his hips, my fingers and
palms tingling with the gentle brush of skin across skin. It wasn’t an exact
match—I’d run my hands over my own flesh enough to know it wasn’t perfect—but
it was damn close. Close enough it didn’t take long, especially after being in
the presence of the real thing, for me to get off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lifted the lid, and then carefully removed the equipment from
my now very sensitive cock and then unceremoniously shoved it away. The
self-cleaning mechanism kicked on, and as I peeled electrodes off my skin, I
was thankful for the millionth time that we were long past the days when the
machinery had to be cleaned by hand. The interns we had right then had <i>no idea</i> how lucky they were.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat up and rubbed my temples. My sim partner was still
front and center in my mind, and he was quickly turning into a long-memorized
image of the man he was based on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why did I keep tempting myself like this? This was
dangerous. I needed to use a different sim partner from here on out. Maybe take
a suppressor for a while instead of going through a sim session at all. Maybe
it would even be a good idea to request a transfer to a simhouse where the
world didn’t lurch out from under me every other Thursday at fourteen thirty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because the more I looked, the more I wanted to touch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And if I touched, I lost everything.</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-27765839804222696462014-04-04T08:23:00.003-07:002014-04-04T08:23:43.831-07:00EXCERPT: The United and The DividedTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/sff.html#united">The United & The Divided</a></i> (Tooth & Claw #3)<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Samhain Publishing<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ian.” Someone nudged my shoulder. Darius, my brain figured
out after a moment. “Hey, you awake?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I burrowed my face into the pillow. “Do I have to be?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’re here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And with that, I was awake. Apprehension burrowed under my
skin and dug itself in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sitting up slowly, I rubbed my stiff neck. The muscle would
loosen itself soon enough, and if I’d actually slept on it badly enough to do
some damage, it would be healed within the hour. This vampire deal wasn’t all
that bad sometimes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Darius’s dark hair was disheveled, so he must not have been
awake long himself. He rested a hand above the bunk and swayed a little,
adapting to the slow rocking of the boat. That constant motion had alternately
nauseated me and put me to sleep since we’d left Levi’s grandmother’s house in
Sitka. Now that we’d arrived at our destination, a tiny island off the coast of
Alaska near Kodiak Island, it wasn’t the rocking that made me queasy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took a deep breath. I was so not ready for this. An island
full of wolves belonging to the same clan that had been trying to kill us did
not feel like safe harbor to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This still seems like a really bad idea.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Relax.” Darius touched my shoulder. “We’ll be all right.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” I muttered, running a
hand through my hair in a half-assed attempt to straighten it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He scowled but didn’t say anything. As much as he tried to
reassure me, I was pretty certain he wasn’t any more thrilled about this
arrangement than I was. He kept a calm demeanor and a relaxed front, but his
slightly elevated heart rate gave him away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A pair of booted feet came down the ladder behind him.
Darius turned around and, a second later, Levi dropped into full view. He
looked better than he had recently. He was more put together than Darius, his
near-black hair perfectly arranged except for a few strands the wind had blown
into his face. Still, he was obviously exhausted. He hadn’t been a vampire long
enough to be quite as pale as Darius or myself, but what lack of sunlight
hadn’t yet done, pure exhaustion certainly had. The life of a fugitive wasn’t
an easy one, as we’d learned all too well recently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi sank onto the bunk beside me. “Grandma’s going ashore
to talk to the Elders. They already know we’re coming, but she wants to make
sure everything is clear with this arrangement.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And if it is?” Darius asked. “I mean, what happens now?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi shook his head. “No idea. I know this isn’t going over
well with the pack, though. And even if the pack on the island is okay with it,
the clan is going to be pissed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are we sure there’s nowhere else to go?” I asked. “This
just doesn’t seem safe.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Darius shook his head, sighing heavily. “Remember? Levi and
I can’t feed off humans. Only wolves.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I groaned. That issue was going to be the death of all three
of us. Levi and Darius were both wolves now, and both vampires; a bite to feed
the vampire would convert a human into a wolf. Without willing wolves, we were
fucked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So what happens if the shit hits the fan?” I asked. “Or if
no one allows us to feed? This is an <i>island</i>.
And there’s only a few hours of daylight at a time right now, but it doesn’t
take much, you know?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi sighed, shaking his head again. “I don’t know. I really
don’t.” His shoulders sagged, and when he reached up to brush a few strands of
dark hair out of his face, that simple movement seemed to take all the energy
he had.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrapped my arms around him and let him lean against me.
Watching Levi like this was hell. He’d always been the stronger of the two of
us, but now he was so beaten down, demoralized, on the verge of total defeat.
As much as he’d tried to stay strong, he was cracking under the weight of
everything that had happened recently. His entire world had crumbled beneath
him in a matter of weeks, and he was starting to crumble right along with it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’ll be okay,” I whispered and kissed his cheek, wondering
if he believed me any more than I’d believed Darius.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boat listed a little to the left, and then heavy
footsteps thunked on the deck above us. All three of us looked up, silently
tracking the steps as they approached the ladder. Then a pair of faded baby-blue
arctic boots appeared, and I released my breath.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How did it go?” Levi asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well,” Grandma said as she came fully into view. “They’re
not happy, but the Elders are explaining the situation to the rest of the pack
in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What do we do until then?” Levi asked. “Just…stay here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She nodded and stepped off the ladder. “I’m not taking you
into that village until every wolf in the pack knows they’re not to lay a hand
on any of you.” Her expression hardened. “There’s plenty left in that shotgun
for anyone who objects.” For a woman who’d originally turned us over to the
wolves before deciding at the last second to save our asses, she was certainly
protective of us now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The three of us exchanged uncertain glances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Relax, boys.” Grandma patted the air with both hands. “The
Elders and I will keep the pack in line. You three keep your heads low and
don’t make any waves.” Her gaze landed on Levi, and she arched an eyebrow. “Am
I clear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All three of us nodded. Even Levi.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“All right.” She patted Levi’s shoulder before heading back
toward the ladder. “It’s just about dawn right now, so you boys hang tight for
a little while. I’ll be back when the sun’s down.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We all nodded. She disappeared onto the upper deck, and the
three of us sat in apprehensive silence for a moment. I wasn’t sure which was
worse: the constant running for our lives, or <i>waiting</i> to be running for our lives, especially since I wasn’t yet
convinced that the whole running-like-hell part was over yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well.” Darius exhaled hard and ran a hand through his hair.
“I guess now we wait.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yep,” Levi said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I chewed my lip, then looked at Levi. “As long as we’re just
sitting here, there’s something that’s been bugging me the last few days.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Only one thing?” Levi smirked. “Lucky you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Very funny.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He squeezed my leg. “Sorry. What’s on your mind?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“When we got cornered up at your grandmother’s house, and
one of the wolves had me pinned down, why did you and Darius surrender? Why
didn’t you just tell him that biting me would kill him too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The brief flicker of humor in Levi’s expression was long
gone, and he slid his hand over my leg, a gesture that was as affectionate as
it was protective. “Because the wolves had the upper hand, and reminding them
that vampirism is contagious would have just gotten us all killed. Starting
with you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not that biting me would have done him any good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Shooting you—or me or Darius—through the heart would have.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shuddered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He slid his hand up and down my leg. “I thought about it.
Believe me, I did. Whatever I had to do to save you, I was willing, but that?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t take the risk.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We got out,” Darius said. “All three of us. That’s all that
matters.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Agreed.” I put my hand on top of Levi’s. “I was just
curious. Not making any accusations.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I know.” He kissed me gently. “I’m just glad we all made it
out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Me too,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Definitely,” Darius said quietly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And though no one said it, I had no doubt we were all
thinking it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’d made it out alive, but how long would <i>that</i> last?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since winter days in Alaska were incredibly short, sundown
was only a few hours away. Shortly after, as Levi and I were sitting at the
small table belowdecks and Darius was restlessly pacing back and forth, Grandma
returned.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Coats and boots, boys,” she said as she stepped off the
ladder and into the cramped quarters. “We’re going ashore.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi’s heart sped up. “And everyone knows? They’re…okay with
this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They will be,” Grandma declared. “There’s going to be what
amounts to a town meeting tomorrow, with all of us and everyone in the
village.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaning against the bulkhead near the ladder, Darius shifted
his weight. “No one’s bringing stakes, are they?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I dare them,” Grandma said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi laughed. “I’ll take that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Good.” Grandma squared her shoulders. “Now let’s get you on
land so we can all sleep in real beds tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pushed myself up out of my chair and reached for my
sweatshirt. As I put it on, I gave myself a moment just to savor the soft
warmth against my skin. It seemed like a silly thing, enjoying the feel of a
sweatshirt, but then again, it was amazing how quickly things like this could
become priceless luxuries. Tyler and Levi’s grandmother had gone ashore in one
of the small towns between Sitka and here, and they’d brought back an armload
of parkas and some clothes that weren’t saturated with half-frozen blood. I’d
never take a clean, warm shirt for granted again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Especially since even after the last few weeks—had it been <i>that</i> long?—of running around in Canada
and Alaska in the dead of winter, I hadn’t begun to get used to being cold. If
we were going to be here for a while, I supposed I’d better adapt. And I would.
Tomorrow. Maybe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But for now? Sweatshirt. Heaven. I’d take any little
creature comfort I could get.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I was dressed—ahh, I’d have to thank Tyler again for
these arctic-grade boots—I headed abovedeck to join everyone else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boat was moored at the far end of an old pier. One by
one, we stepped onto the graying wood, and once everyone was off the boat, we
started toward the shore. Tyler and Grandma walked ahead, and Levi stayed
between Darius and me. All the way down the long dock, the pointed bows bobbed
and rocked on either side of us like a fiberglass gauntlet, each hull eerily
bright against the darkness, thanks to this vampire night vision. Everything
was clear, like in daylight, but against a dark sky and deep shadows.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And thanks also to that sharp vision, I had a completely
clear view of what waited for us at the other end of the pier: a large group of
people standing on a patch of ground that was only partially snow covered, like
it had been trampled numerous times since the last snowfall. The northern
lights cast an eerie green glow over all of them, the light rippling across
faces and glinting off narrowed eyes. Most of them were in human form, watching
with everything from curiosity to outright contempt. The few who were in wolf
form growled quietly. Their lips curled up over their impressive teeth, and the
hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I remembered a few too many
instances of being on the wrong end of a wolf’s fury.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we stepped off the dock, our boots crunched on the
semifrozen ground. We halted in front of the gathered crowd. I tried not to
think of them as a mob. Least of all an angry mob. The glares, though, and the
vaguely threatening semicircle they formed around us didn’t help me get that
thought out of my head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the wolves in human form stepped forward, hands
tucked into a zipped-up parka. “I’m Martin, one of the Elders of this pack.”
His voice was as taut as his expression, and he didn’t offer a handshake. I
told myself it was because of the biting cold. “We’ve heard about
your…situation.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi cleared his throat. “And we appreciate you allowing us
to stay here for the time being.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well.” Martin glanced at another man beside him, who
offered a subtle nod. Martin shifted his attention back to Levi. “Before we
guarantee that the three of you will be allowed to stay—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hold on just a minute,” Grandma broke in. “This can be
discussed tomorrow, but they need to rest. Tyler and I need to rest. The world
won’t end if we let everyone catch their breath and get some sleep before we
hash this out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sleep?” Someone scoffed. “With <i>them</i> in our community?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A low growl rose in Levi’s throat. I touched his arm, glove
to sleeve, and he quieted. He rested his hand over the top of mine, which drew
some contemptuous looks from the crowd in front of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She’s right,” Martin said. “This will be better handled
when everyone has had a chance to rest and settle in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A wolf in canine form beside Martin snarled and gnashed his
teeth. A wave of Martin’s hand silenced him, though, and the dog lay down on
the frozen ground with a soft whine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Martin turned back to us. “We’ll discuss this after everyone
has rested. Julie will show you to the cabin that will be yours for your
visit.” He emphasized the word <i>visit</i>
in an odd way, as if to make sure we all knew damn well we wouldn’t be staying
here long.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A woman stepped forward, brown hair tied up in a loose
ponytail and her expression as taut as the Elder’s had been. She gestured
sharply for us to follow her. She must have been the one named Julie.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This way,” she said tersely.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, I don’t think so.” A broad-shouldered guy, hair and
eyes dark like Levi’s, elbowed his way through the crowd. “She’s not going off
alone with <i>them</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Julie glanced at him, her expression a mixture of annoyance
and relief, like she was thankful not to be stuck alone with us, but also
irritated at the intrusion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Fine.” Martin gestured dismissively. “Just go. Show them to
their cabin, where they will be left alone. Is that clear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few people nodded; others murmured affirmatives. Levi,
Darius and I exchanged uncertain looks, but it wasn’t like we had a lot of
choice, so we followed Julie and the other guy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The night was deathly silent except for our boots crunching
on the snow and the subtle chorus of heartbeats that only the three of us could
hear. Darius’s and Levi’s would always be more pronounced to me since Darius
had converted me and I had converted Levi, so I felt every bit of their
apprehension, underscored by the varying degrees of nervousness coming from
those who quietly watched us walk into their settlement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we crested a small hill and entered the village itself,
my skin prickled. Whoever hadn’t come out to see us in from the boat was
watching us now. I could feel their stares. It was a creepy feeling that
reminded me of the day Levi and I had gone to the temple for that ill-fated bonding
ceremony. People had watched me so intently I swore they were burning holes in
my skin. I knew damn well they didn’t want me there, in their community or in
their temple, and the whole place had vibrated with quiet contempt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We followed Julie into the village, and I hoped against hope
that wherever they put us would be at the very edge of the small settlement.
Maybe near the forest or something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But no, we got a cabin right smack in the fucking middle,
just a few doors down from the island’s temple, the huge structure that loomed
over everything from the center of several rings of houses and buildings. Far
too close to everyone else. Maybe that was the only empty place. Or maybe it
was conveniently located so the pack could keep tabs on us. Either way, I
wasn’t at all comfortable with the arrangement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cabin was a lot like the ones at the farm where Levi’s
pack lived back in Washington. Though the blackout curtains over the windows
relaxed me about the impending sunrise, they also made me wonder who had known we
were coming. If this pack was anything like Levi’s—which they probably were,
since they were all part of the same clan—they wouldn’t be happy about vampires
in their midst.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Especially not the three of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Levi, who’d insisted on bonding to a human male instead of
his predestined female mate, which had been the catalyst for this endless
disaster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Darius, who’d converted Levi’s bonded human mate into a
vampire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And me, the mate who hadn’t been able to withstand the year
apart from Levi after that hellish bonding, and had ultimately gotten Darius
entangled in all this and had pretty much secured my spot as the wolf clan’s
public enemy number one for the foreseeable future. The fact that I’d shot a
wolf in Oregon hadn’t helped matters, even if it had been in self-defense. And
not long after that, the death of Selena, Levi’s clan-chosen mate, had been
another nail in all our coffins. All the bodies we’d left in our wake? More
nails.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last place in the world I felt safe was among wolves.
Keeping us here smacked of dropping some mice into the middle of a pride of
lions and insisting it was for their own good. Levi’s grandmother had turned on
us once before. She’d been the one to sound the alarm and bring in the wolves
who’d damn-near killed us all. Yeah, she’d turned around and been our savior in
the end, but who was to say she wouldn’t change her mind again? Or that this
wasn’t part of some elaborate plan to get us to complacently, quietly,
willingly face the clan’s judgment?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it one bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I didn’t have a choice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
None of us did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-15854401361757179302014-04-04T08:20:00.000-07:002014-04-04T08:20:39.036-07:00EXCERPT: The Only One Who MattersTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/Military.html#knows1">The Only One Who Matters</a></i><br />
Author: Cat Grant, L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Samhain Publishing<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coming home was always weirder than it should have been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With every completed mission, Lieutenant Commander Josh
Walker thought that feeling would go away, but it didn’t. Sliding into the
driver’s seat of his Mustang—after blasting the A/C to cool it down after four
weeks in the sun, of course—felt like climbing into the cockpit of an alien
ship. Feeling the seat belt through his shirt reminded him he was no longer
wearing a protective layer of body armor. When he glanced in the rearview and
side mirrors, he was so caught up in checking for insurgents and IEDs, he
nearly forgot to check for pedestrians and passing cars. He remembered, though,
and just in time not to back over a pair of civilian contractors.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He paused, elbow on the steering wheel, and rubbed a hand
over his jaw. Even his goddamned face felt weird, with a few weeks’ worth of
scruff now absent, replaced only by about twenty-four hours of stubble. He was
so used to his hair tickling the back of his neck, it was strange to feel cold
air on it now. The haircut, the air-conditioning, the lack of the Middle
Eastern sun—welcome home, Josh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Home. That thought brought a smile to his lips.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He checked the mirrors again, this time for passersby and
cars instead of phantom insurgents, and backed out of the parking space. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Traffic was lighter than usual, thank God, and he sped past
the familiar-but-strange scenery. It was good to see a landscape that wasn’t desert,
and, even better, something that wasn’t the drab, bare-bones inside of a cargo
jet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He parked in front of the one-story rental house, killed the
engine and got out. He didn’t even bother pulling his rucksack out of the
trunk. He’d carried men who outweighed him by a good hundred pounds through
hellish conditions, but just the thought of picking up that bag made him tired.
Between the long, miserable flights home—it took a hell of a storm to make a
dozen SEALs airsick—and this afternoon’s debrief, he was exhausted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though the ground floor had been picked out for other
reasons, he was sure thankful for it today. If he’d had to drag his ass up any
stairs, he might’ve just napped in the damned car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As he was putting his key in the door, a neighbor’s dog
started barking. Josh rolled his eyes. Great. All he wanted to do was sleep,
and now there—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He opened the door, and a huge German shepherd rushed at
him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What the—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Major! <i>Down!</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dog instantly dropped onto its haunches but whined
softly as it wagged its tail so hard it almost toppled itself. Josh stared at
it for a moment. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then he raised his gaze, and in spite of his surprise at the
strange dog in his house, grinned. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaning heavily—but not nearly as heavily as a month ago—on
a cane, David returned the grin, green eyes shining just right to make Josh
almost forget how exhausted he was. “Hey. Didn’t realize you’d landed already.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh shrugged. “Thought I’d surprise you. I just, uh…” He
glanced at the dog. “Wasn’t expecting Cujo here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David laughed. “Major, go lay down.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dog whined again, but then trotted over to the recliner
and lay beside it, head on his enormous paws.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh kicked the door shut and closed the distance between
him and David. Damn, it had been a while, hadn’t it? David was obviously
getting around better now. His sandy blond hair was a little longer—still
within regs, even though he’d been retired for months, but longer than when
Josh had left.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“God, I missed you,” Josh whispered, wrapping his arms
around him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Missed you too,” David murmured and kissed him. He put one
arm around Josh’s waist and rested the other hand, the one still holding the
cane, on Josh’s hip. His kiss was soft, not as demanding as it could be when he
was turned on, and Josh was grateful for it. Sometimes he came back from
missions and wanted to fuck until they couldn’t move, but sometimes, he… Hell,
he already couldn’t move.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David broke the kiss and touched his forehead to Josh’s.
“Tired?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Very.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He drew back enough to meet Josh’s eyes. Then he nodded down
the hall. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I will.” Josh touched David’s face. “But I want—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Josh.” David gave him a look that took Josh back to the
days of SEAL training, back when they’d been Chief Flint and Lieutenant Walker.
“I could tell the second you came in the door that you were dead on your feet.
Just go get some sleep.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But you—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Will be here when you get up.” He nudged Josh toward the
bedroom. “Go.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh wanted to argue. He hadn’t seen David in a damned
month. He wanted to catch up. Just be with him. Find out how his physical
therapy was going and his leg was healing and…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he was too fucking tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He kissed David softly. “Just a few hours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David smiled. “Enjoy it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh startled awake in a pitch-black room. Heart racing.
Panic running through his veins. Fear. Adrenaline. The cool air didn’t feel
right. Not on sunburned skin and—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, he wasn’t sunburned. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the sand in his mouth was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dream faded. He couldn’t remember what he’d dreamed
about, only that he had, in fact, dreamed, and his blood was still pumping from
it. Whatever it was, it was over.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Except that Josh was immobile. The sheet draped over his
body from the waist down was tight. Heavy. What the hell?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He squinted in the darkness as some faint light spilling in
from down the hall illuminated his familiar surroundings. The mismatched
silhouettes of a couple of craigslist dressers. The outline of the footboard.
The dark rectangle that he finally recognized as a framed print his mom had
given them as a housewarming gift. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Home. He was home. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the warm, solid shape beside him was David, sound
asleep, snoring softly, and safe. Josh closed his eyes and exhaled. A few
fleeting images from the dream flashed through his mind, and he remembered
being back out on the last mission, except this time, David was with him. Still
a SEAL. Still running like the best of them, or crouching along a wall as they
crept into a building, or carrying one of the guys. Then there’d been a
grenade.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh shuddered. All the dreams were different, but the
recurring theme was the same—David was healthy and mobile, and then he was
down, and then he was gone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But he was okay now. Josh was home, and David was asleep
beside him, his cane probably propped up against the nightstand and his leg
scarred from the bullet that had ended his career. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh started to roll toward him so he could put an arm over
him, but the sheet was still pulled tight. He couldn’t move. Something heavy
was pressed up against him. What the fuck was going on here?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He felt around, and his hand met thick, coarse fur. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dog. Right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wait, the dog was in bed with them?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, and sure enough, the
dog—Major, wasn’t that what David had called him?—was sprawled out beside Josh,
his paws hanging over the side of the bed. Seriously?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He dropped back onto the mattress and stared up at the
ceiling. Then he rolled over, which was a challenge when he was between David
and Major, and draped an arm over David’s waist. David stirred a little,
grumbling something in his sleep, and put a hand over Josh’s. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Closing his eyes, Josh kissed the back of David’s shoulder.
This felt so weird. The dog was new, of course, but even sleeping in his own
bed with his arm around David was…strange. Warm skin against warm skin made him
feel vulnerable. Much like the seat belt against his thin shirt, David’s body
against his reminded him he no longer wore that protective shell of Kevlar and
trauma plates. The blackout curtains over the window behind his back didn’t
make him feel any less like a pair of eyes or a sniper scope might peer through
it. The air tasted strange without the coppery tinge of blood or the sour bite
of sweat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sleep was a very real possibility here. No dreamless catnaps
whenever he could get them. He could fall asleep. He could dream. Pressed
against David, he shuddered. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He was home, damn it. Home and safe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why the fuck did he feel like he’d landed on another planet?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When Josh awoke again, he was alone. David was gone, and so
was the dog. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Every
muscle in his body ached, but it was that ache that came from sleeping too
long, so he couldn’t complain. He stretched a little, then got up, put on a
pair of shorts—holy fuck, it felt good not to be wearing sandy, sweaty camos
for once—and shuffled into the bathroom to take a leak. He considered grabbing
a shower but desperately needed a cigarette and some coffee first.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He headed out to the kitchen. There, David was standing at
the counter, the dog sitting beside him on the mat in front of the sink with
its tongue hanging out and tail wagging. Glancing over his shoulder, David
smiled. “Mornin’.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Mornin’.” Josh squinted against the bright sunlight. “How
long have I been out?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“About sixteen hours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jesus.” That was probably more than he’d slept in the
entire four-week deployment. Now he remembered why he preferred those
short-and-sweet missions that had him home before the fatigue had a chance to
catch up with him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he realized David was
standing unassisted by the counter. A month ago, he’d been glued to the cane. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You’re getting around a lot better, I see.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David smiled halfheartedly. “Still can’t quite leave that
thing behind”—he gestured at the cane propped up beside the kitchen table—“but
I can get further away from it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s progress.” Josh smiled. “What else has been going
on?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David leaned against the counter, subtly taking some weight
off his injured leg. “Same as when you left. Physical therapy. Still trying to
find a fucking job.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Any bites there?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nah.” David shook his head. “Not exactly qualified for much
behind a desk, and can’t stand long enough or move well enough to do anything I
<i>am</i> qualified to do.” He paused. “On a
positive note, my physical therapist is cutting me down to once every other
week.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really?” Josh grinned. “That’s great.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David managed a somewhat more enthusiastic expression.
“Yeah. Only getting tortured twice a month now.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Glad to hear you’re getting better.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Something like that,” David muttered. Before Josh could
press, David reached for him and put a hand on his waist. “How about you? You
doing all right?” He never asked for details about the mission. He knew better.
It was against regs to discuss it, and Josh suspected he didn’t want to know
anyway. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At their feet, the dog fidgeted, his tags jingling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh regarded him curiously. “Didn’t realize you’d found a
dog already.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He was Hanley’s dog. The wife was getting overwhelmed
keeping up with a puppy and two toddlers, and now with a new baby on the way…”
David gestured at Major. “I said I’d take him off her hands.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He seems pretty happy here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David glanced at the dog. “I like him. What do you think?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not sure yet. Is he, uh, friendly?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David threw him a good-natured glare. “No, Josh. I got us a
vicious biter who’s going to tear your throat out if you look at him
cross-eyed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Chuckling, Josh flipped him off. He knelt in front of the
dog, careful not to look him straight in the eyes, and held out his hand. Major
sniffed him, then licked his fingers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How old is he?” Josh asked as he petted him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Little over a year.” David came closer, resting his hand on
the counter to make up for the absence of the cane. “Sort of halfway between a
puppy and not.” He paused. “Housebroken already, thank God.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, that’s good. Especially if he’s sleeping on my side
of the bed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David laughed, eyes darting away. “We can, uh, get him his
own bed. I hadn’t meant for him to get in the habit, but…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh rose. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You sure?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh nodded. “It was just something to, you know, get used
to. Kind of, uh…” He hesitated. “Just kind of startled me the first time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
David locked eyes with him. “You still having nightmares?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Josh swallowed. “You telling me you aren’t?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They held each other’s gazes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then David broke away, clearing his throat. “Coffee’s ready.
You feel like having eggs or anything?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sure. Eggs sound good. I need to have a smoke first.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As David went to the refrigerator, his limp less pronounced
but still unmistakable, Josh sighed. He looked down at the dog sitting at his
feet and absently scratched Major’s ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coming home really was always weirder than it should have
been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-48154198627430665372014-04-04T08:16:00.003-07:002014-04-04T08:16:37.953-07:00EXCERPT: Changing PlansTitle: <i>Changing Plans</i> (2nd Edition)<br />
Includes previously publishing novellas - <i>Getting off the Ground, Infinity Pools,</i> & <i>On the List</i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Format: ebook<br />
<br />
Excerpt (<i>Getting off the Ground</i>):<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
CHAPTER 1<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>This is </i>just<i> what I need</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
White sand beaches. Palm trees. Two weeks, give or
take a day, in paradise with gorgeous, available men wearing more suntan lotion
than clothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I put down the travel brochure and glared at the
motionless aircraft just beyond the window. Not that I could see it very well;
its white fuselage was nearly camouflaged behind the snow that tumbled out of
the gray sky and spun and swirled in the heavy wind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A freak snowstorm when I was trying to get the
hell out of here. Yeah, <i>that</i> was what
I needed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The other passengers milled around the gate,
waiting with knitted eyebrows and folded arms. Anytime one of the staff members
went near the microphone to make an announcement or call for a specific
passenger, everyone stiffened and craned their necks, waiting for updates.
Worried phone calls were made, tense breaths were taken and released, and the
floor vibrated with the faint percussion of pacing feet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A narrow aisle divided my row of stiff, faux
leather chairs from a facing row. The woman sitting across from me between two
bored-looking kids leaned forward. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Do you think our flight will be delayed again?”
she asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I glanced out the window once more. I hadn’t seen
anything take off in at least two hours, and it didn’t look like that was
changing any time soon. Nodding, I faced her again. “Yeah, they’ll probably
delay it again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
She pursed her lips. “Well, hopefully we won’t be
stuck here too much longer.” She sat back, staring out the same window and
folding her hands in her lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Guess we’ll see,” I muttered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A few seats over from her, a good-looking guy with
sandy blond hair and five o’clock shadow looked up from his laptop. He glanced
at her, then me, and a vague look of amusement tried to curl the corner of his
mouth before he turned his attention back to the screen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wondered how the hell he was so relaxed when
everyone else walked the fine line between concern and panic. Unlike those of
us who wouldn’t truly be on vacation until we landed in Honolulu, he was
dressed like his vacation had already begun. He didn’t look at all like someone
stranded in Seattle during a surprise blizzard. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
It wasn’t just the sandals, khaki shorts, and
tasteful blue Hawaiian shirt with the top button undone, either. His feet were
propped up on his suitcase and crossed at the ankles, the computer balanced on
his knees, and he didn’t look like he gave a shit or even noticed what was
going on all around him. He’d been there for the last hour or two, and he’d
barely batted an eye when the first delay was announced. Nor the second. When
the snow came down harder, he’d looked, but no reaction registered on his face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
At first I wondered if he’d had a few drinks or
maybe thrown back a Valium like my mother always did when she flew, but that theory
went out the window when I watched his hands for a moment. Judging by the way
his fingers moved on the keyboard, he was playing a game. It was easy to tell,
even from here: the same keystrokes, over and over, and sometimes his brow
furrowed and lips tightened as those keystrokes quickened. Then he’d exhale,
shake his head, and punch in some other command before resuming the repetitive
motions. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He was way too alert to be drugged but appeared,
aside from momentary displays of frustration with his game, completely relaxed
and unperturbed. He must have been one of those people who didn’t get pissed
off in traffic jams, either. One of those aggravatingly relaxed ones who just
turned up the radio, tapped the beat into the steering wheel with his thumbs, all
the while reminding himself over and over, “I’ll get there eventually, no sense
getting stressed over it.” I, meanwhile, would be three cars back,
white-knuckling the wheel and praying for sweet death if it meant not sitting
there for another two minutes. Once our plane finally boarded and took off,
this guy would probably be sound asleep for the entire flight while I drummed
my fingers on a shared armrest and tried in vain to get comfortable.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His eyes flicked up and met mine, and I quickly
shifted my gaze away, my cheeks burning as I wondered just how long I’d been
absently staring at him. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
It wasn’t only his relaxed state that had drawn my
attention. He was definitely easy on the eyes. The loose sleeves of his
Hawaiian shirt were just short enough to hint at his well-toned biceps, and his
sculpted forearms, tanned and lightly dusted with dark blond hair, didn’t
belong to someone who spent <i>all</i> his
time fucking off and playing video games. His legs were similarly toned and
bronzed. Chiseled jaw, prominent cheekbones, and—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And I was staring again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I cleared my throat and turned to riffle through
my carry-on bag. I didn’t actually need anything out of it, but it gave me
something to focus on besides Mr. Calm, Collected, and Fucking <i>Hot</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Attention passengers waiting for flight
two-zero-five bound for Honolulu International Airport,” the flight attendant’s
voice crackled over the loudspeaker, giving me something else to think about. “Due
to snow conditions here at Sea-Tac, this flight will be delayed another two
hours.” A collective groan rippled through the crowd and drowned out her <i>sincerest</i> apologies for the
inconvenience. The guy in the Hawaiian shirt pursed his lips and muttered
something under his breath, but otherwise didn’t react. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I looked at my watch. It was ten past noon. As of
now, our flight wouldn’t be leaving until at least three, and that assumed the
weather cleared up. If it got to be four or five in the evening, the
sun—wherever the fuck it was—would be going down. Even if the snow stopped
coming down, the temperature wouldn’t be rising, and that meant only one thing:
ice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Glancing around the terminal, I made note of
several other gates that were crowded with impatient-looking souls. It wasn’t a
terribly busy travel day and it was off-peak season, so it wasn’t wall-to-wall
people like it would have been in June or around Thanksgiving. Still, there
were a hell of a lot of people stranded like myself and the mother who fretted
and fidgeted across from me. A lot of people who weren’t going anywhere anytime
soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I pulled my laptop out of its case and powered it
up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I’d promised myself this wouldn’t be another
vacation full of neurotic pre-planning or doing things just to be on the safe
side. This would be as close to reckless as Elliott Chandler was capable of
being. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Still, this was an extenuating circumstance, and I
convinced myself that even my devil-may-care partner—<i>ex</i>-partner—wouldn’t have argued. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
When my computer finished starting up, I paused to
look at the desktop background I’d put up last night. It was a screenshot of my
to-do list on this trip.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
——<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><i>1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal;"> </span></i><!--[endif]--><i>Cancel a reservation at the last minute.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><i>2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal;"> </span></i><!--[endif]--><i> </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><i>3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal;"> </span></i><!--[endif]--><i>Some random guy I haven’t met yet.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><i>4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal;"> </span></i><!--[endif]--><i> </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><i>Sex on the beach.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><o:p> </o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
——<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I chuckled to myself. Only I would make a to-do
list for a damned vacation, especially one that may as well have just said, <i>stop planning and go get laid, dumbshit.</i>
And only I would consider cancelling a reservation at the last minute to be
wild and reckless. Knowing me, it wouldn’t turn out to be anything riskier than
canceling a dinner reservation and eating someplace else at the last second.
Yeah, I was extreme.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Oh, well. The very fact that I was still taking
this trip was unusual by my standards, especially since I was going alone. I
wasn’t <i>supposed</i> to be going alone,
but why let both expensive honeymoon tickets go to waste?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
After logging into the airport’s obscenely
overpriced wireless network, I did a quick search of nearby hotels. There was
no sense paying for a shuttle and going home for the night; if the weather was
bad enough to cancel my flight, then I didn’t relish the idea of being driven
in it, either. My house was an hour away in decent weather. It would easily be
three hours or more in this shit, with the added risk of a wreck because of ice
or low visibility. No, thanks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A hotel was clearly the more prudent option, and a
few clicks later, I had a reservation for tonight. A larger and more expensive
room than I’d wanted, but it was all that was available, so I took it. While my
computer shut down, I pulled out my cell phone. There were a few missed calls,
which didn’t surprise me. That was exactly why my phone had been on silent
since last night anyhow. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
They could wait a minute. I dialed the hotel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A female voice picked up on the other end. “Front
desk, how may I help you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I just made a reservation online for tonight,” I
said. “I’d like to confirm that it came through. Last name is Chandler.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“One moment, please.” Keys clicked in the
background. Then, “Elliott Chandler?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes, ma’am.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I have you down for a non-smoking room with two
queen beds for one night. Is that correct?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes, that’s correct.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Excellent,” she said. “Looks like you got one of
the last available rooms for tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I forced a laugh even though my mind reeled with <i>what if I’d waited another ten minutes to
make the call? </i>“Guess I booked it just in time.”<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes, you did,” she said. “We’ll see you this
evening, Mr. Chandler.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Thank you.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With that out of the way, I scrolled through my
missed calls. My mom again. My sister Cassie. I wasn’t sure if it should have
surprised me or not that Ben, my ex as of much too recently, had called twice. Maybe
it should have, maybe it shouldn’t have, but it damn sure did. The only thing I
wanted to hear from him right now was, “I’ll be moved out by the time you get
back.” That much could be contained in a voice mail, and he hadn’t left one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I didn’t feel like talking to my mom, and I was <i>not</i> calling Ben anytime soon, but Cassie
was always a welcome diversion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Hey, Ell,” she said when she answered. “How are
you holding up?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’ll live.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“God, I hope so,” she said, a hint of a laugh in
her voice. “But, I’m serious, how are—wait, where are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“The airport.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“The…airport?” she sputtered. “You’re not…I
thought you were joking about going.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I was,” I said. “But then I decided it was a good
idea, so here I am.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Wow.” She exhaled. “So, you’re actually taking a
honeymoon by yourself?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I laughed dryly. “I don’t think it qualifies as a
honeymoon anymore now that I’m going by myself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Mr. Calm and Cool’s eyes flicked toward me for a
split second. The woman across from me raised her eyebrows. I buried my gaze in
my carry-on bag. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“So, what are you going to do?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Spend two weeks in Hawaii pretending I didn’t
just get dumped, I guess,” I said. “We had all kinds of things planned, so—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesus, Ell,” she said. “Only you would plan every
minute of your damned honeymoon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I didn’t plan every minute of it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes, you did.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Okay, fine, I did.” I laughed again, but didn’t
put much effort into it. “Yes, the whole trip is planned down to the last minute,
but at least it’s better than moping around the house.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“True. I can’t argue with that.” She sighed. “Are
you sure you’ll be okay? After what happened?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Not like I’m the first guy to get stood up at the
altar.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The squeak of movement on leather made me
instinctively look up, and the mother across from me met my eyes. Her eyebrows
were up, so I had no doubt she’d overheard me. I dropped my gaze again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You’re not the first,” Cassie said. “But that
doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Shouldn’t you take some time to deal with it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I am, Cass. That’s why I’m going. Maybe it’ll
give him time to move his crap out of the house while I’m gone. I just, I need
to be as far from him as I can get right now.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A sharp breath preceded more movement in front of
me. I glanced up as the woman and her kids collected their things. She shot me
a disgusted look just before they moved to another row of seats.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I didn’t have the energy to get offended and didn’t
bother rolling my eyes. I didn’t care. It had been less than twenty-four hours
since the man who was supposed to love me decided to ditch me at our own
wedding. Anyone who didn’t like two men getting married could shove their
judgment right up their ass at this point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You still there?” Cassie asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Just got…distracted.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“That doesn’t surprise me right now.” She blew out
a breath. “Well, have fun on your trip.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I will, assuming the plane ever gets off the
ground.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh, shit, yeah,” she said. “They said on the news
they’re canceling flights left and right. You still going to make it out of
there tonight?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Hopefully.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
She was quiet for a moment. “You sound way too <i>okay</i> with that. Are—oh, wait. You have a
backup plan, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I laughed. “Of course I have a backup plan.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You would. Listen, I have to run, but try to have
a good time, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Will do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Put it on your to-do list or something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Shut up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Bye, Ell.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Chuckling, I hung up and slid my phone back into
my pocket. As I sat back, I caught Mr. Calm and Cool’s eye. A ghost of a grin
gave his lips the most mouthwatering shape and added a devilish sparkle to his
eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Those sparkling blue eyes darted toward the empty
seats across from me, then to the place the woman and her kids had parked
themselves, then back to me. The grin broadened.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Was it something I said?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I laughed again and shrugged. “More like something
I said.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He threw a dismissive gesture in her direction. “Fuck
her.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’d rather not, thanks,” I muttered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He snickered and dropped his feet from on top of
his suitcase to the floor. Laptop in one hand, leather case slung over his
other shoulder, he toed his suitcase across the floor. He set everything else
in one of the seats the woman and her kids had occupied. Before he took a seat
himself, he extended his hand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Derek Windsor.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I shook his hand. “Elliott Chandler.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He dropped into the chair opposite me and leaned
back, crossing his feet at the ankles and lacing his fingers behind his head.
As he’d been all along, the very picture of relaxed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“So, what’s taking you to Hawaii?” I asked. “Business
or pleasure?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Actually, I’m heading home,” he said. “I was in
Denver on business, stopped into Seattle for a few days to visit family, and
now I’m on my way home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You live in Hawaii?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He nodded. “Maui, actually.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Damn. Wrong island. “Must be nice.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He shrugged. “Oh, the novelty wears off after a
while, but I do love it.” He threw a smirk toward the windows. “I certainly don’t
miss the snow.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I could do without it myself,” I grumbled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Ah, come on now, it doesn’t snow here that much.”
He paused. “Or, is this just a stopover for you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, no, I live here,” I said. “And I do like it.
Aside from the”—I gestured at the window—“humidity.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Derek laughed. “Just wait until you get to Hawaii.
<i>That</i>, my friend, is humidity.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“So I’ve heard.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Never been there?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I shook my head. “Haven’t done a lot of traveling,
I’m afraid.” I leaned back and slung one arm across the back of the chair
beside me, trying to look a hell of a lot more relaxed than I felt. Though I
had to admit, Derek’s calm-amidst-the-storm demeanor was contagious. People
like that usually just served to remind me how wound up I was. Derek may as
well have been kneading my shoulders and whispering in my ear right then.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>I wish,</i> I
thought as I stole another glance at his arms.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I cleared my throat. “Any recommendations for a
clueless tourist?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He smiled. “I thought I heard you saying you’d
planned every minute of your trip.” He paused, then quickly added, “Not that I
was trying to eavesdrop. You know how it is…” He gestured around the crowd of
passengers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Bound to overhear
a conversation or two in here. And to answer your question, I did have it all
planned, but I was also planning to have someone with me. Since that plan’s
changed, why not throw the rest out the window with it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He gave a slow nod. “Point taken. Which island are
you visiting?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oahu. Staying in Honolulu” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Hmm. Can’t say I’m familiar enough with Oahu to
help you much. Now, Maui and Molokai? I know those two like the back of my
hand.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>Just my luck</i>.
“Sounds like I picked the wrong island, then.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” His eyes met mine,
and my heart skipped. The water surrounding Hawaii only aspired to be that
blue. “There’s still plenty to do on Oahu. I just wouldn’t be much of a tour
guide.” He brought his hands down, letting one rest on the handle of his
suitcase while he leaned the other elbow on the chair’s armrest. “Are you the
type who likes the more touristy places, or the out of the way things only the
locals know about?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I chewed my lip. Which type <i>was</i> I? Before today, I was the type who planned everything to the
last minute, never strayed off the beaten path, and took every recommended
precaution. Plus a few extra precautions for good measure. I followed
guidebooks like they were brain surgery manuals. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Yesterday, my perfectly planned world was yanked
out from under my feet. Every plan I’d made from this point forward was
screwed. This morning, when I’d left for the airport, the guidebook remained
beside my bed. Whether it was for spite, or because I just didn’t give a fuck
anymore, I’d left it behind. All I had was a brochure with the number and
address of my hotel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Quite honestly,” I said finally, “I don’t know
what type of tourist I am.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Derek tilted his head and regarded me silently. He
absently traced his lower lip with the tip of his thumb. My own fingertips
tingled, reminding me I wasn’t touching him. As if I’d forgotten.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Well,” he said, his voice quiet but reaching me
with ease in spite of the voices and movement all around us, “I do have some
friends on Oahu. I could give you their contact information. They know a lot of
the places no one tells the tourists about.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“They wouldn’t mind a tourist joining them?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. Some of
the places are just restaurants, secluded beaches, the good hiking trails.
Things like that. Some are”—he glanced at the mother who’d herded her children
away from me, then looked at me and lowered his voice a little more—“friendlier
than others, if you know what I mean.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My heart sped up. “Are there places like that on
all the islands?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“There are.” Derek held my gaze. “Some more than
others.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“More places than others?” I asked. “Or friendlier
than others?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I gulped. I really <i>was</i> going to the wrong island.</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-651281718476047332014-04-04T08:12:00.001-07:002014-04-04T08:12:21.327-07:00EXCERPT: No Distance Left to RunTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/wildes.html#ndltr">No Distance Left to Run</a></i><br />
Author: Aleksandr Voinov, L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Samhain Publishing<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The text from Deb wasn’t entirely out of the blue, but I
always got nervous when I saw her name on my phone. With her father in fading
health, no news was usually good news, so a message could mean anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Can we meet for lunch?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, that wasn’t too bad, then.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sure. When?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t have to be at work for a few hours. She probably
had a pretty short window between dropping the kids off at school and picking
them up. While I waited for a response, I pulled up the traffic app and checked
traffic between Seattle and the Eastside where she lived, which gave me
something to do besides worry that she was going to tell me her dad’s condition
had worsened. I hadn’t even seen much of the Hawthorne family since I’d left
the Church, but they’d been like my second family when I was growing up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She texted me back with the time and suggested a place on my
side of Lake Washington. Convenient. Just in case we ran late—when didn’t we?—I
put my work clothes in a bag and left them in the backseat of my car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At twelve thirty on the nose, she pulled into the parking
lot of one of those insanely healthy vegan cafés in Fremont, just outside of
downtown Seattle. <i>Hope you’re buying this time</i>, I thought. Places like
this were <i>not </i>cheap.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as I saw her, my heart dropped. She always looked
tired—six kids under seven will do that to you—but she was tense. Really tense.
Nervous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey.” I hugged her gently. “You all right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah. I’m fine.” She pulled back and plastered on a phony
smile that was totally out of character for her. This wasn’t good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How’s your dad?” I asked quietly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deb straightened a bit, the smile faltering. “He’s not well,
but that’s not why I’m here.” She gestured at the coffee shop. “Let’s go in and
sit. I…need to talk to you about something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah. Definitely not good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Deb.” I touched her arm. “Just tell me. Straight out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She shook her head. “I don’t think this is—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please. No beating around the bush.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She held my gaze for a moment and then swallowed hard. “It’s
about my brother.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something twisted deep in my gut. She had four brothers,
three of them still living. I cleared my throat. “Okay. Which one?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deb locked eyes with me, though it seemed to take a lot of
effort. “Joshua.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I winced and shifted my gaze away. “How in the world is this
urgent, then?” Unless someone had found his body. At least then, maybe we could
all have some closure, but God, his parents didn’t need—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Chris.” When I met her eyes again, she whispered, “He’s
alive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>What?</i>” My knees
buckled. I grabbed the side of her minivan and leaned hard against it. “How the
hell… He’s alive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She smiled, but that nervous tension remained in her
expression. “It’s a long story. I’ve…I’ve been back in contact with him for a
while. Almost a year now, off and on.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could barely breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Because he didn’t want anyone to know.” She exhaled. “He
knows people were hurt when he left.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Left?” I growled. “What do you mean he <i>left</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Exactly that. He left.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Left.</i> I had a hard time trying to work out whether
this was one of those horrible nice phrases, like “he passed away” or “he’s
gone home to Jesus,” a pretty veneer for something awful, or whether she was
really so blasé about it. Seeing the tension around her jaw, the second option
looked a great deal unlikely. “Explain. Please?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She tugged at my arm toward the café, and I got the hint and
sighed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We found a table—she’d selected a quiet corner—and then we
went through the torturous process of ordering drinks while<i> he left, he left</i>
echoed through my head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When she leaned forward again, her eyes were all soft. “So,
yes. Joshua left. That’s how he puts it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was only really sinking in that he was alive. He could
still do that. Use words. Give things names and descriptions. Something shifted
in my chest, some kind of weight, or maybe grief, or maybe something else
entirely. I wanted to strangle him, but this was only his sister, and she
didn’t deserve that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deb went on. “Joshua reached out to me about a year ago. He
found me on Facebook, of all places.” She leaned back when the waiter brought
our coffees—decaf for her, of course—and ordered her superfood salad. I shook
my head when the waiter asked me if I wanted anything. My stomach was too busy
knotting and twisting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So, how is he?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She drew up her shoulders. “Well enough, I think. I asked
him to come home to make his peace with Dad.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another one of those pretty words. Whether the old man
wanted to be made peace with was an entirely different matter, but we both knew
that. Deb always believed in family and forgiveness. I wasn’t so sure about all
that. I had precious little experience with happy family reunions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s coming.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My stomach was busy enough to tolerate the sip of coffee. No
way could I have eaten anything now. “All right.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s arriving this evening at Sea-Tac.” She lifted her
eyebrows.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Oh no. I’m not picking him up with you. No way.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started to shake my head, but she reached across the table
and put a hand on my arm. “He wants to see you. He’s here to make peace with
our father, but…you’re the one he’s been talking about recently.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And after five years of thinking he’s dead, I’m supposed to
show up at the airport with flowers and a smile?” I pulled my arm back. “No.
Just…no. I can’t.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It doesn’t have to be tonight. He’ll probably need to rest
and settle in anyway. I’m sure he’ll be jetlagged, and…” She trailed off, then
lowered her gaze and picked up her coffee.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jetlagged.” I tilted my head. “Where exactly is he coming
from?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deb took a sip of coffee, rolling it around for a moment
before she set it back down. “France.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I blinked. “France? What in the…” I closed my eyes and shook
my head. “Last I heard, he was missing and presumed dead. Now he’s alive and
flying in from <i>France</i>?” I sat up. “What is going on?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She took a deep breath. Folding her hands on the table, she
met my eyes, her expression taut and stoic like it probably was whenever she
had to explain something difficult to one of her children. “When he disappeared
from his mission, it was because he left. He just…left. He wasn’t kidnapped or
killed or anything like that. He left, he changed his name, and he joined the
French Foreign Legion.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stared at her, waiting for the punch line. That was not
the Joshua I knew. Not even close. He was the straight-A student, the track
star, the football star, the everything-he-ever-did star. The first-chair
trumpet player and promising business student who’d locked in a full-ride
scholarship to Brigham Young, only to have his life tragically cut short during
his two-year mission. People like that grew up to be CEOs. Or bishops. Or
senators. They didn’t just up and walk away from everything to join the…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The French Foreign Legion. You’re serious.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deb nodded. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I could
barely believe he was alive until I talked to him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The words thumped against my chest. “You’ve actually talked
to him? Like, on the phone?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She nodded again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So he was alive. His sister would have known if he was an
imposter or a scam artist. If she’d spoken to him and still believed him, then
he really was alive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Laughing softly, she said, “He sounds a lot different now. I
mean, it’s his voice. I knew it was him the moment I answered the phone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Then how is he different?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s got an accent now. French, I guess. His English was
actually a little rough.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I struggled to imagine Mr. Class President, he of the
eloquent speeches even in high school, having any difficulty with the English
language. “But you’re sure it was him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her laughter vanished, and she nodded slowly. “Absolutely.
Chris, I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this. Joshua is alive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something shifted again in my chest. Like every damn organ I
possessed. Maybe her relief or her love for her brother—some of that translated
itself to me, though I didn’t want it to. I’d mourned him for so long that
hearing he was alive was actually painful. But the whole story seemed
unbelievable at the same time, exotic and strange and so not Joshua. I wanted
to see him. And I never wanted to see him again. All this was half a dream and
half <i>Careful what you wish for</i>. Alive. And soon back home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What else…did he say?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He mostly asked about the family, but he didn’t say much
more apart from what I told you. He seemed to be really…I don’t know. Relaxed?
About some things? Laid back?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, I asked him what he was going to do if he decides to
get out, and he said, ‘Something will come up’.” She shook her head. “Like it
didn’t matter and like he wasn’t worried at all.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not like Joshua either. I wouldn’t exactly call him a
control freak, but he liked his plans and his schedules, and he was usually
extremely well prepared. A shrugged <i>God will provide </i>attitude was out of
character for him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Where is he staying?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He didn’t say. I offered, but maybe my house is a bit too
busy. Can’t have him overdose on family right away.” She smiled a little. “I’ll
let him recover from the trip before I introduce him to the other kids.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five years. Good heavens. He didn’t know most of her kids. She’d
been pregnant with the third and fourth when he’d allegedly died, and there’d
been two more since then. His own family was full of strangers now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And maybe it was wise to give him some space. He’d bolted
once—though the why was what really interested me. The Legion? What kind of
harebrained idea was that? Who ran away from home—or a mission, for God’s sake—and
joined the Legion?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “When are you going to pick
him up?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“At seven.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her face was all open and inviting. Somehow, she managed to
put the possibility out there in the room without applying pressure or
guilt-tripping me. Then again, there was no guilt to trip over. If anybody,
that was Joshua’s role.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“International flight? He might be delayed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think it’s a connecting flight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So epic possibilities for delays and other clusterfucks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sucked on my teeth for a moment. Though, how bad could it
be?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Pretty damn bad. You could try to punch him, and you both
get arrested.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I could wait with you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She smiled and reached over the table to touch my hand.
“Thank you, Chris. I’m sure it’ll mean the world to him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Unless I punch him. Bastard</i>.</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-16505334299965716362014-04-04T08:09:00.002-07:002014-04-04T08:12:48.725-07:00EXCERPT: General MisconductTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/Military.html#general">General Misconduct</a></i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Samhain Publishing<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Go hike to Hiji Falls this weekend,” MA1 Randall had said
in the emergency room on Friday night. “Take some pictures. Post them on
Facebook. Make a few offhand comments about the rocks being slick, and you fell
and busted your ass.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Or my face?” I’d asked dryly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He’d shrugged. “The rocks are slick, and it’s steep. Trust
me, it can be done.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hadn’t gone anywhere on Saturday. Partly sleeping off the
long night, partly not wanting to venture outside the safety of my apartment.
This morning, though, I decided I should put Randall’s advice to good use
before I went back to work tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Parked in front of the half-translated sign at the
trailhead, I glanced at myself in the rearview. The bandage over my eyebrow and
the welt on my cheekbone glared back. From this angle, I couldn’t see the mark
on my throat, but it throbbed enough to keep me aware of it. Every time I moved
my hand, the raw skin on my knuckles burned. Skepticism swelled in my gut. Would
anyone really buy that all this shit had happened in anything less than a
fight?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hopefully, they would. And if my dignity had to take a hit
so my career didn’t end before it had begun, then so be it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sighed and got out of my car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though it was still early in the day, the Okinawan heat and
humidity were already in full swing. Seemed like a good day to hit the beach
and maybe try my hand at snorkeling instead of hiking, but the stitches above
my eyebrow begged to differ.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Keep it clean and
dry,”</i> the doc had emphatically said before discharging me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hiking it was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Technically, I didn’t have to go to Hiji Falls. There were
any number of places around the island where I could spend the day and then
post on Facebook that I’d busted my ass on some rocks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I was rattled and didn’t have it in me to think of some
other destination besides the one the cop had recommended. That, and I was
still terrified of someone finding out what had really happened, and on some
irrational level, I’d convinced myself that following his instructions to the
letter would keep my secret on the down-low where it belonged. Trust the Naval
Academy to beat <i>that</i> into my skull.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started up the trail. I’d heard the kilometer-long hike to
Hiji was a steep one, and it lived up to legend. The short stretch from the
parking area to the trailhead was good and flat, but then it inclined sharply
as it led into the thick forest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I barely noticed the scenery. My legs burned as I followed
the shady trail—and endless staircases—up and down steep slopes and around
sharp bends and switchbacks, but my mind was a million miles away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friday night shouldn’t have happened the way it did. The
warning signs had been there from the get-go. Glenn was drunk and so was I, but
I’d been coherent. He’d been a little too pushy, a little too in my space, and
no amount of haven’t-been-laid-in-too-damned-long should have blinded me to
those red flags.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Idiot that I was, I’d left Palace Habu with him, and that
was when things had gone downhill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>Why don’t we grab a
cab and go back to my place?</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>Uh, actually I’d— Let
go of my arm.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>Let’s go.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i>Let’s not.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fifteen minutes later, I was in the back of a cab on my way
to the hospital at Camp Lester with a handful of cocktail napkins pressed
against the cut above my eyebrow that would <i>not</i>
stop bleeding. Freaked out. Rattled. Mind full of all the things that could
have happened to me if I hadn’t landed that punch just right, if I hadn’t
managed to knock him back long enough to get up and bolt for the end of the
alley.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, that panic lingered beneath my skin, and God knew I’d
spent all of yesterday and last night obsessing over every way things could
have happened, scaring myself shitless with all kinds of possibilities, but as
I walked down the narrow path toward Hiji Falls, the fear was mostly gone. Now
I was angry. Fucking furious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not just at Glenn, but at myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a goddamned second-degree black belt. I had titles in
kickboxing and jiu-jitsu. Gold fucking medals, and not just at local competitions.
I didn’t <i>get</i> my ass handed to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grinding my teeth, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my
shorts, brushing my raw knuckles on the seam. I walked faster, as if I could
march the fear and anger right out of myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dad had put me in martial arts when I was a kid. The
minute he suspected I was gay, he’d enrolled me in every form of self-defense
imaginable because he’d been scared to death someone would try to beat me up
when they found out. Whether or not it had been necessary was debatable. All I
knew was the first time someone took a swing at me, I was fourteen, and no one
who heard about that incident ever tried anything after that, no matter how
they felt about gays.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then the first time someone <i>really</i> threatened me, someone who intended to do God only knew what
once he overpowered me, I’d just barely gotten away from him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How fucking ironic. My dad had made sure I was extensively
trained so I could protect myself from homophobes, and the one who finally
bloodied my knuckles and split my eyebrow was another damned gay man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A chill beneath my skin made me shudder, and I broke out in
goose bumps in spite of the heat. Continuing down a flat, winding stretch of
trail, I alternated between being on the verge of tears—from shame <i>and</i> fear—and wanting to punch something.
My pride was as busted up as my face and my hand, but it wasn’t just that. The
guy scared me. He did. I couldn’t pretend he didn’t. I’d had training, but so
had he. Even the cockiest black belt doesn’t take his own skills for granted against
a Marine, and even drunk, that Marine had gotten me flat on my back on the
pavement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All the way up the trail, as it rose and fell and took me
deeper into the forest, I couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened
the other night. What all too easily <i>could</i>
have happened.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then what? Was I really going to broadcast to everyone
in my chain of command that I’d been in a gay bar on Gate Two Street? Everybody
knew the clubs on Gate Two Street could be sketchy, especially the ones down
back alleys.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even if we hadn’t met in one of those clubs, I suspected
Glenn had the upper hand if our chains of command got involved. He had had just
enough lines on his face and gray in his buzz cut to suggest he had a good
fifteen years or more on me. Older men were fine and good, but an older
American man on this island meant he was stationed here, which meant if he was
an officer, he outranked the shit out of me. Even if he was enlisted, he’d have
almost an entire career’s worth of credibility over an ensign straight out of
the academy. Yeah, maybe I could take his career down with allegations of
assault—sexual or otherwise—but that didn’t mean mine wouldn’t go down with his.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shook my head and kept walking.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Up ahead, a laminated piece of white paper nailed to a post
caught my eye. It was in English, so I stopped to read it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Call Point: This is
the place where the electric wave of the mobile phone reaches.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pulled out my cell phone. Sure enough, I had a few bars.
From here on out, I guessed, that wouldn’t be the case.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eyeing the trail ahead of me, I couldn’t help feeling a
little nervous about moving out into a cell phone dead zone. Glenn was probably
sleeping off a hangover somewhere, maybe icing his lip or something, but part
of me was sure that the second I lost my ability to call for help, he’d be
right there waiting for me around the next bend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Aiden. For Christ’s
sake. Just keep going.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I closed my eyes. My sensei had taught me a dozen ways to
center myself, to calm myself, and I applied them one after the other.
Breathing. Concentrating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I opened my eyes again, Glenn was still lurking in the
shadows, but the irrational panic was under control. I rolled my shoulders a
few times and continued past the sign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In an effort to ignore Glenn, I tried to concentrate on the
scenery. To my surprise, I started to relax a little. It was hard to stay tense
and stressed in an environment like this once I actually let myself take it all
in. Though the tropical sun was brutal today, the thick canopy of branches and
leaves kept the trail comfortably shaded. Beside the trail, a narrow creek
wound lazily between trees and boulders, which added a nice backdrop to all the
birds singing—or shrieking, in some cases—above me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The narrow trail had been painstakingly kept, the edges
manicured and the staircases well-repaired, which was a nice switch from some
of the places I’d hiked back in the States. Nothing wrecked a great hike like
twisting an ankle on a rotted step. Though I supposed it would add some
credibility to my cover story.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few other hikers passed me on their way back down. Not a
single American among them, but I supposed that wasn’t a surprise. Commander
Connelly and some of the other guys in the office had mentioned that Americans
weren’t prone to leaving the bases. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to
stay on base all the time. If I wanted to be contained in a small area, I’d
have requested orders to a damned ship.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The falls were close. The deep creek beside the trail ran
faster and with more force, and the distinctive sound of crashing, rushing
water was louder with every bend in the trail. The closer I got to the falls,
the more aware I was of the sweat and humidity dampening my skin and the fierce
heat gnawing on the back of my neck. A dozen signs at the beginning of the
trail had warned against swimming up here, but I was pretty sure I could be
forgiven for bending—okay, breaking—a few rules when it was this hot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the very least, I was taking off my boots and putting my
feet in the water. Just the thought of that made me feel cooler all over.
Whether my cover story ended up holding water—so to speak—or not, this hike had
been a damned good idea. I felt better. A lot better. Glenn wasn’t here, I
wasn’t in any danger, and this environment had shaken some of the stress out of
me, replacing the tension with a satisfying ache of muscles having to work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The trail went up again, and then started down, and there
were the falls. Gorgeous white water spilled over moss-covered rocks and into a
wide pool.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that was when I saw the most gorgeous set of shirtless
shoulders I’d ever seen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The guy was swimming on the other side of a <i>No Swimming</i> sign. Well, not really
swimming. More like wading. In the water, anyway, in spite of the emphatic
cartoon characters warning of snakes, slick rocks, falling stones and whatever
other dangers lurked up here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His back was to me, which gave me the most jaw-dropping view
of those broad, wet shoulders. His soaked black shorts held on to his hips and
ass <i>just</i> right. Tall, lanky—no way in
hell he was much older than me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He straightened a little and slowly turned around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh. My God.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Definitely not older than me. Probably a few years younger,
actually. Twenty, twenty-one tops. Even from here, as I came down the trail on
legs that were suddenly not terribly steady, his blue eyes were…disarming.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As far as I could tell, he was American—definitely not
Japanese—but there was no way he was military. Not unless he was at least a
couple of weeks into some extended leave. His dark hair was too long, the ends
curling at the base of his neck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stopped at the end of the trail, standing between a couple
of rocks near the fence at the edge of the pool. He was maybe ten feet away
now, close enough I could see droplets of water sliding down the grooves in his
lean, smooth muscles. There was a little bit of dark hair plastered against his
chest and his tanned arms, but not a lot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he was looking right back at me, eyes locked on mine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi.” I smiled, hoping he’d buy that it was the heat and the
hike that had turned my cheeks as red as I was sure they were.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi.” He returned the smile. “Another brave one bests the
trail and the snakes and makes it to the top.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I laughed. “I didn’t see any snakes. Did you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not this time.” His lips quirked. “Were you watching the
ground?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Where else would I look?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He gestured above my head. “They hang out in the trees
during the day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Slowly, I lifted my gaze. There weren’t any low-hanging
branches right here, thank God, but I realized the trail had been shaded almost
the entire way. And here I’d been worried about a drunk Marine jumping out at
me. “Oh. Awesome. Glad someone mentioned that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Laughing, the guy in the water waded closer. “Just messing
with you. They do hang in the trees, but I’ve been up here a million times and
never seen one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You ever seen one at all?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sure.” He shrugged. “You do enough hiking, you’re going to
sooner or later. But as long as they’re coiled up in the trees, you’re fine.
They come at you in the grass, they’ll ruin your day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So, watching the ground…<i>is</i>
a good idea?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Always. But, you know, keep an eye on the trees.” He rested
his hip against a boulder. “Nice hike, isn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Truth be told, I don’t
remember.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s a nice trail.” I glanced back at the visible twist of
rocks and stairs. “I’ve definitely hiked worse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Recently?” He arched an eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He gestured at his face, and I was suddenly hyperaware of
the bandages and marks on my face. More heat rushed into my cheeks, and I
dropped my gaze. “Oh. That.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I…didn’t realize it…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand and looked him in the
eye. “It’s a long story.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Awkward silence in three…two…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You going to get in the water?” He motioned at the enticing
pool.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I, um…” I glanced at the <i>No Swimming or Wading</i> sign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t worry about that.” He gestured dismissively. “Seriously,
nobody cares.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn’t that I was worried about the sign and anyone who
might happen along to enforce it. I’d already planned on getting in the water
anyway. I just hadn’t banked on getting into the same water as someone who was
making my legs shake worse than the hilly kilometer I’d just hiked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Just get in the water,
idiot.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I untied the laces and slipped off my boots. Then I emptied
my pockets, leaving my car keys and wallet inside one of my boots. I started to
pull off my shirt but hesitated. Though the trail was shaded, there was plenty
of sunlight up here, and I’d forgotten to pack any sunscreen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I left my shirt on. I lifted one of the ropes, ducked
under it, and stepped into the water.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And immediately pulled my foot back. “<i>Shit</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He laughed. “Cold?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just a bit.” I tried again, dipping my toe in. Then my
whole foot. A little at a time, I eased into the water, and by the time I was
in up to my knees, I’d adapted to the cold. After the hike to get up here, it
felt great.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After I’d waded a little deeper, I scooped some water into
my hands, ignoring the way my raw knuckles burned, and leaned down to pour it
over the back of my neck. As much as I wanted to splash it on my face, the doc
had been pretty emphatic about keeping the stitches clean and dry. Given the
microbes that could be lurking in river water…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Though I’d probably already invited those in via the cuts on
my knuckles, but whatever.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned toward him. “Man, my legs are tired already. You
wouldn’t think that hike would be that tough. It’s not even a mile.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Except it’s all up and down, up and down.” He made a
gesture like a roller coaster. “We should all be <i>glad</i> it’s not even a mile.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I laughed. “No kidding.” Legs still in the water, I sat on
one of the rocks and looked up at the falls. “Wow, this really is amazing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It is.” He turned to me. “This your first time up here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded. “I haven’t been on the island long.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yep. Just transferred here recently. How long have you been
here? On Okinawa, I mean. Not”—I gestured at the falls—“here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A few years.” He extended his hand. “Name’s Connor, by the
way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Aiden.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His hand was cool and damp from the water, but still hot
from his body heat. As we shook hands, our eyes met, and they locked, and…fuck.
Wow, he really was hot. Especially up close. Those blue eyes were unreal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I released his hand, and as we both sat back, he gave me the
oddest little smile, one that seemed caught somewhere between shy and cocky.
Before I could figure out which, he broke eye contact and busied himself
leaning over to scoop some water onto his arms. It was hard to tell, but I
thought his cheeks might’ve turned pink.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So do you come up here a lot?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Every now and then.” Connor splashed some more water onto
his arms and then leaned back against the rock. “It’s one of my favorite places
on the island.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I can see why. Where else do you like to go?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You can’t really go wrong on this rock. I’ve been to all
the castles, the outlying islands, the good snorkel spots.” He shrugged. “Just
depends on what you’re into, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you dive?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I tried.” Connor tapped just below his temple. “It bugs my
ears.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Damn.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Tell me about it. There’s some awesome places to snorkel
here. I’ll bet diving would be even better.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, I’ve never even snorkeled.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really.” I mirrored his earlier motions, leaning down and
scooping some water—holy <i>fuck</i>, that
stung my knuckles—onto my arms to cool myself off. “Any good spots?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I haven’t found a bad spot here. Though I did stop
snorkeling off Kadena Marina after I realized it’s right next to a sewage
treatment plant.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrinkled my nose. “Seriously?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He nodded. “I don’t know if they actually dump anything in
the water, and it all looks pretty clean and clear, but…no way I’m putting my
face in that water.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I don’t blame you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Other than that, though, you can pretty much pull off the
road anywhere, jump in the water, and see all kinds of cool shit. Just, you
know, watch for jellyfish.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s what I’ve heard.” I sat back against the rock and,
without thinking about it, propped my foot up on the other rock…just inches
from his leg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He glanced down, and that odd smile came back to life as he
looked at me again. There was no casually pulling my leg back and pretending it
had never happened, so I just kept it against the rock.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clearing my throat, I broke eye contact. “You had any
problems with jellyfish when you’ve snorkeled?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not the box jellyfish. Never even seen one, knock on wood.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lifted my gaze. “Are there others?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor nodded. “Buddy of mine got stung in the face by one
of the red ones. Those fuckers won’t kill you, but, man, they will ruin your
day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yep. Watch out for them. They’re red and about this big.”
He held his hands up about a football’s width apart. “Nasty fuckers.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Good to know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Silence fell between us. My foot was still on the rock next
to him. He was still fucking with my pulse just by existing. I had no idea if
he was gay, straight or just a goddamned figment of my sex-deprived
imagination, and what to say next was completely lost on me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fortunately, Connor spoke first. “Listen, um…” He paused,
gnawing his lower lip. “There’s a place not far from here, maybe an hour once
you get back to the main drag. Some of the most amazing pizza on the island.
You, um, want to grab a bite?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In spite of this unbelievable attraction, my first instinct
was to back away and quickly decline, but this wasn’t some drunk Marine trying
to coax me into a dark corner. Connor was as nonthreatening as a man could be.
And so, <i>so</i> gorgeous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I smiled. “Sure. Why not?”</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-47271654335955946942014-04-04T08:07:00.000-07:002014-04-04T08:13:14.878-07:00EXCERPT: The Best ManTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/wildes.html#best1">The Best Man</a></i> (2nd Edition)<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Format: ebook<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="Manuscript1CxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chapter
1</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Any
minute now, Craig would be here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chewing
my thumbnail and fidgeting on the couch, I stared at the front door and waited.
Less than an hour had passed since my ex-boyfriend had called to say he needed
to talk to me, but the atmosphere in my apartment had a strange emptiness about
it, as if he’d already come and gone, leaving only an echo of his presence and
whatever he’d come to say. Not unlike the night he left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
picked my water bottle up off the coffee table and took a drink, then played
with the cap, spinning it one way, then the other, then back, just to give my
hands something to do. Over and over I tried to tell myself there was no point
in getting this wound up over a conversation that hadn’t happened yet. It could
be about anything. We were still friends. We still talked and hung out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But
really, I was kidding myself. Craig could handle all but the most serious
conversations by phone, yet he’d insisted on meeting in person. And it couldn’t
wait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe
he was having problems with his girlfriend again and needed advice. At that
thought, I clenched my jaw. It shouldn’t have bothered me that my ex was with a
woman now, but it did. I guess on some strange level, the fact that he had a
girlfriend put him that much farther out of my reach. A new boyfriend left me a
little glimmer of hope that I still had a fighting chance in the future. Craig’s
relationship with her gave our split a kind of resonating permanence, an
implicit “This is how far I’ve moved on from you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Ah, the joys of being with a bisexual
man</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">.
I wondered if the girlfriend before me had felt the same way when she’d found
out about us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
sharp three-beat knock made me sit up so fast I nearly dropped my water bottle.
I recovered, set the bottle on the coffee table, and went to the door, all the
while trying to convince myself one last time that there was no reason to
worry. He just wanted to talk. It didn’t mean it was anything bad, or that this
was going to hurt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But
when I opened the door, my heart went into my throat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
look on his face did nothing to ease my nerves. It was the same apologetic
expression—eyebrows pulled together above wide eyes, lips thinned into a
grimace that was almost painful, three worried lines creasing his forehead—he’d
had when he’d come to tell me he was leaving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
stomach did a somersault, but I smiled through it and waved him in. He didn’t
look at or speak to me as he came in, and in fact shrank away from me slightly
as he moved past. It instantly made me miss the time when he couldn’t walk by
me without at least some sort of affectionate contact. I shook my head as I
pushed those thoughts back and followed him into the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
stopped and stood with his back to me, hands in his pockets, shifting his
weight. Making no move to sit. Probably not planning to stay long. Then he
turned and faced me, but scratched the back of his neck and looked at the
floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And
still the silence lingered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Finally,
I said, “You wanted to talk?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes flicked up and met mine. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” He sank onto the sofa, the
muffled squeak of leather creating a mix of relief and apprehension in my gut.
He was planning to stay for a while. Whatever he came to talk about, he didn’t
expect it to be over in a few short minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He steepled
his fingers in front of his lips and rested his elbows on his knees, brow
knitting again as he focused on my coffee table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I was
too wound up to sit, so I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the
wall. He glanced up at me, then his eyes shifted slightly to my left. His cheeks
darkening, he dropped his gaze again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m
surprised you still have that thing on the wall,” he said quietly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
looked at the painting that hung above the television. One of <i>his</i> paintings. I shrugged. “I guess I
just got used to it being there. Left it up there out of habit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes met mine and I knew he saw right through me, but he didn’t press the
issue. We’d had this conversation a hundred times before, and I’d more or less
convinced him that I would get over him when I got over him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
don’t imagine you came all the way across town to discuss my living room
décor,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
chin rested on his hands, which were now folded loosely, and he lowered his
eyes again. “No, I didn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shifted my weight slightly, “So, what—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Rebecca
and I are getting married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
couldn’t have knocked more air out of my lungs if he’d punched me in the chest.
I recovered as quickly as I could and cleared my throat. “Wow, that’s…uh. Congratulations.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Thanks.
I asked her the other night.” He laughed softly. “Still kind of weird to even
say it. Me. Getting married.” Shaking his head, he added, “Who knew?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Yeah</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. <i>Who knew</i>? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
wrung his hands. “Are you,” he paused. “Are you okay with this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig,
why wouldn’t I be?” <i>Besides the fact that
I would kill for even one more night with you.</i> “I want you to be happy.”<i> I just wish you could still be happy with
me</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He eyed
me. “You know what I mean, Jon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes,
you’re right, I do.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “And I’m fine with it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
regarded me silently for a moment. Then he stared at his hands. “There’s…” He
hesitated. “There’s one more thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This should be good</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. I
raised my eyebrows. “Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I want
you to be my best man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I was
wrong. There was still some air left for him to knock out of my lungs. “You—” I
swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “Are you serious?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes.” Craig
avoided my eyes. “Look, I know it’s an odd thing to ask, given—” He pursed his
lips and finally looked at me. “Given our history. But Jon, you’re my closest
friend. I’ll understand if you can’t, but…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What
does Rebecca think of this?” She wasn’t particularly fond of me anyway, nor did
she care for the fact that Craig and I were still close friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
shook his head. “I haven’t told her yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Don’t
you think you should mention it to her? Given that it’s her wedding too?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
wanted to talk to you about it first. See if you were even willing to do it
before I took the time to argue with her about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shifted my weight again. “So you don’t think she’ll be thrilled about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Probably
not.” He shrugged. “Not at first, anyway. You know how she is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, I
do,” I said. “But expecting her to be okay with your ex-boyfriend as your best
man? Don’t you think that’s asking a bit much?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Craig
waved a hand. “Let me deal with her. What I want to know is if you’re okay with
it. If you’re not, I’ll ask someone else, but Jon, I want you to be my best
man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chewing
my lip, I stared at the floor. Though there was very little I wouldn’t do for
Craig, I had to admit, this was pushing it. I wouldn’t miss his wedding for the
world, but I wasn’t sure I could stand beside him with Rebecca’s ring in my
pocket and pretend it wasn’t killing me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
leaned one shoulder against the wall in an effort to look as casual and relaxed
as I didn’t feel. “I’m flattered, but…” I licked my lips. “Do you need an
answer right now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No, of
course not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Have
you set a date yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Not
yet. We’re going to talk it over tonight after she gets home. Probably a few
months out, at least.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
chuckled. “Not going to rush into it, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyebrow lifted and the slight twist of his mouth made me wonder if I’d crossed
a line. “Look, I know she and I haven’t been together long—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig.”
I put my hand up. “I’m not questioning you. If you know she’s the one you want
to be with…” I shrugged. “Then I’m happy for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“But
you think I’m moving too fast with her.” It wasn’t a question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
swallowed. “There’s no way I can answer that without sounding like I’m either
patronizing you or trying to talk you out of it for my own gain.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
cocked his head. “Indulge me.” His flat, low tone sounded all too familiar. It
held the same undercurrent of annoyance that it always did when he wanted to
pick a fight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
sighed. “Craig, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Just
tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Are you humoring me or daring me</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">? I let
out a breath. <i>Oh, what the hell? What are
you going to do? Leave me?</i> “Look, I’m saying this as your friend, not your
ex-boyfriend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He said
nothing, but gestured for me to continue. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My eyes
fixed on the coffee table instead of him. “Are you sure you’re not rushing into
this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
hesitated for a split second, but that fleeting silence spoke volumes. “Yes, I
am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
looked him in the eye. “After four months?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Listen,
I know we haven’t been together long, but I know she’s the one for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig,
it took you two fucking years to figure out I <i>wasn’t</i> the one for you.” My chest tightened as the words came out
before I could stop them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
looked away, setting his jaw. “You and I both knew a long, long time ago that
we weren’t right for each other.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Speak for
yourself,” I said through my teeth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
expression was still calm, but his fingers folded so tightly that his knuckles
blanched. “So now who am I talking to? My friend, or my ex-boyfriend?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Letting
out a breath, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go there, it’s—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
know, it’s a raw nerve,” he said, his tone soft. “Which is why I’ll understand
if you don’t want—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“It’s
not that. This has nothing to do with being your best man or not.” <i>Oh, what an ironic title for an
ex-boyfriend.</i> “My feelings are what they are. But, I’m serious. Asking as
your friend, who really does want to see you happy, <i>are</i> you sure you’re not rushing into this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
rested his chin on his folded hands again. “Honestly, I’ve known from the day I
met her that this was coming.” Before I could speak, Craig stood and started
toward me. “Jon, I know it seems like I’m moving fast with her, but I know
she’s the one for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Why wasn’t I?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Then
if you’re sure about it, I’m happy for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded, but didn’t smile. “What about you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
blinked. “I just said, I’m happy for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No, I
mean, are <i>you</i> happy? Not about me,
just, in general?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
shoulders dropped and so did my gaze. “I’m getting there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That
sounds like a no.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig,
I’m fine,” I said. “Honestly. I just, I take a little more time than you do to
move past things.” I met his gaze and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring
smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He said
nothing for a long moment, but then he finally spoke. “Have you gone out? Met
anyone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ve
been out a little,” I lied. “Just haven’t met anyone worth mentioning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
slight raise of his eyebrow told me that, as always, he saw right through me.
“You know, even if you’re not ready for something serious, maybe it would do
you good to meet some new guys. Get laid. Something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
rolled my eyes. “I think I’ll manage.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m
serious, Jon, I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig.”
I put my hands up. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
voice softened. “You know I do, though.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
know. I know. But you’ve got a wedding to plan and a lot of things on your
plate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That
doesn’t change the fact that I worry about you. I want you to be happy, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then come back</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. “I
will be. I just need more time to get there than you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He went
quiet. I had a feeling he wasn’t convinced, that he was just trying to decide
whether or not to push the issue. After a moment, he said, “I didn’t realize
you were still having such a hard time with it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m
better than I was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded, but didn’t look at me. “You know I didn’t do it to hurt—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Craig.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> I put
my hands up again. “We’ve been over this. You did what you had to do, and I’ll
deal with it in my own time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Looking
at the floor, he put his hands in his jacket pockets. “If being part of the
wedding is too much, I’ll understand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It is. You don’t even know, Craig</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. But I
couldn’t stomach the idea of sending him into his marriage thinking that I was
still this torn up over him, even if I was. If I could stand up there at the
altar with him, then he would know that I was at peace with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Even if
I wasn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“If you
want me to be your best man…” I paused to wet my parched lips. “Then I will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He searched
my eyes. I very nearly reached for his arm, just to silently reassure him, but
it would be too tempting to hold on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Are
you sure?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
swallowed hard. “Yeah.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes repeated the question and my smile repeated my answer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Okay.”
He gave a sharp nod and blew out a breath. “I’ll bring it up to Rebecca
tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
chuckled. “Good luck with that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
laughed. “She’ll be fine with it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Eventually.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Right.”
He squared his shoulders, cocking his head to one side, then the other, as if
loosening a kink. “I’d better go. Traffic’s going to be a bitch if I wait much
longer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Forcing
a smile, I nodded. “Congratulations again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Thanks.”
Craig’s smile seemed only marginally more genuine than my own. We were silent
for a moment before he started toward the front door. I followed, hooking my
thumbs in the belt loops of my jeans just to give my hands something to do
besides reach for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
opened the door and started to step out, but stopped. I rested my forearm on
the doorframe, watching him, wondering what was on the tip of his tongue that
made his brow furrow like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
turned to leave and I thought he’d decided to let his thought go, but he paused
again and looked over his shoulder. “Jon, promise me something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Meeting
my eyes, he barely whispered, “You’ll at least try to make yourself happy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I was happy with—</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “I’ll
try.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
looked at me for a moment, then nodded and continued down the hall. I closed
the door before he was out of sight. He’d been to my apartment plenty of times
since we’d split, but I still couldn’t bring myself to watch him turn that
corner at the end of the hall again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
leaned against the door and released a long breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He was
absolutely right. I needed to move on. In the six months since he’d left, I
hadn’t met anyone at all. Hadn’t felt the need.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Tonight,
though, in the wake of his announcement that he was farther than ever out of my
reach, I needed to get out of the house and meet some people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I went
into the bedroom to change clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chapter
2<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Walking
through the front door of Wilde’s was like stepping into another world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Seattle
was blessed with numerous gay and gay-friendly clubs, and Wilde’s was one of
the somewhat higher brow places: Live music, top shelf liquor, a strict dress
code, low lighting everywhere except the dance floor. It was relaxed, but
swanky, with leather booths and bow-tied bartenders. The music was just loud
enough to warrant getting extra close to someone to talk, but not enough to
leave a person’s ears ringing after they left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Gulping
back my nerves, I paid the cover and checked my coat. The atmosphere here was
just subdued enough to keep me from shying away. This whole thing was
intimidating enough without blasting music and wild lighting to assault the
senses. Walking through the crowd, I couldn’t recall ever feeling quite so out
of place. So <i>lost.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A few
times, I considered backing out and heading home, but since staying here meant
not spending the evening at home pining over Craig, I convinced myself to face
an intimidating night out on the prowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">On the prowl. Christ, I don’t even know
what I’m looking for</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A knot
twisted in my gut as I headed for the bar for a little courage on the rocks. It
was entirely too soon to even think about a relationship, so if I met anyone
tonight, it was either casual sex or friendship. Glancing around at the guys
getting close on the dance floor and even closer in booths, friendship was
pretty much off the menu in a place like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I had
never been particularly promiscuous. I wasn’t against casual sex on principle,
it had just never been my thing. Craig had often ribbed me about being a serial
monogamist, and maybe he was right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But
tonight, I told myself as I took one of the available bar stools, I would just
see what happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A
bartender materialized in front of me. “What can I get you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I gave
the top shelf selections a glance to see if anything sounded good, then went
for my usual. “Jack and Coke.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded and went about mixing it as I pulled my wallet out. I took my drink and
he took the cash, and then I turned my bar stool enough to give me a wide view
of the club and its patrons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
place was crawling with attractive men, some of whom caught my eye and
exchanged smiles—even suggestive grins—with me. But I didn’t know where to
start. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Hi, I’m Jon, care for a fuck?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My name’s Jon. I’m emotionally fucked in
the head right now but wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shuddered. This was just not me. What the hell was I doing? What was I
thinking? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe this was a bad idea. Oh well. At
least I’m out of the house for once.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sighing,
I turned back around to face the bar, and my breath caught in my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Leaning
casually against the counter below the top shelf bottles was a different
bartender. Even the club’s dim light didn’t detract from his striking, pale
green eyes, and I couldn’t look away from him if I wanted to. He didn’t seem to
mind the fact that I was staring, though. After all, he was looking right at
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When I
could finally look somewhere other than his eyes, I wasn’t disappointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The tux
shirt perfectly emphasized his broad chest and shoulders, while the black
cummerbund subtly drew my attention to his narrow hips. It seemed that everyone
else on staff in this club was clean-shaven, but stubble heavily shadowed his
angular jaw. Still, he didn’t seem out of place. He had a kind of classy,
dignified air about him that let him get away with not shaving, even with a tux
shirt and bowtie. As he wiped down a rocks glass with a white towel, I noticed
then that his sleeves were unbuttoned and pushed partway up his toned forearms.
He must have had some seniority if he could show up unshaven and with his
sleeves rolled up so casually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Refill?”
He nodded toward my empty glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Uh,
yeah, how about—” I looked down at my glass, trying to remember what the hell
I’d been drinking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jack
and Coke?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“How
did you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
smiled as he set the rocks glass down and dropped some ice into it. “I saw Zach
pouring the first one. Figured you were a creature of habit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Perceptive.”
I folded my arms on the bar and leaned on them. “Anything else you figured out
about me while I wasn’t looking?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well,”
he said, pouring what looked like more than a single shot of Jack Daniels into
the glass, “I’m guessing you’re either new in town or newly single.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
eyebrows jumped. The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement and he
finished making my drink. When he set it on the bar, I started to pull a five
out of my wallet, but he held up his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“On the
house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Is the
psychic reading free, too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
laughed. “The drink’s on me. As for the psychic reading, the only charge for
that is that you might have to put up with my lack of conversation skills for a
few more minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
haven’t noticed anything lacking so far.” I lifted my glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Likewise,”
he said with a wink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
cheeks burned and a second later, so did my throat. I was right, he definitely
put more than a single shot of Jack into the drink. Just the way I liked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So,
what makes you think I’m either new in town or newly single?” I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
rested his hands on the bar, his shoulders lifting slightly as he shifted his
weight. Nodding toward the door, he said, “The ‘fish out of water’ look on your
face when you came in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shrugged. “Could just be that I’ve never been to this particular club.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
shook his head. “I see a lot of new people come through that door who have
obviously been around clubs, just not this one.” His smile turned into a cocky
grin that suddenly made my drink taste like water. “But then there’s the people
who come in looking like they’ve just arrived from another planet. And over the
years, I’ve found that most of those have either just moved here or are trying
to move on after a relationship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
raised my glass. “Very observant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So, if
it’s not too forward of me…” His eyes narrowed a bit as if he was trying to
read between the lines of what I thought was a neutral expression. “Should I be
welcoming you to the Emerald City, or buying you another drink to commiserate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
drained the last of my drink and rolled it around in my mouth as I set the
glass in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sorry
to hear it.” The amusement faded from his face as he pulled another glass out
from under the bar and filled it with ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Just
make it a Coke this time.” My head was already light, but I couldn’t tell if it
was Jack or… whatever his name was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded and topped the glass off with Coke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So if
you’re commiserating,” I said. “I’m guessing you’re recently out of one too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ooh,
yeah.” He grimaced. “Three years, and he picks up and walks away like nothing
ever happened.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ouch.”
I sipped my drink. “I’ve actually been single for a while, just didn’t feel
like meeting anyone right away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Understandable,”
he said. “It’s only been a couple of weeks for me. S.O.B. hasn’t even gotten
all of his shit out of my apartment yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You
haven’t done the ‘come and get it or I throw it out the window’ ultimatum yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
laughed, but some of the humor disappeared from his expression. “I have. I
think he just wants to make it as miserable as possible. Anything to draw it
out, even if he initiated it.” He dropped his gaze for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll
bet I can beat that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Try
me,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My ex
came by tonight to tell me he’s getting married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes widened. “How long did ago did you say you split up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Six
months.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
whistled. “He doesn’t wait around, does he? Er, sorry, no offense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“None
taken.” I put my finger on the end of my straw. “But it gets better.” Keeping
my finger on the straw, I lifted it out of my glass and put the other end on my
tongue. As I let my finger go so the Coke would come out of the straw, I
noticed his eyes were following. When I ran my tongue around the end of the
straw, his lips parted and he looked away, clearing his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
cheeks colored. “So, um, what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“He
wants me to be his best man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
bartender blinked. “You’re <i>kidding.</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maybe
we should introduce our exes.” I paused. “Well, if they were both still single,
anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
opened his mouth to speak, then glanced down the bar. “Shit, I need to take
care of some other customers.” He looked at me again. “You going to be here a
while?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I am now</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. I
smiled. “Not going anywhere.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">With a
wink that made my head spin, he stepped away to see to his other customers. It
was only when he was gone that I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was
holding. Ever since I’d turned around, since I’d first laid eyes on him, I
hadn’t drawn a proper breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
thought of the way he’d watched me with the straw and shivered. The way he’d
looked at me when I first turned around. I wasn’t imagining it, was I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As he
tended to customers a few feet away, smiling and laughing politely with them,
he cast me a quick look and his smile faded. It didn’t fade in the sense that
he was suddenly embarrassed or annoyed by my presence or the fact that I was
looking at him. Quite the contrary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes said nothing if not, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
heart pounded. I knew nothing about him beyond his job and the fact that he was
recently single. I didn’t even know his name, but I suddenly wanted to hear him
growling mine in my ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
continued that way for a while, shooting the breeze while he was between
customers. Every time he was sure that every glass and bottle on the bar had
been filled, he came right back to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">At one
point, while he filled drinks, several more bartenders appeared and a few
others left. Shift change, I guessed. When he caught sight of one of the
newcomers, his expression changed. This time, it <i>was</i> annoyance. As the other bartender approached him, they
exchanged a few brief and, by the looks of it, terse words. Then they
disappeared into the back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was
almost fifteen minutes before he came back into view, his jaw set and his
eyebrows knitted together over narrowed eyes. He kept his eyes down as he
approached me. Before I’d even said a word, he went about filling another glass
with Coke. Glancing back the way he came, he pulled a piece of paper out of his
pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My
boss is here, and he’s on the warpath today, so I can’t chat.” He put the drink
I hadn’t ordered on a napkin, slid it toward me, and tucked the piece of paper
under it. Then he met my eyes. “I’m off in an hour.” Tapping the bar beside my
drink, he said, “If you want to talk someplace quieter, I can meet you there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">With
that, he turned to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wait,”
I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
paused and came back, glancing over his shoulder and swallowing nervously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Do I
have to wait until then to find out your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
smiled. “Liam Sable. Yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jon
Beatty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll
see you in an hour.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpLast" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-26311181435787271922014-04-04T08:04:00.001-07:002014-04-04T08:04:27.617-07:00EXCERPT: GuardedTitle: Guarded<br />
Author: Cat Grant, L.A. Witt<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
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Excerpt:<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="CH01"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Chapter One</span></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Jordan<o:p></o:p></div>
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It all started the night that cabbie dropped us off at the
wrong fucking bar. I could’ve sworn Jase, our new security guy, told the driver
to take us to Britt’s, but instead we ended up in front of a dive called
Blake’s that had a line trailing out the door and dance music blaring so loud
the sidewalk vibrated. The half-assed headache over my right eye started
throbbing to the same fucking beat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Awesome.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase ran after the cab, but the driver was already speeding
away with our money, including a healthy tip for driving us here from the
stadium. “Fuck,” Jase muttered, pulling out his phone. “Sorry, Jordan. Hang
tight and I’ll call us another cab, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Curious glances flicked in our direction. I yanked up the hood
on my jacket and hunched down, hands in my pockets. I was pretty good at making
myself inconspicuous, but Jase should’ve known better than to call me by name
in public. All I wanted was a quiet drink in a place where no one would bother
me, not another fucking mob screaming, “Oh my God, it’s Jordan Kane!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Daniel said. “You can get a drink
there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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From the wet bar in my suite, where I’d been cooped up for the
past day and a half. Cabin fever hit hard on long tours, going from the bus to
another nondescript hotel, from there to the venue, then back on the bus again.
Was getting out for some fresh air like a regular human being too fucking much
to ask?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I shifted from foot to foot, my Nikes crunching on damp
pavement, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. We’d had a great show tonight,
amazing energy from a sold out house, but as usual, it took me a while to wind
down. If we went back to the hotel now, I’d drink myself into a stupor and have
to be poured into the bus tomorrow morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Milo hovered at my elbow, a bald, burly wall of reassurance. He
leaned in close as I whispered, “Go see what’s taking Jase so long.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“So you’re not talking to me?” Daniel said, propping himself
against a street sign while he lit up. My breath froze, until I saw it was a
Marlboro. “Still pissed about the other night?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Same argument, different day. But after what happened in
Austin, no way was I letting him out of my sight. “Not now,” I snapped as Milo
and Jase walked back up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“The quickest we can get a cab down here’s about forty-five
minutes,” Jase said. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Jesus, did he think I was going
to fire him on the spot? <o:p></o:p></div>
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“How far is it to Britt’s on foot?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase punched a few buttons on his phone. “Um, about five and a
half miles.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Fuck</i>. I eyeballed the
dive’s front door. At least there wasn’t much of a line anymore. “Let’s go grab
a beer while we wait.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Daniel stamped out his smoke with a snort and headed for the
door. I gave Milo the usual “keep your eye on him” look and followed, Jase
bringing up the rear. The bouncer waved us through without so much as a second
look.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The place was jam-packed, the bass-heavy sound system shaking
the walls. Six deep around the bar, and not a single fucking table free. A sign
over a door on the far side of the room read, “Patio.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Get me a pint of whatever they’ve got on draft and meet me
outside,” I shouted into Jase’s ear, then started pushing through the crowd. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The patio was pretty crowded too, but thankfully the music
wasn’t so loud out here. Only a handful of postage stamp sized tables, all
occupied. I ventured to the edge of the patio—well, okay, more like the lip of
the parking lot—fished in my pocket for a smoke, then tilted my head back to
look at the sky. Dark, velvety blue dotted with tiny lights. We’d played an
outdoor theater tonight, but the stage kliegs were so bright I couldn’t see
past the first few rows. How many cities had we blitzed through these last few
weeks, stopping just long enough to play a show or two? No time to relax and
enjoy beautiful nights like this. Hell, no time to relax, period. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’d just stamped out my butt when I saw Jase making his way
over to me. “Sorry it took so long,” he said, handing me one of the pint
glasses he was holding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Thanks.” I took a swig, glancing up at the sky again. The
heavy beat in my pulse was slowing, post-show drop setting in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Want me to leave you alone?” Jase said. “Milo told me to give
you your space, so I can go stand over there—”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re fine where you are.” I flicked a glance at him. He
still looked jittery as hell. “I’m not gonna fire you over the cab thing, okay?
It’s not your fault the guy was an asshole.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Oh. Thanks.” The nervous glint in his eyes didn’t fade,
though. What else did I expect? He’d only been with the tour a few weeks. I
could just imagine the stories the crew had told him about me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We drank our beers in silence, trading furtive glances. I’d
noticed him looking at me like that before, but I didn’t think it meant—well,
what else could it mean? Sure, he wanted me. Everybody did, until they found
out what wanting me entailed, then they couldn’t run for the fucking door fast
enough.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At last my glass was empty. “Want another?” Jase asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I shook my head and handed him my glass. “I’m good.” I’d drunk
it fast, and now that sweet liquid-warm buzz started creeping through me. One
beer, so it wouldn’t last long—just long enough, hopefully, to get back to the
hotel and collapse.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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If I didn’t end up collapsing right here. Leaning against the
concrete wall, I let my eyes drift shut. <i>Shit</i>.
I was more tired than I thought. One drink didn’t normally affect me like this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase’s hand landed tentatively on my shoulder. It felt
good—warm and strong, with just enough of a grip to set things stirring below
my belt. <i>Fuck. Not here</i>. I hastily
zipped up my hoodie. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You okay?” he whispered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Where’d that sexy rumble in his voice come from? “Fine. Just
give me a minute.” I blinked hard, trying to banish the ghosts from the
flickering fluorescent lamp overhead. No one out here was paying us any
attention, except this one guy squinting at me from a few feet away.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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He started toward us, until Jase pulled a pack of smokes from
his pocket and offered me one. He leaned in as we both lit up, close enough
feel the warm puff of his breath over my skin—God, was he doing that on
purpose?—subtly but effectively putting himself between me and Mr. Curious. I
peered over Jase’s broad shoulder as the guy halted in his tracks, his
expression morphing from, “Is that really…?” to “Nah, can’t be.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I exhaled a long breath that wasn’t all smoke. “Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No problem.” His lush lips quirked up in a shaky smile.
“That’s what you pay me for, right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’d never seen him this close before. Looked about thirty,
though from a distance he could pass for younger—a few years past pretty either
way. Something behind those clear green eyes told me he’d seen a lot—hardly a
shocker. Nobody stayed innocent very long in this business.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That gaze sent a hot flush creeping up the back of my neck.
Time to get this convo back on a more professional footing. “You getting along
okay?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Um, yeah.” Why was it so hard to look me in the eye? He’d
never had trouble before. ‘Course, he’d never flirted with me like this before
either. “Milo’s showing me the ropes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This your first tour?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“As part of a road crew? Yeah.” He zipped up his jacket. “I did
a couple of regional tours with my old band.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Which didn’t surprise me either. Most roadies were musicians
too. In fact, pretty much all the good ones were. “What happened?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Same old song—we broke up, I needed a job, so... here I am.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, welcome aboard.” Weird thing to say after all this time,
but I tried to keep the crew at arm’s length. Sure, they all signed
confidentiality agreements, but that didn’t stop a couple of slackers I’d
shit-canned from spilling stuff to the tabloids. Compared to them, Jase was a
dream employee. He showed up on time, never complained about the crazy hours or
balked at anything I asked him to do. He kept the nutjobs away, brought me food
when I was starving backstage before a show, and made sure I had quiet time when
I needed it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’d been in this business so long, I could tell within thirty
seconds if someone was trying to play me. Jase didn’t give me that kind of
vibe. He’d never hit me up for any special favors—or hell, even for time off. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I sucked down another lungful of smoke, then, “What was the
name of your band?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh, um…” His face went red. “You’ve never heard of us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Try me. I listen to a lot of stuff.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ever heard ‘Day of the Dead’ by Flogging for Coffee?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Holy shit, that was <i>you</i>?”
I’d downloaded their EP a while ago, on one of those long nights in the back of
the bus when my brain wouldn’t shut up. “Impressive debut, man. Why’d you guys
break up?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Our bass player’s girlfriend got pregnant, and he didn’t want
to leave her to go back on tour. And there was some... well, bad blood between
me and the drummer.” He shrugged, fidgeted. “The usual stuff, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s a fucking shame. I liked your sound.” Sort of punk,
sort of metal, with a dash of alternative. Sort of what we sounded like back in
the day. “You record it yourselves?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The shrill buzz of his phone cut in before he could answer.
“H’lo? Okay, we’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up. “Cab’s here. I’ll text
Milo to meet us up front.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase walked ahead of me, elbowing our way through the crowd. I
looked around for Milo and Daniel once we got inside, but I didn’t see them. I
almost lost Jase when some half-drunk asshole lurched between us. Jase shoved
the guy away, then offered me his arm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Warm, solid muscles bunched and flexed under my fingers. I
didn’t want to let go, even after we’d exited the club. The cab was waiting at
the curb, but still no sign of Milo or Daniel.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase checked his phone. “Milo hasn’t texted me back. Get in the
cab. I’ll go find them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Jase, don’t—” Too late. He’d already dashed back in. And here
came that familiar old knot of anxiety twisting in my gut. I hated having to go
out in public with bodyguards. Wasn’t so long ago—four, five years—when I could
walk down the street without getting mobbed. Now one lousy drink in a public
place required more planning than storming fucking Omaha Beach.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Leaning against the cab, I lit up another cigarette. The
bouncer started eyeing me, so I turned around. I’d just inhaled my second puff
when this wave of sound rose up behind me, a roar of voices that nearly drowned
out the <i>thump-thump</i> of the shitty
dance music—<o:p></o:p></div>
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And Milo, Jase and Daniel burst through the door like it’d spat
them out, a flood of people on their heels. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Get in! Get in!” Milo screamed, shoving me and Daniel into the
backseat. He and Jase piled in behind us. “Hit the gas!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Didn’t need to tell the cabbie twice—he punched it so hard he
flung us against the seat cushions. The mob shrank in the view from the rear
window, but that didn’t stop my heart from thrashing in my chest.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Th-the fuck?” My gaze flicked from Daniel to Milo. “What
happened?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Mr. Wonderful here started chatting up some girl, and she
recognized him.” Milo scowled, wiping at a cut on his forehead. He had a red
mark on his cheekbone that’d be a gorgeous shiner by tomorrow. “She told her
friends, and they told everyone else.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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And from Daniel’s smug expression, he’d no doubt done it just
to fuck with me. I stared out the window, watching flat concrete and a parade
of high rises zip by, fists curling and uncurling in my lap. <i>Not in front of the cabbie. Last thing you
need is for this to show up in the papers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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The driver dropped us off at our hotel’s back entrance. Milo
paid the guy and we headed inside. The elevator doors slid open the second I
touched the call button. I waited until it started moving, then I hit “stop”
and shoved Daniel against the wall. “What the hell did you think you were doing
back there? You nearly started a fucking riot!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Aw, c’mon, I was just trying to have some fun. You remember
what that’s like, huh?” His jittery, bloodshot gaze locked on Milo and Jase,
like he was expecting them to come to his rescue. “Can we go upstairs? I’m
fucking tired.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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I didn’t smell booze on his breath, and for a change he seemed
fairly lucid. But from the way he was shaking—and sweating like he’d just run a
fucking marathon—he had to be high on something. God, not meth again. Anything
but that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I hit the “start” button, my heart dropping down the fucking
elevator shaft. I couldn’t face this, not tonight. Couldn’t entertain the
prospect of another tour cut short because Daniel needed to go back to rehab.
The thought simply wouldn’t fit in my mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We had the entire top floor to ourselves, two suites on
opposite sides of the hallway. Daniel opened his door and disappeared inside.
Milo shot me a “What d’you want me to do?” look.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t let him out of your sight,” I said. “Sit on him if you
have to.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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A familiar resigned sigh. “Whatever you say, boss.” Milo nodded
at me and Jase and went inside, the door clicking shut behind him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Which left me standing here so fucking exhausted I wasn’t sure
I could make the two lousy steps to my own suite.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jase’s hand slid under my elbow. “Give me your card.” I
wrestled it out of my pocket and handed it over. Jase unlocked the door,
letting it swing open. “There you go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Thanks.” I stepped inside, glancing around the living room.
Comfortable—elegantly so, in fact—but nondescript. I’d spent too many long,
lonely nights on tour in rooms like this, waking up the next morning with no
fucking clue what city I was in. I didn’t usually invite employees inside...
well, except when I did. Sometimes the nights got too long and lonely. Too
quiet. “I’m gonna have another drink. Care to join me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I could see the wheels turning in his head. Say yes, and confirm
the reason he still couldn’t meet my gaze? Or refuse, and risk offending the
boss?<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Um, yeah,” he said finally. “Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I went over to the bar and poured us single Scotches while Jase
ventured into the living room. He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeballing
the cream-colored couch like he was afraid he’d get something on it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sit wherever you want,” I said, handing him his drink. I
waited for him to choose a spot, then sank down close enough to him to touch if
we wanted to, but far enough that he hopefully wouldn’t feel like I was trying
to crowd him. “So,” I went on, picking up on our previous conversation, “did
you record that EP yourselves?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He chuckled. “Kinda obvious from the shitty sound quality,
huh?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You should’ve heard our early demos. Sounded like we recorded
‘em in a fucking bathroom.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“But you graduated to a world-class studio after you signed
with Millennium Records.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “No one in their
right mind would’ve ever signed us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re lucky. Wish I had a time machine so I could go back
five years and un-sign our contract.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I thought everybody in this business wanted a record deal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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That’s what I’d wanted too, before I knew better. “If you don’t
mind letting the corporate overlords rob you blind, have at it. I’d rather make
music.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Is that why you’re always touring?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Aside from the money issue, yeah. Nothing like getting in
front of an audience to remind you why you’re alive.” Even now, just thinking
about performing sent adrenaline surging through my veins. No matter how sick
or exhausted I got on the road, seeing that crowd out there waiting never
failed to get me pumped. “The kicker is, I love playing so much, I’d do it for
free. But don’t tell anyone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We both laughed. Jase slumped against the cushions, resting his
glass on his chest. I watched, half-mesmerized, as it rose and fell with every
breath he took. “Can I, um... ask you a personal question?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I instinctively stiffened, then said, “Go ahead.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“How come you’ve never recorded ‘Forth Into Light’?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not what I expected, but it still made me smile. “That’s not
very personal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sure it is. You play it in your acoustic set practically every
night, and you change the lyrics every time. Is it one of those songs that
never stops evolving, or”—he waved his hand around, like he was trying to pluck
the right words out of the air—“is it too close to your heart to let go of?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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All this insight from a guy who’d been silently watching my
back the past few weeks. The man was a philosopher, and I hadn’t a fucking clue.
“It’s a work in progress. I’ve been toying with it for a couple of years now. I
still can’t get the bridge or the last verse right.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Takes that long, huh?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Sometimes.” But there was another reason too. “It’s my
favorite of all the songs I’ve written. I can’t... no, I won’t let Millennium
turn it into a fucking product.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“It’s my favorite too,” Jase said softly. A jolt of pure
lightning jagged through me as his fingers closed over mine. Strong, supple
fingers with tiny hard calluses at the tips—the mark of a guitarist. A damn
good one, too—those wailing riffs on his EP nearly scorched my eardrums. He set
down his drink and looked at me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>Bad idea. He’s an
employee, for Christ’s sake. Laugh it off and show him the door.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>Or—oh, fuck it.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I leaned closer, sliding my hands over his shirt and the warm,
firm muscles rippling underneath. The pulse in his throat thrummed, his stubble
prickling my fingertips. And God, that mouth, those lips, parting just for me—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Something buzzed, vibrating against my hip.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
My fucking <i>phone.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
With a call from Milo flashing on the display.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I hit the ‘answer’ button. “<i>What</i>?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Jordan, you’ve gotta believe me, I only left the room for a
couple minutes. I thought Daniel was asleep, so—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“What’re you talking about?” But my plummeting stomach already
knew. I only ever heard that scared, frantic tone in Milo’s voice when
something truly heinous hit the fan. “Is he—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Gone. He locked me in the bedroom and took off. I called hotel
security, but…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
They wouldn’t find him. Daniel’d had plenty of practice giving
security the slip. He’d be back when he ran out of money, coked to the fucking
gills and with half the city’s police force gunning for him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
No, not again. Not if I had anything to say about it.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="CH02"><o:p></o:p></a></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="Style9" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<b>Chapter Two</b><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="Style9" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style8">
Jase<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style8">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Fucking idiot,” Jordan muttered, and started for the door.
“Daniel’s gone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I grabbed his arm before he could get past me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
He stopped, blinking. “What the—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You stay here.” I loosened my grip but didn’t let go. “I’ll
find him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan shook his head and pulled away. “I know him. <i>I’ll</i> find him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“And everyone in the city knows who you are.” I locked eyes
with him. “Guy like him won’t be hard to find. He’s a junkie.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Fury flashed in his eyes. His lips peeled back across his teeth
as he snarled, “You have no idea what—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You want me to go find him?” I snapped. “Or do you want to
argue about whether he qualifies as a junkie?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan broke eye contact, and his shoulders slumped a little as
if I’d just hurt him. Maybe I had. Those two had been friends since the dawn of
time, and regardless of what it did to their music career, it had to be hell
watching Daniel slowly self-destruct.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You’re too easy to recognize,” I said gently. “No one knows
who I am.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Jordan.” When he met my eyes, I
said, “I’ll find him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Breaking eye contact again, he nodded. “All right. Go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
There’d be time to pick up where we’d left off—had I <i>really</i> made a move on Jordan Kane?—and
maybe figure out what the fuck we’d been doing, but priority one right now was
Daniel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan gave me his room key so I’d be able to make it up to the
penthouse when I came back. Without a word, he watched me go, and as soon as
the elevator doors had closed behind me, my mind shifted to the task at hand.
Though I was and always would be a musician, I’d also done time in the
military, which was what had led me into private security after the band fell
apart. When shit happened, that training kicked in, and I was on autopilot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
All the way down the tall building, I considered every
possibility. Daniel had been high when we’d left the bar, but he’d been lucid.
No doubt he’d gone off to score another hit. Money wasn’t an object, so he
wouldn’t have to risk whatever cheap shit he could get his hands on out on the
street, and in an unfamiliar town with no connections—I assumed—he’d take the
easiest route. That is, find a place where similar-minded people congregated,
and his drug du jour would be easy to acquire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Which meant I needed to find someone who knew where those
people congregated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
In the lobby, I went to the front desk. “I’m looking for my
friend. He just left. Did you see him leave? Blond, maybe yay tall”—I held my
hand up around my chin—“with a goatee? Leather—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You just missed him.” The desk clerk gestured at the entrance.
“He took a cab maybe five minutes ago.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“And I don’t suppose you heard him say where he was going?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
She shook her head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Shit,” I said under my breath. “All right, thanks.” I went
outside and looked around. There were several cabs parked in front of the club
across the street—the one Jordan hadn’t dared show his face in if he wanted to
sleep in this place tonight—and just my luck, there was also a cop car cruising
down the street.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I stepped up to the curb and flagged down the patrol vehicle.
When the officer stopped and rolled down the passenger window, I rested a hand
on the door and showed my ID from the security agency with the other. “I’m
trying to track down a buddy of mine, and I think he’s going to try to score
some blow. Any idea where he might go?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The cop scrutinized my ID for a moment. “Your buddy got a
preference? Coke? Meth?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“I’m not a hundred percent sure what his thing is right now.
He’s been into both. If I had to guess, probably…” I hesitated. “Probably
meth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The cop nodded. He reached across the passenger seat and opened
the door. “Get in. I’ll drop you off a block or so away from the club.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Thanks.” I got in, and he drove me into one of the sleazier
parts of town. One of those graffiti-covered places where even I didn’t like
walking alone, with or without the forty-five I kept under my jacket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The cop pulled up next to the curb in front of a dry cleaner
that had probably been closed since the 1970s. As the car came to a stop, he
said, “There’s a club about one block that way.” He gestured down the road.
“Shitty place, but if he wants a quick score in this town, that’s where he’ll
find it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Great. Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You’re welcome. Good luck.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I got out of the car and headed toward the club. This was
definitely the part of the city where someone would find cheap and easy blow.
And it was a damned good thing Jordan hadn’t come out here. Even a junkie would
recognize him, and if someone caught a picture of him in a place like that, all
the rumors would start up again. The tabloids had finally given up their
insistence that he was a closeted cokehead about a year ago, and they didn’t
need anything to reignite that bullshit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I gritted my teeth just thinking about that, and walked a
little faster. I’d seen the tabloids well before I’d gotten this job, and they
hadn’t really registered either way. But now Jordan was my responsibility.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
And as I ran the tip of my tongue across my lower lip,
searching for just a hint of that short-lived kiss from earlier, I tried to
convince myself he was <i>only</i> my
responsibility. Not my lover. Not my friend. My boss and my responsibility.
Nothing more. As for the near-kiss? Well, I’d been the closest warm body after
a stressful evening, and he’d probably fire me tomorrow for making a pass at
him anyway. Not that he’d exactly objected to it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Not that <i>any</i> of that
mattered if I didn’t come back to the penthouse with Daniel. Jordan’s temper was legendary, and from what
I’d heard, he wasn’t above firing everyone within earshot if someone pushed him
far enough. More often than not, that someone was Daniel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I stopped in front of the club. The cop was right. Between the
passed out drunks on the sidewalk, the vomit in the gutter, and some all too
familiar scents in the air, this was probably little more than a crackhouse
with a deejay. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I tugged at my jacket to make extra certain my weapon was
concealed, and then headed in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
A huge bouncer stood in front of the door. “Cover’s fifteen.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Shit. I had no cash.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I gestured for the guy to lean in so he could hear me over the
music. “Listen, I’m not here to party. I need to find someone before he gets
into trouble.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The bouncer shook his head and didn’t move. “Can’t help you,
man. Still gotta pay the cover.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I glared up at him. “You can let me in, or you can let the cops
in.” I held up my cell phone. “Your call.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
His lips tightened. Then he stood aside. “Ten minutes. You stay
in there a second longer, I’m coming in to—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I was already through the door and didn’t hear the end of the
threat. Whatever. Ten minutes, half hour, however long it took, I wasn’t
leaving here without Daniel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I put in some earplugs just like I always did at the shows, and
continued through the club. Though I was used to bright lights and loud music,
I wasn’t usually this wound up and I definitely wasn’t usually trying to find
someone in all the chaos. The flickering lights fucked with my eyes, and the
thumping bass smacked the insides of my skull as I searched for Daniel in the
crowd.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Faces came in and out of focus. Male. Female. They all blurred
together, the lights and movement making it impossible to tell one from the
next. Panic simmered beneath my skin—what if I couldn’t find him? Jordan hadn’t
fired me over the cab incident, but I doubted he’d be so forgiving if I came
back without his best friend in tow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The “song” blasting through the speakers changed. The new
rhythm jarred me, confusing both my thoughts and my pulse. Everyone moved in
time with this one, and the lights changed color, drenching people in pink and
purple instead of blue and green. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>Get it together, Jase</i>.
I was used to environments like this, damn it. But being lost in this crowd and
trying to find someone in it were two entirely different things. And there was
that fear in the back of my mind that this wasn’t the right place. That he was
in a back alley somewhere, surreptitiously swapping cash for powder. Or that
he’d found some shady backwoods motel and was already wasted. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
No, this was the place. It had to be. This was Daniel’s scene.
Music, drugs, flashing lights, women—this was the flame for a moth like him.
This was his fucking bonfire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Shouldering my way through the crowd, I edged toward the
hallway between the two bars. If any transactions went on here, they were
probably—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>There</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Propped up by a wall and two barely dressed girls, his
distinctive leather jacket gave him away. Places like this were too hot for
jackets like that, but the huge embroidered No Rules insignia on the back got
him the attention he craved as much as the dope.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Relieved that I’d found him and worried sick that I was a
little too late, I worked my way toward him. He shifted his weight, and nearly
collapsed, grabbing onto one of the girls and laughing hysterically. God, he
was all kinds of fucked up. He’d been
high when he’d left, but now, he was an overdose waiting to happen. The sweat
on his forehead gleamed in the flickering lights, and his hair was visibly
damp. His gestures were big and imprecise, nearly knocking a Solo cup out of
one girl’s hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
When I finally made it through the crowd, I grabbed his arm and
pried it off the brunette’s waist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Excuse you,” she snapped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“It’s time for him to go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Daniel’s head lolled toward me, and when he looked up at me, he
grinned deliriously. “Hey, Greg. You made it.” He gestured at the girls. “Tell
‘em I ain’t lying ‘bout who I am.” Definitely wasted—he didn’t even know who I
was. Hell, he probably didn’t know who <i>he</i>
was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Yeah, yeah.” I put my arm around his waist. “Party’s over.
Let’s get out of here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Hey, wait!” One of the girls glared at me. “We were talking to
him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Hope you enjoyed it,” I grumbled. “Come on, let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Daniel slumped against me. He tried feebly to fight me, but I
was stronger than him even when he wasn’t fucked up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The other girl staggered a little and grabbed her friend for
balance. “So is it true he’s Daniel Barrett? Do you know Jordan Kane?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“No.” I adjusted Daniel’s arm around my shoulders. “He’s just
too fucked up to know who he is.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
They both pouted and sauntered back into the crowd.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You sumbitch.” He tried and failed to push me off him. “I was
going to—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The music drowned him out, and I wasn’t listening to him
anyway. Whatever he said, it was the drugs talking, and I didn’t want to hear
it, so I just focused on dragging his ass through the thick crowd toward the
front door. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Outside, ignoring both him and the bouncer—who insisted I’d
overstayed my ten minutes—I hauled Daniel down the road to one of the main
thoroughfares. There, I flagged down a
cab and dumped him unceremoniously into the backseat. He mumbled something and
tried to fight me, but he was high and I had a good thirty pounds on him, so he
didn’t win.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I directed the driver to the hotel as I took out my phone. The
driver muttered an affirmative and pulled into the road.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I texted Jordan: <i>On our
way back</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Hopefully that was enough to calm him down. Though once he saw
Daniel, he’d probably flip out again. Couldn’t say I blamed him. A musician’s
career was precarious enough without a junkie on board. People had been after
Jordan for years to quietly replace Daniel and move on, but he refused. The
band was Daniel’s life just like it was Jordan’s, and he wasn’t going to take
that from him. <i>At this rate, he might strangle him, though… </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
My phone buzzed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>How is he?</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Daniel slurred something I didn’t understand, and slumped
against the door. His breathing was still fairly even, though he was delirious
and sweating profusely. He looked a little pale too. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Hey, man,” the cabbie said. “He okay?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I nodded, eyes still fixed on Daniel. “He’ll be fine. Just
needs to sleep it off.” <i>I hope</i>. With
anyone else, I’d have gone straight to the hospital just to be sure.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I finally messaged Jordan back, <i>High as a kite, but I think he’s okay</i>. After a moment, I added, <i>Should I take him to get checked out?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
My phone stayed silent for almost a minute. Then, <i>Is he lucid?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I looked at Daniel. His eyes were open, if a bit glassy, and he
stared out the window. “Hey, Daniel.” When he turned his head toward me, I
said, “How’re you feeling?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
His glassy-eyed gaze turned into a glare. Facing out the window
again, he muttered, “Fuck you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>He’s lucid</i>, I wrote
back. <i>Sort of.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>Bring him home. I’ll have
Milo keep an eye on him</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>Will do</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
As the cab took us from the shitty part of town to a slightly
safer-looking area, I relaxed a little more about Daniel’s condition. The less
I had to worry about him, the more my thoughts drifted back to the moment
before Jordan’s phone had come to life and killed the mood.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
We’d stayed rigidly professional prior to tonight. I was the
bodyguard, he was the client, and that was that, no matter how much I’d admired
him as a musician and lusted after him as a man prior to getting this gig. I
had no idea what I’d been thinking tonight. Maybe I was just relieved he hadn’t
lost his shit over the bar mix-up, or maybe I’d just let myself get carried
away because I was suddenly behind closed doors with him even though it was
hardly the first time we’d been alone like that. Or I thought I might have a
shot since it wasn’t exactly below Jordan to sleep with men on his payroll.
Some might’ve even called it a habit. One that didn’t usually bode well for
continued employment by his paramours. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Fuck if I knew what had possessed me to do it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
But I’d made a move, and then…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jesus Christ.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Did Jordan Kane really try to kiss me? Really? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
And how far would it have gone if his phone hadn’t suddenly interrupted
us? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
If the rumors about Jordan were true, we’d have gone far.
Insanely far. The odd ex-lover had made comments alluding to the man being
insatiable and incredibly kinky. They said he liked pain. An ex-girlfriend of
his had spilled to a tabloid that he liked having her choke him in bed. Not
just a little roughness involving a hand on the throat either—he wanted to be
choked until he blacked out. She claimed it freaked her out, but she’d also
stayed with him for two and a half years, and from what she said, this had
started early in their relationship. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
<i>If it freaked you out
that much, sweetheart, I don’t think you’d have stuck around</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Much as it creeped me out that the gossip rags insisted on
publishing that kind of thing about people, I couldn’t deny I’d been intrigued
by that article. By what it might be like to be the one with my hands around
Jordan’s neck. Even now, I couldn’t help closing my fingers into tight fists
just thinking about that. I’d been hot for Jordan for years, long before I’d met
him or started working for him, and knowing he was as kinky as I was drove me <i>insane</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
God, I could only imagine what we’d have been doing right then
if I hadn’t had to dart out into the night and chase down…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
My gaze slid toward Daniel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Oblivious to me or my <i>you
cock-blocking son of a bitch</i> thoughts, he murmured something, but then he
was quiet. His eyes were closed, and he still slumped against the door, face
pressed against the glass. Whatever he was on, he must’ve been coming down off
the high. At least he wouldn’t fight me once we got back to the hotel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The hotel, which was now in sight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I texted Jordan: <i>Just
getting to the hotel. Be there shortly</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The cabbie stopped, and after I’d paid him—thank God he took
plastic—I dragged Daniel out onto the pavement. He wasn’t fighting me,
fortunately, but his legs were almost useless. Arm slung over my shoulders, the
man was dead weight against my side as I led him into the lobby.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
The desk clerk did a double take, eyes wide. “Is he all right?
Do you—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“He’s fine.” I forced a smile. “Just partied too hard. He’ll
feel like shit in the morning, but he’ll be fine.” <i>I hope</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
She relaxed a little, but still watched us with a concerned
expression as we headed toward the elevator.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Inside the elevator, I pressed Daniel against the wall with my
hip so he wouldn’t fall, and dug the card key out of my pocket. I put it into
the reader, and when the light turned green, pressed the button for the
penthouse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
As the elevator lurched upward, I pocketed the key and adjusted
Daniel for the twelfth time so he’d stay upright. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan was waiting when the elevator doors opened. Given that
legendary temper—he wasn’t quite a diva, but definitely a force to be reckoned
with when someone crossed him—I fully expected him to rip into Daniel the
second he saw us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
He didn’t, though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
He stood off to the side, arms folded loosely over his T-shirt,
expression blank as he watched Milo and me escort—more like drag—Daniel to
their suite. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Once we were through the door, Milo took over, letting Daniel
hang on him. Unlike me, Milo was quite a bit smaller than the drugged-up
guitarist, and struggled under his weight, but before I could step in and help
again, he managed to get Daniel to the huge sofa. With a groan—whose, I had no
idea—they both dropped onto the cushions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Milo stood, straightening his shirt while Daniel melted across
the couch. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Is he going to be okay?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“He’ll be fine.” Jordan glanced at me, but then returned his
gaze to his semiconscious friend. “As long as he doesn’t try to get out and
score another hit, he’ll just sleep it off and be fine tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Milo said to Jordan. “He’s not going
anywhere.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan nodded, gaze still fixed on Daniel. “I don’t think he’s
going anywhere any time soon. But, yeah, don’t let him out of your sight.” He
made a tired, almost dismissive gesture at his wasted friend. “He can come out
of that and be ready to go again in no time flat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Milo sighed. “Believe me, I know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I glanced back and forth between them as they silently watched
Daniel. I had more experience with junkies than I cared to think about, and
knew all too well what it felt like to be as exhausted as Milo and Jordan
looked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
To Milo, Jordan said, “If you need a hand with him, you know
where to find me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“I’ll manage.” Milo was looking at Daniel. “Now that he’s had
his fix, he’ll probably just sleep.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Yeah, probably.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Milo turned to Jordan. “Get some sleep, man. I’ve got this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Any other night, I’d have expected Jordan to insist on sticking
around, but his shoulders and eyelids seemed to get heavier by the second.
Nodding, he said, “All right. Call or bang on the door if you need something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Will do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan and I left the suite and stepped out into the hall. On
his way across to his own suite, he released a long breath. Just pulling the
card key out of his pocket seemed to take everything he had. The man had been
nothing but barely contained energy earlier, but now he looked like he was
ready to collapse under his own weight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
At the door, he faced me. “Thank you, Jase. I don’t know how
the hell you found him, but…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“Don’t worry about it.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I should
let you sleep. I’ll, uh”—I gestured at the elevator—“head down to my room.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
“You don’t have to leave.” He came closer. “I was, um, kind of
hoping you’d stay, actually.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
That kiss seemed like it had happened years ago instead of
earlier this evening, but now it felt fresh on my lips, tingling like he’d just
pulled back. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
I gulped. “Even after, uh…” I waved a hand toward Milo and
Daniel’s room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Jordan exhaled. “<i>Especially</i>
after all that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
And before I could form another coherent thought, he kissed me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Style9">
<br /></div>
<div class="Style9">
Again.</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-27040783720566857402014-04-04T08:00:00.002-07:002014-04-04T08:00:51.348-07:00EXCERPT: Take It OffTitle: Take It Off<br />
Author: Aleksandr Voinov, L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Format: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan was bored.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
At least business had been steadier lately at Market
Garden, ever since the Christmas lull had ended. Apparently the wealthy elite
had placated all the annual demands for gifts and family time, and could now
spare money and evenings for expensive rentboys. Great for the wallet, but as
far as Tristan was concerned, the only thing worse than no john was the same
john every bloody night. Well, not the exact same guy. Just an endless stream
of clones coming through the black curtain in search of a night’s
entertainment. Every one of them wanted the same thing, and they all grinned
and smirked like they were the first mugs ever to ask a rentboy to suck a cock
or bend over. Yawn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I could use a refill.” Jared held up his empty glass.
“You?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan looked into his own glass and realised he was
almost to the bottom. “Sure. I’ll pick up the next one.” The drinks were free,
but he and Jared took turns fighting the crowd to the bar for refills.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Sounds good.” Jared slid out of the booth and headed for
the bar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan watched him, and couldn’t help grinning. There was
a sexy little strut in Jared’s step these days. Ever since the two of them had
started working together and double-teaming johns, Jared had gained some
much-needed confidence, and it showed. God, but he was both cute and
mouth-watering, and that gorgeous little arse in those tight leather trousers
was icing on the cake. He even flirted shamelessly with Raoul and the other
bartenders now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Johns and rentboys alike glanced at Jared, checking out his
lithe body in all that gorgeous, tight leather. As Tristan watched them watch
Jared, both pride and a hint of jealousy swelled in his chest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Look all you want, lads. I get
to fuck him.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan shivered at the thought. Even if it was only for
the sake of performing for their johns and making a few hundred quid, he
enjoyed the hell out of being with Jared. With a body like that and a mouth
that talented, who wouldn’t? Even if they didn’t know Jared was also sweet,
funny, smart . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared came back a moment later, drinks in hand, and slid
into the booth beside Tristan.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thanks,” Tristan said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Don’t mention it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan slid his hand over Jared’s leather-clad thigh under
the table in their shadowy booth. At least things had been more interesting
since they’d started working together. Fucking a john while Jared watched, or—even
better—fucking Jared while the john watched, that kept his interest. Most of
the time, anyway. Lately, even that was getting repetitive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Or rather, frustrating. They had to concentrate on pleasing
their paying clients, and those clients nearly always wanted to get involved in
more ways than just sitting back and watching, which meant Tristan never could
focus exclusively on Jared. The more they did this, the more he wanted to do
exactly that. What he wouldn’t have given to get Jared alone for a little
while, away from the distraction and interference of the guys who kept their
wallets nice and fat. The uptight kid had relaxed a lot recently. He’d been
inching out of his shell ever since they’d partnered up, and Tristan wanted to
know what else Jared had up his sleeve.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Except the more Jared came into his own, the less
interested he seemed in Tristan. Lately, it’d been strictly business for him. A
performance he could have put on with any other rentboy. He’d even gone back to
taking a lot of johns on his own. As more men turned Jared’s head, Tristan
desperately wanted to work up the nerve to suggest skipping out of work and
spending a little time in his flat, doing what they wanted rather than what
someone else wanted them to do. Jared seemed to enjoy working with him, but how
would he feel about sleeping with Tristan for free? Or even just hanging out
and having a conversation that didn’t include keeping an eye on the door for
would-be clients? Tristan could’ve sworn there’d been a little crush going on in
the beginning, and now he was kicking himself for not making his move before
Jared’s interest in him cooled in favour of johns and money.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You boys look bored.” Nick, one of the kinkier rentboys,
appeared beside their booth with a characteristic smirk on his thin lips. “Slow
night?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Night’s still young.” Tristan sipped his soft drink. “What
about you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick shrugged, the gesture extra flippant in true Nick
style. “Just waiting for a worthwhile victim to show up.” He shifted his
always-predatory gaze towards Jared. “You sure you don’t want to play with some
of the kinky customers?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan slid his hand further over Jared’s leg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I don’t know,” Jared said. “I’m having a pretty good time
with the ones I get.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Another shrug. “Suit yourself. But if you ever change your
mind . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’ll give it some thought.” Jared sounded sincere.
Genuinely interested, not just being polite.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick grinned. Tristan said
nothing, just ran his thumb back and forth over the inseam of Jared’s trousers.
Funny, Jared used to squirm under Tristan’s touch, but now it was as routine as
flirting with potential clients. Something to entice johns and establish that
Jared and Tristan worked together with no implications that they <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">were </span></i>together.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick glanced at the door, and straightened. “Oh. Looks like
tonight’s paycheque just arrived. I’ll talk to you guys later.” With that, he
was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Think we’ll ever get a client like one of his?” Jared
asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You never know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Could be fun.” Jared played with his straw. “Good money,
too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It could.” Jealousy flared in Tristan’s chest. He wasn’t
into the same things Nick was. The bondage, the pain play, it was all fine and
good, but it wasn’t his thing. He liked the power games, just not the
implements and bloodshed. He hadn’t thought Jared was into that kind of thing
either, but everyone knew Nick made a killing servicing the kinkier johns.
There was nothing stopping Jared from partnering up with him and getting in on
that action.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">How the hell do I tell him I
want him for myself?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hey.” Jared leaned closer, lips brushing Tristan’s ear.
“You remember that guy who paid us to fool around while he watched? The first
time, I mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan shivered and squeezed Jared’s leg. “How could I
forget?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yeah, well.” Jared tilted his head towards the door. “Look
who just walked in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan turned his head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Well</span></i>, fuck <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">me</span></i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
There he was. Suited and booted, looking like he owned the
place, flashy gold watch peeking out from the end of an expensively tailored
suit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Rolex. We meet again.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And he was coming right towards them, too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Looks like we might be making some money tonight,” Jared
said with a grin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Is that opportunity I hear
knocking?</span></i> Tristan ran his hand higher
up Jared’s leg. “Hope he stopped at the bank on his way here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex strolled up to their table. He gave Jared a long
look, then Tristan. “I was hoping you boys would be here tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“We are.” Tristan offered a toothy grin. “And you found us.
Now what are you going to do with us?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex seemed to think on it for a moment, as if thrown off
his stride, then grinned. “Oh, I’ve got a little fantasy in mind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“How kinky are we talking?” Tristan asked. “The place has
specialists for the weirder shit.” His teeth snapped shut. Best not to give
Rolex—or Jared—any ideas that might subtract Tristan from the night’s equation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex glanced around. “Nothing weird. You guys know I like
to watch.” He leaned closer, flattening his palms on the table. “And give some
orders along the way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Orders, eh?” Tristan flashed him a wide grin, and Rolex
laughed, clearly picking up the challenge. Tristan reached for his drink. “It’s
a rematch, then?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex pushed his tongue against his teeth. “Yeah. In a
manner of speaking.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan was intrigued enough that he glanced at Jared,
picking up the nod there. It might not be just watching, but by now they’d had
enough experience to play basically any john who entered the Garden by ear.
Oddly, two against one wasn’t fair—even if the other guy called the shots.
Totally different to play this game as a team. And they were a bloody good
team, especially when paired up with a john as hands-off as Rolex.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You ready to spend some
money?” Tristan asked. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">You ready to watch me seduce
him for real?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex didn’t flinch. “I think I’m over my sticker shock
from the last time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Good. Let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-28925617308700311542014-04-04T07:59:00.002-07:002014-04-04T07:59:37.374-07:00EXCERPT: PayoffTitle: Payoff<br />
Author: Aleksandr Voinov, L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Format: ebook<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan’s gaze was fixed on
the door, but Jared suspected he was less interested in the traffic coming into
Market Garden’s lounge area and more focused on <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">not </span></i>looking
at Jared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They’d been sitting in their usual booth for almost an
hour, and had barely said a word to each other. Ice melted in their drinks.
Music thumped all around them. Ever since Jared had come back from a
short—thank God—session with a john earlier this evening, Tristan had been
quiet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You’re staying?” Tristan had asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared had shrugged and offered a playful grin. “I’ve got
plenty left.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And that had been the end of the conversation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared picked up his glass and tilted it to slide an ice
cube into his mouth. As he set the glass down beside Tristan’s, he crushed the
ice with his back teeth. He ground the tiny shards into nothing, letting the
ice take the brunt of his quiet frustration.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Maddeningly oblivious, Tristan took a sip of his own drink,
but kept his attention on the door. On not looking at the man he’d fucked so
tenderly just last night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">What is your problem? </span></i>Jared wanted to ask, but concentrated on pulverizing the
rest of the melting ice. This wasn’t Tristan’s first cold silence. In fact,
Jared was starting to expect it whenever he went out with a john on his own.
Every damned time, he came back to forced smiles and awkward silences.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared rolled his eyes and went for another ice cube. If
Tristan didn’t like him going out solo, then he could man up and say something,
but he’d insisted time and again that they didn’t have to only work together.
That this was business, and he wasn’t about to prevent Jared from earning a
living. Though Jared had noticed that Tristan had all but stopped going out
alone, which was weird. It wasn’t like guys didn’t fall all over themselves for
Tristan—he was easily as popular as Nick had been—so he could’ve made a killing
with or without Jared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
If Tristan was upset or unhappy, the least he could do was
fucking say something. Except if he said something, it might be “this isn’t
working” or “we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” and Jared couldn’t stomach
either option. He wanted more, not less.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But maybe it would be less painful if Tristan just ripped
off the bandage and—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Get your head in game, idiot.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared cleared his throat. “Slow night.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan turned towards him, an eyebrow up. “You’ve already
made some money this evening.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Yeah. Sure. It’s about the
money, isn’t it?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared broke eye contact and searched his glass for yet
another ice cube. The two of them had been chatty and playful in Tristan’s bed
this morning. Nothing out of place, nothing wrong at all. Now this again. And fuck
this. Jesus. He was not in the mood to play mind games.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Holy shit.” Tristan’s eyes were again fixed on the door.
“Look who just walked in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared craned his neck and almost spit out an ice cube when
he recognised the john.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared couldn’t help grinning. Back for more, was he?
“Wonder if the third time’s the charm.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Eh?” Tristan eyed him. “You think he’s got a glass slipper
for you or something?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared glanced at Tristan, surprised at his tone. This
morning, in bed, it would have been friendly teasing, but there was an edge of
acid in his voice that Jared didn’t like at all. “Not a glass slipper, but I do
expect some easy money.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan gave a noncommittal shrug.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Well, suit yourself, then.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared sat up a bit straighter, and—bingo, eye contact.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex smiled at him and
walked over, looking quite in control of himself (<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">for the momen</span></i>t).
“You gentlemen free?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared grinned. “We’re hardly
gentlemen, and we’re never <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">free</span></i>. You know
that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Chuckling, Rolex nodded. “And you’re well worth it. Maybe I
should’ve asked if you’re available, then.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“We are.” Jared leaned forwards on his elbows, waited for
Tristan to make some space in the booth opposite. Seriously, how could such a
skinny guy take up so much room? “Haven’t seen you in a while.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex smirked. “You remember me. I’m not sure if that’s a
good thing or a bad one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“In your case, it’s a good one.” Jared’s eyes flicked
towards Tristan, but he didn’t get a response. Clearing his throat, he faced
Rolex again. “Just got into town?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yep. Even with all my luggage, no thanks to Heathrow.”
Rolex settled onto the bench beside Tristan, though he didn’t fully relax. He
was keen to be going already, probably wound tight from a day of flying and
chasing up his luggage and meetings and whatever else he spent his time on.
“And you guys? Still working together?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Right into the negotiations. Jared did prefer johns who
didn’t hem and haw. The quicker they could start making money, the quicker the
night would be over and he could go home. Luxury hotel rooms were starting to
get old, though he still remembered the excitement of five-stars that he’d
never have been able to afford and had never expected to see from the inside.
By now, he knew quite a few of the hotel staff, if not by name then by
personality. Always good to know who might refer him more clients and who might
get unpleasant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes, still working together.” Tristan stretched and rolled
his shoulders, then inched closer. Game face on. He went from mildly annoyed to
seductive in his blasé way that Jared envied but still hadn’t managed to copy.
“What’s your budget?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex gave a quiet laugh, eyes narrow as he met Tristan’s.
“My budget isn’t an issue. It’s a question of what I want. The price”—he waved
a hand—“is a minor detail. I’m just thinking of something a little different
than the last couple of times.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared gulped. The first time, Rolex had wanted to watch
Tristan fuck Jared. Second time, he’d had Jared give Tristan a lap dance. What
the hell did he have in mind tonight?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“All right,” Tristan said, still locking eyes with Rolex.
“What’s your pleasure, then?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Something I thought about all the way across the
Atlantic.” Rolex’s gaze slid towards Jared, then back towards Tristan.
“Watching you guys is hot, but I think I’m in the mood to be watched tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared’s heart sped up. Tristan didn’t give any outward
reaction. As always, he seemed bored by the discussion, but Jared had long ago
learnt that was just part of his game. He played johns with the most skilled
poker face Jared had ever seen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Watched?” Tristan casually picked up his drink. “Doing . .
.?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex nodded towards Jared. “Him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And Tristan choked on his soda.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared blinked, more at Tristan’s reaction than Rolex’s
declaration. Tristan was always cool and collected in front of johns, even when
he was in one of these moods. His aloof, blasé persona was part of what
intrigued these men so much, and Jared didn’t know what to make of him breaking
character. It wasn’t like this was the first time someone had asked to fuck
Jared while Tristan watched, though it had been a while. Or, rather, it had
been a while since someone had been able or willing to pay the price Tristan
commanded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">What the hell, Tristan?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared cleared his throat and returned his attention to the
john. “So you want to fuck me while he watches.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex nodded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan coughed into his leather-covered arm a few times
before schooling his expression, though he couldn’t do much about the red in
his cheeks. “That’ll be more expensive than the last couple of times.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Oh, will it?</span></i> Jared always deferred to Tristan when it came to
pricing out their services, but this didn’t strike him as something that should
cost more than their eye-wateringly expensive previous sessions with Rolex.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I know the routine with you two.” Rolex locked eyes with
Tristan. “Hundred pounds every time I want to turn up the heat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Depends on how high you want to turn it up.” Tristan’s
voice was flat, almost cold. “Fucking one of us while the other watches? That’s
going—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’m not worried about the price, to be honest.” Rolex
reached into his inside pocket and pulled a wad of cash out far enough for them
to see that he had more than enough. For what he had in that pocket, he could
probably have every man in the building blow him. Including some of the other
johns.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan eyed the money, and when it disappeared into
Rolex’s pocket again, he glanced at Jared for a split second before he shifted
his gaze back to his drink. He took a long swallow, then set the glass on the
table and pushed it away. “Well. Let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex immediately stood. Tristan followed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared hesitated for a moment, watching his partner slide
out of the booth. Tristan was moving slowly. No, reluctantly. He was clearly
back to his earlier weird attitude. Right about now, he’d usually offer Jared a
quick “we’re about to score some serious cash” grin while the john wasn’t
looking. This time? Shoulders down. Gaze down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They needed to talk, Jared
decided. Even if the conversation ended on a painful note, it had to happen.
Soon. Tonight. After Rolex was finished with them, assuming Tristan still
wanted to go back to one of their flats as planned. Wherever they wound up
tonight, they<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> needed </span></i>to hash things out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But first, they had a job to do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">***</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan didn’t like this. At all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But why? Rolex was a safe and sane john. He was also loaded
and more than happy to pay through the nose for the smallest service.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And Jared was . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan stole a glance at him, then swallowed hard and
focused on Rolex, watching the man’s back as the three of them headed out of
Market Garden. All night long, he’d been chastising himself and telling himself
to get it together. So what if Jared had been out with another john? They were
rentboys. This was what they did. Tristan himself had sucked off a good-looking
lawyer in the back of a limo parked in front of the Garden while Jared was out.
Not that he’d been able to focus very well, considering his mind had been on
Jared and wherever he’d gone, but the john had seemed satisfied. He’d given him
a fifty-quid tip, but Tristan’s heart hadn’t been in it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
His heart hadn’t been in any of this. Not for a while.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Things weren’t quite right between him and Jared, and it
was getting worse. Every time they woke up together, the knot in Tristan’s gut
tightened, despite his best efforts to ignore it. Something had to give. He’d
been pondering getting Jared out of the city for a week or two—they had enough
money between them to go on holiday somewhere cheap and preferably warm. Maybe
talk things through, figure out where the problem was, and see what they could
do about it. It wasn’t something Tristan could tackle on his own.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex’s driver opened the limo door. Jared got in first,
then Tristan opposite, feeling oddly sticky in his leather trousers on the
leather seats. More friction than normal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolex joined them, sitting next to Jared on the backseat.
And Jared slid closer, giving him one of those coy glances while he pressed up
against him. Rolex glanced at Tristan first, winked, then lifted Jared’s chin
with two fingers and kissed him. Jared had always said the man was a decent
kisser, and that was obvious just by watching him—not timid, not sloppy, not
the type of freaky john who’d be slobbering all over Jared’s face. The quiet
little moans coming from Jared were anything but fake. Rolex knew exactly how
to kiss him. Bastard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The car began to roll forwards, which disoriented Tristan.
He’d been too caught up there for a moment in how their lips moved, their
tongues. Jared had been the very picture of a boy with his sugar daddy, his
fingers tightening on the john’s thigh as Rolex’s fingers splayed possessively
on Jared’s shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It might have been hot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It should have been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
In different circumstances, it would have been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
In fact, it <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">had</span></i> been hot the first time. And the second time.
When Tristan had finally had the chance to get his hands on Jared, it had been
a thrill to touch him and taste him and fuck him, and having another man to
watch there had just made it hotter. The lap dance? Bloody hell. Tristan still
got shivers thinking about that. Jared would have been stunned if he knew how
many times Tristan had jerked off thinking about that night. Though he’d done a
lot less of that over the last few months because he didn’t need to jerk off
with Jared in his bed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Leather squeaked softly as Jared draped his leg across
Rolex’s lap. His hand was on the front of the john’s shirt, a couple of buttons
undone now, and Tristan’s heart skipped a little as he remembered Jared
touching him that way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Does he think of me the same
way he thinks of the johns?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan quickly banished that thought. Not here. Not now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He swore he could feel Jared’s fingers drifting lower,
catching on each button on the way down the front of that crisp, white shirt.
As Jared’s hand slid over the front of Rolex’s trousers, the contact hidden
from Tristan’s view by Jared’s slim, leather-clad leg, Rolex wasn’t the only
one whose breath caught.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tristan swallowed. He was
suddenly overwhelmed with the need to push Rolex out of the way and grab Jared
for himself. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">He</span></i> wanted Jared’s hands on his
dick. He wanted to be the one kissing him like that, especially as he watched
Jared playfully nipping Rolex’s lower lip. God, he loved it when Jared did
that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The thought of sitting back and watching Rolex fuck Jared
was simultaneously the hottest thing Tristan could imagine, and the most
frustrating. He wanted to be the one moving inside Jared while Rolex watched.
Or to hell with Rolex. He wanted Jared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jared and no one else.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-43030675167837261612014-04-04T07:58:00.000-07:002014-04-04T07:58:12.712-07:00EXCERPT: If It FornicatesTitle: If It Fornicates<br />
Author: Aleksandr Voinov, L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Format: ebook<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter One</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh, ow, that stings,” Richard hissed. His welt-covered
back flinched away from Nick’s touch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I know it does.” Nick kept his voice gentle. “Just relax.
It’ll help.” He continued smoothing lotion onto the sub’s scourged flesh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Richard didn’t quite relax. He was still new at this, still
hadn’t gotten used to that burn in his skin when he started coming out of
subspace and his nerve endings remembered what they did for a living.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Is that really necessary?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It is if you want to be able to wear a shirt or lean on
anything tomorrow, yes.” Nick capped the lotion bottle and put it aside. Then
he set his hands—lightly, of course—on the lotion-slicked skin, and made more
smooth, gentle circles over the welts. He grinned over his handiwork; he always
did love the cool patterns a cat-o’-nine-tails left on a sub’s back. Made his
masochistic clients so much more fun and interesting than the regular “fuck me
and I’ll pay you” johns.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
His grin faded, and he kept rubbing the lotion on, but with
less enthusiasm. His muscles ached a little from swinging the flogger, but
mostly he was just tired. That kind of bone-deep tired that hit the mind harder
than the body. Less like he’d fucked a businessman this afternoon and flogged
Richard this evening, and more like he’d just spent days on end studying for an
exam he couldn’t afford to fail. “Friday night at five” tired.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Just need a couple of nights
off, that’s all.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“How do you feel?” he asked Richard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Good.” Fatigue weighed down the sub’s voice. “Feel good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Doesn’t sting anymore?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“A little. Isn’t bad.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick smiled. Richard had come back down from subspace,
returned to terra firma, and now was hitting that lethargic state that would
eventually knock him out for the rest of the night. Mission accomplished.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Once Richard was all right for the evening, Nick took the
folded bills off the bureau—they’d learned after the first or second night to
have the money ready to go because Richard would be asleep before Nick left—and
called a cab. He checked one last time to make sure Richard was in a good
state, and then he was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The night was cool, especially for someone wearing no shirt
under a leather jacket, but the shock of evening air on bare skin helped centre
Nick and return him to the real world while he waited for his cab.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He could have sworn there’d been a time when he was flying
high after he left clients’ houses. He distinctly remembered feeling like he
could take on the world, like he could move a mountain with nothing more than a
glance. Maybe he was just burned out now. Who knew? But the last few times he’d
stepped outside to wait for his ride, he’d felt a dull heaviness in the pit of
his stomach. One he couldn’t quite explain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He glanced back at Richard’s terraced house. His lack of
enthusiasm was weird because this was one of the clients he actually liked,
although he didn’t really know him. He didn’t even know if Richard was the
guy’s real name. Most of his clients gave him fake names. Nick gave them his
real one. He liked the in-your-face quality of it, the ballsiness of saying,
“Yeah, my name is Nick, and I fuck men for a living.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
There was really nothing to be ashamed of. As far as some
people were concerned, just being gay meant he fucked everything and everyone.
Taking money for it was just the icing on the cake. The job suited him just
fine. Or at least it had until recently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The cab pulled up and Nick slipped into the back just as
his mobile started buzzing in his pocket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hang on a sec,” he told the driver, and pulled the phone
out of his pocket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Want to come by? I have roast
chicken.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He had a sixth sense for timing, that guy. The prospect of
roast chicken sounded great, especially when the alternative was collapsing in
front of the TV for another two hours before he rolled into bed. And an evening
with Spencer—a late night dinner followed by anything Nick wanted—was always
tempting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But Nick hesitated. He’d been doing that lately, ever since
that night a couple of weeks ago when he hadn’t taken Spencer’s money. The
night things had changed. Their relationship was on weird footing now, footing
Nick hadn’t quite adapted to yet, and he caught himself hesitating like this
every time he considered going over there. Of course he always went—over the
last couple of weeks, he’d been at Spencer’s house every night he hadn’t stayed
with a client—but the momentary hemming and hawing kept happening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A second text came through: <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">No strings attached. Just help me vanquish this bird.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Vanquish. Well, all right then . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick gave the driver Spencer’s address. After three months
and a little, he didn’t have to check it anymore on the phone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">On my way</span></i>, he texted back. They tended to text rather than speak on
the phone—all romantic and clandestine, but the relationship was still very
much up in the air. They were still settling into things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">It’ll work out</span></i>, he reminded himself for the millionth time. He’d got used
to being a prostitute. He could get used to being someone’s boyfriend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
En route to Spencer’s, Nick checked his emails. He’d
recently set up a website and that thing needed work. For whatever reason, it
attracted way too much spam. He also needed to get some professional photos.
Maybe if he pushed harder into the D/s side of things, he could start his own
studio and hire a couple people for the grunt work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">But that means you’ll be a
fully professional, full-time whore.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Being unashamed of something and being stuck doing it
forever were two very different things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
In front of Spencer’s house, Nick paid the cabbie, tipping
well as usual, grabbed his bag, and stepped out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Before Nick had even reached the front door, Spencer opened
it, looking gorgeous in jeans and a dark red cashmere sweater, barely protected
by an apron. He grinned wide as if Nick were the guy from the National Lottery.
“Come on in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Cheers.” Nick slid in and Spencer closed the door behind
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The house smelled of rosemary and roasting bird. After the
dark outside, the warm light squeezed oddly against his heart, and Nick dropped
his bag beside the door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Glad you could make it.” Spencer’s hand was warm as he
slid it beneath Nick’s jacket onto his bare waist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thanks for the invite.” Nick drew Spencer down for a quick
kiss that turned into a long one. They wrapped their arms around each other,
Spencer’s sweater soft against Nick’s skin wherever the apron didn’t get in the
way. Sometimes after he’d been with a client, the last thing Nick wanted was to
be touched, but Spencer’s hands and his embrace and his tender kiss were
exactly what he needed right then. An entire bottle of wine couldn’t relax Nick
the way this did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They separated, and when Nick swept the tip of his tongue
across his lip, Spencer shivered. Then he let Nick go and gestured down the
hall. “I should check on the bird. Come on in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“After you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
In the kitchen, Nick leaned against one of the work
surfaces.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Tea?” Spencer asked after he’d checked on the chicken.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Please.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
This was all so oddly domestic: Spencer pouring tea into a
pair of matching mugs, offering cream and sugar, and the two of them quietly
sipping it in the fragrant kitchen. If someone had peered in through a window,
they might have mistaken the two of them for a respectable couple instead of a
corporate lawyer and his prostitute boyfriend. With that gentle kiss still
tingling on his lips, Nick might have made that mistake himself, and he didn’t
know quite what to make of that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He put down his mug. “You didn’t roast that bird yourself,
did you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I did. Stopped at Smithfield Market, came face-to-face,
well, in a manner of speaking, with the biggest chicken I’ve ever seen. The
butcher said it’s a capon. A castrated chicken. Told me how to cook it, too,
but it took quite a while longer than he indicated.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Ahh,” Nick said. “That explains why it’s just about ready
at this hour.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer laughed. “Tell me about it. I didn’t set out to eat
at”—he glanced at the microwave clock—“ten thirty at night.” His laugh turned
into a gentle smile. “But I’d say it worked out. Meant we could have a proper
dinner together.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So we can.” Damn, but these fuzzy, romantic feelings were
alien to Nick. He cleared his throat. “I, um, didn’t know you cooked. It’s been
all restaurant deliveries so far.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Shoving some oranges and limes up a dead bird’s bottom and
throwing him in an oven isn’t cooking,” Spencer insisted. “I was just . . . in
the mood.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick smiled and crossed his arms. “Next thing I know,
you’ll bake gingerbread cookies.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer laughed again. Then he nodded at Nick’s chest,
which was bare under his leather jacket. “Want a shirt?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hmm. Interesting. An attempt at domesticity. But having
dinner half-naked might just be a bit weird.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I probably should.” Nick uncrossed his arms. “But nothing
of yours is going to fit me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Just a sec.” Spencer rushed off, and Nick exhaled. Damn,
nothing about this was as awkward or unnatural as he kept convincing himself it
should be. He pulled down the zip and slipped out of his jacket, then hung that
up in the corridor. The kitchen was plenty warm with the roast going.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Here.” Spencer came back with a slinky running top in
black that wouldn’t hang off him like he was trying on an older brother’s
clothes. Nick pulled it on, gratified that Spencer stole a long glance at his
chest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thanks,” Nick said, and picked up his tea mug again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer watched him for a moment. “Long day?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Do I look it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“A bit.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick clasped his hands and
stretched his arms out, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders.
“Why do I feel like I just put in a week at <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">your </span></i>job?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer laughed. “What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I don’t even know, really.” Nick rubbed the bridge of his
nose. “Just exhausted. And it’s less physical than mental. Which is weird.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Huh. That’s kind of—here, turn around.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick eyed him. “What?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer gestured for him to do as he was told. Odd, the sub
ordering the Dom, but right about then, Nick didn’t care about playing games.
And besides, they weren’t in the bedroom. Equal footing out here in the kitchen
between an oven full of roasting bird and a table set for two.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
So he turned around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer’s hands materialized on his shoulders. He pressed
his fingers and thumbs in, and Nick closed his eyes as Spencer kneaded the
exhausted muscles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You okay?” Spencer asked. “You are really, really tense.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick wanted to answer automatically with “I’m fine” or “I’m
just tired,” but Spencer’s hands were like tactile truth serum. Gentle but firm
pressure that completely destroyed Nick’s resolve—and maybe his ability—to
bullshit his way out from under the conversation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He exhaled, tilting his head
forward so Spencer had more access to his neck. “I don’t know what it is. The
last couple of weeks or so, I’ve just . . .” <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">What? Approached everything,
especially my job, with all the enthusiasm of a kid opening up a pack of socks
and underwear on Christmas?</span></i> He sighed and shook his head.
“Maybe I just need a holiday.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You just took one a few weeks ago.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick stiffened. Right. That “holiday to Spain” he’d
supposedly taken. Guilt clawed at him; he still hadn’t been entirely truthful
to Spencer about that. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think it was enough.
Maybe I, um, need another.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Maybe you do.” Spencer’s hands slowly climbed Nick’s neck,
sliding under his longish hair in search of the tension Nick obviously couldn’t
keep hidden from him. “You’ve got a physically demanding job.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’ve had a physically
demanding job for a long . . . <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">ooh.</span></i>” He shivered as
Spencer’s thumb pressed into a particularly tense spot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“That hurt?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “But keep doing it.” Man,
he really was tense. He hated the feeling of someone massaging out a
particularly knotted muscle, hated that persistent pain as muscle fought
fingers before finally giving in and relaxing. Right now, though, that
obnoxious sharp pain was the promise of relief, so he pressed back, pushing
against Spencer’s fingers even though his eyes watered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
After some work on Spencer’s part and swearing on Nick’s,
the muscle gave. The pain faded to a dull ache, and Spencer worked his way back
down to Nick’s shoulders.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Anyway.” Nick released a breath. He carefully tilted his
newly relaxed neck to one side, then the other. “It’s not like I’m new to this
job. After all this time, you’d think I’d be used to it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Maybe you’re burned out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I don’t know.” Nick had studied burnout in-depth at
university, but was that what this was? He sighed. “I don’t know what it is.
Like I said, it’s not my body that’s tired.” Nick turned his head as far as he
could, just enough to bring Spencer into his peripheral vision. “That’s what I
meant when I said it felt like I’d been at your job all day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Brain stuffed with wet wool?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick laughed, facing forward again. “Yeah. Exactly. I mean,
maybe it is burnout. I just . . .” Feel like there’s more to it than that?
Maybe he was overthinking it. Trying to self-diagnose something strange and
obscure like every psych student eventually did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He closed his eyes and enjoyed Spencer’s magic hands as
they travelled down his back. Spencer’s thumbs pressed in on either side of his
spine, and his fingers kneaded the outer muscles until they relaxed. Nick
completely lost track of time, and very nearly forgot where he was until
Spencer stopped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Rolling his relaxed shoulders, Nick turned again. “Fuck,
you’re good at that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thank you.” Nick realised right then how close they were,
but just when Nick thought a kiss was inevitable, Spencer stepped back. He had
a good sense of physical space. Nick couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever
crowded him. And the man was bigger and taller than he was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Well, let’s see what our dinner guest looks like now.”
Spencer grabbed two oven mitts again and opened the oven. A waft of oily,
citrusy, rosemary-scented heat escaped. He took hold of the roasting pan,
lifted it out of the oven, and put it down on two slate plates.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick eyed the immense bird. “I think they sold you a
goose.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Looks like it, doesn’t it?” Spencer stabbed the alleged
chicken with a two-pronged fork and moved it onto a carving plate. In short
order, he’d cut and carved the monster and put plenty of white meat on two
plates with honey-roasted carrots and green salad. “I’ll just get the wine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick lifted an eyebrow. “You sure about the wine?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It’s a good bottle. Gift from a client who’s investing in
wines.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No sex, then? Or at least no games. “I’m not that tired,”
Nick defended.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What? Oh. Well, we . . . we don’t have to do anything
tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“If I’ve had more than a little to drink, we can’t.
Anything more than a glass.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“That’s all right. Tomorrow?” A hint of strain in his voice
suggested that he very much hoped it would be tomorrow. But Spencer wasn’t
pushing for it. He wasn’t a needy sub manipulating his way to a beating or sex.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Okay.” Nick grabbed the plates. “You deal with the wine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
With the chicken served and the wine poured, they took
their seats at the table. Spencer gestured at the food. “Please, by all means.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick nodded. “Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The chicken was surprisingly moist and tender. “If I’d
known you were this good a cook,” he said, “I’d have suggested this sooner.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer smiled over the rim of his wineglass. “We’ll have
to do it again, then.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
How . . . domestic. There was just no other word for it.
This wasn’t the first meal they’d shared, but the first that seemed so homey
and normal. And for that matter, the first time a meal together hadn’t
explicitly served as foreplay of some description. Eating together for the sake
of eating together.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nevertheless, looking at Spencer meant seeing sex. Meant
seeing that unconditional surrender, that sweetness in him that surfaced when
he overcame the pain, his brain stewed and softened in nature’s hormone
cocktail.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick swallowed a sip of wine. “How was your week?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Finally closed the big deal. Paperwork is all signed and
done. I’m taking a little time off. Tomorrow and Monday.” He paused to slice
off another bite of chicken. “At least that’s the plan.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Sounds like I’m not the only one who needs a holiday.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer looked down at his plate and sighed. “I’m not even
sure that’s enough, to be quite honest.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“If I go on a holiday,” Spencer said dryly, “I still have
to go back to the firm when it’s over.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I thought you liked your job.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I thought so too,” Spencer said, almost more to himself
than to Nick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So you . . . don’t like being a lawyer?” Nick looked at
him over the rim of his wineglass. “Isn’t that what you always wanted to do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It is. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a lawyer.”
Spencer picked up his own wineglass, but just cradled it between his fingers.
“I liked the idea of being one. But these days”—his gaze slid towards Nick, and
his eyes echoed the exhaustion in his voice—“I’m not so sure I’m happy with the
reality of it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What don’t you like about it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“The hours, the stress, the office politics.” Spencer
exhaled hard. “I’m still closeted at work because I’m afraid of the
consequences if I come out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick quirked an eyebrow. “They can’t fire you for that, can
they?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Not directly.” Bitterness laced the edge of Spencer’s
tone. “But there are ways of persuading undesirable employees to seek
employment elsewhere. Or put them on the chop list when there’s another round
of downsizing.” He tilted his head to one side, then the other, as if some
tension had crept up the back of his neck. “Sometimes I’m tempted to come out
and just be done with it. I can’t imagine they can make me any more miserable
than I already am.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Wow,” Nick said. “I hadn’t realised you hated it that
much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“The actual job itself isn’t so bad. I enjoy what I do.
It’s the atmosphere and everything else that comes with it that I hadn’t
bargained for, you know? And it’ll be the same at any other firm, so I don’t .
. .” He sighed and shook his head. “I really don’t know what to do.” He looked
at Nick again, his expression mirroring the fatigue Nick felt. “You know my job
is the whole reason I came to you in the first place?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It—” Nick paused, clearing his throat. He was amazed at
how casually Spencer could bring Nick’s profession into a conversation, never
seeming to bat an eye. “It is?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Percy convinced me I should give it a go.” Spencer sipped
his wine, then put the glass down. “Said I was on a fast track to an ulcer and
a heart attack, and I needed to blow off some steam. And what you did, it was .
. . it was what I needed.” He smiled, and Nick returned it. The smile faded a
little, and he added, “I feel better, and I’m happy with you, but the fact is
I’m still on that fast track.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick swallowed. “Have you thought about changing careers?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Seems like a waste of all the time and energy I spent
getting this far.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Seems like an even bigger waste to me to spend your life
doing something that makes you miserable.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Fair point.” Spencer cut off another piece of chicken.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick watched him for a moment. “Negotiating all that job
stress and . . . me can’t have been easy. When we were still trying to figure
things out, I mean.” And have we figured all those things out? “Sorry for
adding to your pile.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No.” Spencer put down his fork and knife. “You’ve kept me
sane, Nick. I was on the verge of burnout when we met. I still am, but you . .
. gave me an outlet I didn’t even know existed. You helped recharge me.” He
smiled. “Who knew pain was such a stress-buster?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It gives your body something to worry about besides the
fight-or-flight adrenaline response.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Or office-related bollocks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick laughed. “That too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer’s eyes lost focus. He slowly swirled his wineglass,
but didn’t look at anything in particular, Nick included.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Something wrong?” Nick asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The lack of focus remained for a moment, but then Spencer
lifted his gaze and met Nick’s eyes. “Does this, what we’re doing, have
anything to do with how you’re feeling?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You’re stressed and tired too. I mean, you’re a sex
worker. And now we’re in a . . . I mean, we’re . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“In a relationship.” Still felt so strange to say those
words.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Right.” Spencer stopped swirling the glass, but held onto
it, like he needed some sort of concrete handle on the universe. “Does it
bother you? What we’re doing along with your job?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick’s normal knee-jerk response would have been to insist
that their relationship had nothing to do with anything, but the words caught
in his throat. Was it an issue? He’d been so relieved just to break the tension
and be back in Spencer’s world after that long, silent gap that he hadn’t
considered how all of this might affect him. Affect either of them, for that
matter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“If it’s an issue,” Spencer said quietly, “we don’t have
to.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick sipped from his glass and looked down at his plate as
he rolled the dry wine around on his tongue. He swallowed it, wondering when
his throat had gotten so tight. “Maybe it’s just an adjustment period.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer’s chair creaked, so Nick chanced a look. He’d
leaned forward, resting his elbows beside his plate and loosely clasping his
fingers together. “I don’t want to be a source of stress for you, though.
You’ve done so much to reduce my stress, and I . . .” He shook his head. “I’m
not doing that to you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick moistened his lips. “You’re not. But I’ve . . . Look,
you and I are crossing some lines I’ve learned to be cautious about crossing. I
haven’t had a boyfriend in ages, and getting involved with someone who started
out as a client is particularly unnerving. It’s . . . it’s something I need to
adapt to. Slowly. Figure out where the new lines are.” He paused. “Figure out
where exactly this differs from all the other men who still pay me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He watched Spencer, waiting for the flinch, some indication
that Spencer really didn’t like the idea of Nick having sex with other men, never
mind for pay. But the flinch didn’t come. He just kept looking at Nick, calmly
and quietly waiting for him to continue.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick took a breath. “I think we just—I just—need time to
settle into this. That’s all.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer nodded. “I think we both do. I’m new at this too. I
mean, I told you about my ex—the one who went to New York City and then claimed
the time difference made everything impossible.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Mr Fall-Asleep-On-Papers-In-Bed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Him.” Spencer smiled, but he didn’t seem wistful. He was
over the guy, though maybe not over having been treated like that and having
made such a dog’s dinner out of something that must have started out good and
right and hopeful once upon a time. Always interesting how that first blush of
love could turn to shit if you weren’t careful. “I’m thinking, as long as we
talk about things, we’ll be fine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The offer was clearly on the table: Let’s talk.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You’ve never had a relationship with a Dom, Spencer. Of
course you’re out at sea. But this can be whatever we make it. I’ll make sure
your needs are met, and you’ll meet mine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer shivered—just a hint, and Nick wouldn’t even have
noticed if he didn’t know that man so well. Something in Spencer’s expression
changed, and the submissive crept in. The man who looked up to his Dom and needed
him to be in control. They were far from Spencer’s bedroom, surrounded by
everything domestic and eerily normal—by society’s standards, not Nick’s—and
still, in the space of a comment and its subsequent, unspoken response, the
power balance was shifting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I still have to make a living.” Nick put it out there
mostly to gauge Spencer’s reaction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer nodded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Really? Was Spencer really accepting it? And why?
Obedience? Respect for lines Nick had drawn pretty much from day one?
Tolerance? Resignation? He’d have to get underneath that and peel the façade
away. It was the most likely weak point, the most natural breaking point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Are you really okay with what I do, Spencer?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer’s eyes lost focus for a moment, but then he nodded.
“Yes. I am. What about you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick blinked. “What about me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Are you okay with what you do?” Spencer cradled his
wineglass between his fingers, and looked straight at Nick. “I mean, are you
okay with your job alongside our relationship?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Of course I am,” Nick said quickly. “I’m maybe a bit
burned out, but . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Again, Spencer was quiet for a moment. “I think we need to
acknowledge the fact that it’s unhealthy, the amount of stress on both of us
right now, whether it’s because either of us needs to make a change in our
professional lives or not.” Definitely the lawyer talking here, and he
unflinchingly held Nick’s gaze. “I don’t want this”—he gestured at himself and
then Nick—“to be the reason for that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick’s heart jumped. “Meaning?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath,
released it slowly, and only then did he say, “It means we need to take care of
ourselves. And each other. And if it comes down to it, make some difficult
decisions.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The flutter of panic in Nick’s chest unsettled him; he
didn’t like that feeling. That sense that he was rapidly losing control of a
situation, which made him want to not just regain control, but grab it in a
chokehold. He swallowed. “It’s way too early to be choosing between this and
our jobs.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer nodded. “But sooner or later, something’s going to
have to give, and I just think we ought to be aware of that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Right,” Nick said with a nod. “As it stands right now, I
don’t want to change a thing.” Especially this. Please, not this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Neither do I.” Spencer paused, still cradling his
wineglass, and smiled a little. “I want to get rid of the stress, not the
stress relief.” He winked, and laughed softly, which settled some of that
fluttery feeling in Nick’s chest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick managed a soft laugh himself. “I don’t want to change
this either. We’ll . . . we’ll figure everything out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I know. I just want to make sure it’s all out on the
table. So we can figure it out together.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Agreed,” Nick said quietly. “And while we’re putting
everything out on the table, I should mention that at times, I’ll have a bad
day. Normally, I don’t really mingle right after a night like that. I need
space when things go wrong. To regroup. It’s not to get away from you, though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Spencer nodded again. “Understood. That can happen in my
job, too. And it doesn’t help that when things get intense in the office, I
might not even come home. Hell, I have slept in my office some weekends.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’ve heard stories like that. That’s fine. We both have
demanding jobs.” Spencer traced the foot of his wineglass with a fingernail.
“There’s no reason why this shouldn’t work, though. We manage . . . sexually.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Not just manage. Sexually, they were hand in glove, Spencer
so natural as his sub that Nick’s pulse sped up just thinking about that.
Normal life, though? That was something entirely different.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Well.” Nick drained his wineglass—there wasn’t much left
by this point—and set it back on the table. “All we can do is take it one day
at a time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A grin played at Spencer’s lips. “And the nights?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nick returned the grin. “If they ain’t broke . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-26267585680887997662014-04-04T07:56:00.001-07:002014-04-04T07:56:17.522-07:00EXCERPT: Finding Master RightTitle: Finding Master Right<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Formats: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter One</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chase</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I never thought I’d say
this,” Derek said, adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder, “but I am
really glad <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">everybody’s</span></i> not wearing
leather right now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No shit.” I scanned the hotel lobby’s thickening crowd as
I tapped out my impatience on the upraised handle of my suitcase. This time
tomorrow, the entire building would smell like a saddle shop, and there’d be
enough leather visible to make the collective membership of PETA faint. Just
the thought would normally make my mouth water.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Right now? Not so much,
because it was ninety-seven degrees outside and the hotel’s air conditioner had
picked this afternoon to crap out. Though I wouldn’t have guessed it prior to
this moment, I realized then that if there was anything worse than standing in
a long, slow-moving line, it was standing in a long, slow-moving line in a
sweltering lobby surrounded by sweaty men in<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> hot</span></i> leather.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
For the time being, there were a few people in leather, but
mostly shorts and T-shirts. More shirts came off as more people crowded into the
lobby; between the growing crowd and the thick black curtains covering all the
windows to prevent passersby from seeing anything offensive this week, the
temperature was rising by the minute.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Taped to a post, a
photocopied sign tried to placate us: <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">We apologize for the
inconvenience. We are working to correct the faulty air conditioning as quickly
as we can.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Might want to step it up, boys</span></i>, I thought as the revolving doors deposited another half
dozen or so attendees into the lobby. At least most of us could improvise if
the heat lingered tomorrow. It would still be unpleasant, but we could just
strip off layers until no one was wearing anything but bondage harnesses and
hot pants. Half the guys would be almost naked most of the time anyway. Well,
except for the guys who’d be demonstrating gimp suits. They’d be miserable. And
oh, God, the poor furries . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The line inched forward, so we shuffled after it, stopping
about three inches from where we’d been for the last ten minutes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Ugh.” Derek shrugged off his backpack and dropped it at
his feet. “It is too. Fucking. Hot in here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And God damn him, he peeled off his white T-shirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I didn’t have to look. I did look, of course, but it wasn’t
like I’d never seen him without his shirt. Smooth pecs, flawless abs, some
elaborate Celtic knots tattooed across the left side of his ribcage. Not a
single bruise or welt, though, which just twisted my gut a little tighter. He
was a submissive and a masochist. Sex left marks on a man like him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Except last night. Because last night, he’d insisted on
keeping things vanilla.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">“I just want to fuck tonight,”</span></i> he’d said somewhere between the first kiss and the
first condom. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">“Just fuck me, Chase.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He must not have realized
that I’d distinctly remembered all the times he’d said sex wasn’t worth having
unless someone drew blood or left a mark. And now, the morning after we’d <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">finally</span></i> hooked up, he didn’t have a single welt on
him. Ouch, Derek. Ouch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I definitely could have done without nine hours in the car
with him on the way here. Hooking up last night meant I’d spent all damned day
today obsessively wondering why a kinky sub like him was fine having plain
vanilla sex with me, but nothing more. Having him right beside me while I
gnawed on those thoughts was . . . less than comfortable.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Correction: Standing in a slow-moving line a sweltering
lobby may have sucked, but it didn’t get any worse than checking into a
week-long convention that promised to be as sexually charged as they ever were,
during which I’d be sharing a room with the submissive I’d fucked last night
but hadn’t actually topped, even though I’d wanted to. And I was still licking
my wounds from my last sub deciding he’d rather . . . anyway. Whatever.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Oblivious to my inner grumbling, Derek gasped. “Oh my God,”
he said in a stage whisper. “There he is!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Didn’t need to ask who. It wasn’t hard to pick the guy
out—even surrounded by other tall, hot men with broad, inked shoulders, the
blond goatee and long ponytail gave him away. And heaven knew I’d seen enough
pictures of him recently to pick him out of a lineup. Who else but the infamous
Master Raul could make Derek flush more than an overheated hotel lobby already
had?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Correction again: It didn’t
get any worse than being too-recently single, checking into a week-long,
sexually charged convention, rooming with a submissive I was dying to top, and
knowing that said submissive had made it his mission to put himself on the
radar of <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">that guy.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And suddenly I realized why he hadn’t wanted me to leave
any marks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Fuck my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The line continued inching forward at glacial speed. The
revolving doors kept whisking more people into the lobby than the desk clerks
were whisking out, and the temperature kept rising along with the volume of
voices. Derek’s shirt stayed off and his attention kept drifting toward that
blond, ponytailed piece of distraction he’d come all this way to pursue. The
only thing missing was my ex, and as far as I knew, he was still planning on
attending, so every time that revolving door went around, I cringed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A woman’s voice cut through the noise: “I can help
whoever’s next.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh, that’s us.” Derek picked up his backpack and grabbed
his suitcase.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
At the desk, I set my own stuff down and reached into my
pocket for my wallet. “Reservation for two. Last name’s Martin.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
She tapped a few keys. “Chase Martin?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes, ma’am.” I slid my credit card across the polished
granite desk.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“And you’re here for the
convention?” Her smile was friendly and genuine, but her eyes said nothing if
not, <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Oh my God, is this really happening?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I nodded and returned the smile, trying not to look too
amused. If she thought this was an unusual crowd, she hadn’t seen a thing yet.
Poor girl. She wouldn’t know what hit her tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Okay,” she said, “I have you down for a non-smoking room
with two queens—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek snorted. I threw him a look, and he glared at me, but
then cleared his throat and muttered an apology.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The girl’s cheeks darkened, and she offered a shy laugh
before she went on, “Non-smoking room with two queen-sized beds, checking out
on Sunday afternoon. Is that correct?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
She typed something else into the computer, then printed my
receipt and handed us our room keys. “You’re in room 387. Elevators are down
the hall.” She ran us through everything else—where to park, where to eat, the
usual hotel spiel—and sent us on our way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
As we left the lobby, Derek said, “Think she’s ever worked
a con like this before?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I laughed. “Probably not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Ooh, my.” He whistled, shaking his head. “It will be an
enlightening week, won’t it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Aren’t cons like this always enlightening?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Well, yes. But for someone who’s— Oh, good lord.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I was about to ask what had caught his attention, but even
before I turned my head, I’d answered my own question.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The great, coveted, ponytailed Master Raul. Much closer now,
shirtless, leaning casually against a chest-high planter and talking with some
other perspiring attendees as they all waited to check in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Why don’t you go talk to
him?” I asked. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Because I could use a break and a chance to
catch my breath.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek glanced at me. Then he shook his head and kept
walking. “I think I’ll wait until I’m not sweating like a pig, thanks.” He
looked down at himself and wrinkled his nose. “Right now, I need a shower.
Stat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I didn’t say anything, and tried like hell not to picture
Derek showering in our shared bathroom. Oh, yeah. This was going to be a long
week.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The elevator took us up to our floor, and when the doors
opened, we were greeted by a rush of pleasantly cool air. Apparently, at least
some of the A/C in the building was working, and we were so caught up in
basking in the luxurious coolness the doors started to close, but I caught
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Our room was a few doors down from the elevator. Close
enough that it wasn’t stupidly inconvenient, far enough that we wouldn’t be
disturbed when people came and went at all hours of the night. Perfect.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
When we stepped into our room, it was actually cold enough
to warrant turning down the A/C.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek sprawled across the
bed closer to the windows. “Oh, thank <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">God</span></i>. Some cool air.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“And we don’t have to sleep in that horrible heat.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Uh-huh. And so help me,” he said, almost groaning, “if the
A/C isn’t working down there tomorrow, I’m spending the entire con up here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I laughed. “You? Stay up here and miss all the boys and
toys?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He quirked his lips. “Hmm. Good point. Okay, so I’ll just
come up here to cool off every now and then.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hotel room’s not usually a place I’d go to cool off, but
whatever turns your crank.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek didn’t throw back one of his customary smartass
comments. In fact, he didn’t say anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I unzipped my suitcase, and he still hadn’t spoken.
“Something wrong?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No, nothing’s wrong.” Derek sat up and rested his hands on
the side of the bed while I pulled things out of my suitcase. He cleared his
throat. “But, um, since we’re sharing a room . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
My hands stopped moving. I glanced up. “Yes?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Well, I mean . . .” He lowered his gaze to the floor
between the beds. “Look, we’re two single guys. Everyone here is kinky. So, I
mean, you know . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Oh, be still my beating heart .
. .</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Before I could say anything, Derek took a deep breath and
met my eyes again. “And especially after last night, I . . . I just want to
make sure I know where we stand.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Where we stand?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yeah. You know.” He
shrugged with one shoulder. “Like, is it cool if we bring people back to the
room? Or should we go to <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">their </span></i>rooms?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It took every last ounce of restraint I possessed—and I was
a Dom, for fuck’s sake—to pretend he hadn’t just verbally kicked me in the
balls.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Um . . .” I turned around and pulled open one of the
dresser drawers below the mirror and TV. “I guess we could, uh, play it by
ear.” I turned, glancing at him in the mirror as I put the stack of neatly
folded clothes into the drawer. “But maybe it would be better if our default is
to take it to other people’s rooms.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Something unreadable flickered across Derek’s face,
tightening his lips and furrowing his brow for a fleeting second before he
shrugged again and pushed himself to his feet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
As he headed for the door, I stepped in front of him.
“Wait.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He halted. “What?” His tone was flat, but laced with
impatience.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I hesitated. “Look, talk to me, Derek. Is something wrong?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He held my gaze, and from the set of his jaw, there was
definitely something wrong. But then he shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Don’t
worry about it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Sure about that?” I tried not to sound defensive. “Because
we’ve—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Look, if you’d rather I stay somewhere else,” he snapped,
“I can find another room to crash in. Just say the word, all right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What? No, I don’t want—” I paused. “What gave you that
impression?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He raised his eyebrow and
tilted his head in classic Derek “fucking <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">really?</span></i>” fashion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Am I missing something?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek rolled his eyes again. He folded his arms over his
chest. “What did we talk about in the car today?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I thought back to the drive in. “I . . . don’t think we
talked about much of anything, did we?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No, we didn’t,” he snapped. “Didn’t that strike you as a
little odd?” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve barely said two words to me since you
got into my pants.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I blinked. “I—” Running
through the last twelve or so hours or so in my head, I realized with a sinking
feeling that he was right. I hadn’t been ignoring him, not by any means, but I
hadn’t been talking to him either. “Jesus, Derek, I’m sorry. I . . .” <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Couldn’t even breathe around you? Was afraid I might say something
that would make this entire week awkward as fuck? Even </span></i>more<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> awkward?</span></i> “I was preoccupied. It had nothing
to do with you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He eyed me skeptically.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Okay, so he was right to question me. My silence had had
everything to do with him, but not for the reasons he must have thought.
Certainly not because he’d done anything wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “It was nothing you did. And it
wasn’t because I’d gotten into your pants and then decided I had no use for
you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Then why?” All the fury in his voice and posture
evaporated, replaced by a palpable hurt. “One minute we were all over each
other, and the next . . .” He shook his head and lowered his gaze. “The next
you acted like you didn’t want to be anywhere near me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It wasn’t that at all.” <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Quite the contrary. </span></i>But how to tell him I wanted
more when he’d made it so clear that he didn’t? “I think last night, it just .
. . it kind of came out of the blue, you know?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Tell me about it.” Now his tone betrayed nothing. No
regret, anger, hurt. Nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“But I don’t want things to be weird between us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek exhaled, and his shoulders relaxed a little. “I don’t
either. I’m just worried they already are.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“They don’t have be,” I said quietly. “Maybe it was a
mistake, but we’ve been friends way too long to let something like this ruin
that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
His lips tightened. “True.” He looked me in the eyes. “So
we should just put it behind us, then. Pretend it never happened.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Ouch again, Derek.</span></i> “I don’t know what else we can do. I mean, I don’t
regret it, but—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Neither do I,” he said softly, avoiding my eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I wanted so badly to put a comforting hand on his shoulder,
but how much contact was welcome in a conversation like this? Touching him to
reassure him while we agreed we couldn’t touch? Too conflicting. Mixed
messages. Too goddamned tempting to—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“We don’t necessarily have to pretend it never happened,” I
said. “We just can’t let it happen again. So we don’t screw this”—I gestured at
him, then myself—“up again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Derek nodded. “I can live with that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Good. Me too.” <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">I think.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Okay.” He nodded toward the door. “Anyway, I stink. I’m
going to go grab that shower.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He brushed past me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The bathroom door closed, and I released my breath. I
nudged the drawer shut with my hip and met my own eyes in the mirror above the
dresser.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A week. At a leather con.
With Derek. In the same hotel, but maybe not always the same hotel <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">room.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Once again, fuck my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-28506507413400248192014-04-04T07:53:00.003-07:002014-04-04T07:53:39.368-07:00EXCERPT: After the Fall Title: After the Fall (Tucker Springs #6)<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Formats: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter 1</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Yesterday, after ten years of dreaming, three years of
saving, and almost a full year of searching for the perfect horse, I finally
bought Tsarina. Today, after six and a half hours squirming behind my desk, I
didn’t hesitate when Mike said, “Nathan, get out of here. Enjoy your ride.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I clocked out and burned rubber getting from the Light
District to the edge of the foothills and down the dusty driveway to the farm
where I boarded Tsarina.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And here we were, Tsarina
plodding lazily down a shady trail while I watched a few flecks of sunlight
playing on her black mane and gold-and-bronze coat. My saddle creaked softly in
time with the hoof beats on the dirt, the sound almost hypnotic. The ranch had
faded behind us, and now it was just her and me out here in the woods. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Finally.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
This was all I had planned for the summer. Classes were
out, and Tsarina and I were going to spend the summer getting to know each
other on the trails. Come winter, we’d start working with a trainer and set our
sights on competition, because a big, smooth-moving Trakehner like Tsarina
belonged out on the dressage circuit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
For the time being, though? I’d take it easy with her and
enjoy the fact that I finally had a horse again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Now that she was sufficiently warmed up from the gentle
walk and a few short trots, I decided to pick up the pace a little. I tapped
her with my foot and clicked my tongue, and Tsarina immediately flowed from a
walk into a perfectly smooth, rocking horse canter. I couldn’t help grinning.
From my limited experience with her so far, I was convinced this mare was
physically incapable of a choppy gait.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Grinning even bigger, I wondered what she’d be like when
she had free rein to drop the hammer and go. How fast, how smooth—how did she
run when she wasn’t fenced in?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I couldn’t resist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
As the incline steepened on a straightaway, I stood in the
stirrups, leaned over her neck, and urged her on with my knees. She didn’t
hesitate, launching into a full gallop like she’d been shot from a cannon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Her mane whipped at my face.
I squinted against the wind. God, but she was smooth. Like one of those horses
you can ride while holding a glass of champagne and not spill a drop. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Perfect.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The trail got steeper, and she ran harder to make it up the
slope.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I heard the engine a split second too late.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A blue and white motorcycle shot out from the right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tsarina shied. The biker
skidded sideways, like we’d startled him as much as he’d startled us. Dirt
sprayed in the air. My horse tried to spin one way. Then she whipped back the
other way. I’d almost recovered from my own startle enough to keep my balance,
but then she jerked sideways again, and I knew that panicked, weightless
sensation all too well, that moment when oh shit becomes <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">I’m falling.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Worse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">I’m falling</span></i> became <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">we’re falling.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Me and all sixteen-plus hands of her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I had just enough presence of mind to pull my foot out of
the stirrup before we hit the ground, but I landed hard enough to knock the
wind out of me. Tsarina landed on my leg. Nothing hurt, but that wouldn’t last.
Not with that crunch that hadn’t yet registered in my—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Oh God. There it is.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I tried to curse but still couldn’t breathe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tsarina scrambled to her feet. I reached for the dangling
reins but closed my fingers around nothing. Then an eye-watering wave of pain
in my leg sent me right back to the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Over the idling motorcycle engine, hoof beats.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I forced myself up onto my elbows. My heart jumped into my
throat as leaf-filtered sunlight flickered across Tsarina’s glossy hide as she
ran like hell the way we’d come.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I tried to call her name. Still couldn’t get the air
moving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Panic. My lungs. My horse.
My <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">leg</span></i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see or hear
Tsarina.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I coughed, forcing some air to move.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Footsteps hurried toward me, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
Pain and panic retreated to make room for fury. Son-of-a-bitch reckless
motorcyclist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A hand pressed down on my shoulder. “Hey, you all right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I didn’t realize I’d moved at all until the biker stumbled
backward, holding one side of his face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Son of a bitch!” I grabbed my wrist as pain exploded up
from my knuckles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He stared at me, rubbing his face. “What the—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I need to find my horse
before she gets hit by a car.” Again I started to get up, but again the
excruciating pain in my leg stopped me. “Oh.<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> God</span></i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Take it easy.” He put a hand on my shoulder again. “How
bad is it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Bad enough I’m not walking
out of here.” I fumbled to get my cell phone out of my pocket. “But I need to
find my—<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">fuck</span></i>.” I withdrew my hand, grimacing and wondering why
the fuck <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">that </span></i>hurt so bad too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You need to sit there and not move.” The authoritative
tone gave me pause. I looked up at him. Blood from his nose darkened the left
side of his light brown goatee.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Oh. Right. That’s why my hand
hurts.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I tried to flex my fingers, but . . . no. Shit. That wasn’t
good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Listen.” He kept a hand on my shoulder, dabbing at his
nose and mouth with his other glove. “I’m going to call an ambulance, but
there’s no way they’ll find you up here, so I’ll have to go down to the
trailhead to meet them. Will you be all right on your own?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I swallowed. My anger quickly deflated in favor of pain and
a million worst-case scenarios about Tsarina. Where was she? Was she all right?
There were two busy streets between the trailhead and the barn. Was she already
gone when my name hadn’t even dried on her papers yet? A lump rose in my
throat. A moment of recklessness, and now she could very well be—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hey.” The biker squeezed my shoulder. “Will you be all
right on your own? I’ll come back as soon as I can.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I nodded but didn’t say anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I heard him make the call.
Vaguely made out phrases like “horse fell on top of him” and “I’m pretty sure
he hurt his leg,” but I was listening to the wind, searching for some sign that
Tsarina hadn’t gone far. Some hoof beats. A quiet sneeze. Anything.<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> Give me something, Tsarina.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“They’re on their way,” he said after a moment. “ETA was
fifteen minutes or so, and the trailhead’s not far.” He paused. “Do you need a
jacket or anything?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It’s fucking June,” I
snapped. “Just<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> go</span></i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He hesitated, and I could
have killed him when he started unzipping the padded blue and white jacket—<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">matches your bike, how adorable.</span></i> He set it beside
me. “In case you need it.” Then he picked up his helmet off the ground. “I’ll
be back as soon as I can.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I nodded but avoided his eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He fired up the bike again, and a moment later, he was
gone. I was alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And in spite of the heat of the afternoon, I started
shaking. Fuck. I knew what was coming. I hadn’t been thrown too many times in
my life, but the post-fall adrenaline crash was hard to forget: that moment
when the initial panic was over, and the body had to do something with all that
pent-up energy. I took a couple of deep breaths but didn’t bother fighting it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
When the shakes hit, I desperately needed to walk off that
restless trembling, but I couldn’t. Not when I was ninety-five percent sure one
of my shaking legs was broken in at least two places.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It would pass. It always
did. Probably not as fast as I’d have liked, since I had to stay still instead
of walking, but it <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">would </span></i>pass.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I closed my eyes and took some more slow, deep breaths. My
heart was racing, another symptom of that crash, and I reminded myself over and
over that it would slow down, that there was nothing to freak out over, though
it was hard as hell not to freak out with a heart rate like that. My hands
shook in my lap. I just gritted my teeth and tried to hold my injured hand and
leg as still as possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I glanced at the biker’s jacket. It wouldn’t help; I was
shaking, not shivering. I wasn’t cold. Admittedly, though, I found some comfort
in the fact that he’d left it behind. Though I didn’t know a thing about
motorcycle equipment, it was well made, leather—probably expensive. Something
told me he wouldn’t leave it here and run for the hills. I didn’t know his
name, didn’t have his insurance information, and I’d punched him. He could have
disappeared and left me to find my own way home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But the blue and white jacket lying crumpled in the dirt
with a faint smear of blood on the collar was an unspoken promise that he
really would come back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I wasn’t cold, but I dragged the jacket a little closer
anyway. Carefully, I tucked it against my shaking knee to stabilize my injured
leg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The woods were almost completely silent. Wind rushed
through the leaves, the odd bird chirped from somewhere outside my line of
sight, but the forest was otherwise quiet. The motorcycle engine had faded into
nothing, and I couldn’t hear any sirens.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No horses, either.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I scrubbed my uninjured hand over my face, swearing softly
into the stillness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Ten years of dreaming. Three years of saving. Almost a full
year of searching for the perfect horse. Six and a half hours squirming behind
my desk.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And now this.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-66700722103995682142014-04-04T07:52:00.001-07:002014-04-04T07:52:10.192-07:00EXCERPT: Unhinge the UniverseTitle: Unhinge the Universe<br />
Author: Aleksandr Voinov<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Formats: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter 1</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">19 December 1944</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen braced for the impact just before he hit the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The moment his boots smacked the frozen earth, he tucked to
one side and tumbled across the snow. He’d opened the chute so low that the
impact jolted every bone in his body; risky, but still safer than sailing
against a night sky that might allow a sentry to take potshots at him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He stood and pulled the chute down, deflating it quickly to
a heap, freed himself from the harness, and shoved both the pack and the chute
beneath some bushes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
With his gear hidden and his limbs still tingling from the
impact, he marched. Thick clouds obscured the moon and stars, though what
little light there was illuminated the snow at his feet, making getting around
slightly easier. At least he might not twist an ankle or collide with a tree,
but knowing his location in relation to the rendezvous point would be trickier.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He listened, but heard no one nearby. So the others weren’t
in this part of the valley—that much he’d expected. The weather hadn’t been
ideal, and the pilot had likely scattered them all over the French countryside.
But they’d planned for this, and as long as Hagen reached the rendezvous point
within thirty-six hours, he wouldn’t be left behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He knew he was west of the rendezvous point, he just didn’t
know how far. He’d head east now—in part to cover ground, and in part to stay
warm—and would orient himself properly come sunrise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He chuckled softly as he
trudged across the dark, frozen landscape. Sieg was miles from here, no doubt
impatiently waiting for Hagen and the others, but Hagen could imagine how much
his brother must have grumbled and complained when he’d made the journey to the
rendezvous point. Majors did <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">not</span></i> march
through the snow in the middle of nowhere if they could help it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Leave that for the lower ranks, while the brass sat behind
the lines swapping war stories. Hagen gritted his teeth. Much as he’d hated
every single instructor he’d ever had with a cold passion, he was thankful to
them now. Coming down over enemy-held territory in the dead of night and having
to pick his way through thick forest was not something he’d have been prepared
to do if gentler men had trained him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Ironically, of all the instructors at the cadet school,
he’d only liked the university professor who was regularly invited to hold
guest lectures—his predilection to talk for hours about Aryan skull shapes and
a mythical homeland that had birthed all culture-bearing peoples had been
endearing, and had allowed many of the cadets to catch up on much-needed sleep,
which made him one of the favorites. Unlike his old school master, the
professor had never smacked his knuckles with the metal-reinforced wooden ruler
at school, either. Though knowing about Aryan facial features got you exactly
nowhere in the Burgundy countryside, especially in the gloomy half dark.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen rubbed his eyes. The mission had just begun. He
couldn’t possibly be so tired already that he was reminiscing about his
training days. But it did keep his mind off the cold and the many miles that lay
ahead, so why not? He’d been the last to jump—so he would likely be the last to
arrive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
When dawn broke, he paused to work out his exact position
with map and compass until he was sure where he was: a few miles away from the
remote village of Saint Michel at the other end of the valley. In spite of the
high winds during his jump, he’d landed reasonably close to where he was
supposed to. The pilot had told him he’d likely be miles off target, and he’d
been right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen hunkered down until he was shoulder-deep in
snow-covered brambles, frost melting away under white puffs of breath as he
took a short rest. His bones ached, his muscles burned, and his feet were numb
from miles of stumbling over roots and stones.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Smoke curled over the horizon. Wood fire, not coal, but he
couldn’t be sure if it was coming from a settlement or the remnants of an air
strike. Whatever the case, with fire on the wind, he’d have to be careful,
watching both the land around him and the sky. Bullets and bombs could come
from anywhere these days.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It didn’t help that the rush of adrenaline was beginning to
wear off, leaving the spikey sensation of the Pervitin pills that kept him
alert and ready to strike like a wild animal. He didn’t particularly like those
jitters—they made it hard to estimate how he’d react, even to himself, and he
was never sure if the price was worth being able to go so long without sleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He got going again, slower this time, joints crackling like
the frozen leaves and underbrush beneath his feet. He used what concealment the
territory provided—dips in the ground, mostly—until, sometime in the late
afternoon, the forest ended at a field.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A hedge provided more concealment but forced him to advance
along the dirt road leading up to a cluster of buildings nestled against the
hill opposite. It looked like an old mill with several outbuildings, some of
which had collapsed. Aware that he might be seen from the top floors of the
house, he rushed across the road, and kept his Luger drawn in case he needed to
deal with guard dogs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He crept along the hedge, sending more grateful thoughts to
the men who’d trained him in camouflage and survival when he found a good spot
next to a pile of lumber and observed the target building.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The rest of his unit should be waiting there, in the millhouse,
but he couldn’t take chances. He could have just walked up to the door if this
valley had still been German rather than enemy territory. Even if those inside
were friends, the rest of the countryside could be teeming with foes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">At least they aren’t Russians</span></i>, he reminded himself. After the stories filtering back
from the Eastern Front, that scarce comfort warmed him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He reached the corner of the fieldstone wall and found six
rocks in a triangular formation. Good. All six of the others had arrived. The
rocks pointed east, which meant the men hadn’t yet left.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Still, he crouched low, keeping his head down and his
pistol at the ready. Hagen cast a glance back, then slipped from beside his
cover to what was left of one of the surrounding outbuildings. No movement, no
sounds. That didn’t necessarily mean he was alone; a sniper could be waiting
for a clear shot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And of course, his own men would be vigilant. He needed to
wait until one of them came out to survey the area, which would be at
fifteen-minute intervals. Though he was looking forward to some warmth and
perhaps sleep after hours of trudging through the cold, he could wait a few
more minutes if it meant not taking a bullet from his own side.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Fifteen minutes passed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Twenty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Thirty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Something wasn’t right. Hagen pressed his back up against
the building and took off his helmet. He put it on the end of his rifle and
raised it so the brim was flush with the top of the wall.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nothing. Not a sound.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen swallowed. It wasn’t the Pervitin making his heart
race now. An enemy would have taken a shot. An ally would at least have seen
him. Recognized the helmet. Said something to someone. The men wouldn’t all be
sleeping, either. Even if they were, Sieg himself would have taken over sentry
duty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No one stirred.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen put his helmet back on
and slung the semiautomatic <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Gewehr</span></i> over his
back again. Pistol in hand, he got up and crept to the next building, this one
just a few meters from the central house where the other men had damn well
better have been waiting for him. He paused, listening to the smoke-scented
wind for any signs of life. Still nothing. Somewhere in the distance, plane
engines growled, and he almost expected to feel faint rumblings of explosions
reverberating through the ground and into his nearly frostbitten feet, if not
for the fact that the Americans’ morale-sapping air superiority had been ended
by General Winter and his trusty second, Colonel Frost. But here, on the
snow-covered land around this mill, silence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He took a deep breath and started across the last stretch
of ground toward the rendezvous point. Snow crunched under his boots, his
joints protested, but no bullets flew at him as he tucked himself up against
the wall between a dusty broken window and the wooden door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He threw a glance around the area, watching for any signs
he’d been followed and checking every window and possible perch for a rifle
barrel, the reflection of a rifle optic, the visible exhale of a sniper before
the shot. Then he leaned toward the broken window. He held his weapon up in
front of the glass. Waved it back and forth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Something was very, very wrong. Either the men were asleep,
criminally careless, or . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Holding his breath, he inched toward the window.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Looked through it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Oh,
verdammt.</span></i>” He spun away from the window and flattened himself
against the wall, eyes closed and breath coming in short, sharp bursts. He’d
imagined it. The darkness, the pills, the cold, the exhaustion, <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">something</span></i> was making him go mad.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He looked again. When he turned away this time, it was to
vomit into the snow. Twice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No one had taken a shot, and no one moved, so he was
presumably still alone, but at this point, he didn’t care if someone did shoot
him. He stood and moved to the door, which opened with one forceful kick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The overturned table, scattered playing cards. The toppled
chairs. Blood smeared, splattered, sprayed over more surfaces than not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And five bodies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They must have let their guard down. Been ambushed while
playing a game with the now bloody cards. And now all five of them were dead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Five? Not six? There were six stones by the wall, so there
should have been one more man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He picked his way through the room, not even trying to
avoid stepping in the pools of blood and brain. There wasn’t much left of the
first corpse’s face, and the rats had already started in on it, but there was
enough left for Hagen to be certain this wasn’t Sieg. Same with the next man.
And the next.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He checked every one of them
twice, but Sieg wasn’t here. He wasn’t a traitor. He hadn’t done this. Besides,
if he had, he was outnumbered, and the men would have fed <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">him</span></i> to the rats. Either he’d escaped, or he’d been
captured.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Or, Hagen realized when he saw the staircase in the corner
of the room, Sieg might be upstairs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen went up, but didn’t
expect to find anything. Certainly didn’t dare hope for Sieg to be lying in the
bed and gently snoring—the privilege of any officer, though Sieg was the type
to forego leisure and go through reports or fill out endless forms; but whether
his men had respected him the same way they’d have respected a <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">front pig</span></i> was anybody’s guess. Well, probably not.
Few would assume he’d earned the fencing scar on his face in battle. Maybe Sieg
had escaped. Maybe he was hiding. Or wounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen froze when the wooden steps of the staircase creaked
under his weight. His heart jumped into his throat and pounded against the
inside of his skull, and he paused to adjust the pouch holding his spare
magazines. Damn. With the dead below and the unknown in front of him, he
couldn’t decide what was worse. He wasn’t ready to see his brother dead, but he
also couldn’t leave without knowing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The first two rooms had been set up to serve as sleeping
quarters. Kit was strewn everywhere, wet socks strung up in a line in front of
small wrought iron stoves, the smell of wood and sweat and wet boots and wool
and unwashed bodies pathetically familiar. He continued to the last two doors.
A bathroom, the tub filled with water, cool, but not ice cold. It had probably
been boiling hot an hour or two ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
If he’d been faster, he might have walked straight into the
ambush.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A shaving kit caught his eye. The familiar razor had an
engraved stag antler grip and a print on the blade: Solingen. Sieg’s shaving
knife. That hit him deep in the stomach, making him cringe. Not proof of life.
Proof of nothing except that Sieg had been here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A memory flashed through Hagen’s mind, one of Sieg
receiving the kit as a gift from their father for all his hard work at school.
Ready to go to university.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Now you’re a man.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Not quite.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen shook his head and
folded the blade before sliding it into his pocket. Beside the place where he’d
found the razor was some French shaving soap. Probably something picked up in
Paris on leave. Lavender-scented. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Gott</span></i>, such trappings
of civilization just didn’t belong in a war.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He turned and spooked again when the floorboards creaked.
No one. Nothing. Just the house groaning in the cold wind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
There was still one last door. On his way to the closed
master bedroom, he searched the aged wood for trails of blood, and found a few
drops, dark and dry, but not very old. His heart beat faster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He reached for the doorknob, then froze. His brother might
be on the other side, pistol trained at the door, ready to fire at the first
sign of movement. It made no sense, didn’t feel likely at all, but Hagen still
called out, “Sieg? You there?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nothing. Silence as heavy and ungainly as the dead below.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He turned the knob and pushed through.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Empty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No, that wasn’t right. No one was here, but it was hardly
empty. An all too familiar black officer leather coat was draped like a
dis-substantiated body over a chair beside the shattered dressing mirror.
Sieg’s kit was strewn all across the floor: boots, the whetting stone for his
razor, a peaked officer’s cap. As if what little Sieg had carried had been
violently shaken out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And blood. Not a lot, but there were spatters here and
there. A smear on the dusty bedclothes, and a streak on the graying white wall.
Someone had been here recently, and when Hagen closed his eyes, he could see
the fight that must have ensued. A unit of Allied bastards overpowering his
brother? Sieg putting out a few of their teeth? There weren’t any teeth in the
mess on the floor, so hopefully the bastards had choked on them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Whatever had happened, it was over, and Sieg was gone.
Maybe alive, maybe dead, but gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen found Sieg’s leather briefcase open and discarded
under the bed. He picked it up, but there wasn’t a scrap of paper inside. Nor
was there anything in the black leather officer’s coat. No papers anywhere, and
what was Sieg without papers?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
You<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">r trade is bullets</span></i>, Sieg had once mocked him, <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">mine’s paper</span></i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Who could know what the Allied codebreakers now had in
their hands. Hagen himself didn’t know. It was sensitive enough information
that it could only be entrusted to the care of a high-ranking officer like
Sieg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen forced himself to breathe evenly against the
stress-fired panic swelling in his throat. His gaze caught on a toppled chair
near a heavy wooden wardrobe. He opened the doors wider, but the wardrobe was
empty. On the floor beside it, though, he found a book, open and facedown like
it too was as defeated as the men downstairs. Hagen picked it up and shook it
like an Allied soldier undoubtedly had just an hour or so ago, but nothing fell
from the pages.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He looked at the cover.
Homer’s <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Illiad</span></i>. His brother read Ancient Greek fluently, though
this was a Greek-German translation. It seemed like the most personal thing
here, as distinctly Siegfried as the razor. Hagen tucked the book into a
pocket, then righted the chair—why, he didn’t know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Paused.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Dust on the chair seat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen glanced up, frowned, and stepped on the chair, like
somebody had before him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He stretched, and there, on
top of the wardrobe—<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">papers.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Sieg, you tricky bastard.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He gathered the papers. They looked official, complex, and
encoded. He tucked them inside his jacket, right next to his body. It might not
be everything, but these were important enough to hide. The Allies had only
done a rush job, not bothering to comb the room for evidence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
At least Hagen didn’t leave with completely empty hands.
Though without the code . . . no, first things first.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He closed the door on the fight that had happened here, and
backed away from it. What now? Every man on this mission save Hagen was dead, and
even then, there were no guarantees.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Sieg would have waited for him. Maybe in another building
or outside, but he wouldn’t have left when he knew Hagen was on his way into
this. Not without arranging the rocks by the gate in a ring as a distress
signal. If he was gone, then he’d left against his will.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The mission had now become more complicated, but that was
all. The goal was still to find Sieg and get him to safety. Only now he had to
get him out of wherever the Allies had taken him first. Then he’d deliver Sieg
and the papers to their destination and then back home. Failure wasn’t an
option. This was family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter 2</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John slammed the door hard enough to nearly shake its frame
free from the building. The other men jumped, throwing each other wary looks
and glancing upward as if they expected the skeletal church to cave in on top
of them, completing the ruin of Saint Michel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What is the matter with you, you fucking idiots?” He waved
a hand at the door. “Why didn’t you run him over with a goddamned tank while
you were at it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Private Lawson showed his palms. “With all due—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Someone get me a medic.” John clenched his teeth. “Son of
a bitch needs help.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
One soldier turned and dashed off. The others stared at
John.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Massaging the bridge of his nose, John snarled, “I came all
this way to interrogate a prisoner, and you give him to me like this? What in
God’s name possessed you idiots to beat him within an inch of his life before
he’d had a chance to talk?” He glared at each of them in turn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
One of the men cleared his throat. “With . . . with all due
respect, sir, he wasn’t injured before. Not this badly.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John narrowed his eyes. “I’m assuming he didn’t do it to
himself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No.” The man swallowed hard. “This morning. When he was
transferred into our custody. H-he fought. Busted Private Manning’s nose and
gave—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I don’t want your goddamned excuses!” John glared at the
man. “I don’t give a damn if he was trying to fuck your mother. The information
he’s carrying is useless if you kill him. Is that clear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“S-sorry, sir.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Sorry.” John rolled his eyes. Apologies would not fix the
damage that had been done, nor would chewing these idiots out stop the clock
and keep the prisoner alive any longer. Exhaling hard, John went back into the
makeshift interrogation room in the church’s cellar. A couple of chairs. A
rickety table. A bare lightbulb suspended from the center of the ceiling by a fraying
cord.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And in one of the chairs, hands bound behind his back, was
the Nazi that he had rushed across a hundred miles of godforsaken backwoods
France to interrogate. With all the spies and saboteurs afoot, and German
troops still not breaking, Allied leaders were desperate for any intel they
could squeeze out of anyone who might have even the foggiest clue what was
going on behind the German line. That was the only reason the lieutenant
colonel had ordered the trip to this tiny scouting detachment. The sooner John
had his hands on the bastard, the sooner they’d get their information.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Nazi didn’t look good. Not just because of that gray
uniform—which did look better now that it had some blood down the front—but
because his face was almost the color of the metal table in front of him. His
head lolled to one side. Blood and spit ran from a corner of his mouth. How was
John supposed to get anything useful out of him? So far, all he’d gotten was a
name (likely a false one) and three German variations of “Go to hell, American
pig.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But the intriguing thing was
how far behind enemy lines he’d been captured. Burgundy had been liberated
three months ago. And while some pockets of German resistance remained, an
unattached <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Wehrmacht </span></i>major on a jaunt in
the French countryside made no sense.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
At the rate the color was leaving his face, there wouldn’t
be much time to get the answer out of him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John swore under his breath and paced back and forth. They
might as well have shot this one along with the others. Fucking morons. They
had no idea that a prisoner like this one needed to be handled carefully no
matter how belligerent he got. Officers carried orders, and thus, intelligence.
Intelligence they’d take with them if they were beaten to death by a bunch of
inept farm boys playing soldiers who—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Do you ever stop moving?” the Nazi asked in heavily
accented, slurred English.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I will when you start talking.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A single sniff of dry
laughter. “Then keep pacing, <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Armleuchter.</span></i>” He
spat blood on the floor, narrowly missing John’s boot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Armleuchter</span></i> was a weird one—generic word for idiot, compounded
out of “arm” and “chandelier,” so it made no sense whatsoever if taken apart.
Together, though, it formed an insult that was effective and oddly genteel.
Maybe there was a lesson there. The sum and its parts. John hadn’t managed to
get on an equitable footing with him. Even badly hurt, the Nazi had responded
with affronted pride at being handcuffed and disarmed, and protested the
excessively rough treatment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John glanced back at the Nazi major—newly minted; the man
was young, though he had earned three—count ’em, three—Iron Crosses, the
Germans’ main bravery award, signified by a ribbon on his jacket button and a
medal on his breast pocket. They all culminated in the Knight’s Cross situated
just under his throat. Not exactly a paper pusher, or at least not just that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“The more time you lose . . .” The Nazi regarded him coolly
from under heavy eyelids.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“By the looks of you,” John said, “you’ve got less time
than I do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Nazi started to speak, but the door opened, and one of
the camp’s two medics entered the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John pursed his lips. He gestured at the prisoner and
stepped back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The medic looked the Nazi over. Prodded his abdomen, which
pushed more half-strangled curses from the German’s bloody, paling lips. Then
he stood, faced John, and the grim expression confirmed everything he already
knew.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John led the medic out of the room. Safely on the other
side of the door, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “Can anything be
done?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The medic shook his head. Speaking even more softly, he
said, “He’s bleeding internally. You’re lucky you’ve had as much time with him
as you have. He’ll be dead within the hour.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John swore. He nodded, gestured that the medic was
dismissed, and went back into the room. “Good news, Kraut. Sounds like you’ll
pull through. Which means we have all fucking night to talk.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Nazi’s eyes strayed back across the walls, but the
cellar room had no windows. No way to measure time—just one of the many tricks
in the book to drive home the fact that he didn’t control his own fate anymore.
John had radioed ahead for the prisoner to be kept someplace dark until he
arrived. He just hadn’t expected the man to be in this condition.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“The things you call talking.” The German sounded drowsy,
weak, but maybe he wasn’t sharp enough anymore to notice how bad off he was.
Maybe he’d speak once his willpower slipped and he was too confused to remember
he wasn’t supposed to talk.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“The codebreakers are already working on the papers that
came in with you.” John folded his arms across his chest. “So why don’t—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Then why do you need me to talk?” Something glinted in the
prisoner’s eyes. Some knowing gleam that unsettled John, but he didn’t dare let
it show. The Nazi’s lips pulled back across blood-stained teeth. “If your
codebreakers are worth what you—” A deep, sickening cough interrupted him. He
spat blood again and glared up at John. “If they’re worth what you pay them,
they’ll know soon enough, won’t they?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John narrowed his eyes. “So
they’ll know soon enough that those are bullshit, decoy papers?” The flicker of
surprise in those glazed eyes told John exactly what he needed to know. Shit.
He’d had a feeling the papers were fake. No officer worth what they paid <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">him</span></i> would be so careless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You think I had time to . . . forge them?” The Nazi
swallowed, cheeks tensing and eyes tearing up as he fought what was likely
another one of those terrible coughs. “In the time it took them to slaughter my
men?” A mocking eyebrow went up, though the effect was ruined by the extent of
the bruising and the man’s white, nearly translucent flesh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I don’t think you needed time to forge them.” John stepped
closer, looming over the dying Nazi. “You’re no idiot, are you?” He reached for
the Knight’s Cross. “Not with one of these?” The German’s lips tightened, his
cheek rippling, and his eyes darkened in an unspoken “get your hands off that.”
John grinned and yanked sharply, ripping the medal free from the band it
dangled from.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He let it drop to the floor,
watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the German jumped at the sharp<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"> clang </span></i>of metal hitting stone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You had forgeries with you,” John said. “Didn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The German stared at the cruciform medal by his feet, eyes
unfocusing, as if he was looking through it to a place beyond. Where he’d
earned it, maybe, or when his commander had awarded it. Hell, with a major,
maybe he remembered a handshake and a pat on the back from the Führer himself.
He was young enough to be quite exceptional, from everything that John knew.
But coming up against the real thing—the real beast—John felt like he couldn’t
know enough about the Germans. Ever.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Despite</span></i> that
medal, you’re not stupid.” He stepped on the Knight’s Cross. “So you’re my
shortcut.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He let his words sink in, noticed the unhealthy gleam of
sweat on the waxy skin, which gave the thick scar on his cheek a sickly gleam.
The Nazi was still with him, though, still responsive. He hadn’t escaped yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You’re not stupid, either.” The Nazi’s voice sounded far
away. “Isn’t that impressive, how clever men are about killing each other? I
can’t help but . . . marvel at it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“And how clever are you about men killing each other?” John’s
patience waned at the same rate the German’s color drained from his face. “What
do you know, Nazi?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The prisoner laughed. It was the faint, dry sound of a
dying man who knew damn well he was dying, and knew that he was taking his
secrets to the grave no matter what John tried to do to convince him otherwise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John pinched the bridge of his nose. This was pointless.
The German wasn’t going to talk, and if he did, whatever information he
produced would probably be as reliable as whatever nonsense the codebreakers
pulled from those papers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Minutes passed. Another of those wracking coughs that left
the German gasping. It wasn’t his lungs that were going to kill him, just the
blood loss. Maybe he should call back the medic and ask for a transfusion. Buy
himself—and the German—more time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The German closed his eyes and seemed to struggle to keep
his chin up. His posture relaxed somewhat, like a drunk. It made John want to
kick him in the balls—not that that would help any.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“One thing, American.” With what must have been a hell of a
lot of effort, the German raised his head. “Do you listen?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John shifted his weight. “I’m listening.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Do you have a priest? Catholic?” He sneered at John. “We
are in a church, after all.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I can get one, yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">can</span></i>.” The Nazi’s pale blue lips quirked into a weird
little smile. “Will you bargain over my soul?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John slowly ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip.
He could bargain. He could dangle eternal damnation over this son of a bitch’s
head until the very last moment. But to what gain?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Tell me how you got here. I’ll call the priest.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Nazi looked down at his feet, head lolling forward. “We
hit bad weather. The pilot pushed south into France. We took enemy fire. The
plane went down. The pilot died in the crash. I radioed my position, asking for
help. It—” He coughed again. “It arrived.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
That might explain what he was doing in this part of
Europe—there had been reports of a small passenger plane crashing a few miles
to the west, and the dead pilot was another piece of intel that matched. John
itched to look at the wreckage. High-ranking officer traveling in secret,
running into bad luck, and then? Ironic he’d walked away from a plane crash
only to be beaten within an inch of his life by soldiers. But that didn’t
matter now. What was his mission? Who was this guy?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What was your destination?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Nazi didn’t respond.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John grabbed him by the throat, forced him to look up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You—promised.” He even felt like death to the touch, skin
cool and clammy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
With a sharp sigh, he
released the Nazi, went to the door and leaned out. “Get the priest. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Now.</span></i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes, sir.” Boots obediently started down the hall. “Get
Father Charpentier. The captain wants to see him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John faced the German again. “He’ll be here in a moment.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Thank you.” The German looked at him, eyes clearly unable
to keep focus. “It is getting . . . cold.” He mumbled in German, slurring to
the point that John couldn’t understand him. He trailed off. Then he shook his
head, probably lost his train of thought because he didn’t pick up the sentence
again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John wanted nothing more than to grab the Kraut by the
jacket and shake him until he gave up what he wanted, but the only thing coming
out of this prisoner’s mouth was more blood. As if for emphasis, the prisoner
coughed again, a deep, wracking sound that made John’s chest hurt just hearing
it. Blood mixed with spit ran down the man’s chin and onto his uniform. He
didn’t seem to care.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A quiet knock on the door turned his head. Father
Charpentier stepped in, a Bible tucked under his arm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John glanced at the Nazi, who didn’t seem to be aware of
anything, let alone the presence of the man he’d requested.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The priest’s lips pulled tight as he eyed the man in the
chair. Even a man of God probably couldn’t help but be tempted to commit grave
sins on a Nazi, especially when that man of God was all that remained of this
gutted French village. If the good Father gave in to that temptation now, God
Himself would probably turn a blind eye.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He looked at John, and John muttered, “He’s all yours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He left the priest to give the slumping prisoner his last
rites. Hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, he stormed out, avoiding
eye contact with any of the sentries. Or the men who’d been responsible for the
Nazi’s condition in the first place; they wisely didn’t approach him, or he’d
have put the first one to speak on the ground. And likely kept him from getting
up any time soon. Fuck being court-martialed; he’d just lost the most valuable
intel asset he’d gotten his hands on in weeks. The war was getting much too hot
in Belgium and the Low Countries to let valuable information slip between their
fingers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He stomped up the stone steps that led to the world above
where the winter wind snapped at his face. One of the drab green tents had been
set up right alongside the west wall of the stone church. Snow blew off the
camouflage netting, and John ducked his head to avoid getting it into his eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He leaned against the centuries-old stone wall and pulled
his cigarettes and matches from his pocket. The wind blew out the first match,
and John released a whispered curse and a cloud of breath as he lit a second.
This time, his hand kept the wind from the flame long enough for the cigarette
to catch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Get anything out of him?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The voice behind him sent a pleasant shiver through John,
and as he blew out a lungful of smoke, he turned to see Corporal
Bennett—Michael to John and no one else—coming across the snow-covered ground.
He was the only one here John knew, being the man John had handpicked to
accompany him from the base.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John brought the cigarette to his lips again. “Nothing
except blood and Nazi bullshit.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Michael laughed dryly. “It’s only been a few hours. You
have time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John grunted around the
cigarette. “I do. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">He</span></i> doesn’t.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh. Shit.” Michael stood beside John, face nestled into
the collar of his coat and hands tucked into his pockets. “After all this—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So what now? Any idea what he was doing all the way out
here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John shook his head. He blew a cloud of smoke out into the
freezing air. “I don’t get it. Said his plane crashed. Could have just run out
of fuel. But then it gets interesting: he’s alone, he tells them where he is,
and next thing, they send five paratroopers behind enemy lines to escort him
like he’s something special?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You think he is special, though, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Tapping his ashes over the snow, John eyed his friend.
“What makes you say that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“You’ve smoked that cigarette twice as fast as you usually
do.” Michael nodded toward the smoldering stump between John’s fingers. John
laughed quietly. He pulled in as much smoke as the cigarette had left, then
flicked it away, adding to the crude fairy circle of discarded butts that had
been accumulating since the unit had set up camp here. “You’re mighty observant.”
He pulled out a second cigarette. “You should be doing my job.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No, thanks.” Michael watched him light the smoke, and as
John took another long, deep drag, he said, “So what’s special about this guy?”
With a smirk, he added, “Or is that classified?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It was, John supposed. Or would be soon enough. But Michael
was good at keeping his mouth shut when he needed to. Open when he wanted to,
of course, John thought with a pleasant shiver, but shut when he needed to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He tapped more ashes onto the snow and kept his voice down.
“High ranking, for one thing. You don’t usually see majors in the middle of
France with that many medals and shit.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“A major?” Michael glanced around as if to make sure no one
was nearby. “Are you serious?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
John nodded. “And he’d have been tough to crack if he’d
lived. Would’ve taken some time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Think you could’ve done it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Maybe.” John shrugged. “The lieutenant colonel can’t spare
me for long, so I probably would’ve tried for a day or two before shipping the
Kraut off to one of the bases. Maybe hand him over to the British. Now those
boys don’t play nice.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Michael laughed, exhaling a thin white cloud. “And you do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“By comparison.” John brought his cigarette to his lips,
and just then he met Michael’s eyes and couldn’t help laughing. “Honest! I’m a
polite Southern belle compared to those assholes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll believe that when
I see it. And besides, polite Southern belles turn into vicious creatures if
you cross them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Well then”—John finally took that drag—“don’t cross them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Lesson learned, believe me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Smart man.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They exchanged a look, and even as the amusement faded, the
gaze lingered. But not too long. Much as John wanted to suggest finishing his
cigarette and then heading off to one of their racks for a while, they didn’t
dare. Not during daylight hours or on an installation this tiny, and not while
the camp commander was probably stomping around in search of the last man
besides Father Charpentier to talk to the battered Nazi.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
There’d be time for him and Michael later anyway. Since he
was an MP, Michael had been assigned to sentry detail as long as they were
here. He’d be in the guard shack all night. So would John.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He shivered again and pulled in another breath of smoke. At
least the day wouldn’t be a complete loss.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter 3</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen hadn’t been informed of any Americans in this
particular area during the briefing. Perhaps it was just a small unit, one that
had escaped detection. Larger numbers of troops would have been noticed, and
Hagen and his men would have made their landing elsewhere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
No matter. The Americans were here, and they had Sieg. And
they’d killed the others. He wished he’d had time to bury them, or at least . .
. make them decent, somehow. If anything about gaping skulls and the smell of
shit and piss and brains could be at all decent. What he’d done, in the end,
was all he could do—he’d taken one of the still-smoldering logs from the
fireplace with a pair of cast iron tongs and tossed it onto one of the beds.
Then he’d gone a safe distance and turned back to watch the old mill burn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Viking funeral pyre. It would have appealed to his
commanding officer, who fancied himself the reincarnation of the famous Viking
hero Ragnar Lothbrok.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But even better, the fire had attracted attention, and he’d
hunkered down behind the bushes as the Jeeps rushed past. Three, and they’d
gotten here quickly. So he knew at least one thing: The base was very close.
Close enough to reach on foot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Once he couldn’t hear the engines anymore, he broke into a
trot and ran beside the road, following their tracks in the snow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
They led him to a small
camp, arriving at dusk. Before he could plan his attack, though, a unit of
Americans drove out of the camp again, and they had Sieg with them. His brother
was alive, thank <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Gott</span></i>, and Hagen followed this Jeep’s
tracks down miles of country road.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The Pervitin kept him going through the night, but he felt
exhaustion waiting around the edges. He was jittery, but he couldn’t risk
stopping to rest. If more snow fell, or more vehicles came down this road, he’d
lose Sieg. So he followed the tracks, heart hammering between his ears with
worry and fear and anger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Occasionally, he’d pause to collect his bearings, to ensure
he hadn’t lost the track. But whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the blood
spatters on the whitewashed walls. The memory of his brother. The taste and
echo of violence in that room. And then he’d continue.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It was just after noon when he reached the next camp. This
one was even tinier than the last, consisting of little more than a flock of
green tents hidden beneath snow-dusted camouflage netting around an old church,
one of those stone ones that had likely been here for a thousand years. Under
that netting, a Jeep with fresh tracks in the snow leading up to its tires.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Around the camp’s perimeter,
four small guard shacks had been erected, each little more than a hut or a
lean-to constructed from found materials. This was a camp meant to support a
few men. A forward base, and recent. The church was a wise choice of locations:
slightly elevated from the surrounding territory, unassuming and abandoned
enough that it wasn’t likely to be bombed by a roving <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Luftwaffe </span></i>battle pilot. If anybody could spare
pilots for such minor tasks. Just a few short years ago, the <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Luftwaffe</span></i> had reigned supreme in these same skies,
every enemy a fair target to the wrath of eagles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen’s gaze drifted over the church again. The damaged
roof, the broken windows. Cracked stones and walls in danger of crumbling.
Still a church nonetheless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He couldn’t help a small
laugh. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">You always said that, SS or not, you’d draw me back into the
church one day, didn’t you, brother?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Not yet, though. Hagen ducked back into the forest,
planning to stay behind the tree line until nightfall. One against dozens
needed the element of surprise and cover of darkness, so even though impatience
gnawed at him, he forced himself to stay low and still.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He nibbled some tasteless rations to keep his strength up.
As the sun sank behind the leafless trees on the other side of the camp, he
took another Pervitin too. He’d need to rest soon—the pills would only keep him
going for so long—but first: Sieg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Watching from a distance, he memorized the guard change
rotation and the foot patrols’ timing. Once he made his move, he’d have a
window of about seven minutes to neutralize a stationary sentry before another
patrol went by. Plenty of time to dispatch one of these children the Americans
called soldiers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
With darkness covering him, he inched closer to the nearest
guard shack. That sentry was alert and kept sweeping glances over the ground
Hagen needed to cross. Every few minutes, he’d even come outside and check the
perimeter of his shack. He was probably one of the wild-eyed young types, bored
with the monotony and itching for a fight. Hagen would stand out too much against
the snow to escape detection by one paying that much attention. Creeping
through the underbrush, he moved toward the next guard shack.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
That sentry wasn’t quite as alert as the first, but still
aware. They’d all been on shift for a few hours now; fatigue would be setting
in. One of them had to be nodding off by now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
At the third shack, Hagen grinned. The sentry was alert and
even a little agitated, but he wasn’t watching his assigned terrain. Whatever
had the sentry’s attention, it wasn’t the landscape or Hagen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen waited for the next foot patrol to go by. The man
stopped and exchanged a few words with the sentry, then they both chuckled, and
the patrol continued his rounds. As soon as the patrol was a few safe meters
away, Hagen emerged from his cover and crept toward the shack.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He pressed himself up against the wall beside the door.
Looked around to make sure an ambitious foot patrol wasn’t ahead of schedule.
When he was sure he was alone except for the distracted sentry, Hagen tapped on
the door with his knuckles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Movement on the other side. Hagen adjusted his grip on his
pistol and held his breath, listening to every motion approaching the door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The lock clicked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The door opened.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Didn’t expect you so—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen grabbed the sentry, clapping a hand over his nose and
mouth, and dragged him into the shack. He snapped the sentry’s neck with a
single, swift movement and let the body crumple to the floor as he toed the
door shut behind him. He blew out the breath he had somehow kept deep in his
lungs, still feeling the echo of the sickening crunch of bones.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Pathetic. They believed they could win this war with barely
trained troops. He turned the body over and smiled. Lucky, for once. Of all the
sentries, this one resembled him most in build and, near as he could tell in
the low light, coloring. He’d half expected more blacks, but this one would do
very nicely.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen leaned his rifle against the wall and began to strip
the corpse, keeping all senses alert, the sleep inhibitor thrumming through his
nerves. As unwieldy as a body was, he’d helped dress enough stone-drunk
comrades during his training—or rather, the rare and illegal trips to the
nearby village to score drink and, for those who wanted it, a pair of warm arms
to succor a heroic Aryan or two—that he proved surprisingly adept at this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He removed his conspicuous SS jacket and trousers, and
slipped into the enemy uniform. The other man’s boots were thankfully too large
rather than too small, but much newer than his own.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
After five years of war, the
quality and newness of the American’s equipment struck him. Never mind that he
wasn’t supposed to wear any of it. Well, maybe wear it, if it was useful, but
he remembered his officer’s grave words that if he f<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">ought </span></i>in
enemy uniform, he lost all protection under the laws of war: <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Wear them on top, men, but strip them when the shooting starts.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He slipped Sieg’s papers under his jacket and shirt,
keeping them against his skin at the small of his back. The American’s belt would
hold them in place. He then dressed the corpse in his own uniform, which might
very well buy him more time once it was discovered. Especially if he dragged
the body out into the woods and dumped it there. Which he would after the next
foot patrol went by.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He eyed his own rifle for a moment. Though he didn’t intend
to let himself get captured, he’d have to leave the gun here for a time, and it
might be discovered. Orders were orders. No functioning semiautomatic rifles
could fall into enemy hands. Besides, he still had his Luger, and this sentry
wouldn’t need his M1 again anytime soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He set the butt of his <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Gewehr</span></i> on the ground and held the barrel just
below the muzzle. He braced his foot against the stock, held his breath as he
listened for any footsteps nearby, and when he was sure no one was close, he
shoved his weight against the stock, snapping off the butt and rendering the
weapon useless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
For the moment, he shoved the broken gun and the limp body
up against the wall and assumed the sentry’s position, M1 at the ready and
searching the forest for intruders. Outside, boots crunched on snow. Hagen’s
heart fell into sync with the footsteps, and he lowered his chin a little to
make sure that when he came into view, shadows covered as much of his face as possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A soldier appeared from Hagen’s right and paused in front
of the guard shack. “Got any smokes?” he asked. “I just smoked my last.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen cleared his throat, grateful he was well practiced in
speaking with an American accent. He’d never have thought the few years spent
as a child with his aunt’s family in America would end up being so useful.
Well, “useful” in being taken out of his unit that had been destined for the
Eastern Front and joining legendary Otto Skorzeny’s SS commandos on the Western
Front. Considering how rare that skill was, he had by now forgiven his English
teacher at school who’d mocked him for his “unrecognizable cowboy speech.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Only have two left to hold me until morning. Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Damn.” The soldier shrugged, his gear creaking and
rattling with the motion. “I’ll see if Landon’s got any.” He gestured with his
gun. “Stay warm in there, buddy.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Right. You too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
As soon as the soldier’s footsteps faded into the distance,
Hagen knelt beside the body. He pulled one of the limp arms around his
shoulders, and—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Froze.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Footsteps.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Approaching, but from the wrong direction. He looked over
his shoulder, furrowing his brow at the closed door as if he could see through
to whoever was coming. Possibly a higher-up checking on one of his lax sentries.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Verdammt</span></i>. Hagen dropped the corpse’s arm and nudged the body as far
into the shadows as he could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The footsteps stopped outside. Hagen swallowed. Then came a
sharp but quiet series of taps, like a crude imitation of Morse code, but
meaning nothing. He double-checked that his pistol was ready to be drawn at a
moment’s notice, and then unlocked the door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It opened, and another soldier slipped past him into the
shack. Hagen’s heartbeat shot up. The soldier was centimeters from the dead
sentry.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’ve needed this all day,” came a coarse, exhausted voice,
and a hand appeared from the shadows and landed on Hagen’s waist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen stepped back, but the other man followed, and before
he could make sense of this bizarre ambush, Hagen was pressed against the
flimsy wall with another man’s mouth—tobacco, coffee, stubbled chin—against
his. His hands hovered uselessly in the air for a few seconds. Shove him away?
Shoot him? Grab on and enjoy—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What the hell?” The other man abruptly stepped back. “What
is . . .” He furrowed his brow in the low light. “You’re not—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen hit the man in the gut, doubling him over. He drove a
fist into his back, and the intruder dropped to his knees.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What the fuck is going—oh
my God. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Michael?</span></i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen reached for his gun, but a fist slammed into the side
of his leg. He swore as his knee buckled, and the soldier flew upward, shoving
Hagen against the wall with an entirely different kind of force than before,
nearly toppling the flimsy hut.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I need some help in here!” the American shouted into the
night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Shit! Hagen’s amped-up pulse slowed to a trickle of icy
slush in his veins. He knew that he had no time to strangle the man, so he
grabbed the stolen rifle and swung it like a medieval club. The man ducked so
the butt only glanced off his temple, but it was enough to send him to his
knees. Hagen spat a toneless curse, aware that he could stand and fight, or
run. Maybe the others hadn’t heard the shouts. Maybe he could talk his way out
of here. Maybe if he just ran he could try again later.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But after they found these two, security would be tighter
than a nun’s thighs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Attack is the best defense.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Shooting the American would draw the attention of any
soldiers who hadn’t already heard the cry for help, so he left the man crumpled
beside the other corpse and exited the hut, loaded pistol in his belt and the
M1 in his hands. He moved swiftly toward the church structure, ducking into
shadows to avoid the guards running toward the sentry hut.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He had a few minutes to find Sieg. Maybe only moments. They
might both already be as good as dead, but he’d thought that a few times
already.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Hey, it’ll make a good story at
a party</span></i>, one of his comrades would say
now. Pity that the same comrade had died attempting to take a ride on an enemy
tank on the Eastern Front. They’d been trained for courage—ancient heroes made
flesh. Single-handedly attacking a tank, never mind an American base without
backup, was just the kind of story that might be told back home when the Allies
had been driven back into the ocean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Not that any of that mattered right now, because they had
Sieg.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He shouldered open a heavy door and wandered through what
must have once been the sanctuary to a narrow hallway, passing makeshift doors.
He ground his teeth, biting back even a whispered “Sieg?” Tempting though it
was, the only response would likely be a bullet through his brain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hey!” Someone grabbed his arm, and Hagen very nearly took
the man down before a sharp, “There’s an alarm sounding! Get out there!”
reminded him what uniform he was in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’ve got orders.” Hagen gestured past him. “To get the
prisoner.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The other soldier stiffened, eyeing him in the darkness.
“Then what the hell are you doing in here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Right. Of course.” Hagen forced a laugh. “I was . . .”
What? “I was told to come in here. Where am I—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Fucking moron.” The soldier
shoved Hagen back toward the entrance. “Now get back out there before you <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">join</span></i> the fucking prisoner.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen didn’t have much choice, when the other man followed
him outside. The tiny base was in chaos. Shouts and footsteps thundered in from
the direction of the guard shack where he’d left the two soldiers. Shit. Not
good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen ducked his chin into his collar and started to the
right, opposite the approaching men, but the soldier caught his arm again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“What’s the matter with you?” He shoved Hagen again, this
time forward. “Now follow me, you fucking idiot.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yes, sir.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The soldier threw him a puzzled look, but shook his head
and continued around the other side of the building. Hagen waited until they
had a few meters between them, and then he followed the soldier.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“There! That’s him!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The shout turned Hagen around. Behind him, three sentries
carrying rifles jogged behind a fourth man. The blood streaming from that man’s
temple brought more curses to Hagen’s lips. He should have shot the son of a
bitch when he’d had the chance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen turned after the other soldier again and sprinted
across the slick frozen ground. Too late, though. Soldiers came at him from all
directions. Closed in on him. Surrounded him. He reached for his pistol, but
half a dozen rifle barrels were suddenly at eye level.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Heart pounding, he let go of the pistol. He laced his hands
behind his head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The man with the bleeding temple stepped in between a pair
of the soldiers, murder in his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen’s eyes narrowed. Rage pulsed inside him like
something alive. That bastard stood between him and Sieg, and if not for all
the soldiers, he could have wiped the ground with him. “I’m death,” he said,
coldly. “Yours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Death?” The American snorted. “You must be mistaken.
Because this”—he gestured at the ring of rifles—“looks a lot more like death to
me.” He inclined his head. “Give me one good reason not to let them unload
every fucking round into you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen held his gaze but didn’t answer. He spat at the
American’s feet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Something flickered across the American’s expression. The
menace in his tight lips diminished just slightly, and an unspoken thought
pulled his eyebrows closer together. “What’s your name, Kraut?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Hagen laughed dryly. “Pick
one. Maybe <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Tod</span></i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Todd?” The American released an impatient breath and
dabbed at the blood on his temple. “You know what? I don’t have time for this
tonight. We’ll talk in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Will we?” Hagen asked. “I
wasn’t planning on staying, but <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">danke</span></i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Eyes still locked on Hagen, the American made a sharp
gesture. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere anytime soon. But don’t fucking kill
this one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">This one?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Panic and fury shot through Hagen, but before he could make
a move, the Americans lowered their rifles, and the ring tightened like a
hangman’s noose around him. Fists. Boots. Cold, hard ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And just before darkness became deep, deep black, the
American’s words echoed in Hagen’s mind:<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">“But don’t fucking kill this
one.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-37570986933557789602014-04-04T07:49:00.000-07:002014-04-04T07:49:03.496-07:00EXCERPT: It's Complicated (Tucker Springs)Title: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/tuckersprings.html#complicated">It's Complicated</a></i> (Tucker Springs #7)<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Formats: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Chapter One</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Brad</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">I thought I was nervous on our
first date.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Which I had been. God, I’d been a wreck. But tonight?
Sitting outside the restaurant, drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel in
between texting with my friend Nathan, nervous wreck didn’t even begin to
describe it. Four years, a few breakups, and a year of struggling to work
things out had led up to tonight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Even if things don’t go
perfectly, Nathan sagely said via yet another text, so what? You guys have been
trying too long to fix it for one night to screw it up.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He was probably right. If one night could blow this thing
out of the water, we’d have been history a long, long time ago. Assuming, of
course, this didn’t turn out to be the straw that broke the camel’s—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Don’t think like that</span></i>, I reminded myself again and again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I wrote back to Nathan: OK. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">He’ll be here shortly. I’m heading in.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
My thumb hovered over the button, as if the text committed
me to getting out and going in, but then I bit the bullet and hit Send. As soon
as the message was gone, I stepped out of the car, straightened my jacket, and
headed inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I hadn’t been here before. Neither had Jeff. We’d both
agreed it would be fitting to start over in a new place, on unfamiliar ground—a
fresh start in every way possible. And besides, it wasn’t like we could go to
the restaurant where we’d had our first date. Just last year, it had been
demolished to make way for a hipster bistro with a vegan menu and poetry slams.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
So we’d agreed on the Whitewater Grill. Nathan said his
boss had insisted it was good and that the prime rib was utterly spectacular.
Guess we’d find out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The restaurant was dimly lit, almost completely dark except
for flickering candles on every small, intimate table. It wasn’t coat-and-tie
formal, but it was upscale enough I was glad I’d opted for a jacket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A pretty brunette in a crisp, white shirt smiled at me from
behind the hostess’s podium. “Can I help you, sir?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I— Yes. I have a seven o’clock reservation for two.” When
had my mouth gone dry? “Brad Sweeney.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
She found the reservation and took me to a table on the far
side of the restaurant by the windows, promising to send Jeff over as soon as
he arrived. After she’d gone, I opened one of the leather-bound menus, scanning
the entrées in between glancing at the front door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
My phone vibrated. This time, the message hadn’t come from
Nathan.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">I’m on my way. Will be about 15
min late.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Fifteen minutes? Not bad.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">I’m here,</span></i> I sent back. Should I order wine?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
A minute or so later: <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Get something red. :-) Be there shortly.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I smiled and reached for the wine list. So he really was on
his way. Otherwise, he’d have told me to wait. He’d be here soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Oh God. He would be here soon, wouldn’t he?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I took a gulp of ice water. When the waitress came by, I
ordered a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. And a refill of water. Another after
she’d brought and presented the wine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I closed my eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. I was
overreacting. It wasn’t like this was a first date with a stranger who might be
nothing like the description from his online profile or by a well-meaning
mutual friend. We knew each other. Hell, we already knew each other’s
irritating quirks and habits. There was no need for first-date bravado and
being on our best behavior, even if my fluttering stomach begged to differ.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
If anything, this was just a formality. Going out to dinner
to mark the first night of trying again. So, no pressure or anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Nope, no pressure at all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Fuck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
The air in the room changed with the opening and closing of
the front door. I looked, and my God, he was here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
It was a damned good thing
my—our—table was on the opposite side of the room. I needed a moment to get
used to him, and it wasn’t only because of my nerves. Not this time. We weren’t
here for a confrontation, and seeing him like this, as my date and not my
adversary, took me back to the night we’d met. As he crossed the crowded room,
a black blazer hugging his shoulders and a pair of tight jeans hugging his
hips, he was every bit the blond-haired, blue-eyed piece of eye candy who’d
nearly caused me drop my drink at that party a few years ago. A little bit
nervous, a little bit cocky, and a whole lot of <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">oh fuck,
please tell me I’m not imagining him.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
When he was a few steps away, I stood, not even sure what
the protocol was here. A platonic handshake as if we really were strangers? A
hug? Fuck, I really sucked at this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff smiled and, without any hesitation at all, put his
hand on my waist and kissed my cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I laughed in spite of my nerves. “You’re always late.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
His cheeks colored in the low light. “I really did mean to
be here on time, though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I shrugged and gestured for him to sit. As we took our
seats, I said, “Stuck at the shop?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yeah. But we’re training Tim up to be our new assistant
manager, so hopefully that won’t be happening as much anymore.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">One can hope, right?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Our eyes met, and we both smiled. Then we picked up our
menus and perused them, even though I’d already been through it seventy-eight
times and knew exactly what I wanted. At least it was something to do while I
got my head around Jeff being on the opposite side of the table.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff settled on something, and we both closed our menus.
When the waitress came back, we ordered, and then she was gone . . . with the
menus, which left us with nothing to distract us but a bottle of wine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Where the hell to start, anyway? We’d hit the ground
running on our actual first date, talking from the moment we sat down until the
manager kicked us out thirty minutes after closing. Tonight? Crickets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So.” Jeff cleared his throat. “I, uh, guess we don’t have
to go through the motions of hobbies, favorite movies, and all of that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I laughed. “No, I think we’ve got that pretty well
covered.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yeah, we do.” His eyebrows
flicked upward. The unspoken question didn’t help the nervousness in my gut: <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">So what do we talk about?</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
As the flickering candlelight played on his features, we
locked eyes. It was weird to see him like this. For the last few months, every
dinner we’d shared had been in the name of keeping this thing alive, and the
tension had been reminiscent of a treaty negotiation. Tonight, though, we were
here on different terms. But where the hell did we start?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So how are things at the shop?” I wasn’t crazy about
discussing work over dinner, especially that fucking shop, but it was
something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff ran a finger along the edge of the placemat. “Busy.
And it’s been a little crazy since I started adjusting my hours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh yeah? How is that going?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He shrugged. “It’s going. I’m training one of the guys to
handle—” He dropped his gaze, laughing a little as his cheeks flushed. “I
already said that, didn’t I?” Before I could respond, he cleared his throat.
“Anyway, Tim’s picking up more responsibilities, and I’ve even been eating
lunch at my desk so I can still get things done.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Jeff.” I eyed him. “Cutting your hours doesn’t mean
cutting out all your breaks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He shook his head. “No, it’s not that bad. I just catch up
on emails and invoices. Stuff like that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“As long as you’re not killing yourself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I’m not.” He smiled. “I promise. I’m scaling things back.
Though cutting my hours has been weird. Not bad, but weird.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“So Christine didn’t mind it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff shook his head. “No, she understood. In fact, she’s
doing the same thing. I mean, I could never in a million years convince her to
work less than a sixty-hour week, but she’s got an ironclad day off every week
now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“That’s good to hear. She needs it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“She does. And once Tim is ready, she and I can scale back
more.” His forehead creased. “It’ll take some time, but I’m trying. I promise.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I know.” I smiled. “You can’t completely rearrange your
life overnight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff’s long workdays had been one of many bones of
contention, and God bless the man, he’d been making a hell of an effort to
spend less time at work. A huge time commitment came with the territory of
owning a business, which I absolutely understood, but even he agreed we stood a
better chance at making this work if he wasn’t coming home at midnight and
leaving again at six.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He reached for his wineglass. “So what’s going on with—
What the hell?” He shoved a hand into his pocket, and as soon as he’d pulled
out his phone, I recognized Christine’s distinctive ringtone. Glaring at the
screen, he muttered, “Goddamn it, Chris. Seriously?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I picked up my own glass and slowly swirled my wine. “If
you need to take it, go ahead.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff shook his head and declined the call. “No. I want my
job to interfere less with us. That starts tonight.” He fiddled with the phone
again, probably putting it on silent, and put it back in his pocket.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“But what if Christine—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“No.” Jeff put up a hand. “She knows. She understands.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Except she just tried to call you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Whatever it is, she’ll handle it.” He cracked one of those
sly grins that had always made me weak. “And if nothing else, she’ll yell at me
when I go in on Sunday.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I laughed. “I have no doubt about that.” We both knew she
wouldn’t really yell at him—no other ex-spouses on the planet, business
partners or not, could calmly hash things out like Jeff and Christine—but she’d
certainly let him know if she was unhappy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Anyway.” Jeff’s hand made it all the way to his wineglass
this time. “As I was about to ask before we were rudely interrupted, how are
things at work?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh, you know. The usual retail shit. Though the other day
. . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">***</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Just like on our first date, we kept talking until long
after the food was gone. Wrapped up in each other, enjoying this easy, relaxed
conversation after months on end of fighting and cold silences, neither of us
seemed to be in any hurry to stop.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I didn’t want the night to be over. In part because it was
so good to be like this with Jeff again, but admittedly, there was a little
more to it than that. We were in a weird place between dating and not, between
something completely new and something we’d long ago broken in, and neither of
us really knew the rules. We’d eventually figured out how to start the evening,
but how in the world did we end it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
First dates were usually something to play by ear. A kiss?
A handshake? A blowjob in the backseat? Waking up together the morning after?
That was half the fun of a first date—anything was possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff and I, though, we had to handle things a little more
delicately. Aside from a brief, platonic embrace each time we’d said good-bye,
and that kiss on the cheek earlier, we hadn’t touched in months. Sex blurred
lines and complicated everything. I didn’t want to fall into bed with him and
risk the temptation of sticking around just because the sex was good, so we’d
kept each other physically at arm’s length while we tried to get closer
emotionally. We had both stayed in miserable relationships because we enjoyed
the sex, and we’d both regretted it. Not this time. No sex until we’d worked
the kinks out of everything else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But holding each other’s gazes across the table, chuckling
over the rims of our wineglasses as we leaned over the places where our plates
had been a couple of hours before, I was tempted. Holy fuck, I was tempted. I’d
forgotten how his blue eyes could make my head spin faster than the wine in my
glass could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
And when he reached across the table and put his hand over
mine, the effect was like a magnet to a hard drive. My mind went completely
blank. Whatever we’d been talking about just then—gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff looked down at our hands and quickly withdrew his.
“Sorry,” he muttered and went for his wineglass.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Don’t be.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“It’s okay.” I smiled and hoped to God he couldn’t hear my
pounding heart and that he hadn’t suddenly developed X-ray vision that would
let him see through the table and to the effect that simple touch had had on
me. “Old habits die hard, right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Yeah.” He laughed, though it sounded forced. “Guess they
do.” He broke eye contact, cleared his throat, and glanced at something behind
me. “I think we’d better go.” He chuckled. “Our waitress has checked her watch
about six times in the last five minutes. I think the poor girl wants to go
home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Oh. Is it that late already?” According to my cell phone,
it was almost eleven. “Wow. Yeah, I guess we should go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff flagged down the waitress and asked for the check, and
while we waited, he faced me again and smiled. “I guess this is the part where
I tell you I had a good time and nervously ask if we can do this again?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I smirked. “Does that mean it’s the part where I act all
coy and tell you to call me later this week so you have to figure out where the
line is between too soon and too late?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff laughed, which didn’t do much to unscramble my
thoughts. “To be serious, I think tonight was a good start. We really should,
um, do this again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“We should.” Relief rushed through me, even though his
comment brought to life a whole new set of nerves. Yeah, we’d pulled this off
once, passed with flying colors and not fucked things all up again, but could
we swing it a second time? Only one way to find out. “My evenings are free when
I’m not working a closing shift. Tell me when and where.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“We’ll make it happen.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
We split the check and each left a generous tip to make up
for occupying the table for so long. The manager locked the door behind us
after we’d stepped outside, and Jeff and I walked in silence down the wooden
stairs to the mostly deserted gravel lot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
We were halfway to our cars—his truck was parked two spaces
over from my Camry—when he stopped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I stopped too and faced him,
thinking he might’ve forgotten his keys or his phone inside. Wouldn’t be the first
time, and a little playful nostalgia brought a smile to my lips as I remembered
that running joke. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">What’d you forget this time?</span></i> I
almost asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
But then I realized he wasn’t searching his pockets, and he
wasn’t looking anywhere except right at me. As he drew in a deep breath, one of
those slow and deliberate ones that meant he was about to say something, my
stomach somersaulted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Listen, I . . .” His eyes flicked toward the ground
between us, then met mine again. “I meant what I said in there. I really do
want to see you again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I swallowed. “Me too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he shifted his weight.
“There’s another new place down by the university. Indian restaurant. I, um,
I’ve heard it’s pretty good. Maybe we could give it a try?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I think I’ve heard about the one. Let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“When’s good for you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">The sooner the better.</span></i> I tried not to fidget, but it was a struggle. “How
does your weekend look?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I need to work on Sunday, but otherwise . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“This is my weekend off. Maybe we could try that place
tomorrow night?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Good idea.” He smiled. Then faltered a little. “So, for
tonight, do we . . .” He broke eye contact and cleared his throat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“Hmm?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
Jeff pushed his shoulders back and met my eyes again.
“Since we’re starting over and this is technically our first date, does that
mean we get another first kiss too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
All the air left my lungs. “I, uh, guess we get to make our
own rules. If we want one, then . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He held my gaze. Then he narrowed the space between us by
half a step, ratcheting my pulse upward. “Then maybe I’m asking the wrong
question.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I gulped. “So what should you be asking?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
His hand entered my peripheral vision, nearing my face slowly,
cautiously, and I couldn’t look anywhere but right at Jeff until his fingertips
brushed my cheek and I closed my eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
“I guess I should ask . . .” His thumb drew a gentle arc
across my cheekbone. “I should . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
I opened my eyes and met
his. <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Just ask. I promise I’ll say yes.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He didn’t ask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
He drew me in, pressed his lips to mine, and turned my
world on its ass.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-7680790801126548532014-04-04T07:46:00.001-07:002014-04-04T07:46:36.283-07:00EXCERPT: Hostile GroundTitle: <i><a href="http://riptidepublishing.com/titles/hostile-ground">Hostile Ground</a></i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt, Aleksandr Voinov<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
Formats: ebook, paperback<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Chapter
One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The bass vibrated through Mahir’s bones as a pair of bouncers led
him along the staff-only corridor in the nightclub. He caught a line of the
rock lyrics—</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">tough luck, tough guy</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">—and thought it ridiculously fitting. He was already seeking
conclusions and grasping at nothing, like that meth head from last week who had
received messages through the TV, convinced that God spoke to him on the
shopping channel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He walked between two
goons who’d hopefully soon be his colleagues, trying not to appear too eager or
too relaxed. Saeed, his cover identity, would be alert, but he also needed to
radiate competence. He must’ve done a good job of it to have made it this far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The goon on his left
rapped on the last door of the corridor. The door opened, and the goon waved
him in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The room was half supply
cabinet, half office. Boxes piled high against the wall. A water cooler looked
out of place between the Formica table and cheap folding chairs. There was only
one man in the room, and he stood off to the side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He was taller than Mahir,
though not by much. Just enough that he’d have to look up a little if they were
ever standing face-to-face, which Mahir hoped didn’t happen anytime soon. That
wasn’t to say the guy was unattractive. Well dressed, well groomed, dark hair
arranged perfectly, and tailored shirt and slacks crisp and smooth. He was
slimmer than most of the guys working in this ring but certainly not lacking.
His white sleeves were rolled to the elbows, showing off strong, sinewy muscle.
And if his forearms were that cut, Mahir could only imagine what the man was
hiding under the rest of his clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">It didn’t help that Mahir
knew this guy played for his team. If he was the head of Lombardi’s security,
he was gay. They all were. That was how Lombardi kept his men from fucking with
his girls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Yeah, he was gay and he
was attractive, but there was an air about him that made Mahir more than happy
to stay on the opposite side of the room. The guy radiated a menacing
intensity. A focused, predatory aura that pulled all of Mahir’s nerves taut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The room was dim, lit only by a single weak bulb over their heads,
but the still, silent man wore sunglasses. Dark ones. The slightest motion of
his eyebrows said he was looking Mahir up and down. Mahir had seen guys like
this before. Some were just douche bags who wanted to look like gangster
badasses or action-movie leads, but then there was this kind: the guy who
didn’t like people looking him in the eye. It probably unnerved the shit out of
most people, and Mahir had a feeling that effect was </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">not</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> accidental.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Question was, how much of
this was a test? Was Mahir supposed to be intimidated and unsettled or look
this guy straight in the eyes—well, lenses—and not back down?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The butt of a high-caliber
handgun stuck out of a shoulder holster beneath the man’s arm. He didn’t play around.
Working for a notorious pimp who was likely also a high-powered drug dealer
meant he didn’t have to play by the same rules Mahir did. Passing whatever test
he was currently taking wasn’t optional.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Deep, even breaths. “You
must be David Ridley.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“And who the fuck are
you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir swallowed. The guy’s voice was smooth but sharp at the same
time. He’d probably sound sexy as hell if every word wasn’t laced with </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">give
me a reason not to shoot you.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I was told you were
expecting me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’m expecting someone.”
The guy raised his chin, drawing Mahir’s attention to the flawless lines of his
jaw and throat. “You might want to introduce yourself before you start asking
questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’m Saeed.” Social
protocol suggested he should extend a hand, but he didn’t. Probably best to let
this guy call the shots. “I was hired by—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You Arab?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir gritted his teeth.
That didn’t take long. “Syrian.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I see.” The guy paused.
“You don’t have an accent.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir resisted the urge to
roll his eyes. He’d played this game enough times. “My family came here before
I was born.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The guy responded with a
subtle nod and a quiet grunt of acknowledgment. He pulled off his sunglasses,
and when he looked Mahir in the eye, Mahir caught himself wishing the man had
left the glasses on. His clear blue eyes? Piercing. And enough so to make Mahir
tongue-tied and off guard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The guy slid his
sunglasses into the collar of his shirt, which had the top button open, and then
extended his hand. “To answer your question, yes. I am David Ridley.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir took the hand and
shook it. No point showing even a moment’s hesitation, and Ridley had one thing
going for him already: no jokes about the virgins awaiting him in heaven. Maybe
he wouldn’t joke about that. “Saeed Hayaz.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The man held on to his
hand longer than was polite among straight Western men and kept their eyes
locked. Mahir did his best to relax under the challenge. Not give anything
away. Levelheadedness usually got him out of tight spots. This would be no
different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Tell me why you’re here.”
Ridley’s grip was strong and dry. Rough skin, like that of an honest worker—or
a fighter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I need a job. I was told
this is a good place for me, considering my skill set.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“By whom?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Word on the street.”
Mahir could see that wasn’t enough. “A guy I met in another club. We compared
notes, and he said I should come here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Who?” He still kept his
hand, as if that touch were some kind of lie detector.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Tommy. Tall, blond,
tattooed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Tattoos where?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Pretty much all over. Two
sleeves, one on the neck. Rip tattoo along his left side, looked like the flesh
was torn away and you could see the organs below. Pretty gross but a good piece
of work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Anywhere else?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“He did have a Prince
Albert,” Mahir mentioned as if in afterthought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Too bad Tommy can’t vouch
for you. He’s dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Damn.” Mahir looked down,
pretending he had to gather his thoughts. “He did drive like an idiot, but . .
.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Bullet.” Ridley finally
let go of his hand, but didn’t step back. “That kind of thing happens when guys
talk to cops.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ice trickled down the
length of Mahir’s spine. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley gave a small nod.
His eyes were still locked on Mahir’s. “So I don’t have to worry about you
taking his place as their narc.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Was that a question? A
statement? A threat? This guy was impossible to read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I don’t care for cops,”
Mahir said. “I just need a paycheck.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley laughed, which was
more unnerving than anything else he’d done so far. Any guy who could make a
single, quiet sound—and look—that cold was not someone Mahir wanted to spend
more time with than necessary. “Well, you’ll get a paycheck.” He clapped
Mahir’s shoulder. “As long as you do your job and know what’s good for you.” He
stepped away, allowing Mahir to breathe. Reaching for the door, Ridley added,
“Let’s go someplace more comfortable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He pulled open the door,
and Mahir followed him into the hallway back toward the nightclub’s lounge
area. At the edge of the lounge, where the painted concrete floor met plush red
carpet, Ridley pulled his sunglasses from his collar and put them back over his
eyes. Mahir couldn’t blame him. The flickering lights were a migraine waiting
to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">As they crossed the
lounge, Ridley seemed to make a point of taking a winding path that led them
right by all three of the round stages where girls danced for sweating,
liquored-up patrons. The walls were almost entirely mirrored, and when Mahir
glanced at one of the many reflective surfaces, he thought he caught Ridley
looking at him. Impossible to say for sure, though, thanks to those damned
sunglasses. Mahir had been warned that the pimp didn’t play around with making
sure all of his security guards were gay, and he had no doubt he was being
tested again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He didn’t have to fake
being uninterested in the ladies, but he made sure to give a male bartender an
exaggerated double take as he went by. And just before they left the red carpet
and stepped into another hallway, he exchanged grins with one of the other
security guards. Hopefully that would be the extent of his tests in that
department.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Out in the hallway, Ridley
took off his sunglasses again and hooked them in his collar. He opened another
door and gestured for Mahir to go ahead of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This room was closer to
what Mahir had expected in a place like this. Lavishly appointed with the same
rich, red carpet as the lounge and furniture that probably didn’t contain a
trace of particleboard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley went around behind
a broad desk and lowered himself into a red leather chair. Then he gestured at
one of the two smaller chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat. Relax.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Yeah. Relax. Right.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir sat down, leaned
back, but kept his legs uncrossed. With his back to the door, he was
vulnerable, and he glanced over his shoulder. Showing that it made him uneasy
would only show he knew his job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Who used to sign your
paychecks?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir’s focus returned to
Ridley. “Uncle Sam. I did my four years and got out in 2004. Did security ever
since then. Odd jobs. Drove deliveries across the country, bounced in bars.
Didn’t really get settled anywhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Ten years of drifting?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir shrugged. “They
tried to get me to reenlist, so I just stayed on the move.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley steepled his fingers
on his belly. Flat, trim, powerful. “Iraq?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Yes.” Mahir met his gaze.
“Fallujah was the last big thing I was involved in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Why are you working for the infidels, brother?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But the question of which
side he worked on was never that easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Where do you live?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir balked. “I’ve
house-sat recently, slept on couches. Looking at a couple crash pads once I
know I can afford them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I guess that means you’ll
need a sign-on bonus?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Certainly wouldn’t hurt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Family?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Nobody I still speak to.”
Making him disposable and vulnerable. Nobody who’d start asking questions if he
vanished for good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Right.” Ridley sat up
straighter. “Take off your jacket.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir took off his jacket
and folded it over the back of the other small chair. He was wearing a dark,
tight T-shirt and jeans he could actually move in but were still well cut.
Apart from the heavy steel-toed boots, this was what he wore when he drove to a
club to score. It was nothing special, though people told him he wore it well.
He showed off what he had, and that was usually enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley stood, walked
around the desk, and then sat down on it in front of him, the grip of the
pistol almost touching Mahir’s face. “Shirt off too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir didn’t hesitate. He
wasn’t wearing a wire so there was nothing for the man to see. He laid the
T-shirt over his jacket and sat back, arms on the armrests so Ridley could see
his exposed chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Stand up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir obeyed, a little
unnerved. Not because he thought Ridley might find something damning, but
because the two of them were, in spite of the abundance of space in the room,
close together. If Ridley so much as pushed out a breath with a little more force
than usual, it would probably brush Mahir’s chest, and that thought made his
flesh prickle with goose bumps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Focus, Mahir.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">No
point in getting a hard-on.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Though if he did, and
Ridley felt inclined to do something about—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Mahir.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Turn around.” Ridley
sounded amused. As close to amused as someone like him could, anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir slowly turned so
Ridley could see every inch of his torso. Every place he might’ve hidden a
wire. And it dawned on him—he always wore these jeans to clubs because they sat
just right on his hips. He wondered if Ridley noticed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When they were facing each
other again, Ridley grinned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But faint as it was, the
grin quickly disappeared. Ridley’s expression was carved in ice again, and so
was his voice. “How do I know you’re not a cop?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir didn’t bat an eye.
“You’ve got a guy running background checks, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Is he good at what he
does?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you suggesting I hire incompetent fucks around here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“No. Quite the contrary.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“If he’s good at what he
does,” Mahir said, “then he’d have found anything linking me to the cops. If he
didn’t, then . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley pursed his lips. After a long moment, he nodded. “All
right.” Then he put his hands on the edge of the desk and slowly—extra slowly,
as if he was doing it deliberately to fuck with Mahir’s head—pushed himself to
his feet. When he was fully upright, he stood</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;"> maybe</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> a couple of inches
from Mahir. Normally, he would be thrilled to be this close to someone so
attractive, but the tightness in his chest had nothing to do with arousal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“There’ve been some cops
through here,” Ridley said. “Undercovers and whatnot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“They made it past your—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Yes, they made it past,”
Ridley snapped. “They’re crafty sons of bitches sometimes. And if you’re a cop,
if you’ve ever even dreamed of being a cop in your wildest, most fucked-up
fantasies, then I would suggest you turn around and walk out. Right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir didn’t move. “I’m
not a cop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“So you say.” Ridley
inclined his head, drawing them just a little closer. “The last three
undercovers left this place in body bags.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir didn’t let himself
gulp or show even the slightest hint of nerves. He also didn’t let himself curl
his hands into fists as he wondered if the man in front of him had pulled the
trigger on any one of them. The memory of their funerals—grieving widows,
confused children asking where Daddy was, Mahir himself trying to keep it
together in his dress uniform—was still fresh, still raw. The only things
keeping him composed now were a shitload of undercover training and the desire
to see this investigation through so his colleagues wouldn’t have died for
nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’ve had enough of
serving Uncle Sam. I have my grudges, Ridley, and I don’t think ten years is
enough to let them go.” Planting the suggestion strongly in the man’s mind.
Fallujah. Massacre. Trauma. Death. Cover-up. Showing him a figment of the
truth, making it sound so easy and natural.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He looked up into Ridley’s
eyes again. “If you believe I’m a cop, tell me to go. I need to work with
people who trust me.” A gamble. Ridley’d likely not keep him around for his
nice torso. “I get enough shit in the rest of my life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley held his position.
Mahir could feel heat radiating through Ridley’s shirt. No response to the
dare, though. Another test? Something for Ridley’s own amusement?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Beads of cold sweat
materialized on the back of Mahir’s neck, and he gritted his teeth to appear
calmer than he was. He was getting irritated, too. Of course, this was part of
getting into the organization, but headfucks got old. Fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">might</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> be a good fit here,” Ridley said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Oh yeah?” Mahir refused
to break eye contact. “What else do you need to know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s eyes narrowed again, and Mahir didn’t have to look to
know that the corners of the man’s mouth had lifted. He could </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">feel</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> that fucking smirk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir lifted an eyebrow.
“Is it true what they say about you, Ridley?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">To his immense
satisfaction, that prompted the slightest startle out of Ridley. For this man
it was probably the equivalent of a sharp gasp. His voice was steady and even
as he said, “I suppose that depends. What do they say about me, Saeed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir shrugged. “I’ve just
heard you handpick every man on the security team.” He added a smirk to match
Ridley’s, and Ridley folded his arms across his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Meaning?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Meaning I’ve heard you personally screen all the men,” Mahir
said. “To make sure they fit </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">all</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> the requirements.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley laughed. “And don’t
you wish that rumor were true?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Now that you mention it .</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> . . “Don’t flatter
yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s brow creased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir made a dismissive
gesture. “Though I admit I was looking forward to finding out if you’re as good
a cocksucker as Tommy said you were.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley threw his head back
and really laughed this time. “Oh, Saeed.” He put a hand on Mahir’s shoulder,
patting it hard and then pressing down heavily. When he looked Mahir in the
eyes again, the challenge was back and stronger than ever. “Do you really think
I’d suck your cock to prove you are who you say you are?” Never letting his
eyes leave Mahir’s, he shook his head slowly. “Other way around, my friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Is that an invitation?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s breath caught
just enough to suggest that wasn’t the response he was expecting, but he
recovered quickly. “You aren’t the first cocky SOB to walk through here, you
know. I guarantee you won’t be the last.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You didn’t answer my
question.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley held his gaze. He
was off guard. Uncertain. Considering the question? Or how to outsmart Mahir
and bring the conversation back into his control?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Well?” Mahir folded his
arms, mirroring Ridley. “Was that an invitation or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Maybe he felt a bit smug when Ridley uncrossed his arms and one
hand went to his groin to adjust himself. While Mahir was trapped being Saeed,
he might as well get something out of it. And if it proved he wasn’t a cop,
even better. But it had to come from Ridley. The man appeared to respond best
when Mahir challenged him. At the same time, though, it should be easiest to
bend the man to his will if he allowed Ridley to think it had really been </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">his</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> idea all along.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">What Ridley did then surprised Mahir enough to make him jump. He
grabbed Mahir’s neck and</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;"> kissed</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> him—one of those open-mouthed,
passionate kisses that were all about </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">let’s</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">fuck</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">. It caught him by
surprise, but his body responded immediately, opened up under the onslaught.
Every time Ridley tried to invade his mouth, he countered and tried to claim
Ridley’s instead. He pushed forward, backed Ridley against the desk, and ground
their hips together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley gasped into the
kiss and held Mahir’s neck tighter. He put his other hand on Mahir’s ass,
pressing him closer. Mahir felt naked without his usual stubble. Clean-shaven
against clean-shaven was a totally different feeling. He dug his fingers into
Ridley’s shoulders, keeping the man pinned against the desk with his weight and
grinding touch. He could pretend the man wasn’t a criminal, just one of his bar
conquests, and that helped. Ridley was also incredibly hot—tall, muscular, and
smart. Mahir would love to see how he responded to a dick up his ass. Whether
he managed to be bossy then, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s hand left Mahir’s
neck and went up into his hair. He grabbed it, pulled back, and they were
suddenly eye to eye and breathless, staring each other down. Okay, this was
getting out of control quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley didn’t let go of
Mahir’s hair. His other hand, though, moved between them, nudging Mahir’s hips
back. Eyes locked, neither of them looked away, but when Ridley’s belt buckle
jingled, they both pulled in sharp breaths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Then came the zipper. </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Oh fuck.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“To answer your question—”
Ridley paused to lick his lips. “—yes. That was an invitation.” He tightened
his grasp on Mahir’s hair and shoved downward, but Mahir was pretty sure his
own knees dropped out from under him a split second before that pressure came.
Whoever’s idea it was, the end result was the same: Mahir was on his knees, and
he had Ridley’s dick between his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s aggression was as
unrelenting as it was hot. He forced himself deep into Mahir’s mouth, fists
pulling at his hair, which unnerved Mahir because it was so different. Most of
his adult life, his hair had been too short to be pulled, but Saeed wore it
longer to distinguish him from Mahir. And getting grabbed and having his head
controlled did funny things to Mahir, especially in this position.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The man wasn’t small by
any means, bigger than a lot of guys Mahir had been with, but Mahir didn’t let
it show that his jaw ached or that Ridley pushed the limit of his well-trained
gag reflex. Mahir’s own erection pressed against his zipper. How long had he
been itching for a man who’d fuck his face like this? Just one split-second
mental image of Ridley fucking his ass and Mahir damn near came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He put a hand on Ridley’s hip just to steady himself and wrapped
the other around the base of Ridley’s cock. Ridley groaned. His other hand hit
the desk beside him with a sharp </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">smack</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">, and Mahir stole a glance just to confirm that, yes, Ridley’s
knuckles really were turning white as he gripped the edge of the desk. The ones
in Mahir’s hair were probably just as pale if the painfully tight grasp was any
indication.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In spite of the way Ridley
tried to force Mahir to stay still, Mahir managed to bob his head up and down,
taking control of the depth and speed. He stroked with his hand, teased the
head and slit and underside with his tongue whenever he had enough space to do
so, and he shivered as Ridley rewarded him with a low, throaty groan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Oh fuck,” Ridley
murmured, fingers loosening and tightening in Mahir’s hair. “Oh God . . .” His
hips fought against Mahir’s hand, so Mahir put his arm across Ridley’s belly,
pinning him in place, and the groan turned to a faint whimper. Mahir couldn’t
tell if the man was frustrated as Mahir kept eroding his control over the
situation or if Ridley was just too far gone to give a fuck. All he knew was
that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on, and he
stroked and sucked Ridley’s cock like it was the last time he’d ever touch a
man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The whimper became a low
growl. Ridley’s hips trembled, his fingers twitched in Mahir’s hair, and Mahir
squeezed Ridley’s dick just right. Ridley swore once under his breath before he
came hard, nearly choking Mahir, but Mahir recovered and swallowed everything
the man gave him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“St-stop. Fuck. Stop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir glanced up and pulled off Ridley’s dick slowly with a
teasing </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">pop</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">. The suction and release made Ridley shudder from head to toe.
Seemed he was the type who got oversensitive just after orgasm, the type who’d
likely try to shake Mahir off if he came first while fucking. Mahir clambered
to his feet again and licked his lips. “Your turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley stared at him as if
not comprehending, mind still blown from the orgasm, and he tucked himself in,
struggling a little to close the zipper over his still mostly hard dick. “Only
polite, eh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’d say.” Mahir grinned
at him, tasting the man on his tongue, in his throat. He shouldn’t have
swallowed, but damn, he liked it, and he didn’t want to smell of cum when he
left this place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Fair enough.” Ridley
grabbed him by the hair and kissed him again, as deeply and passionately as
before, likely tasting himself, too. Mahir pressed his groin against Ridley’s
hip, desperate for some kind of relief. Ridley pushed him toward the desk.
“Down. Facedown.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">He can’t possibly fuck me</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">. Mahir allowed Ridley to
bend him over the desk. Ridley was working on Mahir’s belt and fly to free him,
pressed close and keeping him in place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley spat in his palm,
and Mahir expected the spit-slicked fingers in his ass. Wrong. Ridley’s hand
closed around his dick, and he pushed up against him from behind, the denim
rough against Mahir’s bare ass as Ridley began to jerk him off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir pushed against the
desk, not to escape, just to not lie there like a dead fish while that hand
tortured him. Ridley was thrusting his hips forward, mimicking fucking, and at
that moment, Mahir wished he hadn’t gotten him off yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I knew you were a
bottom,” Ridley whispered low into Mahir’s ear, the tickle of breath making
every hair on his body stand up. “Imagined I’d fuck you the moment you entered
the room, didn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir shook his head because he hadn’t. And calling </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">him</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> a bottom— Now, that
was almost funny. “Just get me off.” He thrust into Ridley’s hand, tried to
fuck it, but his range of movement was restricted by Ridley behind him. Unless
he pushed back much more, fucking anything was wishful thinking. Not that he
needed to. Ridley’s strong, wet hand gripped him just right—slow, intense
strokes robbing him slowly of breath and control, squeezing the head of his
cock with just a spike of pain, the other hand working his balls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’ll get you off,” Ridley
growled, letting his lips and his breath brush Mahir’s ear. But then his hands
slowed down. “When I’m damn good and ready, that is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir closed his eyes
tight and couldn’t quite stop himself from releasing a frustrated groan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley laughed. He kissed
the side of Mahir’s neck. “You’d do anything I told you to, wouldn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">That comment from any
other man would’ve made Mahir laugh, but he just bit his lip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley went on. “If I
wanted to fuck you, you’d bend over and lube yourself up before I even took my
dick out, wouldn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He would. Fuck, as much as he’d always thought of himself as a top
with the </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">occasional</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> tendency to bottom just for grins, Mahir couldn’t argue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley’s hand slowed even
more, nearly stopping. “I asked you a question.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir moistened his lips.
“Yes. I would.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">A chuckle against Mahir’s
neck, and Ridley’s hand picked up speed, stroking him just fast enough to blur
Mahir’s vision. “I want you to remember that,” Ridley whispered. “That no
matter what, you’ll do anything I tell you to. Because you will. Won’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir nodded. He tried
again to fuck Ridley’s hand, but the desk and Ridley’s weight still kept him
from moving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I could stop right now.”
Ridley bit Mahir’s neck just hard enough to make him yelp and then shiver. “I
could stop, walk away, and leave you to this”—he squeezed Mahir’s dick for
emphasis—“and you’d thank me for it. Isn’t that right? I could fuck you, not
finish the job, and you’d be grateful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Mahir’s knees shook. He
grabbed the opposite edge of the desk, just for something to hold on to. A
power top with all other men, Mahir whimpered a soft, unsteady plea to the man
on top of him for the first time in his life. “Please. Fuck, please . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley gave a soft laugh
just maniacal enough to make Mahir cringe. Ridley was going to stop. Any second
now, he’d stop. Walk away. Leave Mahir with semen on his tongue and an
unresolved erection. And if he came back and ordered Mahir to his knees for
another blowjob, Mahir would drop to the floor and thank him for the privilege.
What the fuck?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I won’t do that to you
this time,” Ridley murmured, and he stroked Mahir faster. Mahir’s whole body
tensed, every muscle tightening with the energy of his impending orgasm, and he
silently begged Ridley to be true to his word and not leave him hanging.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ridley kissed beneath his
ear again. Then he whispered so softly Mahir barely heard him. “Come.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And damn if Mahir’s body
didn’t respond immediately. He came hard, unable to even exhale never mind make
a sound, and shuddered between Ridley and the desk. His grasp on the edge
slipped, so he just let go. He didn’t have far to collapse, but as his orgasm
subsided, he sank onto the desk and felt like he’d just dropped out of the damn
sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Before Mahir had even
caught his breath, Ridley nipped his earlobe and then let him go. He pushed
himself up off Mahir. “You’re in, Saeed. Be back here tomorrow night at nine
o’clock sharp.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Footsteps. The door
opened. Closed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And Mahir was alone. He
straightened, heart pounding in his throat, confused as all hell about what the
fuck had just happened. He managed to tuck himself back in, then spotted a door
leading to a small bathroom where he washed his hands and belly and rubbed the
semen out of his jeans. It was invisible, but he knew it was there. Then he
pulled his T-shirt on and, looking around, resisted the urge to search this
place. He doubted very much that anybody would take a prospect into a room that
kept any important papers. The best thing he could do was be “in,” gather
information, and then make the whole thing collapse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">You’re in.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Well, he’d definitely
passed the gay test, and quite spectacularly. Even by his own standards, this
had been one of the hottest encounters of his life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He took his jacket and
slipped into it, then left the office. He wove his way back through the
Friday-night crowd and resisted the impulse to sit for a moment and have a
drink to calm down. He’d have to sleep this off, get into the mind-set and stay
there while he was Saeed. This leg of the investigation would likely take
weeks, if not months, so he’d better get used to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Now, whether to drive to
his—Saeed’s—crash pad or go home. No competition, really. He would likely spend
quite a few nights in that one-bedroom shithole that the department kept for
him close-by, so for tonight, he’d take the opportunity to sleep in his own bed
while he could.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-85680770158466563332014-04-04T07:43:00.003-07:002014-04-04T07:43:52.161-07:00EXCERPT: If It DrivesTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/marketgarden.html#drives1">If It Drives</a></i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt, Aleksandr Voinov<br />
Publisher: Riptide Publishing<br />
<br />
Excerpt:<br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">That was a first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Callum sat up straighter, watching in the limo’s side mirror as
his employer headed down the sidewalk towards the car . . . alone. James </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">never</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> left Market Garden
alone. Oh, no . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal tossed aside his
spiral notebook and pen, grabbed his black cap off the passenger seat, put it
on, and got out. At this point in the evening, he was usually biting down on
some red-hot jealousy while a sexy, leather-clad rentboy slid into the back of
the car with James, but he couldn’t even find any relief that it hadn’t happened
tonight. It took every shred of self-control he had not to jog across the
pavement and put his arms around his boss. He schooled his expression and
posture, refusing to let his concern or surprise show.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Not that James would have
noticed, and that in itself was weird. He was usually outgoing and
exuberant—well, as much as any dignified British man could be—but he was
strangely subdued tonight. Shoulders down, eyes down; even his customary
scarlet tie seemed to sag, the knot lower than usual. He was definitely not
himself. He was always tense and sometimes even a little depressed when he
asked Cal to take him to Market Garden, but never when he left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Ready to leave, Mr.
Harcourt?” Cal asked cautiously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James’s eyes flicked up,
briefly meeting Cal’s, and he grunted an affirmative. Definitely not himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">What’s wrong? Talk to me!</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But Cal said nothing. That
fantasy of being James’s confidant and source of comfort was just that, a
fantasy. In the real world, Cal was the help, and that meant he couldn’t help
James the way he ached to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">With his heart in his
throat, he pulled open the door and stood aside while James climbed into the
back of the car. No way had he been knocked back by any of the guys. If his
jaw-dropping good looks didn’t attract the rentboys to him—and Cal couldn’t
begin to fathom that—the contents of his wallet surely would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal shut the door and went
back to the driver’s seat. He looked in the rearview and said over his
shoulder, “Home, sir?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Yeah.” James’s gaze was
fixed on something outside the window. And not Market Garden, either. “Let’s go
home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This wouldn’t be a late
night, then. Thank God. Market Garden nights usually weren’t—Cal would be
dismissed shortly after dropping James and his rentboy du jour at the house—but
some nights, James met colleagues from the office or entertained clients, and
partied into the early hours of the morning before arriving home in the grey
predawn. By that point, Cal would be shattered and James would be drunk or
already asleep. Getting him out of the car, through the door, and up the stairs
into bed was a whole operation. Many times in the year—had it been that
long?—since the man’s wife had left, Cal had been the one to take James
upstairs, pull off his suit, and put him to bed after those liquored-up outings.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly in his job description, but he couldn’t bear the
thought of leaving James to show himself to bed when he was in that state. A
little bit of awkwardness and frustration were a small price to pay so James
could maintain his dignity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On the way home tonight,
James left the privacy screen open. Cal was used to that except on Market
Garden nights. If they were heading home from the brothel, that screen was
invariably up, leaving Cal’s fertile imagination to provide the details. Sometimes
Cal heard things—leather creaking, a groan, and once in a while a laugh so
sadistic he wondered if James had Loki himself back there—but he never saw
anything. Whenever James emerged from the car with one of his rentboys, he’d be
flustered, visibly hard, and sometimes already sweating a little. What Cal
wouldn’t have given to know what exactly the rentboys did to him during that
thirty-minute drive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">What I wouldn’t give to join them.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He shivered and gripped
the wheel a little tighter, focusing on manoeuvring down the narrow streets on
the route back to the house. A route he’d driven so many times, he could almost
do it in his sleep. But tonight, with that screen open and James just sitting
there, alone and staring off into space, Cal struggled to concentrate on the
road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Glancing in the rearview
again, he cleared his throat. “Is, um, everything all right, sir?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Leather creaked softly
behind him. James sighed. “Everything’s fine, Callum. Don’t worry about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal gnawed his lip, but
didn’t say anything more. Sometimes, when he wasn’t preoccupied with business,
James chattered endlessly from the backseat, going on about anything—a client’s
antics, whatever he and the children had done during their visit the previous
weekend, something in the news—and at least appeared happy to have Cal’s full
attention. It didn’t seem to bother him that Cal was paid to be there and it
was only professional for an employee to listen politely to his employer and
comment when asked. Then again, that didn’t bother James about the rentboys,
either. It took a lonely, lonely man to ignore the fact that someone was being
paid to give him their undivided attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Other times, James was
like this. Quiet. Withdrawn. Except that was always before a visit to Market
Garden. Never after.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The drive tonight felt
like it took three times as long as usual, but finally, Cal pulled up the long
driveway that wound around to the front of James’s lavish home. He parked, left
the engine idling, and went around to James’s door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">It seemed to take all the
energy James had to extract himself from the car and stand. He was sober, that
much Cal could tell—he rarely drank all that much at Market Garden—but he
looked exhausted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Are you sure you’re all
right?” Cal asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Yes.” James faced him and
smiled, but it was thin lipped and didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal nodded silently. He
closed the door after James had stepped away from the car, and waited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James looked up at his
house, and Cal watched him silently, wondering what was going through the man’s
head as he stared at his massive, empty house and its closed front door. His
gaze was distant. Gravel crunched and his dress shoes creaked softly as he rocked
back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Again, Cal fought the urge
to put his arms around James and comfort him. Something was off, and whatever
it was, Cal desperately wanted to fix it. Change it. Help him somehow. Hell,
just hold him the way he’d imagined doing so many times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal tried to force that
thought out of his mind. Maybe that was one fantasy that needed to stop.
Imagining himself having sex with a man who was out of his league was one
thing, but imagining himself consoling someone who was standing right there,
looking that lost and that vulnerable . . . it wouldn’t take much for the line
between fantasy and reality to blur. And if that line did blur, he’d probably
realise it one awkward hug too late.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Eyes still fixed on the house,
James broke the silence. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal’s heart skipped.
Really? This night just kept getting stranger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“A drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James turned his head, and
a weak smile appeared on his lips. “Yes. A drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I . . .” </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Shouldn’t. No way. Cal, don’t</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> . . . “I should park
the car.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Just leave it outside the
door.” James fiddled his keys from his pocket. “Not like I’m expecting
visitors.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal glanced up at the
overcast sky, but London weather was all over the place, and though it didn’t
look like rain, it might very well rain tonight. He really didn’t want to leave
the car out in case the weather turned nasty, and putting it away would give
him a moment to come to his senses and—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Don’t worry about the
car,” James said quietly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“All right.” </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Bad idea. Very bad idea</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">. But Cal took off his cap
and placed it on the driver’s seat, then killed the engine and locked the
doors. Heart racing, he followed his boss through the front door and into the
enormous living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James always left several
lights on when he headed into the city, which made the house less empty and
forlorn, but that illusion didn’t last for very long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I could put on the fire.”
James sounded undecided, certainly not quite there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“If you like, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I love the flickering. Do
you?” He looked at Cal, hazel eyes brownish in the warm light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal had never lived
anywhere that had a live fireplace; they seemed unnecessary and inefficient.
The house wasn’t cold, but maybe James found it comforting. Cal nodded. “I do,
sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Good.” James took off his
jacket, walked over to the fireplace and crouched down to start the fire with
paper and kindling. Cal found himself staring at the man’s fine white shirt
pulled taut over his body, and the small, trim arse just hovering over the heel
of his polished black shoes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Snap out of it, Cal. You shouldn’t even be
here.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This was a mistake. It
wasn’t a good idea to do social time, but now that he was here, he couldn’t
really bow out without being impolite. He’d have to make up some kind of excuse
to vanish into the tiny cottage behind the house. The living quarters were one
of the main perks of the job, even if they seemed a little too close tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“What are you drinking,
Callum? Wine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Wine, whatever. He’d drink
what the boss was drinking, but not much. Just enough to be sociable. “Yes,
sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’ll grab a couple of
bottles from the wine cellar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Actually, I—” His
last-ditch attempt to bail and get the fuck out of there halted when James
looked into his eyes again. Cal swallowed. “Uh, I can get the wine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Are you sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">No. God, what am I doing?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> But something was
wrong, and Cal couldn’t walk away from James and just leave him here with
whatever was on his mind, and if company and a glass of wine were what he
needed, then maybe Cal could give him that much. “I’m sure. Any, um,
preference?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James smiled, and some
tension seemed to melt out of his shoulders. “It’s downstairs. Past the game
room, second door on the left. Get us a couple bottles of red, if you would?
The French ones are all favourites. Pick whatever you like.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Sure.” Cal followed
James’s instructions, and peered at the extensive collection of bottles. Pick
whatever you like? Some of those bottles were five hundred a pop. Others just
fifty or so. Did it make a difference if he went for the cheap ones or the
expensive ones? He chose blindly, picking out two bottles of French reds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He returned with the
bottles, one in each hand, and the fire was flickering, James standing back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal swallowed. “Should I,
um . . .” He nodded towards the kitchen as he set the bottles on the coffee
table. “Get a couple of glasses, sir?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">For the first time all
evening, James smiled. Not broadly, but genuinely, as if the fire had warmed
something in him during Cal’s brief absence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You don’t have to call me
‘sir’ anymore tonight. James is fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“All right.” Cal swallowed
again. “Uh, James. The . . .” He’d asked a question, hadn’t he? Had James
answered him?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James gestured at the
couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the glasses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Comfortable. Right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James brushed past him,
not quite touching him but almost, and then Cal was alone in the massive living
room with two bottles of wine, a crackling fire, and a few million questions on
his mind. But he sat at one end of the couch, leaning his elbow on the armrest
and trying not to fidget or chew his thumbnail or otherwise let on that he was
nervous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And why the hell was he
nervous, anyway? Just because this was out of the ordinary and perhaps a little
too close to how his most delicious fantasies had begun didn’t mean a thing.
Maybe James was just lonely tonight. That was probably why he’d gone to Market
Garden in the first place—he’d been in an exceptionally depressed mood when
they’d left the house, Cal realised now—and maybe he just wanted some company
without the leather and the—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Oh, God, don’t think about all that. </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He squirmed on the
cushion, forcing himself to think unpleasant thoughts to keep from physically
reacting to those fleeting images.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James returned with two
glasses. He put them on the table, opened one of the bottles, and poured them
each half a glass. As he handed one to Cal, he smiled. “I hope I’m not keeping
you from any other plans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“No, s—uh, I mean, no. No
plans.” He took the glass and swirled it slowly. “I’d expected to be on duty
for a couple more hours, so I hadn’t made any.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James’s smile faltered
briefly, and his gaze turned distant as he lifted his own glass. “Well, you’ll
still be paid for the same hours. I hope this is all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Of course.” Cal sipped
the wine. The heady, sweet flavour made his head spin a little, as if he’d already
drunk an entire bottle or two. Maybe it wasn’t the wine. With James sitting
this close to him, barely a couch cushion between them and without the safety
of a privacy screen, Cal probably didn’t need to drink anything at all to get
his head spinning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“How do you like the
wine?” James asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal swirled it slowly.
“It’s, uh, it’s nice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“It is.” James smiled.
“Château Margaux is always nice. Good choice, Callum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Thank you.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. In response to
James’s comment or, well, at all. </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Why the hell am I here?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> He lifted his gaze
and met James’s eyes. </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">And why aren’t you yourself tonight? </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But those weren’t
questions he could make himself ask. James’s personal life was off limits, and
Cal wasn’t sure he wanted to know exactly why he was here and a Market Garden
rentboy wasn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Callum?” James tilted his
head slightly. “You’re awfully quiet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal took another drink and
then put his glass down. “Forgive me if I’m out of line, but are you sure
everything’s all right? You’ve been a little, uh, out of sorts all evening.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James shrugged. He was
better than two-thirds of the way through his glass already. “Could just use a
little company, that’s all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Isn’t that why I took you to Market Garden?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal bit down on that
question. This degree of intimacy was disconcerting enough without probing into
James’s unusual sex life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James swallowed the last
of his wine. He put the glass between the bottles, but made no move to pour
himself any more. Sitting back, he slung one arm across the top of the couch,
his hand dangerously close to Cal’s shoulder. Cal struggled to breathe. He was
tempted to reach for his wine, but was afraid he’d drop the glass. Not that a
splash of red wine on the white sofa and pale carpet would be any more
mortifying than saying or doing the wrong thing right now. Like moving closer
to that casually draped arm. Or moving away from it. He was certain any
movement at all, even a millimeter in either direction, would be the body
language equivalent of a scream of “get the fuck away from me” or a bright red
neon sign buzzing with “please, please touch me.” So he stayed completely
still.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Apparently oblivious,
James absently loosened that rich red tie with his finger. “Do you recall that
one rentboy I brought home not long ago?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">One? Yeah, which one?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal cleared his throat.
“I’m not sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“The blond kid. Nick.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Nick. Oh yes. He’d only come home with James once, but Cal
remembered him well. He’d had a commanding air about him, like well-earned
arrogance, that was hard to forget. Not that he’d interacted with him much,
just letting him in and out of the car, and then offering coffee the next
morning before driving him back into town as he sometimes did while James slept
off the night before. And he remembered feeling the need—which he’d managed to
resist—to subtly encourage Nick to </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">get out and stay out.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal coughed again and
lifted his glass to his lips. “I think I remember him, yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James sighed. “I was
hoping he’d be there tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Something tightened in
Cal’s chest, and he gritted his teeth. “Wasn’t he?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">What a shame. </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Is that why . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I was hoping to hire him
tonight.” James smiled, gaze distant, but then he shook himself and lifted his
arm off the back of the couch. He reached for the bottle again. “Anyway. He’s
not there anymore, apparently. Moved on to bigger and better things, I
suppose.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You, um, liked him, then?” Of course he did.</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;"> Come
on, Cal. Don’t be stupid.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James laughed softly. “You
could say that. I’ll have to find someone else who can do the things he did.
Was only that one time, but there was just something about him that . . .” He
glanced at Cal, and his cheeks darkened a little as if he’d suddenly remembered
who he was talking to. “More wine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Give me the whole fucking bottle.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal waited for James to stop pouring and resisted the urge to toss
the Château Margaux back like vodka or some medicinal tonic that might blur his
mind so it would stop taunting him with those images: James’s body, how he
looked and moved when he staggered out of the car with one of his rentboys. How
he’d refocus, usually just long enough to tell Cal he’d have the rest of the
night off. James had no idea how many hours Cal would spend after leaving them,
imagining himself in the rentboy’s place. Not that Cal believed he could really
do whatever it was those guys did. James had a thing for the cocky, arrogant
rentboys, the ones who radiated attitude from their pores. Controlled,
sometimes bossy. No, </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">usually</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> bossy. What they did when they were
alone, Cal could only imagine—and often did imagine—but he doubted they turned
passive or obedient once they were behind closed doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And the next day, James
would sleep like the dead and be in a great mood for the next few days. What
Cal wouldn’t have given to be the reason for James’s relaxed good spirits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He took a mouthful of the
wine and swallowed, then glanced at James. What was going on here? Was James
trying to get him to relax, perhaps so he could take advantage? Considering the
calibre James sought, Cal wasn’t in the same class. He was all right, he
figured, but nothing like those leather-clad men from Market Garden. James
could do much better and usually did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James sat back with his
topped-off wineglass, laying his arm across the back of the couch again. “It’s
never occurred to me until now, but . . .” He met Cal’s gaze, and paused for a
long moment, eyes narrowed just slightly as if he were looking for something in
Cal’s expression. “Does it— The night jobs. The trips to Market Garden.” He
tilted his head. “Does it bother you that I’m . . .” He paused again, breaking
eye contact and absently swirling his wine as if trying to find the right
words. “That I’m involving you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“N-no, sir. James.” Cal
swallowed most of the contents of his glass in one go. “I’m only here to drive
you from place to place. Beyond that isn’t my business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You would object if I had
you drive me somewhere to commit a crime, wouldn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Well, you do work in the
financial sector.” Cal laughed cautiously. “And I still drive you to work,
don’t I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">His boss stared at him.
Cal’s throat tightened. Too far. Shit. Way too—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James snorted, wagging a
finger at him. “Touché, Callum. Touché.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Relieved, Cal laughed
softly. “To answer your question, though, it doesn’t bother me. It’s your
business. Not mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Perhaps it isn’t. But
should it ever become an issue, you can speak up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Cal drained his glass. He was tempted to refill it, but resisted. Two glasses
that fast and his head was definitely getting light; any more than that and he
was liable to put his foot in his mouth. Again. The finance joke had been
uncharacteristically risky for him. Thank God James had seen the humour and not
taken offence, but Cal silently chastised himself for it. He’d definitely had
enough alcohol, so he left the wine well enough alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He sat back. A split
second too late, he remembered James’s arm behind him. His shoulder blade
bumped James’s hand, and Cal sat up sharply as James jerked it back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Sorry,” they both
muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This was definitely a bad idea. Social hour with the boss was fine
and dandy when it didn’t reduce them both to inarticulate schoolboys. Though
they had recovered from more awkward moments. Like the time when a very, very
drunk James had slid a hand over the front of Cal’s trousers while Cal had been
helping him into bed. Over a year later, Cal still heard that hiss of breath
and the groaned “oh my</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;"> God</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">, Callum” in his dreams, and he still felt
that clumsy but very deliberate squeeze. That had only made things awkward for
a day or so. Mostly because Cal wasn’t entirely certain how much James
remembered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal chanced a look at
James. His usually confident boss met his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Sorry,” James muttered
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Don’t worry about it. My
fault.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">More silence. More eye
contact. There was no hope of pretending one or both of them wouldn’t remember
this tomorrow. They were both relatively sober tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal’s eyes flicked towards the open wine bottle and the empty
glasses. They were both relatively sober tonight </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">so
far.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Callum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He faced James again. That
uncertainty was still there, but strangely mixed with renewed confidence.
Determination, maybe. A decision made, but not quite enough bravado to go
through with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal cleared his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James put his glass on the
table. Then he casually rested his arm on the back of the couch again, relaxing
a little as he returned to the position he’d been in when they’d made that
unexpected contact a moment ago. He held Cal’s gaze, and the decisiveness still
lingered in his expression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Do you remember, oh, a
couple of months ago? When I hired that pair from Market Garden?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal shifted, trying to get
comfortable without leaning back against his boss’s arm. How the hell could he
forget those two? That cocky kid and his slightly shier—but strangely cocky in
his own way—partner. Maybe it had been part of their gimmick, but Cal thought
they might’ve been a couple. “I remember them, yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">A knowing smile pulled at
James’s lips. “You weren’t fond of them, were you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“What?” Cal sat up a
little straighter. “What do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James lifted one shoulder
in a barely noticeable shrug. “Am I wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal gulped. “I barely saw
them. Just on the way in and out of the car.” And he’d heard devilish laughter
through the privacy screen. Caught the scent of sweat and leather when they got
out of the car. He hadn’t missed the way James’s cheeks had been flushed and
the slightly quieter rentboy had wiped at his lips just before stepping out of
the car. Cal had ground his teeth until long after the three of them had gone
into the house, and had fantasised about letting them find their own bloody
ride back into—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James chuckled quietly.
“That’s what I thought.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal’s face burned. “What
exactly are you getting at?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Fuck. James wasn’t as out
of sorts as he’d been earlier, that much was for sure. Two glasses of wine?
Really? That was all it took?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’m just curious.”
James’s hand rustled softly on the couch behind Cal. “Was there something about
them that you didn’t like?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Besides the fact that I knew they were
teasing, tormenting, pleasing, fucking you all bloody night? And I wanted to—</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He cleared his throat.
“They just gave me an odd vibe, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Care to elaborate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal’s mouth went dry. His
boss’s scrutiny unsettled him, but he couldn’t make himself look anywhere but
right at James. “I. Um.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Relax, Cal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal? Not Callum? That was
a switch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I’m . . .” Cal took a
breath. “Why exactly are we having this conversation?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James opened his mouth as
if he were about to speak, but hesitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Movement drew Cal’s
attention to the back of the couch, and he shifted his gaze just in time to see
James lift his arm. He held his breath, watching James’s hand hover in his
peripheral vision for a couple of seconds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And then his hand was on Cal’s shoulder. Warm. Heavy. Undeniably </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">there.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He looked James in the
eyes, and that confidence in James’s expression faltered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Should I be doing this?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">Should
we be doing this? What the fuck are we doing?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal’s heart pounded. James
swallowed hard. His hand lightened slightly on Cal’s shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">To hell with it. They’d
already crossed the line, hadn’t they?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James took a breath. “Cal,
I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal grabbed the loosened
red tie, dragged James across the cushion between them, and kissed him. He did
have the wine as an excuse. James had telegraphed what he wanted, and the fact
that James didn’t jerk away, didn’t push him off or so much as protest, gave
him confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Instead, James opened up
to him almost immediately, tasting of wine and need, and all Cal’s restraint
just went out of the window. He grabbed James by the shoulder, pulled him
closer, sensing all the coiled strength in that body, as if he were ready to
fight, because that was what those damned alpha males did all day, anyway,
right? But James didn’t fight him. Didn’t seem intent on fighting him at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The kiss made Cal’s head
spin. He pushed James down across the cushions with his own body weight,
worried that James would tell him to stop, or to loosen his grip, but James let
himself be pressed against the cushions. Cal let go of his shoulder and ran his
fingers down the man’s chest, brushing a hard nipple almost by accident on his
way down, then reconsidered and twisted it. James gave a muffled sound into the
kiss, and Cal twisted it harder, then rubbed it. God, this was hot, but he
wanted skin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Except that meant getting
undressed, which meant letting go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Maybe skin was overrated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He moved further down,
felt James breathe hard, felt the muscles under his touch with nothing but a
fine white tailored shirt between skin and skin. The heat bled through, and the
rest was visual memory, of his chest and abs, that body from running and
weightlifting. He wrecked himself every morning in his own damned gym—Cal had
seen him through the window a few times, and what had really turned him on was
the sweat, the exertion, and those grunts that came through the open window
when James battled on despite the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal ran his hand up the front of James’s shirt, feeling those
toned abs quivering under his touch. Though he’d been a little alarmed when
James had thrown himself extra hard into his gym routine right after the
divorce, the man hadn’t injured himself, and the </span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">results</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">—fuck, the results. He
curled his fingers and ran them downwards, nails trailing across James’s shirt
with a soft hiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James broke the kiss,
arching his spine and tilting his head back. “Cal . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal dived for James’s
neck. He kissed the exposed flesh from the stubbly jaw all the way down to the
collar of his shirt, and damn it, now he needed that skin to skin contact, even
if it meant letting go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He pushed himself up, and
as he hooked his finger in the knot of James’s tie, their eyes met. James’s
gleamed with the same hunger Cal felt. No, not quite the same. He was somehow
more subdued than earlier. Heavy-lidded eyes, blissed-out smile; he was calmer,
whereas Cal was getting more and more wound up by the second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">As Cal pulled the tie
loose and the knot disintegrated into a slightly wrinkled ribbon of silk, James
started unbuttoning his own shirt, his hand brushing Cal’s. He struggled with
the buttons, but managed to get two, three, four undone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“You should . . .” He
licked his lips. “Yours . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal glanced down, suddenly
aware that he was still dressed. He pushed himself up, and with equally
unsteady hands, started stripping off his own shirt. He tried not to think
about the fact that he was now straddling James, who was lying across the
couch, because then he couldn’t concentrate on buttons and getting his arms out
of sleeves and complicated things like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ignoring James’s hard-on wasn’t easy, though, not when it was so
close to Cal’s that the slightest movement made their cocks brush through their
trousers. He’d think about that in a moment. He’d focus completely on that and
get lost in that and get all these fucking clothes out of the way—a</span><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; padding: 0in;">re
we really doing this?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">—but not until he’d figured out how to get these damned buttons
to—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James tugged at Cal’s
shirt, pulling it free from his waistband. His hands slid under the shirt, and
Cal forgot what he was doing. His fingers were still on a button that was
halfway through the buttonhole, but all he could think about was those warm hands
sliding up his abs. He closed his eyes and pushed out a long breath, which only
made things worse—better?—because his muscles moved under James’s gentle,
exploring touch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Before we get too carried
away,” James whispered, out of breath already, “maybe we should move this into
the bedroom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal opened his eyes and
looked down at him. “The bedroom?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">James nodded slowly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Cal pushed the button
through its buttonhole. As far as he knew, James never took any of his
“companions” into his own bedroom. The morning after, they always emerged from
one of the guest rooms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The bedroom?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Something told Cal they
were too carried away already.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-12521019104754013442014-02-01T14:42:00.000-08:002014-02-01T14:42:03.051-08:00EXCERPT: Ex EqualsTitle: Ex Equals<br />
Author: L.A . Witt<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">CHAPTER 1</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chris<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">6:42 P.M.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Only two minutes since the last
time I’d checked my watch. Three since the time before that. Chuckling to
myself, I rubbed my tired eyes. What was the worst that would happen if I
showed up late? My students would write me up? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Ah, but consequences or not,
eight years in the military had left me with a nearly neurotic need to be on
time or early to everything. Last night, I’d barely slept, and when I did, I
kept dreaming of being late to every one of my classes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So far, in between sucking down
as much coffee as I could get my hands on, I’d made it to every one of them
exactly ten minutes early. It wasn’t like I had far to go; three of my classes
were in one room, two were in the next room over, and they were about a two
hundred foot walk from my office. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It was, however, my first day on
the job. No sense slacking from the get-go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Another glance at the watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">6:45 P.M.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">By now, the previous class would
be out of the room, mine would be trickling in, and I wouldn’t look like a
complete dork if I showed up. I stood, picked up my briefcase from beside my
desk, and left. I stopped to lock the door, and couldn’t help pausing to grin
at the sign on the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chris
Reuben—Math Dept.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">There was just something cool
about having my name on a door. Maybe not to anyone else, but after almost a
decade as a uniformed drone and a few years of grinding through my degrees,
there was a certain novelty about it. Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I pocketed
my keys and strolled toward the classroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I’d been a nervous wreck before
my first two classes, but now I was calm and cool. My other four classes had
gone smoothly, so I was confident about this one. Algebra 101. Easy subject,
easy curriculum. Plus it was a night class; several of my colleagues around the
community college had told me the evening crowd was a hell of a lot easier to
deal with. Instead of fresh out of high school kids, it was adults who had to
cram in classes between their jobs and family life. They tended to take things
more seriously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I pushed open the classroom door
and offered a quick glance and a smile to the eight or nine students who’d
already arrived. As I arranged copies of the syllabus and all the other crap I
needed to hand out on the table at the front of the room, more students
arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">One woman who was probably in her
mid-forties came up to me with a late enrollment form. I jotted her name down,
took the carbon copy of the form, and slid it into my notebook under the roll
sheet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I scanned the room, counting
heads. Twenty-one. A quick look at my roll sheet showed twenty-eight, plus
there’d probably be more showing up with late enrollments. Not my largest
class, but quite a crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I looked up at the clock at the
back of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">6:55.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Five minutes till go-time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The door opened again, and I
glanced up as three more students filed in. Two of them were Navy, probably
from the base down the road. They must have come straight from work because
they were still in uniform, and—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Oh. My. God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The Navy had recently changed
their everyday uniforms, shifting the utilities—which were a lot like prison
blues—to blue camouflage. I wasn’t sure how effective blue camouflage really
was unless they <i>wanted</i> a man
overboard to be harder to find, but from an ogling standpoint? Oh yes, they did
just fine. Cammies always looked good, and the deep blue had a tendency to
bring out eyes in a way that would probably have this math teacher tripping
over his words for the entire quarter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Good thing I wasn’t enlisted
anymore. Being in the closet had been bad enough when we were all dressed like
prison inmates. This? This would have been torture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The boys in blue took seats in
the back row. Backpacks rustled, papers shuffled, pens rattled. More students arrived.
Seats were filling quickly, so I did one last check to make sure I had
everything I needed in the order I needed it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">6:59. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I resisted the urge to drum my
fingers. With the late enrollments, I had a class of thirty-two now, but only
twenty-six in front of me. Much as I didn’t like starting late, I figured I
could give the stragglers until ten after, just in case anyone had difficulty
finding the room. The campus layout wasn’t terribly intuitive, so students
could be forgiven for being a few minutes late. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The door opened again, and when I
looked up, my heart stopped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So much for calm, cool, or
collected.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">There was no mistaking his
identity. Even if I could have convinced myself to hide behind a veil of denial
for a moment or two, the uniform—<i>oh, Navy,
why couldn’t you have stuck with prison blues?</i>—had his name right there on
his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Hayes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Justin Hayes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My former shipmate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My ex-boyfriend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I blinked. My eyes flicked from
his name to his face, and the lopsided grin told me the recognition was mutual.
And, according to his glittering blue eyes, <i>not</i>
unexpected.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I gritted my teeth. <i>Tell me this is a joke</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Chris,” he said. “How’s it
going?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I bit back my irritation, and
forced myself to be completely, if grudgingly, professional. “Good. And you?” I
extended my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He shook it, sending lightning up
my arm and into my spine. <i>Fuck, why do
you still have to be so damned hot? <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Doing great,” he said. “So
you’re teaching now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">No,
I’m the fire marshal, and I’ve decided this room exceeds its max capacity by
one. Get out.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I cleared my throat. “Yeah, yeah.
This is my first year.” Before he could say anything, I pulled back my sleeve
to look at the time. “And it’s after seven, so I need to get things started.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Sure. Right. I’ll, um…” He
gestured toward the back of the room. “Take a seat.” As he walked away, I
forced myself not to watch him. I was not going to notice how good his broad
shoulders looked in that damned uniform, and I certainly wasn’t going to think
about how those boots might sound when they thumped onto the floor beside my
bed. A bed. Someone else’s bed. After what we’d been through, his boots
wouldn’t be landing beside my bed any time soon. I wouldn’t touch the son of a
bitch with someone else’s dick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Even still, damn him for still
being gorgeous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Fuck,
I do not need this</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I took a deep breath and faced my
class and ex-boyfriend. I’d survived four classes without my composure
faltering even for a second, but now, before this one had even started, I was a
wreck. I was all sweaty palms and jitters like a kid with stage fright. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But I had to bite the bullet and
get through it, no matter what, so I took another deep breath, promised myself
I could and would do this, and started the class. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“As I’m sure you probably all
gathered by now,” I said. “I’m Chris Reuben, and this is Algebra 101. If you’re
in the wrong class, or you don’t have TiVo to record the next few months worth
of <i>Grey’s Anatomy</i>, there’s the door.”
I gestured toward it, and the class responded with a reassuring ripple of
laughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I handed out the syllabus, all
the while pretending not to be aware that I was giving Justin my e-mail
address, office phone number, and office location. Of course he could get that
information fairly easily from the college website, but it still didn’t sit
well with me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">While the copies of the syllabus
were passed around, I stood at the podium again and continued the introduction
to the class. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Obviously we have some military
among us.” I glanced at the two guys in uniform who weren’t Justin. “I’m former
enlisted myself, so I know how the duty schedules and everything can be a
hassle. If you have duty days that will interfere with attendance, you’re
welcome to e-mail me that information ahead of time so we can arrange makeup
quizzes, tests, and whatnot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">One of the two in the back raised
his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I nodded. “Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Our ship’s gonna be on work-ups
for two weeks during the quarter. Will we be able to make up what we miss?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Absolutely,” I said. “I’m strict
about attendance, but I’m flexible when it comes to military commitments,
illnesses, and things of that nature. Just give me a heads-up whenever you’re
able, and I’ll help you out as best I can.” I picked up my notes. “So, with all
that out of the way, why don’t we get into the fun stuff that you’re all here
for? Does everyone have a textbook?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A murmur of affirmatives went
through the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“If not, see if you can share one
with someone sitting near you,” I said. “And everyone please turn to page
twenty-two.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">For the sake of not overwhelming
my students on the first day of class, I’d kept my lectures relatively short.
When I wrapped up this lecture at half past eight, a full thirty minutes before
class was scheduled to end, no one in the room was more relieved than me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I closed my book and set my notes
on top. “And that’s enough for one night. There’s no assignment this evening,
but starting Wednesday night there will be assignments following every class.
If you miss a class, assignments are listed on the syllabus. I’ll see everyone
on Wednesday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My colleagues were right about
one thing: students didn’t stick around after night classes. No one paused
beside desks to socialize. No one pulled me aside to ask a question or see if
they could swing by my office before they left. No one said anything except
“good night, see you on Wednesday.” As soon as I gave the word that they were
dismissed, people were <i>gone</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I wasn’t far behind. I shoved
everything unceremoniously into my briefcase, slung it over my shoulder, and
retreated to the safety of my office. The door with my name on it was suddenly
much too conspicuous, and as I shut it behind me, I caught myself wishing I
could have had one of the offices tucked back in a corner. Maybe a shared one
without any lettering on the door. But no, the offices were arranged to keep
the various departments together, and the math department had prime real
estate, front and center on the third floor. If Justin came looking for me, he
couldn’t miss me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And he had my office number on
the syllabus anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I dropped into my chair and
rested my elbows on the desk blotter. Groaning aloud, I rubbed my forehead with
my thumb and middle finger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Justin. In my class. After all
this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The memories didn’t have to come
flooding back. They’d been there all along, every last one of them, floating at
the edges of my consciousness like flotsam and jetsam just waiting to tangle
with a rudder and throw me off course. After three years, I should have been
over it. Up until tonight, I’d thought I <i>was</i>
over it. But then he was there, and I was off guard, and the feelings were
still there, and it hurt so goddamned bad to be in the same room with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I took a deep breath and let it
out slowly. I <i>was</i> over it. This was
just unexpected, that was all. Justin had caught me off guard. The ship had hit
a wave, knocked me off balance, and it was up to me to right myself. I had to
find my sea legs again, as it were. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I needed to find them quickly,
too. With Justin as my student, I didn’t have a choice but to stand on my own
two feet and teach my class like I’d never had sweaty, passionate sex with the
blond guy in the back row. Like I’d never fallen in love with him, and never
wound up hurting like hell when it was over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Twelve weeks. Two classes per
week. One class down, twenty-three to go. Five of those were exam days that
only required me to sit back and make sure no one cheated, so only eighteen
classes where I had to actually form coherent sentences. I could do this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A knock at the door almost drove
another groan out of me. I didn’t have to ask who it was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“It’s open,” I said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As the doorknob turned and the
hinges gave the faintest squeak, I looked up. Just as I expected, Justin
stepped in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hey,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hi.” I leaned back in my chair
and folded my hands on my lap. “What do you need?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He pulled a sheet of paper from
his backpack, then slung the pack onto his shoulder again before handing me the
page. “I just thought I’d bring my duty schedule by. You mentioned…in class…you
know…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Yeah, I know what I said.” I
held out my hand and took the paper from him. “You could have e-mailed it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Well, opsec and all of that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I eyed him. “Since when is a duty
schedule a matter of operational security?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Okay, maybe not. But, anyway.”
He nodded toward the paper in my hand. “There it is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I set it on my desk without
looking at it. “Anything else?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No, I think that’s it.” He
fidgeted, but didn’t fidget himself closer to the damned door. Something
furrowed his brow, perhaps some segue into a conversation I had neither the
time nor the inclination to endure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I beat him to the punch, and
icily said, “I don’t suppose your ship is pulling out any time soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He smirked. “Now you know <i>that’s</i> opsec.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t ask
when, to where, or for how long. I’m assuming you can tell me if the boat’s in
the shipyard or doing work-ups at least.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He shrugged. “Actually, I’m on
shore duty. I’m with one of the support detachments on-base.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Must be nice,” I said through my
teeth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Eh, losing sea pay sucks.” He
grinned. “But it is kind of nice not to have to go to sea any time soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’m sure.” I sat up and folded
my hands on top of his duty schedule. Before I could gently and maybe a little
coldly drop a hint that he was more than welcome to leave, he spoke again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You know, I was surprised to see
your name on the class schedule. I didn’t think you’d be in the area. Figured
you’d go back to the east coast after you got out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Didn’t have any reason to go
back.” I shrugged. “This is where the ship dumped me, so this is where I
stayed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“How do you like it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I pursed my lips. “Justin…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He put up a hand. “Hey, I was
just curious how you’re doing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Exhaling, I rubbed my forehead.
“Listen, I need to finish some things before I get out of here, and I’m
exhausted. I’m just…” <i>Not in the mood to
even look at you unless you’re going to fucking kiss me. Wait, what? </i>I
muffled a cough. “I really need to get a few things done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Right. Sorry.” He started to go.
“I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I barely kept myself from
cringing. Every Monday and Wednesday night? For the next twelve weeks? Shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He reached for the door, but I
stopped him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Justin, wait.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He looked back at me, eyebrows
up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“One question before you go.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He shrugged and took his hand off
the doorknob. “Sure, go ahead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I moistened my lips. “What are
you doing? Here, I mean? In my class?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A lifetime ago, I’d loved that
grin, but this time it just made me want to throw a textbook at him. Especially
when he added a breath of quiet laughter and said, “Learning algebra.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And with that, he was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And I was alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Again.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-9666690944231393932014-01-29T15:31:00.003-08:002014-01-29T15:31:36.344-08:00EXCERPT: DisengagedTitle: Disengaged<br />
Author: Lauren Gallagher<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Tuesdays were nearly
always dead in the pompously high-end jewelry store where I was miserably
employed, and tonight was no exception. Aside from the other peons on the
payroll and the occasional lone customer, the store was deserted, and we were too
perilously close to Valentine’s Day for the store to be this empty. That
probably just meant that the last few days before the fourteenth, the mall
would be teeming with panicked husbands, fiancés, boyfriends, other halves, and
unsuspecting soon-to-be-exes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
But couldn’t they all
come in tonight? At least that would have made the time go by quickly, and
maybe kept my mind off the expected-but-unexpected end of my longtime
relationship less than twenty-four hours earlier. I hadn’t said anything to the
other girls. I hadn’t quite processed it myself, beyond wondering where I’d
live and how I’d pay rent while Derek worked on selling our condo.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Oh, well. The Valentine’s
Day customers would be along in due time. For now, I had a few minutes to flip
through an apartment guide and get an idea where I’d be living in the
foreseeable future.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Two bedroom. Nice view.
Way too expensive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
One bedroom. Affordable.
Shitty part of town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Two bedroom. Moderately
expensive. Brutal commute.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Studio. Affordable.
Roughly the same size as a postage stamp.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I set the guide down.
Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my tired eyes. The few places I’d found that
would have worked didn’t have anything available until the first of March or
even April. Derek wasn’t throwing me out, but I wasn’t staying in our shared
condo a moment longer than I had to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Tara, my manager, dropped
into the chair behind another desk. “Fucking tire kickers.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I looked up. “Again?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
She nodded. “Tried on
every damned watch in the case, but heaven forbid they actually buy one.” She
rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Did they say they’d come
back?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Of course.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Maybe they will.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Our eyes met and we both
burst out laughing. “I’ll come back” was customer-speak for “thanks, but no
thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
She nodded toward the
front of the store. “Incoming.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I looked up to see two
women hovering near the sapphire and ruby case. I put my apartment guide under
a stack of papers and made my way to the case.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Is there something I can
help you with?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The redhead nodded and
gestured at a pendant in the case. “How much is that necklace?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Let me have a look.” I
unlocked the case and pulled out the pendant in question. I checked the tag.
“Ninety-nine dollars even.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The girl scowled and
looked at her companion, whose expression was equally displeased. “Ugh, I knew
he was a cheapskate.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I cocked my head. “Are
there any other pendants you’d like to see?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“No, thanks.” She pointed
at the one in front of me. “My boyfriend got me that one for my birthday, and I
just wanted to see how much he’d spent.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The other girl snickered.
“Told you he wouldn’t crack a hundred.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Not surprised at all,”
the first said with a disgusted look. “Think he’ll do better for Valentine’s
Day?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Not a chance.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I watched them go. After
they’d disappeared into the current of passing people, I looked at the pendant
and sighed. So that was romance these days. A price tag. A dollar figure that
determined if someone was worthy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I shoved the pendant back
in and locked the case. This week wasn’t doing a hell of a lot to restore my
faith in love.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Sighing, I picked up a
bottle of glass cleaner and a rag to wipe down some cases. Above the
anniversary band case, the clock on the green marble wall, with its pretentious
faux gold Roman numerals and razor-thin hands, announced it was ten minutes
until six. That meant the rest of my co-workers would be returning from their
dinner breaks, and as if on cue, in they came.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Monica with her bouffant hair
that was so highlighted it was almost zebra-striped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Gail beneath piles of jewelry and layers of
makeup.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Shari in a vivid red suit
with a short skirt that must have left her <i>freezing</i>
when she went outside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
As everyone clocked back
in, Monica paused to preen in front of one of the many mirrors on the wall. She
scrutinized her reflection, smoothing her meticulously styled hair and
adjusting the blouse that barely contained her ample upper body. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I resisted the impulse to
roll my eyes, instead turning my attention back to cleaning glass. I’d been in
this business for a few years, and as much as we were encouraged to dress
professionally, there was an unspoken assumption we would also dress to use our
own assets to our advantage. The men got away with traditional business suits,
but it was just sort of expected that “if you’ve got it, flaunt it” applied to
the women. The flashier the better, especially if flashy was combined with
sexy. Exposed cleavage, clothing a couple sizes too tight, and of course,
bright colors. Even some of the upper managers dressed like colorblind peacocks.
Tara and I swore our district manager’s wardrobe was made up of clothing
rejected by Cirque du Soleil for being too loud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
And it was no wonder
customers assumed we were allowed to wear jewelry out of the case—ears and
necks dripped with diamonds and gold. Bracelets jingled against Rolex watches.
Fingers glittered with enormous rings. I was pretty sure Gail had the gross
domestic product of three small countries on her right hand alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Then there were the heavily-scented
hand lotions everyone slathered on in between marinating in cheap fragrances.
Our store was a nauseating cornucopia of odors, from the on-site jeweler’s
pungent torch to the perfumes that could double as chemical weapons. Stray
garlic and grease fumes from the nearby food court rounded it out, making
Friedman’s smell more like a street fair than a high-end jewelry store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I picked up a bottle of
glass cleaner and wandered to the Rolex case to wipe all the fingerprints off
and make room for more. Same shit, different day. I glanced at myself in one of
the seven billion mirrors in the gleaming store, meeting my own narrowed,
glazed eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Jesus. When had I become
so damned cynical about <i>everything</i>?
This wasn’t me. Except the last few months, it had been. But why?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Sighing, I looked at
Gail. She’d been here nearly twenty years. Monica, almost ten. Shari and Tara,
five apiece in this store and heaven knew how long at different companies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
And I’d been here six.
Six years of my life I was never getting back. I’d known for some time I wasn’t
happy with my relationship or my job, but this close on the heels of the
former’s end, the latter was even less bearable.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>God, why am I here?</i> Six years in this place, four and a half with
Derek, five since I’d applied to college for those classes I’d never gotten
around to taking. How had this happened? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Where the hell was my
life going, and why did I feel like it was going there without me?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Time to start looking for
a new job. I was in the market for a new apartment and, eventually, a new man.
Might as well shuffle everything around while I was at it. I made a mental note
to browse some employment websites when I got home tonight. That, and I’d
peruse that degree program I’d been putting off for the last five years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
A set of sharp,
deliberate footsteps broke away from the steady rhythm of mall traffic, getting
louder with every step. Time to put on the game face. I forced a smile, looked
up, and—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Oh, <i>hello</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Highly polished black
dress shoes, black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and the most arresting pair of
blue eyes I had ever seen. His dark hair was neat and messy at the same time;
that tousled, spiky look that was like a deliberate form of bedhead. The kind
of hair that just begged me to run my fingers through it. He was slender, but
still had shoulders broad enough to be sheltering if he wrapped his arms around
someone, hips narrow enough to—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Easy, Amber</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
My mouth went dry, but I
somehow managed to choke out a greeting. “Hi, welcome to Friedman’s.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
He smiled, which didn’t
do a damned thing to bring my pulse back down. “Hi.” There was a hint of
shyness in his voice and the brief downward shift of his gaze. “I, um…” He
furrowed his brow, looking at some of the watches between us, something
apparently catching his eye. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to
drink in the sight of him, if only for a second longer. Just below his lapel
was a sleek black nametag with the logo for Christy’s, the swanky bar across
the street from the mall. Under the logo, in white lettering, <i>Jeremy</i>. I could certainly see why my
co-workers went there for after-work drinks all the time. The scenery alone was
worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Before I’d stared for an
awkwardly long time, I said, “Is there something I can help you find?” The
automatic words came in spite of my dry mouth and tied tongue. I wasn’t so sure
I could improvise anything at the moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Yeah, I…” A watch held
his attention for another second before he met my eyes, and a hint of color
darkened his cheeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Looking for a Rolex?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Jeremy shook his head.
“Actually, I’m looking for…” Another downward flick. Eye contact again. More
color. He cleared his throat. “An engagement ring.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Of course he is. All the hot ones are here for engagement rings</i>. I
resisted the urge to groan aloud. <i>Thanks,
universe. That is one sick, sick joke, you know that</i>?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-29075571422128975412014-01-22T16:35:00.002-08:002014-01-22T16:35:42.989-08:00EXCERPT: Search MeTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/The_Cover_Me_Trilogy.html#searchanchor">Search Me</a> </i>(Cover Me #3)<br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
<br />
(Note: This excerpt contains what might be considered spoilers for book #1)<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Gun in both hands, I inched down the hall of
Nick’s apartment. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my nerve
endings tingling and my senses on high alert for any indication there was
someone here. So far, the apartment was empty. Nothing had been disturbed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Nick,” I said over my shoulder, keeping my voice
down, “did you leave your bedroom door open or closed?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I don’t know. Probably closed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I pursed my lips. Up ahead, the door was ajar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As I took another step forward, I said, “Stay up against
the wall.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Fabric rustled behind me, so I didn’t look back to
make sure he’d done as I asked. Instead, I continued toward the door, listening
for any movement beyond it. If Jesse was here, he could be in any state of
mind. Lucid. Volatile. Going through withdrawal. In the middle of a high. The
kid was mentally ill anyway, plus he was a crack addict. After he’d attacked
Nick the other night, breaking his nose and nearly strangling him, there was no
predicting what would be going on in the kid’s head now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
At the door, I paused for a moment, listening.
Then I nudged the door open with my foot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Everything happened so fast. So goddamned fast. He
must have been completely still, completely silent, and I didn’t see him until
he raised the gun. Until the muzzle flash startled me, sent me stumbling back
in the same instant fire ripped across the side of my arm and a donkey kick’s
worth of force hit the center of my chest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick tried to steady me, but we both went down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As he scrambled to his feet, I gripped my upper
arm. It was a minor wound. Grazed me. My chest ached where my vest had stopped
the second bullet, and breathing took some extra effort, but it was nothing
serious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And Jesse was still here.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Are you okay?” Nick asked. Concern and fear were
etched all over his bruised, cut-up face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“The gun.” I coughed, then spoke through clenched
teeth. “Get my gun.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The pistol that had been in my hands had fallen
just beyond the open doorway, so Nick took the revolver from my ankle holster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
From the other side of the doorway came a
hysterical, familiar voice: “Oh God, oh God, oh God… ”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, put the gun down,” I called out. I moved
to my knees. “Jesse… ”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” came
the shrill, shaky response. “I didn’t mean to, Mark, I didn’t—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse,
just calm down.” I kept my voice low. The kid only knew me by my undercover
name, and probably had no idea I was a cop. He was already delusional and had
long ago bought into a charade my partner and I had put on for months. As I
tried to figure out how to defuse this situation, I noticed Jesse had dropped
his weapon. The noise and the kick must have scared the shit out of him. That,
or he’d realized he’d hit me—not Nick, the one he probably wanted to shoot—and
freaked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Dropping my voice a little lower, I said, “Nick.
His gun. It’s on the floor.” I nodded toward the bedroom.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick looked. Then he turned to me and mouthed,
“What do I do?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Just stay there.” I gestured at the revolver in
his hand. “Aim the gun at the doorway.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He cocked his head. “Aim the—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Just do it. He goes anywhere near either gun, do
not hesitate to fire.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick nodded and drew the hammer back. He swallowed
hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing between the purple and red welts across the
front of his throat. I thought he shuddered. He had to have been scared out of
his mind, but he did as I said, adopting the shooting stance I’d taught him and
aiming his weapon at the bedroom doorway.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, move where I can see you,” I ordered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, no, I can’t, it’s—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, move where I can see you. Now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Tentative, unseen movement shuffled across carpet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, I’m not fucking around.” I sucked in a
breath as I gingerly pushed myself to my feet, still clutching my wounded arm.
“Get in front of the doorway with your hands in the air and don’t touch that
gun. Come on, Jesse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Another step.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Can you see him?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Not yet,” Nick said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Come on, Jesse,” I barked. “Now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Please don’t shoot me,” came the shrill voice
from the other side. He was crying now, almost hyperventilating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’m not going to shoot you unless you reach for a
gun,” Nick said. “Come out now, or I’m coming in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Jesse stepped into view. His eyes were wild with
fury and probably no shortage of chemical influence, but also red from crying.
His hands were up and his face was blotchy, vertical streaks marking where
tears had cut through the dirt on his skin. He struggled just to breathe in
between sobbing, and when he looked past Nick and saw me, he cried even harder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh God,” he moaned. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m sorry…”
He whimpered and shook, brushing frantically at his arms like he had unseen
insects crawling all over him. His legs trembled under him as he rocked back
and forth. Fuck. He was probably coming off a high, maybe even a binge, and if
ever a crackhead was going to be volatile and dangerous, this was it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, put your hands back up,” Nick said calmly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Jesse’s hysteria shifted to anger when he glared
at Nick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Fuck you. I wanted to hit you, not…” He looked at
me again and crumbled into renewed crying. “Mark, oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean to! I’m so...” He mumbled something after that, sobbing and struggling to
speak. He started to sink to the floor, way too close to my gun for comfort.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Stand up, Jesse,” Nick said sharply. “Stand up
and put your hands where I can see them. Now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
Jesse obeyed, but stared at Nick with nothing but rage in
his eyes. “You killed Chelsea.” His voice cracked and he blinked rapidly. “You
killed her! I saw you, I saw you and I tried to save her…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, I didn’t kill anyone.” Nick’s voice shook,
but the gun in his hands stayed rock steady.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Listen to him, Jesse,” I said. “He didn’t kill
anyone. Chelsea’s alive. She’s fine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, she’s not," Jesse said. “I’m not stupid,
Mark. I saw her. I fucking saw her.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“And you damn near killed me,” Nick growled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Jesse crumbled into incomprehensible crying and
mumbling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Struggling to keep my voice calm, I said, “Chelsea
is not dead, Jesse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You’re both lying.” Jesse’s voice inched toward
even greater hysteria. He tore at his own hair, wavering back and forth on
shaking knees. “She’s dead. I saw her, and they moved everything out of her
house and took it all away, and—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Jesse, I can call her,” Nick said. “We’ll let you
talk to her. She’s alive, I promise.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
Jesse clutched his hair and shook his head and fidgeted. “You’re
lying. You’re lying. I’m not stupid, Mark. I’m not stupid and she’s dead. I saw
her, I saw what he did to her, I saw it, you—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“She’s not dead, Jesse,” Nick said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You’re lying!” All at once, Jesse lunged and Nick
fired. The sound and recoil must have caught him off guard, especially with the
vertigo from his concussion, and he grabbed the doorframe for balance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Jesse dropped to the floor, screaming. For about
two seconds, I thought he was neutralized and this might be over, but then he went
for one of the guns.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Nick! The gun!” Without thinking, I shoved Nick
out of the way. A gunshot. Pain. More shots.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I dropped to my knees, holding my arm. The wound
was worse than it had been earlier. Far worse. No, no, it wasn’t. This was a
new one. A deeper, bloodier one, right through my upper arm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh, fuck… ”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A hand materialized on my shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick’s voice sounded far away as he said, “Are you—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Get the gun,” I said through my teeth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick left my side. I was vaguely aware of
movement, of Jesse moaning beside me, but more than anything, I was aware of
the hot blood slipping through my fingers and over the back of my hand. My head
spun. I slumped forward, my vision turning black, and from nowhere, Nick was
beside me again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Easy,” he said. “Lie back.” He guided me onto my
back, which slowed some of the spinning. Then he was gone again. Panic rose in
my throat, alternately directed at the wound, my waning consciousness, and
Nick’s absence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His voice and presence returned. “Look, I’m a
paramedic and one of these guys might be bleeding out.” <i>Who is he talking to?</i> “I need both hands to do this. Just send help
and send it now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A second later, something clattered beside me. A
gun? A phone? Fuck if I knew, because the pain in my arm worsened. Someone was
moving my arm. Squeezing it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Keep a tight grip on this.” Nick guided my hand
to a towel he’d wrapped around my arm. “Hold it against your side. It’s going
to hurt like hell, but don’t let go of it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I gripped the towel, which sent daggers of pain
shooting through the wound. “Fuck, that hurts.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“It’s going to. But don’t let go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I
looked around at the blood and bullet holes in the room. “Looks like you’re
fucked for your damage deposit,” I muttered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick chuckled. “And I thought I had a dark sense
of humor.” He nodded at my arm. “Keep holding that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He started to stand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Panicked, I seized his wrist. “Wait, where are you
going?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick gestured at Jesse. “I have to help him. He’s
bleeding badly. I’m not going far and help is on its way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Nick…” My heart pounded. My head spun faster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>Don’t leave
me like this. Nick, don’t leave. Don’t go, please.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But he got up. As I fought to stay conscious, to
see through the pain and my fading vision, he got up and walked away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He walked away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He walked away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>Nick… don’t
leave me like this… <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
~ * ~<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My eyes flew open and I pulled in a breath.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That same fucking dream again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wanted to tell myself it wasn’t real, that it
was just a damned dream, but I knew better. Sighing I rubbed my eyes. The dull
ache in my other arm reminded me that no amount of “it’s not real” would change
the fact that the dream <i>was</i> real. It
had happened. The better part of a year ago, yes, but whether it had happened
back then or just now, it was anything but “not real.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I fidgeted, cursing under my breath. No wonder my
arm ached: it was pressed between the back of the couch and me. I moved just
enough to free my arm, then raised it, bending and straightening my elbow
gingerly. Same thing had happened last night. One of these days, maybe I’d
learn how to sleep on the couch without fucking up my arm. Like facing the
other direction or something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Then again, it would all be a moot point if I just
got up and stayed in the bedroom, but I couldn’t. Not now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I couldn’t sleep in the bedroom because Nick was
gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I was used to spending nights apart, but this was
different. This wasn’t like when he stayed at the firehouse for his three day shifts.
During his rotations, he was gone for a few nights, and when that was over, he
came through the front door in the morning, sleepy-eyed and exhausted, shortly before
I went to work. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Not this time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He was really gone this time. Not moved out yet,
but all it would take was a borrowed pickup truck, some cardboard boxes, and a
few hours to take care of that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He hadn’t decided yet if this was permanent, but
it didn’t feel temporary to me. There’d been too much finality in the click of
the front door two nights ago. He hadn’t stormed out. He hadn’t slammed the
door. He’d just quietly said he couldn’t fight anymore that night, that he had
to go, <i>needed</i> to go—<i>Nick, please, don’t go</i>—and then he’d
slipped through my fingers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I exhaled and rubbed my forehead, swallowing the
lump that kept trying to rise in my throat. We’d had problems for a while now,
but I’d been <i>so sure</i> we’d be all
right. Even when we’d fought and couldn’t stand the sight of each other, when we’d
gone days on end without speaking, I’d known we’d make it through. Somehow,
we’d make it through.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I’d thought we would, anyway. There’d never been
any doubt in my mind that what we had was solid enough to weather damn near
anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Now, all I knew was that Nick’s side of the bed
was empty.</div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-11021523226872992832014-01-22T09:41:00.001-08:002014-01-22T09:41:18.623-08:00EXCERPT: Trust MeTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/The_Cover_Me_Trilogy.html#trustanchor">Trust Me</a> (Cover Me Book #2)</i><br />
Author: L.A. Witt<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“<i>This is
James, sorry I’m away from my phone, but leave a message and I’ll call you
back.</i>” <i>Beep</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I cursed under my breath and dropping my phone
unceremoniously into the cup holder. He’d left a voicemail this morning about
going out tonight, and he’d asked me to call him back, but he hadn’t answered
his phone all damned day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Letting my head fall back against the headrest, I
sighed. I wanted to say this wasn’t like him, but lately, it was. For the first
several months we’d dated, everything had been fine. Over the last three, though,
things had changed. Long periods with his phone shut off at odd times of the
day or night. Calls and texts returned hours after the fact when he used to
call back right away. A suggestion of plans, only to invariably have something
come up. Voicemails he conveniently didn’t have a chance to return until I
called, at which point he was always <i>just</i>
about to call me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. It
wasn’t like I was a high maintenance man or anything. I didn’t expect him to be
at my beck and call. There was something about his silences and cryptic
explanations that didn’t sit well, though. The question was, did my suspicions
come from being a once-bitten boyfriend, or was it just the habit of a homicide
detective whose entire job revolved around picking apart little tells and
details to see if someone was lying? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Whatever the case, sitting out here in the diner’s
parking lot with an empty stomach wasn’t going to get me any closer to figuring
out my other half’s transgressions. Muttering a string of profanity, I got out
of the car and went inside. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My partner, Max Kessler, had already commandeered
a booth and ordered coffee. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He pushed one of the three cups toward me. “Problems
with the boyfriend again?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yep.” I took a seat and pulled a couple of sugar packets
out of the ceramic holder beside the napkin dispenser. “How’d you guess?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He laughed. “What else pisses you off and has you
ready to throw your phone through a window when we’re supposed to be enjoying a
relaxed dinner?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Good point.” I tightened my jaw. “Yeah, still
having problems with him.” Max was one of the few guys on the force who knew I
was gay, and it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He’d invited me to
countless barbecues with his family, and whoever I was dating at the time had
always been welcome. Yet another reason we’d worked so well together for this
long. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“When are you going to just dump his ass?” Max
eyed me over the rim of his cup. “If he’s making you this miserable…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Unless he comes up with a damned good excuse,” I
said as I stirred cream into my coffee, “he’s gone tonight. I’m over it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. I didn’t
blame him for his skepticism. How many times had I said that in recent weeks?
Even I didn’t believe me anymore. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The diner door opened, and Max glanced up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Ah, there he is.” He waved, and I didn’t have to
look to know who’d joined us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A second later, Andrew Carmichael slid into the
booth next to me. “Sorry I’m late. Physical therapy ran over. <i>Again</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’re just getting
here ourselves. How’s the arm?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He scowled at his right arm, which was in a sling.
“Improving slowly. Emphasis on the ‘slowly’, not the ‘improving.’” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Could be worse.” Max slid the third cup of coffee
across the table to Andrew.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“That it could,” Andrew said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I can’t believe they still have you in a sling
after all this time, though,” Max said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh, that’s just because of the surgery last week.
They had to go in and get all—” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t want to know right before I eat,” Max said,
putting up a hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew laughed. “Don’t want the gory details?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, thank you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Bit of a weak stomach for your line of work,
don’t you think?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I can handle it, it’s just not appetizing
pre-meal conversation, thank you very much.” Max gestured at Andrew’s injured
arm. “Any idea when you’ll have full use again?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew shrugged with the other shoulder. “Another
six months? A year? Who knows? It’s better now that they’ve taken out some of
the scar tissue, but…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max shuddered. “Ugh, man, I do <i>not</i> envy you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You don’t?” Andrew grinned. “Come on, everyone
wants a badass battle scar.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Battle scars are fine and good,” Max said.
“Losing the use of my arm? No thanks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You don’t know the half of it,” Andrew muttered,
and focused on stirring sugar into his coffee. He was getting more and more
adept at using his left hand for tasks like that, but it wasn’t quite second
nature yet. Laying the spoon beside the cup, he said, “So, what’s new on the
streets these days?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Same shit, different day,” I said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“He asked about the streets, not your love life,”
Max said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew cocked his head. “Christ, Brian, don’t tell
me you’re still having problems with James.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’m still having problems with James.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew’s eyebrows pulled together in a sympathetic
expression. “You know, I think you’re onto something with him. I mean,
everything you’ve told me, I’d be surprised as fuck if he didn’t have someone
on the side.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yeah, I know,” I said quietly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You really think he’s got another man?” Max
asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I winced. “Maybe. That, or a woman.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I didn’t know he swung both ways,” Max said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t, but quite honestly, I
don’t know anymore.” I sighed. “So help me, though, if he is, and uses that as
an excuse to cheat…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew sniffed. “He plays that card, I’ll turn
Nick loose on him. Nothing pisses him off more than cheaters using the bisexual
excuse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No kidding.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew’s boyfriend was as bi as the day was long,
but there wasn’t a man or woman alive who could turn Nick’s attention away from
Andrew. In spite of the tension between them since their respective injuries, I
envied the two of them. I couldn’t say if they were simply <i>that</i> in love, or if they just refused to take anything for granted
after nearly losing each other, but even when they were sniping constantly,
their relationship was what I ached for, whether with James or anyone else.
They’d put their lives on the line for each other before and would do it again
in a heartbeat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Well,” I said, “I don’t even know if he’s
cheating or not. Maybe he isn’t. Fuck knows what he <i>is</i> doing, though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew shook his head. “I’m not kidding, man, if
he’s that much of a headache, just cut him loose.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“He’s right, Brian,” Max said. “You have enough
stress in your life. You of all people do not need this shit, especially these
days.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I absently stirred my coffee, but didn’t say
anything. They were right. I knew they were right. God knew I’d discussed this
with both of them a dozen times in the last month or so, and I was running out
of justification for keeping James around. The fact that he hadn’t even met my
two closest friends after all this time—neither of us had met the other’s
friends or family—was one of the many chinks in the armor of our relationship.
I’d suggested it, he’d balked, and whenever he’d relented enough to make plans
with someone, he found a reason to bail at the last minute.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Oh, no, I wasn’t being jerked around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
About the only reason I stuck around lately was
the mind-blowing sex, and even that was happening less and less. For me,
anyway. He probably had plenty these days.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Well, it would help if I could reach him.” I set
the spoon beside my coffee cup. “Kind of hard to dump a guy’s ass when I can’t
even talk to him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew shrugged. “Just stop calling him, then.
Quit returning his calls, block his number, whatever you have to do.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Exactly.” Max inclined his head. “Okay, I’m not
exactly Dr. Phil here, and you know I wouldn’t normally pry into your personal
life, but this guy’s games are taking their toll on your ability to do your
job. He’s gotta go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Pursing my lips, I rubbed my forehead. “God, I
don’t need this shit.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, you don’t,” Andrew said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That was an understatement. The city was a few
months into a grisly, escalating crime wave, and the last thing a homicide
detective needed was to be distracted by a philandering boyfriend while trying
to solve these damned cases.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I exhaled and shook my head. “Well, I’ll deal with
him after work. For now, I need some food before I put my fist through
something.” It was damn near six in the evening, and we had just now found a few
minutes to stop for a bite to eat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max laughed. “Skipped breakfast again, did we?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I was in a hurry.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Uh-huh.” He eyed me, then laughed. “Do I need to
have Anna keep after you like she keeps after me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Oh, no, you signed up for that, not me.” I chuckled.
“<i>You’re</i> the one who married a woman
with an iron fist.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Come on, now, she’s not that bad.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“<i>Sure</i>
she isn’t.” I looked at Andrew. “By the way, how are things going with your
better half?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He laughed half-heartedly. “Same shit, different
day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I furrowed my brow. “Everything okay?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With a dismissive gesture, he said, “Just ironing
things out. Same as it’s been for a while.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Good God,” Max said with a wry grin. “Every time
I tell myself gay guys have it easy not having to deal with women, I just have
to listen to the two of you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Andrew laughed. “Says the man married to the pit
bull.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“The <i>toy</i>
pit bull,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max chuckled. He started to say something further,
but his ringing cell phone stopped him, and he picked it up. “Kessler.” Pause.
He stiffened, and I knew that change in posture well. He looked at me and gave
a slight nod.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I groaned. I was never going to get to eat today,
damn it. To Andrew, I said, “Looks like we have to bail.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the coffee.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Great. I’ll pay you back next time I see you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t sweat it. See you guys back at the
precinct.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
On the way to my car, my heart pounded. Preemptive
adrenaline flooded my veins like it always did before we arrived at a crime
scene. I’d been to countless murders in my career, but I never knew what to
expect. It could be anything from a house with a stabbed body to a meat locker
filled with mutilated corpses. I couldn’t say there was never a dull moment in
this job—the infinite amounts of paperwork ensured there were plenty—but there
was no shortage of chaos, either.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“We’re about ten minutes from the scene,” Max said
to the voice on the other end. “On our way now.” He shoved his phone into his
pocket. “Multiple homicide in Masontown. Club on Jackson and Sixth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Of course it’s Masontown.” I pulled out of the
parking lot and turned. That area, the “bad” part of town by a mile, was the
hub of the city’s massive drug problem. In the last three months, there’d been
more bloodshed there than in the entire city last year. A major drug ring had
gone down about a year ago, and now there was a turf war going between the
three remaining rings. While I wasn’t involved with narcotics, homicide had
been spending more and more time in the neighborhood recently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
If I had to rank every crime scene I’d set foot in
during my career, most of the top ten grisliest had been in this very
neighborhood. Three of those had been in the last few months, and hazmat and
crime scene cleanup were <i>still</i> scrubbing
the walls and floors of one of them. Two homicide detectives and three patrol
officers had resigned or transferred out. One undercover had been murdered.
Another was still on disability after a near-fatal wound. The chief had almost
pulled the plug on all undercover ops for officer safety, but those still
working under cover had insisted on staying. In spite of the risk, they were
close to taking out the neighborhood’s entire drug economy from the top all the
way down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
For their sake, I hoped they were right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A few blocks from the scene, an ambulance went
screaming past us in the opposite direction. A block away, another went by, its
flashing lights reflecting off the countless “for sale” and “for lease” signs
in the windows of businesses and apartments.. I couldn’t say I blamed all the
residents and business owners for wanting to get the hell out of here by way of
a moving van as opposed to an ambulance like the one disappearing in the
rearview.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I get the feeling this one’s going to be messy,”
Max said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“It’s a multiple in Masontown and they’re calling
us in.” I glanced in the rearview again. “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Up ahead, it didn’t take much to figure out we’d
found the right club. Had it been after dark, this would have been a hell of a
light show. There must have been a dozen sets of light bars in front of the
club, some blue, mostly red. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
What little of the street wasn’t occupied by
emergency vehicles was crammed full of news vans. Fucking vultures. I’d never
been fond of them, but I’d developed an allergy to the media ever since their
insatiable need for sensational headlines had kept Andrew’s boyfriend in the
spotlight long enough for a stalker to find and nearly kill both of them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I parked beside one of the news vans, and we got
out and shouldered our way through the gathered crowd. We were plainclothes
detectives, so some bystanders tried to keep us from pushing through and
blocking their prime view of the carnage, but a flash of the badge was enough
to get them out of the way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A perimeter of barricades and yellow police tape
divided the eerily normal-looking sidewalk from the crowd of onlookers. Several
patrol officers loitered outside to keep people back and make sure no one made
it past the line who didn’t have a reason to be in that club.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Upon seeing our badges, a uniformed officer held
up the yellow tape to let us duck under it. When we were on the other side of
the line and safely away from the prying ears of bystanders, he extended a
hand. “Officer Rowland.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Detectives Kessler and Clifton,” Max said. “What
do we know so far?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Looks like a sting gone bad,” Rowland said.
“Dealers and undercovers. Wasn’t pretty.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max and I exchanged glances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Casualties?” I asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The officer exhaled. “Two wounded cops, one dead.
Four dead civilians and a few with varying injuries.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My stomach flipped. “Jesus.” We’d been to some
bloody crime scenes recently, but this was bad.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Lowering his voice, Max asked, “The cops, you got
names?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The officer pursed his lips and released a long
breath through his nose. “All undercover detectives.” He flipped through the
pages of a notepad in his hand. “Rick Paulson had some minor injuries, and John
Kelly is in serious condition. Vince Gray was DOA.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max winced. I squeezed his shoulder gently,
offering a sympathetic grimace. He and Gray had been friends longer than Max
and I had. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
After a moment, he took a deep breath and we made
eye contact. He gave a slight nod, the classic Max Kessler <i>I’m okay</i> gesture, and I released his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“What about witnesses?” he asked Rowland. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No eyewitnesses left standing,” he said. “The
shooting happened in the VIP lounge. Apparently there was some sort of meeting
going down, and something went to shit. Bystanders were hit when a shooter ran
through the kitchen area in pursuit of someone. Otherwise, anyone who saw anything
is gone, wounded, or dead. A few of the detectives were out of the room when it
started, but didn’t see much. Got in just in time to squeeze off a few shots
and lose the shooter and a witness out the back door.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Let’s go have a look,” Max said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Without a word, I followed him inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
Chapter 2<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The club was swankier than most places in this
area, and was a known hangout for dealers, pimps, and anyone else who could
afford a velvet-rope night in this chain link and razor wire neighborhood. Above
the tables, top shelf liquor flowed. Below it, stacks of bills and bags of
white powder changed hands. With the right combination of cash and a wink, a waitress
could be compelled to meet a customer in the restroom or the alley behind the
club. The place was all dressed up and pretty, but that illusion was only skin
deep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The VIP lounge was a completely separate room,
divided from the rest of the club by a narrow hallway, and the wall
perpendicular to that hallway was backed up against another hall dividing the
lounge from the kitchen. The room was dimly lit to give it an intimate
atmosphere, and the handful of chairs and booths were appointed with deep red
leather. I’d heard from the undercovers that all kinds of things went on in
here. Over beers one night, a former undercover told me that in the course of
an hour in this room, he’d witnessed a marriage proposal <i>and</i> a negotiation for a hit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Now? The place looked like a fucking warzone.
Either this had been a gunfight or a damned massacre. Since there were bullet
holes and bloodstains on every wall and broken glass all over the room, it was
likely the former. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The air was pungent with the brassy, all-too-familiar
smell of blood. A hell of a lot of blood. The odor overpowered the fading
scents of grease, bread, and spices coming in through the open door between the
lounge and the kitchen, as well as lingering traces of gunpowder and hot metal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Three forensic photographers inched their way
around the room, documenting every last detail that could prove significant.
Numbered plastic placards had been placed beside shell casings, blood spatter,
broken glass, and toppled furniture. The dead remained wherever they’d fallen,
creating macabre shapes beneath bloodstained sheets while they waited for the
coroner. A pistol lay beside an unmoving hand sticking out from beneath a
sheet. Next to one booth, inches from a corpse’s leg, a dropped magazine raised
the hairs on the back of my neck. Whatever had happened here, someone had run
out of ammunition and had taken the time—had <i>had</i> the time—to reload. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Blood covered a half-eaten sandwich and an
abandoned beer beside a slumped, sheet-draped body. That was something that
never failed to creeped me out—food at crime scenes. It was one of those eerie
reminders that life had been something close to normal before all hell had
broken loose. To the person hunched over beneath the blood-stained sheet, this
day had probably started out like any other. Most people didn’t order a
sandwich when they knew they were about to be murdered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Max knelt beside one of the bodies to have a
closer look. I followed the sound of voices out of the room, hoping for a
witness who could run me through the events that had turned the lounge into a
bloodbath.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My partner and I often split up at murder scenes.
One of us inspected the immediate crime scene while the other checked the less
obvious places for signs of what may have happened before and after—discarded
weapons, bloody clothes stuffed in closets, smudges of blood in bathtub and
sink drains.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In the kitchen area, I ran into Andrew’s
boyfriend, Nick Swain. He worked as a paramedic, and the firehouse he reported
to was woefully understaffed, so it was never a surprise to run into him if
there were survivors at a crime scene. He leaned against the doorway with a
clipboard in his hand. Furrowing his brow, he alternately wrote on the
clipboard and kept an eye on his partner, who attended someone with minor wounds.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Hey,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He looked up. “Oh hey, Brian.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I might need to borrow him when you’re done.” I
nodded at the patient. “Doesn’t sound like we got a lot of witnesses.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“He won’t be much use. He was a bystander. Tangled
with some broken glass taking cover when a cop pursued the shooter through the
kitchen. He didn’t see or hear much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Still, I need everything I can get,” I said.
“Even if it’s just the number of shots he heard.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick nodded. “Leon’s almost done with him. The wounds
are minor, so we’re not taking him in.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“How serious were the other injuries? Did you get
a look at any of them?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Paulson was conscious and coherent. The bleeding
was mild and under control, but he was showing a few early signs of shock. He
should be fine, though.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“So I’ve potentially got at least one reliable
witness who’s still alive.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Two, if Kelly pulls through,” Nick said quietly.
“And I do mean <i>if</i>.” He grimaced.
“He’s in real bad shape.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I gestured for him to step away from Leon and his
patient so we were out of earshot. “How bad is he?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Massive thoracic trauma. I only got a look at him
while I triaged the scene, so I don’t know the actual extent, but…” He shook
his head again. “Judging by his vitals and the blood loss, it’s not good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Christ. He wasn’t wearing a vest?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Didn’t do him any good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Armor-piercing?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Nick nodded. “He was still alive when they left,
though. Anything’s possible.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Good to know.” My own vest made my skin crawl.
Sometimes these things were unnervingly useless. “I’ll let you get back to work.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yeah, ditto.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I clapped him on the shoulder and then continued
through the club. As I made the rounds, I found Detective Kent Avery leaning
against the deserted bar. He’d been working undercover for the last several
months, but I’d seen him around the precinct before. He looked a hell of a lot
different now, though, with smears of blood all over his shirt. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As he thumbed the screen on his cell phone, his
hands were remarkably steady, and he breathed slowly, evenly. On the outside,
he appeared completely calm, but I had no doubt he was rattled, just not
showing it. I was surprised no one was with him, either to ask him questions or
to make sure he was all right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I
approached cautiously. “Avery?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He looked at me, and a hint of recognition
manifested itself in a vague nod. “Clifton. Long time no see.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Would have preferred it under better
circumstances.” I extended my hand. “How are you holding up?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’ve had better days.” Ignoring my offer of a
handshake, he pushed himself away from the bar. “If you’ve got questions about
it, I’ve already answered all of them.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I withdrew my hand. “Hey, I was just seeing how
you were doing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“My partner’s on his way to the hospital with
three bullets in him. How do you <i>think</i>
I’m doing?” With that, he turned and stalked off. As I watched him go down the
hall and disappear out into the alley behind the club, I was simultaneously
taken aback by his hostility and sympathetic to his mood. He and his partner
were as close as Max and me. Being on the verge of losing someone who’s covered
your back that many times was bound to fuck with someone’s head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Which made me wonder why he was even still here,
but there was nothing he could do for John anyway. Maybe he needed to fall back
on his work. We’d all been known to throw ourselves into our investigations to
escape stress and trauma, though I wasn’t so sure about the idea of sticking
around if I’d been in his shoes. Whatever got him through, I supposed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I shuddered and went back into the lounge. For a
moment, I just took in the scene, trying to picture what had gone down. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A bullet hole, splattered blood, and a long smear
down one wall led my eyes to one of the bodies. Another body was sprawled
across a bench in one booth. A few feet away was yet another, this one crumpled
between a booth and a side door, below a Johnnie Walker mirror that had two
bloody spiderweb cracks around bullet holes spaced about twelve inches apart. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Bullets had obviously flown in several different
directions, so I’d have to wait for ballistics to plot a diagram of
trajectories and bullet holes before I could piece together exactly what
happened. Witness statements would help. So far we only had one potentially
reliable witness. If Avery’s partner had been shot, odds were that Avery had
been nearby, if not in the room. How he’d managed to avoid taking a bullet, I
didn’t know, but thank God at least someone had escaped injury.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That may have explained his hostility, too.
Survivor’s guilt was a strange thing, and he probably didn’t want someone else
to ask him to rehash the moments in which his partner had taken three bullets
while <i>he’d</i> gotten away unscathed. I
still needed to ask him some questions, and he probably knew it, but there was
no reason I couldn’t give him some time to breathe first. After he’d had a few
cigarettes, and maybe Max and I had taken him someplace that didn’t have Detective
Kelly’s blood all over the floor, I could try again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
For now, time to check out the scene itself. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Find anything?” Max asked, glancing up from one
of the two bodies beside a booth as I walked into the lounge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Not so far.” I pulled on a pair of gloves.
“Avery’s pretty shaken up. He went out the back, so I figure I’ll try talking
to him again in a little while.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Good call.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“What about you? Anything interesting?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He shook his head. “Counting weapons and bodies,
seems like almost everyone who was here is either in an ambulance or…” His eyes
flicked up to meet mine. “<i>Still</i>
here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I gave a grunt of agreement, but didn’t say
anything else. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I squatted beside one of the bodies. There was a
long smear of blood beside him, like he’d tried to drag himself to cover after he’d
been wounded, only to die here. What a horrible way to die. I shuddered and
lifted the sheet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My heart stopped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Holy—” I stared at the body, eyes wide and lungs
paralyzed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“What’s wrong?” Max asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I lowered the sheet, but the face was still there
in my mind’s eye. The world spun around me, turning gray and black and white,
and I grabbed a table for stability. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A hand rested on my shoulder. “Easy, man.” Max
kept his voice low and even. “Breathe.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With considerable effort, I took and released a
breath. Gradually, my vision cleared, but my heart still forced ice cold blood
through my veins.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Brian? What’s wrong?” He glanced at the body.
“You recognize him or something?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I…” I swallowed hard. With the sheet back over
the body’s face, I questioned if I’d read all the features right. <i>Was</i> it him? <i>Did</i> I recognize him? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Was that really my boyfriend lying in a pool of
blood? <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-64266884188650341552014-01-19T14:36:00.004-08:002014-01-19T14:36:43.896-08:00EXCERPT: Cover MeTitle: Cover Me<br />
Author: L. A. Witt<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You know, if you keep sitting like that, you’re
going to break your damned legs one of these days.” Leon took his hand off the
steering wheel and gestured at my feet, which were on the ambulance’s passenger
side dashboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Only if you crash.” I glanced up from the clipboard
on my lap. “Though with the way you drive, that wouldn’t surprise me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hey, back off my driving. And if you’re that
worried I’m going to crash, put your goddamned feet down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’m not worried.” I signed the bottom of my report
and flipped to the next page. “Besides, if you do crash, and I do break my
legs, you have everything you need to put them back together.” I pointed with
my pen at the back of the bus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You keep your feet up like that, I’m going to let
you suffer when your legs break.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Keep staring at my legs instead of the road, and I
might have to tell Zoe I’ve turned you to my side.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He shot me a horrified look. “Oh, don’t you even
think about it, you son of a bitch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Then quit staring at my—hey! The road! Watch the
fucking road!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Leon looked up and swerved just in time to avoid
hitting the curb. “Now see? See? If I’d crashed just then—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“My legs would have been fine and I’d have used them
to kick your ass.” I glared at him, then went back to filling out my report. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He slowed the ambulance to a
stop at an intersection and stretched his arms while he waited for the light to
turn green. “Man, it’s getting to be dinner thirty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Dinner thirty?” I laughed. “It’s not even five
o’clock. Besides, weren’t you just eating before we left the station?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He let out a huff of breath. “Yes, Nick.” He threw
me a glare. “And I didn’t get to finish it because we left the station.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Damn those inconsiderate people.” I sighed dramatically
and put the back of my hand against my forehead. “Getting hurt and keeping you
away from your food.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He started to come back with something snide, but
the radio crackled to life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Code one, code one. Shooting at Jackson and
Fourteenth. Multiple casualties. All units respond.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We were just blocks away from the location. Leon and
I exchanged glances, and he gave a sharp nod. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I picked up the radio. “Dispatch, this is
Twenty-seven Alpha. On our way to Jackson and Fourteenth, over.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Leon accelerated through the intersection as he
flipped on the lights and siren. I dropped my clipboard and feet to the floor.
God only knew what the scene would be like, but I had little doubt there would
be blood and lots of it, so I went ahead and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Busy night in Masontown tonight, isn’t it?” he
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I didn’t reply. We’d already been to that
neighborhood once tonight, but that wasn’t unusual. Between the people so
wasted they couldn’t remember how to care for themselves and those who were too
poor to do so, Masontown was no stranger to flashing red lights. Sex and
substances were the staple crops of that place. This wasn’t the first shooting
we’d attended there, and I doubted it would be the last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As signs, cars, and buildings blurred past us, I
shifted into autopilot. Training kicked in, pushing emotions to the back of my
mind along with any thoughts I didn’t need for the task at hand. It wasn’t
apathy per se, but it was close—something to keep me calm and focused on the
clinical so I could do my job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">In minutes, we’d arrived at the scene. A small crowd
had gathered, but there were no flashing lights in sight except for our own
reflecting off cars and windows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Think it’s safe?” Leon asked. “Or do we wait for
the cops?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I surveyed the scene. With no police in sight, it
was our discretion to move in or wait. In this case, there didn’t appear to be
anyone brandishing a weapon, so it was probably safe for us to attend. That,
and shootings usually meant serious injuries that couldn’t wait long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Safe as it’s going to be.” I unbuckled my seatbelt.
“Let’s go.” I went into the back, grabbed the jump kit, and stepped outside. There
was blood on the pavement, panic in the air and four people on the ground. No
one else looked to be injured, but the wounded still outnumbered us for the
time being. Triaging the scene, I silently cursed the budget cuts that had only
two people manning the ambulance instead of three or four. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I could use a few
more pairs of hands right about now, you fucking bean counters.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I went from patient to patient, assessing wounds and
vitals as quickly as I could. Triaging a situation like this always did weird
things to the passage of time, or at least my perception of it. I moved in slow
motion while everyone around me was in fast forward, and even they couldn’t
keep up with the rapid fire ticking of the clock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">One male was in obvious pain with blood seeping
between his fingers as he gripped his upper arm. He was lucid, though, and not
in immediate danger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The other male was on the ground, semi-conscious and
bloody. His vitals were fairly stable, but the bleeding was significant and his
condition could quickly deteriorate at the drop of a hat. A few paces away, a woman
writhed and moaned in a blood-soaked shirt, clinging to the hand of a
bystander, who pressed a wadded rag against her chest. She was bleeding
profusely and her breathing was labored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The second woman lay motionless in a huge and rapidly
expanding pool of blood. The man kneeling beside her alternately screamed at
her to wake up and shouted at me to help her. Her vitals were bad and worsening
by the second, and had she been the only victim, I’d have helped her
immediately. With more wounded than medics, though, she was too far gone. I had
a better chance of saving the other three, so difficult decisions had to be
made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Glancing at Leon, I gestured at the unconscious
woman and the bleeding, cursing male. “She’s a black tag. He’s green.” Then I
pointed at the semi-conscious man and the moaning woman. “The other two are red.
You work on him and I’ll take care of her.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Leon nodded and we went to work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hey! Hey!” The man beside the dying woman screamed
as we both walked past her. “She needs help!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“We’re doing everything we can,” I said. “Backup is
on its way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“She’s going to die!” he shouted. “You gonna let her
die just because she’s black?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I gritted my teeth. There wasn’t time to explain to
him what ‘black tag’ meant, or that it had nothing to do with race. Though I
felt for him, and I certainly felt for the woman on the ground beside him, there
simply wasn’t time. With her plummeting vitals and that much blood loss, there
probably wasn’t much that could be done for her even if I had the manpower to try.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Kneeling beside the other woman, I looked at the man
by her side. Her husband, I assumed, judging by the gold ring on one blood-stained
hand and the way he gripped her hand with his other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What’s her name?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Her name?” I asked. Maybe my assumption was
incorrect. Maybe he wasn’t her—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Chelsea. Chelsea Wayland.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Chelsea? Can you hear me?” I touched her shoulder.
“Chelsea, my name is Nick. I’m here to help you. Can you hear me?” She moaned, which
could as easily have been in response to the pain as to the sound of my voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her husband looked over his shoulder, then back at
me. “Tell me they’ve got backup coming.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“On their way.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Come on, guys,
where are you?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Getting into Masontown was a nightmare in heavy
traffic, and as luck would have it, we were right in the middle of rush hour.
Every unit in town was probably stuck on that fucking two-lane bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chelsea tried to take a breath, wincing and wheezing
with the effort. Her lips were losing color and quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Her breathing has been getting worse,” he said.
“When she could still talk, she said her chest hurt, but I assumed she meant
where she was stabbed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Stabbed?” I looked up. “I thought this was a
shooting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“It was.” He nodded toward the other woman. “She had
a knife, though.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A comment about bringing a knife to a gunfight
stopped at the tip of my tongue. Gallows humor may have kept me sane in these
situations, but the same usually couldn’t be said for a husband applying
pressure to his wife’s bleeding chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“We need to get her shirt off,” I said. With her
husband’s help, I cut it away. To my surprise, removing her shirt revealed a
bulletproof vest underneath. In a less urgent situation, I might have questioned
just what I’d walked into, but the vest was stained with too much blood to
wonder why she was wearing it in the first place. We quickly unfastened the
straps on the side and got rid of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">With the vest out of the way, I looked at the wound.
It was a deep laceration with substantial bleeding, but it was more or less under
control. It was her breathing that concerned me. Removing the vest didn’t make
it any easier for her to breathe, and the color of her lips continued to fade. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Chelsea, can you hear me?” Again, I couldn’t tell
if the response was to the pain or my voice. I held her free hand. “If you can
hear me, squeeze my hand twice.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She responded with two squeezes, the second more
feeble than the first. I pressed the stethoscope against her chest and she
flinched weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Chelsea, can you take a deep breath?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She tried, but immediately grimaced. Her chest
barely rose. The more I took her vitals, the more pieces fell into place, and
it didn’t look good. Her heart was racing, her blood pressure was dropping, and
the shallow, rapid breathing was getting worse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’ll be right back.” I sprinted to the ambulance,
ignoring the furious, panicked shouts of the man beside the black-tagged woman.
Cursing the traffic that kept backup dangerously far away, I grabbed a few
items out of the ambulance and hurried back to Chelsea’s side. There, I slipped
an oxygen mask over her face and opened the valve on the tank. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her husband raised his eyebrows. “How bad is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Her lung’s collapsed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Jesus,” he whispered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It wasn’t quite so simple, but I had no time to
explain in detail that she had a tension pneumothorax and needed a
thoracentesis to release the air building up in her chest cavity. This wasn’t
the first time I’d treated something like this in the field, and I anticipated
the barrage of questions about how bad it was and if she was going to die. He
said nothing though. In fact, he was quite calm given the circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Kneeling beside her again, I gestured to two
bystanders. To them and Chelsea’s husband, I said, “Hold on to her. Keep her as
still as you can.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” her husband
said through gritted teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No, but she isn’t going to like this.” As I pulled the
large needle out of its packaging, his breath caught. “Don’t watch. Look at
something else. Trust me.” When I pressed the needle against a groove between
her ribs, he cleared his throat and looked away. At least he didn’t insist on
watching. Leon and I had enough to worry about without a passed out husband on
our hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Just before I pushed the needle into her skin, something
cold and solid dug into the base of my skull. My hands and breath froze. Moving
only my eyes, I looked at Chelsea’s husband. He stared past me, lips parted and
eyes wide. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Get away from her,” an unsteady voice commanded
from behind me. Something creaked, and even with my limited experience with
guns, I recognized the menacing sound of a hammer being drawn back. “Get the
fuck away from her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Jesse, stop.” Chelsea’s husband tone was still surprisingly
calm, but the faintest note of uncertainty sent ice through my veins. “Listen
to me, Jesse. Put the gun down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No, no, he’s hurting her.” The voice bordered on
hysterical now, and the gun’s muzzle twitched against my skin. I swallowed
hard. It wasn’t just the metal against my skin that concerned me. It was the
way that metal shook. A shaking hand on a loaded gun against my head wasn’t
what I’d call a comfortable combination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chelsea moaned and gasped for air. Every breath was
more difficult than the last, and her lips were beginning to turn blue beneath
the mask’s clear plastic. Gun to my head or not, she needed this tube in her
chest. Willing my hands to stay steady, I pressed the needle against her, but
the muzzle of the gun dug even harder into my head. The shaking was more
violent, and my mind’s eye showed me a trembling finger on a trigger. One
twitch. One twitch was all it would take. <i>Oh,
fuck.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Jesse.” Chelsea’s husband looked at him even as he
tried to hold her still. “He’s trying to help her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“He’s hurting her, Mark.” The one called Jesse’s voice
was getting shriller. “Mark, Mark, he’s hurting her. Make him stop hurting her!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No, he’s not,” the husband—Mark, apparently—said. “He’s
helping her. Put the gun down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chelsea tried to suck in a breath, wheezing hard and
writhing on the pavement. The cyanosis worsened by the second, and she couldn’t
wait any longer. Hoping to God I hadn’t just signed my own death warrant, I
leaned against the needle and forced it between her ribs. She released a feeble
cry, thrashing as much as the three men holding her down would allow, and a
split second later, air hissed out of the needle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">For a moment, I held my breath, fully expecting a
bullet through my head after my sudden movement and Chelsea’s struggles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When that bullet didn’t come, I tried to continue
concentrating on Chelsea. I gestured toward the kit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hand me that plastic tubing,” I said to Mark. My
voice shook more than I expected it to, and I shuddered. I could almost ignore this
heart-stopping terror until I heard it in my own voice<i>. I’m going to die. I’m going to die</i>. Pushing those thoughts away, I
forced myself to focus. He handed me the plastic tube I’d indicated, and as he
reached over her, his eyes darted over my shoulder to the unhinged lunatic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I worked as quickly as I could to get the tube into
her chest. The faster I moved, the sooner I could get her on the ambulance and
out of here. I could also pretend my hands weren’t shaking and maybe, just
maybe, ignore the gun that was still pressed against my head. The gun that
twitched every time Chelsea moved or made a sound.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“He’s hurting her,” Jesse said. “Make him stop
hurting her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Jesse, he’s helping her.” Mark’s voice got calmer
and gentler as if to counter Jesse’s hysteria. “If you kill him, you’re going
to kill her too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The gun twitched. Then again. After a second, it
moved away from my head and I released my breath. As I slid the tube in and the
needle out, some of Chelsea’s color returned. She murmured, then moaned, weakly
trying to get away from the pain I was undoubtedly inflicting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering, I struggled
to focus on Chelsea. With the tube releasing the air from her chest cavity, her
lung would have room to reinflate, but she needed to get to the hospital. I
needed to get her out of here. I needed to get myself the hell out of here. Away
from this armed idiot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">With Chelsea’s condition improving slightly and the
gun down, I became aware of my surroundings again. A crowd had gathered. The
black-tagged woman’s companion was beyond hysterical now. In the distance, sirens
filled the air, coming at us from all directions. Backup at last. Still, I
prayed there were no blue lights among them. Though the gun was down, I didn’t
know how crazy Jesse really was. Something told me if he saw cops and panicked,
I was done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chelsea whimpered and tried to pull away from me, but
the three men held her still. The whimper became a cry and feet shuffled behind
me. I cringed, expecting the muzzle of the gun against my head at any second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Mark moved suddenly, and the shuffling halted. Several
bystanders gasped and the air around me flexed as they all took a collective
step back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Put it down,” he snarled. My eyes flicked up and I
sucked in a breath. He had his own gun now, drawn and aimed past me. His hands
were alarmingly steady, and there was nothing but cold, murderous rage in his
eyes. Slowly, he rose, eyes and weapon still trained on my unseen assailant. “Jesse,
raise that gun again and you won’t live long enough to put it to his head. Put.
It. <i>Down</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Then, feet shuffled again. More gasping, more
movement, more <i>oh God, where is that gun?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Jesse, you son of a bitch!” Mark flew over Chelsea
and darted past me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">All around us, emergency vehicles pulled up with
sirens screaming and engines roaring. My senses focused only on the fading
footsteps. I expected gunfire, but there came none, and eventually the
footsteps faded away, leaving only the rumble of diesel engines and the murmur
of panic and confusion in the air. A violent shudder rippled down my spine,
relief knocking the breath out of me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A hand touched my arm and I jumped, nearly falling
back before I looked up to see Leon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What the hell happened over here?” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I shook my head and gestured at Chelsea. “Let’s get
her out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He cocked his head, but didn’t argue. With police
on-scene and other firefighters and medics attending the rest of the victims,
Leon and I got Chelsea onto the stretcher and wheeled her across the sidewalk
to the ambulance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Just before we reached it, a hand flew out of the
crowd and seized my arm, nearly hauling me off my feet. I regained my balance
and found myself face to face with the distraught companion of the woman I’d
black-tagged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You racist son of a bitch,” he snarled. “Why didn’t
you help her?” Behind him, the woman lay between two kneeling firefighters, one
of whom drew a sheet over her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You killed her. You fucking killed her!” He grabbed
for my neck, but I deflected his hand with my elbow. Two officers pried him off
me and I stumbled back, staring at him in stunned silence. I jumped when
another hand touched my shoulder, even though I knew before I looked that it
was Leon again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Come on,” he said. “We need to get her out of
here.” I turned and followed him and the stretcher to the ambulance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You fucking racist!” The man called after me. “I
will kill you! Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you!” I glanced over my
shoulder at him, and the icy hatred in his eyes sent a chill down my spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He continued screaming at me, warning me over and
over that he was going to hunt me down and kill me. The officers led him out of
sight and I turned my attention back to my patient, trying to focus on the
threats to her life instead of my own. Leon closed the doors behind Chelsea and
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A moment later, he climbed into the cab. The tires
beneath us squealed and we left he scene. As Masontown and its flashing lights
faded behind us, I’d never in my life been so thankful for Leon’s habit of
driving too fast.</span></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-76973705062420015852013-10-04T14:20:00.001-07:002013-10-04T14:26:23.045-07:00EXCERPT: World Enough and TimeTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/Books_by_Lauren.html#world1">World Enough and Time</a></i><br />
Previously published as<i> Until It's Over.</i><br />
Author: Lauren Gallagher<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chapter
One<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">On my way into the Pike Street
Pub, I let out a groan that drowned in the noise of sports and fans. I’d let my
friend Susan talk me into coming even though I really didn’t feel like it, but
it wasn’t until I stepped through the door that the knot of <i>Why the hell am I here?</i> made itself
known. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A pub I could handle. Crowds,
noise, people, alcohol. All of that was fine. In fact, this was my kind of
place. Baseball games on old, grainy televisions above a bar that had seen
better days. At least two dozen decent beers on tap and bartenders who would
sooner hit themselves over the head with a bottle of Cuervo than serve a drink
with a paper umbrella in it. All it needed was sawdust on the floor and it
would’ve been perfect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">In the years before Seattle’s
anti-smoking laws, the air probably would have been opaque and gray, but now it
was perfectly crisp and clear. Just clear enough, in fact, for me to see
exactly why I wished I hadn’t come at all: Susan had spotted me and immediately
sprung to life, grabbing a tall blond guy’s arm and dragging him toward me. The
way she gestured and rolled her eyes told me she was persuading him to follow
her. The way <i>he</i> gestured and rolled <i>his</i> eyes suggested he wasn’t
particularly enthused about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That
must be Troy</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">.
Troy Wilson, the guy Susan said I simply had to meet because he was perfect for
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I groaned again as they wove
between barstools, partygoers, and chest-high tables, closing in on me. My
voice disappeared into the surrounding noise, but I didn’t have the luxury of a
cloud of smoke to obscure my face, so I forced something in the vicinity of a
smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hey Dani!” Susan squealed. She
dragged Troy closer and gestured proudly. “This is Troy. Troy, Dani.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hi.” Offering a smile that was a
bit more genuine than my own, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Likewise.” I shook his hand, and
when his smile broadened, I relaxed a bit. Maybe Susan was right and this was
what I needed. He deserved a chance, and maybe I could enjoy an evening out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Troy cleared his throat and
suddenly looked a little shy. “Can I, um, can I buy you a drink?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I released a breath and with it,
more of my apprehension. Though he obviously hadn’t been thrilled about being
pulled away from his other conversation, there was no evidence of irritation in
his expression now. He seemed like a nice guy, and hopefully Susan wouldn’t
steer me wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Sure,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What’ll you have?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I glanced at the bar. “Mac and
Jack’s if they have it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Good taste in beer.” He gave a
nod of approval. “I like you already.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’ll just leave you two alone.”
Susan grinned at us. In a loud whisper, she added, “Go easy on him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My face burned. “Susan!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Troy laughed. “Get out of here,
Suze.” When she was gone, he nodded toward the bar and I followed him. After he’d
ordered, he said, “Sounds like you’re getting a taste for some of the local
beers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Blame Susan. She brought me out
a few times when we met. Made me try something other than my usual.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Which was?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Budweiser.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He wrinkled his nose. “Then thank
God she showed you light.” The bartender set our pint glasses in front of Troy,
who then passed one to me. Troy sipped his. “So, how do you know Susan?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“We work together,” I said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Something in his expression
changed. Dulled. “Oh.” He didn’t even try to feign interest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I loved my job as a dressage
trainer, but it seemed to be a coma-inducer for a lot of men these days, so I
quickly changed the subject. “What do you do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That brought him back to life. “I
manage commercial properties.” He squared his shoulders and puffed out his
chest. “Mostly here in Seattle, but I’m working on getting into the East Side.
So it’s—” He did a double take, glancing at something over my shoulder. “Oh,
damn, that was fast. Looks like the game’s back on.” His smile was just
patronizing enough to set my teeth on edge. “It was nice meeting you though,
Dani.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And with that, he shook my hand
again and then walked back to the other side of the room, where a few of the
guys were focused on a Yankees-Cubs game. I watched, slack-jawed. <i>This is the man who was supposed to be
‘perfect’ for me?</i> I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath before
lifting my glass to my lips again. <i>Oh
well. At least I got a free beer out of it.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Though it didn’t do much for my
ego, it was probably just as well. I was only a few short months out of a
relationship that should have ended years ago, so a boyfriend was out of the
question. That, and one night stands weren’t my thing. Even if they were, and
if Troy was as self-centered and inconsiderate as he’d shown himself to be,
that was probably a good indicator of how he was in bed. I didn’t care how
highly Susan thought of him, he obviously thought even higher of himself, and
I’d just spent four years of my life with a man like that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I leaned against the bar and
sipped my beer for a few minutes, then decided there was no sense wallowing in
a glass of self-pity. I could do that at home, and whether I wanted to be or
not, I was here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So, I went about joining the rest
of Susan’s group of friends. With time and a little alcohol, I slowly got into
the groove of mingling and socializing, striking up conversations with the few
people I’d met before and even some of the ones I hadn’t. My second beer eased
the tension in my gut enough that I finally relaxed into the party atmosphere
and forgot all about Troy being a jackass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Before long, several people and I
were engaged in a lively discussion about the Mariners, who were having a
decent season for once. Beer bottles rose and fell with the wild gestures of
inebriated sports fans and I narrowly missed getting an ice cold Miller Lite
down the front of my shirt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Sorry, sorry.” The guy flashed perfect
white teeth and gave me a quick, conspicuous once-over. I didn’t mind. I gave
him the same look, allowing myself a moment to indulge in a few fantasies about
what he was packing in those tight jeans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We exchanged a couple flirtatious
looks, then resumed the beer-swinging baseball discussion. Though I wasn’t
particularly loyal to the Mariners, given that this wasn’t my hometown, I knew
and loved the sport. There were worse ways to spend an evening, I decided, than
drinking beer over stats and scores. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after
all. At least I was out of the house. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Cheering on the opposite side of
the room drew everyone’s attention. Our heads turned as one to see what the
commotion was about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And that’s when I saw him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He was a few feet away, far
enough that had the anti-smoking laws not been passed, he probably would have
disappeared in the thick gray cloud. Without the exhaled tobacco, though, I had
an unobstructed view, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His attention had followed
everyone else’s to the loud celebration at the other end of the bar. When the
noise died down, he returned his focus to a conversation with the group in
which he stood. Though everyone else spoke loudly and gestured wildly with
hands and drinks, he wasn’t nearly as animated and didn’t say much. He seemed
out of place here for some reason. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at
first, but soon realized it was <i>because</i>
he was quiet. Subdued. Reserved. When the others laughed uproariously, only the
faintest hint of a grin curled his lips, his amusement subtle but unmistakable.
When he listened, lines of concentration appeared between his eyebrows as if he
hung on every word. And when he spoke, even though he said little, every head
in the group turned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He wasn’t a wallflower by any
means. Though he listened more than he spoke, he was as engaged in the
conversation as anyone else. He was interested, but seemed content to merely
observe and only occasionally offer a comment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As soon as I saw him, he
fascinated me, and I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe he just stood out because
he was understated and calm in a sea of drunk and disorderly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It was that magnetic quietude
that caught my eye, but once I’d grown accustomed to his strangely intense
presence, another fact about him made itself known: He was gorgeous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He was probably a head taller
than me and built slim and lean. Not a body builder, not skin and bones, but
fit. Fit with just the right broadness of shoulders and narrowness of hips to
make my mouth water. He held a pint glass in one hand while the other thumb
hooked in the pocket of his jeans. Casual, but somehow dignified. Even standing
perfectly still, he carried himself with a kind of masculine grace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A tiny hint of rebellion glinted
on his left earlobe, though I couldn’t tell from a distance if it was a stud or
a hoop. He was clean cut except for the faint shadow of stubble, which drew my
attention to his pronounced cheekbones. When I caught myself wondering what it
would be like to trace the angle of his jaw with my fingertip, I quickly looked
away, clearing my throat and sipping my beer. I tried to concentrate on the
discussion going on around me, which had moved on to last year’s World Series.
All I could think about, though, was that quiet presence nearby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As soon as I was fairly sure my
face wasn’t glowing brighter than the neon Budweiser sign in the window, I
chanced another look. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He raised his beer to take a
drink, pausing with his glass nearly to his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His eyes shifted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And met mine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Maybe it was just the dim, warm
light of the pub, but never in my life had I seen such vivid blue eyes. He
lowered his glass, and for a moment we held each other’s gazes. Then a hint of
a smile pulled at his lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A second later, his attention
returned to his conversation and I was left with trembling knees and a beer
that suddenly wasn’t nearly cold enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My group of strangers eventually
dispersed, but the guy who’d nearly dumped his beer on me earlier lingered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You’re Dani, aren’t you?” he
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“The Dani that works with Susan,
right?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Yeah, I’ve worked with her for a
few months. I’m—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His eyes started to glaze. I
wondered how much Susan had gabbed about our line of work if every man in the
room was instantly bored when it came into a conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So I changed the subject. “I
don’t think we’ve met.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Oh, right, sorry.” He extended
his hand. “I’m Kyle. Susan’s my sister.” I shook his hand, noting with some
amusement how that simple movement made his balance waver. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He leaned casually against the
bar, probably trying to keep himself upright. “So can I buy you a drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I tried not to groan. Just what I
needed: Knocked back by Mr. Perfect, hit on by Mr. Drunk. I gestured with my
glass, which was still half full. “I think I’m good for now. In fact I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Well, when you finish that one.”
He winked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I, um, I think this is enough
for me for tonight,” I said. “Still have to, you know, get home.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Don’t worry about that.” He
grinned. “There’s always taxis.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’d rather not leave my car in
town. Thanks, though.” I smiled, then sipped my beer to get the taste of this
conversation out of my mouth. The truth was I had every intention of taking a
taxi home. A taxi that didn’t contain Susan’s drunk, persistent brother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Well, if you change your mind—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You know, I’m probably going to
take off after this one.” I started to take a step back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“But it’s still early.” He
clapped my shoulder playfully, then held on, walking the very fine line between
persistent and creepy. “Party’s just getting started. You can’t leave yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Well, no, I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“So, how long have you been here?
In Seattle, I mean. Not the bar. I saw you walk in.” He laughed heartily, like
he was certain he was the funniest man alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I laughed, but didn’t put a lot
of effort into it, concentrating more on casually freeing my shoulder from his
hand. “I’ve been here a few months. Anyway, I need to—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Oh, so you’re really new to
town,” he slurred. “You know, I could show you around the city one of these
days.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Oh, I’m…” I cleared my throat.
“I’m learning it okay on my own. I’ll manage.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You sure? It can get pretty
confusing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I gritted my teeth, forcing
myself to keep smiling. “I’m okay. In fact—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Well, if you’re sure.” He
gestured toward the beer taps. “So can I buy you a drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I resisted the urge to roll my
eyes. <i>Dude, you are plowed, aren’t you?</i>
Taking a deep breath and surreptitiously looking for Susan or any other
convenient method of escape, I said, “I’m okay, thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Aw, come on, just one beer. Really,
I insist.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I started to speak, but movement
beside me caught my eye. I turned, expecting to step aside for a moment to let
someone get to the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I wasn’t expecting <i>him.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Nor was I expecting him to stop
and look Kyle right in the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Can I help you?” Kyle growled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You know the definition of
insanity, don’t you?” The newcomer’s lips curled into that hint of a grin and
when his eyes darted toward me, he winked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Um, no,
I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“It’s defined as doing the same
thing repeatedly and expecting different results.” He raised his beer to his
lips, casually taking a sip while his eyes once again darted to me, then back
to Kyle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Kyle sucked in a breath that was
made of pure indignation. He opened his mouth to protest, hesitated, then
cursed into his drink and stalked off, leaving me alone with… <i>him</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I laughed and shook my head,
watching Kyle disappear. “Damn, I’ve been trying to get rid of him since he
started talking to me. And you just…” I gestured toward the empty space Susan’s
brother had occupied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Guess he just…” The quiet
stranger glanced in Kyle’s direction. When he turned his head, the earring—a
diamond stud—caught my eye again. “Well, anyway, you looked like you could use
some help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Much appreciated.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He switched his drink to his left
hand and extended his right. “Connor Graham.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Dani Blake.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His palm was cool from holding
his beer, but all that registered was heat. When I made eye contact with him
again, his eyes were even bluer up close than they’d been from across the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He cocked his head. “Either I’ve
been completely oblivious, or you’re new to this group.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I started to speak, then realized
he hadn’t yet released my hand. We both looked down and at the same moment,
pulled our hands away. Avoiding each other’s eyes for a second, we sought refuge
in our drinks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Then I shifted my weight. “Yeah,
I’m… Susan and I work together, but I’m still fairly new to the area.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He rested his hip against the bar
and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “You work together?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Inwardly I cringed. Twice tonight
I’d managed to make guys’ eyes glaze over by mentioning my job. This time, I
shrugged dismissively. “Yeah, nothing too exciting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Come on, now.” He grinned and
turned my knees to water. “It’s got to be more interesting than pushing a desk
all day long.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’m sure Susan’s told you
everything about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Not really, no.” Even as he took
another drink, his eyes were fixed on me, the slight tilt of his head bidding
me to continue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I fidgeted a little, pretending
to just casually shift my weight again. “Well, like I said, it’s nothing too
exciting. We train dressage horses and jumpers. Give lessons to kids and adults.
Break young horses. Things like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Sounds pretty interesting to
me,” he said. “My sister’s got a couple of horses. Hell if I know a thing about
them, but I wouldn’t mind learning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Like old friends, we fell easily
into conversation. No matter what we talked about—my job, people we knew, the
baseball games on the screen—he hung on my every word. It was the same way he’d
interacted with the others when he didn’t know I was watching, so I had no
illusion that this was specially for me, but it was still refreshing after Troy
and Kyle. Even some commotion behind me warranted nothing more than a brief
flick of his eyes before his attention returned to me. Otherwise, he stayed
focused on and interested in our conversation. Focused on me. I was surprised
it didn’t make me uncomfortable, but then again there was no rational reason it
should have. He wasn’t scrutinizing, just interested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“So anyway,” I said after
explaining some of the finer points of my job, “that’s what I do for a living.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He smiled. “Sounds like you’re
doing what you love.” Raising his glass, he added, “More people should.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I wondered when he’d moved closer
to me. Or I’d moved closer to him. I could have sworn we were standing farther
apart but somehow, perhaps through a series of motions so minute I hadn’t
noticed, we’d narrowed that space. He was near enough to touch, and touching
him was oh so tempting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When our eyes met, the hint of a
grin and the sparkle of mischievousness in his eyes dared me to do it. Instead,
I muffled a cough behind my hand and said, “So, what do you do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Setting his beer on the bar, he
rested his elbow beside it. “At the moment, I’m a desk jockey, but that’s just
to pay bills until I graduate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What are you studying?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I’m finishing my master’s in
linguistics.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Linguistics?” I couldn’t help
but grin. “So that would make you a cun—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“A cunning linguist, yes.” He
rolled his eyes and laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Can’t say I’ve ever met a
linguist before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He grinned. “Not even a cunning
one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“<i>Especially</i> not a cunning one.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He lifted his beer again, his
eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smile that made my knees tremble.
“What a pity.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Chapter
Two<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Lost in conversation with Connor,
I didn’t realize just how late it was until I noticed that the pub was getting
progressively quieter. People migrated toward the door. The bartenders spent
more time cleaning than pouring. The baseball games on TV were long since over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor glanced at his cell phone.
“Wow, it’s almost one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Already?” I said. “Time flies, I
guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He smiled. “So it does.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I should probably go.” <i>But damn, I don’t want to.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Another
hour and they’ll throw us out anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Bastards.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor chuckled. “Probably just
as well. Or we might end up here all night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It took me a second to realize
why that would be in any way undesirable. I could think of no place I’d rather
be, but the night had to end sooner or later. We couldn’t stay here all night,
so it was, as Connor said, just as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He looked at the door, then at
me. “Do you mind if I walk you back to your car?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I took a taxi.” I gestured at my
empty glass. “I was planning to have a few more of those than I did.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The smile on his lips was caught
somewhere between devilish and shy. For a moment, he avoided my eyes. “If it’s
not too forward of me…” A pause, possibly gauging my reaction before he’d fully
asked the question. “Could I give you a lift home?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Had it been anyone else, I’d have
balked at the offer. After all, he was a complete stranger. Did I really want
to get into his car and show him where I lived? But Susan knew him, and even if
she knew such impolite cretins as Troy and Kyle, I doubted she associated with
psychos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “You don’t mind?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The shyness faded. “Not in the
least.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What if I said I lived a few
hours away? Like, say, Bellingham?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His expression was all
devilishness now, and my knees shook when he said, “Then I guess we’d be in for
a long drive together, wouldn’t we?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I suddenly wished I lived in
Bellingham.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Let me take care of my tab and
we can go,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I nodded and he disappeared into
the thinning crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Out of nowhere, Susan was
suddenly by my side giving me a good-natured glare. “Dani Blake, if I didn’t
know any better, I’d be sure you were just flirting with Connor.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Define ‘flirting.’” I batted my
eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She rolled hers. “After all the
trouble I went to setting you up with Troy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I snorted. “Please. I don’t think
he was interested, considering how quickly he made his escape as soon as you
were out of earshot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Susan blinked. “What? Oh, I’m
going to kill him, that—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No, no.” I put a hand up and
shook my head. “Trust me, it’s for the better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her eyes flicked toward the bar
and she smiled. “Well, if Connor’s a suitable consolation prize, don’t let me
get in your way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Consolation prize?” I glanced at
Connor. “You won’t hear me complaining. Besides, he’s just taking me home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Taking you home?” Her eyes
widened. “Doesn’t that—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“As in driving me back to my
apartment, Susan.” I eyed her. “So I don’t have to pay for a cab. Nothing like <i>that</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She laughed. “And I suppose you
have some oceanfront property in Arizona to sell me while you’re at it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Though I tried to laugh it off, I
could only half-heartedly deny what my intentions were. One night stands
weren’t for me, but I hoped the next half hour or so would at least warrant a
“can I see you again?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor’s voice came from behind
me: “Susan, you’d better not be filling her head with lies about me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Susan put her hands up
defensively. “No lies. None at all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Or truth, for that matter,” he
said. I turned to see him giving her a look that might have been intimidating
had it not been for the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">After some playful ribbing, we
said our goodbyes to Susan and headed out of the pub. It was a warm night,
considering it was only early spring, but the occasional gust of cold wind off
Puget Sound made me wish I’d brought a jacket. Or a shirt that served as a
somewhat better defense than this thin blouse. At least I was wearing jeans.
Susan would be miserable when she stepped outside in her super short skirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">About three blocks from the pub,
Connor indicated a black parallel-parked Jeep. He unlocked it and opened the
passenger door to let me in before going around to the driver’s side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He slid into the driver’s seat.
“So do you really live in Bellingham?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
wish</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">. “No, my
apartment is in the U-district.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Not far at all then,” he said
quietly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“You sound disappointed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He shrugged and buckled his
seatbelt. “I have to admit, I was hoping for a longer drive.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My heart skipped. That was
probably the least subtle thing he’d said all night, and I so, <i>so</i> hoped he wasn’t just saying it. I
wasn’t quite sure what I wanted from him, what I wanted out of this, but
whatever it was, I hoped he wanted it too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor shifted gears and pulled
out onto Pike Street, following it in the direction I indicated. While he
drove, he said, “You mentioned that you’re not from this area. Where are you
from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Wyoming. Moved here about seven
months ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What brought you out here?
Work?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Before I could think twice, I
said, “Boyfriend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He glanced at me, eyes wide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I laughed. “Ex-boyfriend now.”
The momentary panic faded from his expression, but unasked questions hid in the
furrows between his eyebrows, so I continued, “He wanted a change of scenery,
so he moved. About four months after we got here, he decided to change <i>all</i> the scenery.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor shot me an incredulous
look. “Are you serious?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I shrugged. “Eh, he was a
jackass. It’s better this way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Still,” he said. “I can’t
imagine packing up your life, moving halfway across the country, then having
someone turn around and pull a stunt like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Yeah, tell me about it,” I said
dryly. “But, it’s done. I’m here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">At that, Connor smiled, but said
nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“What about you?” I asked. “Are
you from this area?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He nodded. “Born and raised.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Seems like a lot of people who
are born here, stay here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“It’s a great place to live,” he
said. “Well, I might be biased. All I know is that no matter where I go, this
city will always be home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I could have sworn my apartment
was further from the Pike Street Pub, and I cursed every green light that
whisked us closer to the our destination. I wasn’t ready for this night to be
over. There had to be some unscheduled middle-of-the-night road construction
somewhere. Or a fender bender. A damned red light. A riot. Something. <i>Anything</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But, after mere minutes, Connor
pulled his Jeep into one of the vacant guest spaces at the foot of my building.
For the first time since he’d shooed Kyle away at the bar, an awkward silence
hung between us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Listen, without resorting to
some clichéd pick-up line,” he said, “I’d like to see you again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I smiled. “Well then, without
resorting to some clichéd response, why don’t I just give you my number?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I like the sound of that.” He
pulled out his phone. I recited my number and he entered it, showing me the
screen to make sure it was correct. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">With my number securely in his
phone, we could safely call it a night. Go our separate ways knowing we’d cross
paths again and soon. Still, neither of us moved, nor did we speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He scratched the back of his
neck, resting his other arm on the steering wheel. “I know I should let you go,
but to be honest…” He paused, a shy smile pulling at his lips. “I don’t want
to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I glanced around the parking lot.
“Well, it’s not like they’re going to kick us out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He laughed. “True.” He set the
parking brake and sent my pulse into overdrive. My heart pounded over the purr
of the engine, but the tiny world inside the Jeep was otherwise silent. Though
conversation had come easily all night, I couldn’t think of what to say now.
Everything that came to mind would either sound stupidly awkward or be rife
with double entendre. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor took a breath and started
to speak, then hesitated. He rested his elbow on the steering wheel and rubbed
the side of his jaw with the backs his fingers, the muffled scratch of skin on
stubble making my fingertips tingle. I wanted to touch him. Good God, I wanted
to touch him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We
just met. I barely know anything about him, How can I want him this badly? This
can’t</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My mouth went dry when the tip of
his tongue traced a quick arc across the inside of his lower lip. Then his body
shifted and the seatbelt snapped back as he freed his arm from the shoulder
strap. When he turned to me, I wanted to let his beautiful eyes mesmerize me,
but all I could do was stare at his lips when he spoke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Leaning across the console, he
reached for my face and said, “I’m sorry for the way you ended up moving to
Seattle”—his fingertips met my skin and he drew me closer to him—“but I have to
say, I’m really glad you’re here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His hand moved into my hair and
he kissed me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Just like everything about him
tonight, his kiss was the very epitome of quiet intensity. Neither gentle nor
rough, aggressive nor passive, but somewhere in between, with all the
electricity of a first kiss and such familiarity it was as if he’d known all
along just how I’d like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My fingers sought his face and
finally satisfied the craving to feel him, to memorize the contours of his jaw
and trace his five o’clock shadow. His tongue parted my lips and when his jaw
moved and his cheek hollowed beneath my palm, I had the space of a single
heartbeat to shiver, knowing he was deepening this already spine-melting kiss. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The tip of his tongue slid
beneath mine and neither invited nor demanded, simply assumed I’d allow him to
draw it into his mouth. Even the way his mouth moved was subtle, like he wanted
to make sure I felt every place our lips met and tasted every touch of his
tongue against mine. I was hyperaware of everything he did, of every way we
made and broke contact. His breathing slowed and I couldn’t help but mirror it,
inhaling deeply when he did, releasing when his warm breath brushed across my
skin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My finger grazed the surface of
his earring before combing through his thick hair. When my fingertips ran down
the back of his neck, a shudder pushed him closer to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He looked at me and sucked his
lower lip into his mouth as if to get one last taste of our first kiss. “I’ve
been wanting to do that all night,” he whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Do
it again and I swear to God, I’ll be your slave for the rest of the night.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> I wasn’t quite brazen enough to
say it, though. Besides, speaking was out of the question at this point. My
mouth knew how to do one thing and one thing only. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My fingers tightened in his hair
and he offered no resistance when I pulled him into another kiss. When we
separated this time, we stayed close, just looking at each other. In the back
of my mind, I couldn’t quite grasp the fact that we’d been strangers just hours
ago. Nameless faces in a crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But now we knew each other’s
names, and I desperately wanted to hear him say mine over and over again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">With the taste of his kiss on my
tongue, speech was still nearly impossible, but the only alternative was going
out of my mind, so I swallowed hard. “Do you—”This wasn’t like me at all. One night
stands weren’t my thing, but they sure were tonight. “Do you want to…” My eyes
darted toward my apartment, then back to him, and I lifted my eyebrows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 40.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Connor unbuckled his seatbelt.</span></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-64907464820402038592013-08-31T20:08:00.001-07:002013-08-31T20:08:20.786-07:00EXCERPT: The Best ManTitle: <i><a href="http://loriawitt.com/wildes.html#best1">The Best Man</a></i><br />
Author: L. A. Witt<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpFirst" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Walking
through the front door of Wilde’s was like stepping into another world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Seattle
was blessed with numerous gay and gay-friendly clubs, and Wilde’s was one of
the somewhat higher brow places: Live music, top shelf liquor, a strict dress
code, low lighting everywhere except the dance floor. It was relaxed, but
swanky, with leather booths and bow-tied bartenders. The music was just loud
enough to warrant getting extra close to someone to talk, but not enough to
leave a person’s ears ringing after they left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Gulping
back my nerves, I paid the cover and checked my coat. The atmosphere here was
just subdued enough to keep me from shying away. This whole thing was
intimidating enough without blasting music and wild lighting to assault the
senses. Walking through the crowd, I couldn’t recall ever feeling quite so out
of place. So <i>lost.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A few
times, I considered backing out and heading home, but since staying here meant
not spending the evening at home pining over Craig, I convinced myself to face
an intimidating night out on the prowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">On the prowl. Christ, I don’t even know
what I’m looking for</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A knot
twisted in my gut as I headed for the bar for a little courage on the rocks. It
was entirely too soon to even think about a relationship, so if I met anyone
tonight, it was either casual sex or friendship. Glancing around at the guys
getting close on the dance floor and even closer in booths, friendship was
pretty much off the menu in a place like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I had
never been particularly promiscuous. I wasn’t against casual sex on principle,
it had just never been my thing. Craig had often ribbed me about being a serial
monogamist, and maybe he was right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But
tonight, I told myself as I took one of the available bar stools, I would just
see what happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A
bartender materialized in front of me. “What can I get you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I gave
the top shelf selections a glance to see if anything sounded good, then went
for my usual. “Jack and Coke.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded and went about mixing it as I pulled my wallet out. I took my drink and
he took the cash, and then I turned my bar stool enough to give me a wide view
of the club and its patrons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
place was crawling with attractive men, some of whom caught my eye and
exchanged smiles—even suggestive grins—with me. But I didn’t know where to
start. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Hi, I’m Jon, care for a fuck?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My name’s Jon. I’m emotionally fucked in
the head right now but wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shuddered. This was just not me. What the hell was I doing? What was I
thinking? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe this was a bad idea. Oh well. At
least I’m out of the house for once.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sighing,
I turned back around to face the bar, and my breath caught in my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Leaning
casually against the counter below the top shelf bottles was a different
bartender. Even the club’s dim light didn’t detract from his striking, pale
green eyes, and I couldn’t look away from him if I wanted to. He didn’t seem to
mind the fact that I was staring, though. After all, he was looking right at
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When I
could finally look somewhere other than his eyes, I wasn’t disappointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The tux
shirt perfectly emphasized his broad chest and shoulders, while the black
cummerbund subtly drew my attention to his narrow hips. It seemed that everyone
else on staff in this club was clean-shaven, but stubble heavily shadowed his
angular jaw. Still, he didn’t seem out of place. He had a kind of classy,
dignified air about him that let him get away with not shaving, even with a tux
shirt and bowtie. As he wiped down a rocks glass with a white towel, I noticed
then that his sleeves were unbuttoned and pushed partway up his toned forearms.
He must have had some seniority if he could show up unshaven and with his
sleeves rolled up so casually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Refill?”
He nodded toward my empty glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Uh,
yeah, how about—” I looked down at my glass, trying to remember what the hell
I’d been drinking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jack
and Coke?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“How
did you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
smiled as he set the rocks glass down and dropped some ice into it. “I saw Zach
pouring the first one. Figured you were a creature of habit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Perceptive.”
I folded my arms on the bar and leaned on them. “Anything else you figured out
about me while I wasn’t looking?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well,”
he said, pouring what looked like more than a single shot of Jack Daniels into
the glass, “I’m guessing you’re either new in town or newly single.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
eyebrows jumped. The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement and he
finished making my drink. When he set it on the bar, I started to pull a five
out of my wallet, but he held up his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“On the
house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Is the
psychic reading free, too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
laughed. “The drink’s on me. As for the psychic reading, the only charge for
that is that you might have to put up with my lack of conversation skills for a
few more minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
haven’t noticed anything lacking so far.” I lifted my glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Likewise,”
he said with a wink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
cheeks burned and a second later, so did my throat. I was right, he definitely
put more than a single shot of Jack into the drink. Just the way I liked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So,
what makes you think I’m either new in town or newly single?” I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
rested his hands on the bar, his shoulders lifting slightly as he shifted his
weight. Nodding toward the door, he said, “The ‘fish out of water’ look on your
face when you came in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
shrugged. “Could just be that I’ve never been to this particular club.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
shook his head. “I see a lot of new people come through that door who have
obviously been around clubs, just not this one.” His smile turned into a cocky
grin that suddenly made my drink taste like water. “But then there’s the people
who come in looking like they’ve just arrived from another planet. And over the
years, I’ve found that most of those have either just moved here or are trying
to move on after a relationship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
raised my glass. “Very observant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So, if
it’s not too forward of me…” His eyes narrowed a bit as if he was trying to
read between the lines of what I thought was a neutral expression. “Should I be
welcoming you to the Emerald City, or buying you another drink to commiserate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
drained the last of my drink and rolled it around in my mouth as I set the
glass in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sorry
to hear it.” The amusement faded from his face as he pulled another glass out
from under the bar and filled it with ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Just
make it a Coke this time.” My head was already light, but I couldn’t tell if it
was Jack or… whatever his name was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
nodded and topped the glass off with Coke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So if
you’re commiserating,” I said. “I’m guessing you’re recently out of one too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ooh,
yeah.” He grimaced. “Three years, and he picks up and walks away like nothing
ever happened.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ouch.”
I sipped my drink. “I’ve actually been single for a while, just didn’t feel
like meeting anyone right away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Understandable,”
he said. “It’s only been a couple of weeks for me. S.O.B. hasn’t even gotten
all of his shit out of my apartment yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You
haven’t done the ‘come and get it or I throw it out the window’ ultimatum yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
laughed, but some of the humor disappeared from his expression. “I have. I
think he just wants to make it as miserable as possible. Anything to draw it
out, even if he initiated it.” He dropped his gaze for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll
bet I can beat that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Try
me,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My ex
came by tonight to tell me he’s getting married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes widened. “How long did ago did you say you split up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Six
months.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
whistled. “He doesn’t wait around, does he? Er, sorry, no offense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“None
taken.” I put my finger on the end of my straw. “But it gets better.” Keeping
my finger on the straw, I lifted it out of my glass and put the other end on my
tongue. As I let my finger go so the Coke would come out of the straw, I
noticed his eyes were following. When I ran my tongue around the end of the
straw, his lips parted and he looked away, clearing his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
cheeks colored. “So, um, what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“He
wants me to be his best man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
bartender blinked. “You’re <i>kidding.</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maybe
we should introduce our exes.” I paused. “Well, if they were both still single,
anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
opened his mouth to speak, then glanced down the bar. “Shit, I need to take
care of some other customers.” He looked at me again. “You going to be here a
while?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I am now</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. I
smiled. “Not going anywhere.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">With a
wink that made my head spin, he stepped away to see to his other customers. It
was only when he was gone that I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was
holding. Ever since I’d turned around, since I’d first laid eyes on him, I
hadn’t drawn a proper breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
thought of the way he’d watched me with the straw and shivered. The way he’d
looked at me when I first turned around. I wasn’t imagining it, was I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As he
tended to customers a few feet away, smiling and laughing politely with them,
he cast me a quick look and his smile faded. It didn’t fade in the sense that
he was suddenly embarrassed or annoyed by my presence or the fact that I was
looking at him. Quite the contrary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His
eyes said nothing if not, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My
heart pounded. I knew nothing about him beyond his job and the fact that he was
recently single. I didn’t even know his name, but I suddenly wanted to hear him
growling mine in my ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
continued that way for a while, shooting the breeze while he was between
customers. Every time he was sure that every glass and bottle on the bar had
been filled, he came right back to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">At one
point, while he filled drinks, several more bartenders appeared and a few
others left. Shift change, I guessed. When he caught sight of one of the
newcomers, his expression changed. This time, it <i>was</i> annoyance. As the other bartender approached him, they
exchanged a few brief and, by the looks of it, terse words. Then they
disappeared into the back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was
almost fifteen minutes before he came back into view, his jaw set and his
eyebrows knitted together over narrowed eyes. He kept his eyes down as he
approached me. Before I’d even said a word, he went about filling another glass
with Coke. Glancing back the way he came, he pulled a piece of paper out of his
pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My
boss is here, and he’s on the warpath today, so I can’t chat.” He put the drink
I hadn’t ordered on a napkin, slid it toward me, and tucked the piece of paper
under it. Then he met my eyes. “I’m off in an hour.” Tapping the bar beside my
drink, he said, “If you want to talk someplace quieter, I can meet you there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">With
that, he turned to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wait,”
I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
paused and came back, glancing over his shoulder and swallowing nervously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Do I
have to wait until then to find out your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He smiled.
“Liam Sable. Yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jon
Beatty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Manuscript1CxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll
see you in an hour.”</span></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3393835045444465883.post-60200298420597913002013-08-31T11:15:00.000-07:002013-08-31T11:15:09.105-07:00EXCERPT: The Only One Who Knows<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Title<i>: <a href="http://loriawitt.com/Books_by_L.html#seal">The Only One Who Knows</a></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Authors: Cat Grant, L. A. Witt</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
Chapter 1</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<i>Coronado, California<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>Three Years Ago<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Goddammit, Lieutenant
Walker! Get the fuck up off the motherfucking ground right fucking <i>now</i>!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh grimaced at the
sound of Chief Flint’s voice and forced himself to his feet. His legs were
done. Completely fucking done. How long had they been running in full battle
rattle on soft, slippery sand? The December sun wasn’t even that hot—not that
it mattered; lugging around a forty-pound rucksack still had him drenched in
sweat. He’d lost track of time ever since his vision had started to sparkle and
he’d had to concentrate on forcing his legs to work instead of crumpling
underneath him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The other guys panted
and grunted and swore, but they kept going. Josh fell behind. Caught up. Fell
behind again. And this time, he couldn’t catch up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And of course, this
time, Chief Flint was watching.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint called the entire
group to a halt and gave them permission to drop their rucksacks. Before Josh’s
had even hit the ground, the chief got right up in his face. “You think I’m
going to let you lead a fucking team of goddamned SEALs into hostile fucking
territory when you can’t even stay up on your goddamned feet, Lieutenant?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, Chief.” Josh
licked his parched lips. “I’m sorry, Chief, I—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I don’t want your
fucking apologies!” Flint screamed at him. “I want you running at the front of
the fucking pack, not stumbling around like you don’t know what your
motherfucking legs are for! Am I fucking clear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh gritted his teeth.
“Yes, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint narrowed his
eyes. Quieter now—but no less menacing—the chief snarled, “This is the third
time I’ve seen you drop, Walker.” Stepping closer, he added, “I’m starting to
wonder if you’re cut out to be a SEAL at all.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh’s heart skipped.
“I am, Chief. I am cut out to be a SEAL.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“And why the fuck
should I believe that?” Flint gestured at the rest of the men. “Why in the
fucking hell should I believe for a second that you are SEAL material when all
you’re showing me is someone who couldn’t have made it through enlisted boot
camp if he tried?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A couple of the
enlisted guys snickered. Josh set his jaw. Officer training was intense, but
the enlisted guys never let the commissioned ones forget they’d been through
worse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You know, Walker.”
Smirking, Flint folded his arms across his camo blouse. “I don’t think you’d
last a day in Marine basic.” He leaned in a little closer, their faces almost
touching. “I think you, Lieutenant Walker, would be one of those pussies who
ran out of Basic with his fucking tail between his pussy little legs. Am I
right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Am I right, Lieutenant
Walker?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, Chief!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Rage turned Chief
Flint’s face red. “Then when are you going to fucking prove it, you piece of
shit?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Whenever you want me
to, Chief.” Josh tried not to cringe. Something told him he’d be eating those
words before long.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Chief Flint stepped
back. He held Josh’s gaze for a long, unsettling moment. Then, without breaking
eye contact, he barked, “The rest of you are dismissed. Walker, you stay here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh swallowed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The other men
scattered, some offering murmurs of “Good luck, brother” or “Nice knowing you,
LT,” as they went by.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Once they were alone,
Flint stepped up right in front of Josh again. His eyes tried to drill holes
into Josh’s skull. This was one of the few times Josh didn’t pay attention—much
attention—to the fact that Chief Flint and his physique were prime examples of
why Josh had had more than a few fantasies about SEALs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His tone was…not
gentler, but not quite so hostile. “What happened out there, Walker?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh gulped. “I didn’t
stay properly hydrated, Chief. I thought I could handle it, but the sun and the
exhaustion caught up with me.” He took a deep breath. “It was my mistake,
Chief. It won’t happen again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Isn’t that what you
told me two days ago?” Chief Flint cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.
“That you wouldn’t fucking puss out on me again? On your motherfucking team
again?” He didn’t give Josh a chance to respond before he said, “I’m not
getting through to you, am I, Lieutenant?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I…don’t understand,
Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I’m aware of that.”
Flint beckoned sharply and started walking. “This way. Now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh followed Flint
toward the mess hall and then around behind it. Josh’s stomach twisted. He’d
heard the stories from the fleet about fan room beatings. Some idiot couldn’t
get his shit together, his fellow sailors took him into one of the fan rooms on
the ship and beat the fuck out of him. Straightened most of them out in a big
hurry.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Was this the SEAL
training equivalent? Shit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Behind the mess hall,
Chief Flint grabbed a metal folding chair that had been propped up against the
door. He carried it over to where Josh was standing and set the chair down with
an emphatic <i>bang</i>. With his boot, he
nudged it until its legs were just a few inches away from where the shade from
the mess hall ended and the bright sunlight scorched the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Then he sat. In the
shade, of course. He folded his arms across his chest and glared up at Josh.
Gesturing at the ground in front of him, he said, “Push-ups.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Fuck. What the hell was
this? Boot camp?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Now, Lieutenant.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh took a deep
breath, then got down on the ground. The sand was hot enough to sting his hands
but wouldn’t cause any actual damage. He looked up at Flint. “How many, Chief?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“You’ll fucking keep
going until I tell you to stop.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh eyed him. “Isn’t
this hazing?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Nope.” One boot heel
landed between Josh’s shoulders. Then the other. “But I’m pretty sure this is.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Chief, with all due—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Push-ups, Lieutenant. <i>Now.</i>”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh obeyed. He was
already exhausted, overheated, in dire need of rest, and Chief Flint’s boot
heels bit into his back, and the added weight made every motion agony. Josh’s
arms shook. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to breathe in and out
through his teeth. No point in passing out, but he wasn’t so sure he had a
choice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Chief…” Josh’s head
fell forward. Almost hit the ground. “I can’t, I’m—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No fucking excuses,”
Chief Flint snarled. “Push-ups, Lieutenant. Until I’m good and fucking ready to
tell you to stop.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Sweat trickled through
Josh’s short hair and down his face. A drop burned its way into his eye, and he
focused on that pain instead of the relentless burning in the rest of his body.
His chest was nearly on the ground, the warmth from the sand radiating onto his
face and torso. He ordered his body, then begged it, to cooperate, and
struggled to push himself up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He couldn’t. He simply
had nothing left.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His elbows buckled. He
collapsed to the ground, barely keeping his face from hitting the hot dirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He’d barely collapsed
before the boots on his back disappeared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint dropped to his
knees beside him and grabbed the back of Josh’s blouse. “Is this the kind of
motherfucking SEAL you’re going to be, Lieutenant? You going to drop out like a
motherfucking pussy right when things get tough?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, Chief.” Josh
loathed the weakness in his voice as he croaked out the words. “No, Chief. I’m
not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Then why the fuck are
you caving in after a few fucking push-ups?” He released Josh’s blouse, almost
shoving him away. “Answer me, Lieutenant!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh let his forehead
hit the scorching sand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Push yourself the fuck
up, Lieutenant,” Flint shouted at him. “And don’t fucking tell me about how
fucking tired you are, goddammit. When I send you out into motherfucking
Kandahar or fuck knows fucking where, and one of your fucking teammates takes a
goddamned bullet, are you going to leave him there because you’re too fucking
tired to haul his ass out?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“N-no, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Because it’s times
like this, Lieutenant, when your body can’t take another goddamned second, that
your team needs you to push through. Do you want to come home from fucking
Afghanistan or Iraq and tell a man’s widow you let her husband fucking die
because you were motherfucking hot and tired?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh tried to moisten
his lips. “No, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Then when you muster
tomorrow, I fucking expect you to act like it. Am I clear?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Am I motherfucking <i>clear</i>, you son of a bitch?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“<i>Yes</i>, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Chief Flint stood. His
boots were just a few inches from Josh’s face. One well-placed kick away from
giving him a face full of sand. But he didn’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Get up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Standing had never been
as difficult as it was just then. Josh’s muscles were done. He was shaking.
Light-headed. He got to his knees, and as he tried to make it all the way to
his feet, his vision darkened.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A strong hand grabbed
his upper arm. “Take it easy, Lieutenant.” Now Flint’s voice was gentle. “Just
go slow.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The hand around his arm
became an arm around his shoulders, and Flint eased him to his feet. The chief
led him in through the back door of the mess hall and guided him to one of the
tables.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh sank onto one of
the benches, closing his eyes and exhaling from the sheer relief of being off
his feet and no longer forced to perform.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint touched his
shoulder. “You all right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh nodded. He wasn’t
in any danger. He’d had heatstroke enough times to know when he was in trouble,
but right then, he just felt like shit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Don’t move,” Flint
said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh folded his arms on
the table and rested his head on them. His sleeves were soaked with sweat. His
skin felt sunburned, but he doubted it was. He’d surfed his way to a solid
bronze tan before he came to BUD/S. It would take more than a few miles and
some push-ups in the sun to burn him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Chief Flint returned a
minute later and handed Josh three bottles of water. “Here. Go easy on it.
Don’t drink it all at once.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh nodded. “Thank
you, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint sat across from
him, dog tags rattling quietly as they bumped the table’s metal edge. He folded
his hands on the table and watched Josh struggle with the cap on the first
bottle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Need a hand?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
There was already
plenty of heat in Josh’s cheeks, but a little more showed up anyway. “I’ve got
it, Chief. Thanks.” And finally, the seal broke, and the cap came off. Water
had never tasted so fucking good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Chief Flint didn’t
speak. Neither did Josh. He probably wasn’t allowed to, and he sure as fuck
wasn’t inclined to. He did allow himself a look at Flint. When the man wasn’t
screaming at him or anyone else, when he was in a calmer state, he was damned
easy on the eyes. Probably fair-skinned most of the time, but he spent most of
his waking hours under the California sun, and it showed in his deep tan and
bleached hair. Fucking ripped. He’d stripped off his camouflage blouse and just
wore a brown T-shirt, which stretched across chiseled abs and an amazing set of
shoulders. Shame he was such an asshole, though the cold water in Josh’s hand
made him wonder about that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
About the time Josh was
three quarters through the second bottle of water, Flint broke the silence.
“Feel better?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Yes.” Josh started to
take another drink but paused to add, “Yes, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint sat up a little,
folding his arms and leaning over them. His green eyes weren’t so full of rage
now. Intense, still, but that must have been their natural state. “Do you think
I’m tougher on you than I am the other trainees?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i>Well, now that you mention it…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh pressed one of the
cold bottles against the side of his face. “I…um…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“I am,” Flint said.
“I’m going to tell you that right now. I am harder on you than any other man in
your class.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Um. Okay…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Do you know why?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh shook his head.
“No, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Because I see
something in you that I don’t see in any of the other men,” Flint said. “What I
see in you is the raw beginnings of the type of SEAL who puts himself on top of
a grenade to save his men. Or carries out a SEAL with a broken leg even though
you’ve already taken a bullet to the chest. Exactly what every SEAL should be,
and what all the most exceptional ones <i>are</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh swallowed.
“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint nodded. “You’re
team leader material, Lieutenant. Not just a SEAL. A team leader.” He leaned
closer, screwing with Josh’s blood pressure. “Am I wrong about you, Walker?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“No, Chief. You’re
not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Eyes locked on Josh’s,
Flint reached across the table and put his hand on Josh’s forearm. The gesture
forced all the air from Josh’s lungs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Speaking so softly Josh
could barely hear him, Flint said, “Prove me right, Lieutenant. Because we both
know I am.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh found just enough
breath to reply with, “I will, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Good.” Flint squeezed
his arm, then pulled his hand back and got up. He looked down at Josh. “Get
yourself cleaned up, and get some rest.” The cold, hardened chief was back.
“And tomorrow, you’d damn well better have your shit together, or you can kiss
your shot at a trident good-bye.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Josh managed a
whispered, “I will, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint started to walk
away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The man turned around,
eyebrows up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
“Thank you, Chief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Flint nodded sharply,
then turned and continued out of the mess hall.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Every muscle in Josh’s
body ached from the run and from the push-ups he’d forced himself to do. His
body was still hot from the sun and exertion. But on the back of his arm was a
distinctly cool spot, the place where Flint’s hand had been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Of course it was just a
platonic gesture. A touch meant to reassure, or…or something. Josh couldn’t
quite figure out what. Definitely wasn’t meant to have any kind of sexual
effect on him, but that didn’t stop him from getting goose bumps under his
uniform. His body was too damned exhausted for any response beyond that,
though. And pity it was just a fantasy. It was a good one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He finished the water
Chief Flint had given him, then forced his aching legs to work. He headed back
to the barracks to get cleaned up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And tomorrow?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Tomorrow, there was no
way in hell he was disappointing Chief Flint. <o:p></o:p></div>
Lori W.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00977774459484130567noreply@blogger.com0