TAME
…“There’s nothing in the shed. I don’t keep my dogs in there.” The man kept babbling. “You can’t go in there. That’s private.” They inched toward it, the big silver bolt on it glinting under the flashlights’ beams. Cavan saw a dark stain on the door. He was sure it was blood. “Unlock this please,” Ben insisted. “No. There’s no dogs in there. Come back with a search warrant.” They reached the shack, Cavan touching the lock. The padlock had not been pushed all the way down. Inside the house, the dogs started barking like crazy, as if sensing something was very wrong. Cavan pulled out his iPhone with his free hand and surreptitiously began recording. “The lock,” Ben said again. Unbelievably, Luke Masterson took off running. Cavan heard Ben shouting something to him, but he didn’t respond. He wondered what horrors awaited him as he lifted the lock off the hinge, slid back the bolt and prepared to enter the shack. He heard Ben running and realized he’d gone after their suspect. Cavan braced himself as he got the door open and, flashlight in one hand, camera phone activated, began searching the small room. There in the corner sat a huddled creature chained to the wall, shackles on…his feet. It wasn’t a dog. It was a beaten, shivering, shaking, bloodied man. Cavan would never forget how the man tried to make himself smaller. Defenseless. Petrified. Suddenly, his head came up. His swollen eyes looked right at Cavan. Holy shit. “Don’t worry,” the man said. “I’m tame…”
ALSO BY A. J. LLEWELLYN The Book And The Rose Cops And Rubbers Deeper Blue Kaleidoscope The Love God Of Indian Frybread Naked In Hong Kong Wait For Night Xu
WITH D. J. MANLY Fawnskin Fawnskin, Book II: Frenzied The House Of Driscoll, Book I The House Of Driscoll, Book II: Precious Blood Island Heat
TAME BY A. J. LLEWELLYN
AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com
TAME AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2011 by A. J. Llewellyn ISBN 978-1-61124-192-1 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To all the writers over the years who inspired my fears and fantasies of things that howl in the night…
TAME
CHAPTER 1 Officer Cavan Carmichael had had a weird day. Having just transferred from Oregon to California to help take care of his ailing mother, his first full day working for the West Los Angeles Community Police division had been a mixture of blessings. His division, which covered the tony areas of Bel Air, Benedict Canyon, Beverlywood, Pacific Palisades, Rancho Park and Rustic Canyon among others, had achieved a record of only three crimes in six days. One was a burglary in Pacific Palisades, the other two were traffic accidents on the Pacific Coast Highway. Though the division’s superior officers were thrilled, they were reluctant to promote this news for fear of street-cruising gangs making their way out west where people had money and the criminal competition was nonexistent. East LA’s crime statistics 1
TAME
were staggering. Anybody could crime-map Los Angeles online and see the latest reports, but why encourage intruders? No. The West Los Angeles Community Police division chiefs liked things the way they were. Nice and quiet. It was a little after eight on a surprisingly warm October night. Cavan had been warned LA could be warm right up until Thanksgiving. He gazed out of the window at the passing parade of celebrity houses on Sunset Boulevard. Halloween was a few days away and he was stunned at the amount of money some of these rich homeowners had spent on their lawn decor. Each house seemingly tried to outdo the other with flying witches, hanging skeletons that had glowing, beating hearts… He’d never known a balmy Halloween week, but then he’d spent the last few years in Klamath Falls, the dying heart of Oregon’s timber industry and he knew the weather everywhere was changing. Maybe this was typical California weather now. It was usually cool and wet in Klamath Falls. Crimes were infrequent and of the “heated argument over borrowed sanding tools” variety. Cavan and his partner, Ben Ortega, had finished their twelvehour shifts and were on their way back to the precinct on Butler Avenue. All afternoon, they’d fantasized about the meal they’d grab together. All-night diners still existed in Los Angeles and Ben promised Cavan he’d take him to the best. After completing two weeks of Los Angeles code, weapons and violations training, Cavan had been paired up with Ben and they’d hit it off straight away. They both had moms who’d raised them alone. Cavan was thirty, Ben twenty-eight. They both liked burgers, beers…but deviated over “broads,” as Ben called them. Not that Cavan was likely to tell his new partner that he was gay, but newly separated Ben seemed to want a buddy to hang out with 2
TAME
as he hit the ground running from one bar to the next. He was a good-looking guy of mixed heritage. His dark looks and even temperament made him a pleasure to be around. Cavan had inherited his mom’s brown eyes, athletic build, and, unfortunately, premature grayness. “We could chase chicks. Hey, it would be great if we met twins,” Ben said. Ugh. That sounds…disgusting. “Not tonight. I’m pretty wiped out. A burger would be great, though.” “That’s cool, Cavan.” Ben had finally pronounced it right. After wanting to call him Cave-un, he’d finally gotten that it was pronounced like Kevin. Cavan was the Irish version of the name. They were on their way to eat when they received a last-second report of animal abuse. “Damn.” Ben slapped the dash. “And I was so looking forward to getting that burger. I could almost taste the fries.” Cavan laughed. Ben was driving, which was a good thing. It had given Cavan a chance to absorb his surroundings. Ben pulled over, keying in the details on the computer monitor wedged between them on the console. The dispatcher’s voice sounded distorted and Ben had to ask her to repeat herself. Cavan, meanwhile, glanced outside at a lawn display featuring pumpkins and goblins, a gigantic vampire whose wings electronically flapped every few seconds and a sign that popped off a fake grave saying, Boo! “Okay, got it.” Ben told dispatch they were on their way and turned the car around. Cavan squinted at the screen. “Pacific Palisades. Huh. Is it the same address where the breakin happened on Saturday?” Ben flicked him a glance. “Yeah. Weird, huh?” 3
TAME
Cavan didn’t think so. “It’s an animal abuse case? Do we get a lot of those?” “No, but this guy’s called three times and said he witnessed his neighbor abusing his dog about an hour ago and the dog yelped and cried. He thinks this time he’s killed it.” Jesus. They were both silent as they used the lights to cut across a very slow set of lights on the corner of Sunset and Mandeville Canyon. Cavan had already learned sirens were not used in West LA except for extreme emergencies. “I don’t care how bad your day gets,” Ben said, “your animals should be a comfort, not a fucking tool for revenge.” “Right with you on that one.” Cavan loved animals. As they turned left on Marinette Road, he was astonished when they veered toward the mountains off Sunset Boulevard and plunged into a decadent, lush, tree-lined street. He saw a sign indicating they were near the entrance of Will Rogers State Park. That explained the exotic arbors lining the entire road. As the state-issue Ford Crown Victoria police car drove farther up the hill, Cavan marveled at the scenery. He felt as if he’d stepped into an incongruous wilderness bang-slap in the middle of the city. He had to peer through the clusters of trees to even see a single house. “Wow, this is something else. I suppose this is how the other half lives.” The neighborhood dripped the kind of silence and serenity only money could buy in a city like Los Angeles. Cavan checked the computer monitor’s GPS tracking system. They were close. It was hard to find a street number on any of the houses hidden from view, but the vehicle’s side mirror searchlights finally picked out the digits painted on the curb. “Do you want to check in with the neighbor first?” he asked. 4
TAME
“We could. I’d like him to show us where he saw the abuse take place, tell us what he knows. Since he’s called so many times and if it’s as bad as he says it is, maybe we shouldn’t wait.” Cavan waited for Ben to decide. “I’ll call the neighbor.” Ben pulled out his cell, made the call, but got no response. When they waded through a couple of feet of eucalyptus trees and approached the house of alleged abuse, they could see lights on inside and hear a dog barking. Motion sensor lights flicked on, flooding the area around them with light so bright it seemed like daytime. “That kills that idea of going next door,” Ben said. “Our potential suspect knows we’re here already.” The house had a rustic ranch-style look to it, but with expensive-looking light fixtures and a BMW in the driveway. Ben knocked on the door, his knuckles still on the wood panel when it opened. A middle-aged man, looking as if he’d been woken from a nap, peered out at them from a two-inch wedge. Cavan saw the glow of a TV illuminating the man’s halo of disheveled hair. “Sir, may we come in? I’m Officer Ortega; this is Officer Carmichael. We’ve had a report of animal abuse.” The man looked stunned. “Animal abuse? Who from?” “I’m not at liberty to say, sir. May we come in?” “Probably that asshole next door. He really needs to get a life.” The man jerked his thumb to the reporting neighbor’s house. “Sir, may we come in, please?” Ben asked a third time. The man held the door open about an inch. Cavan heard a dog growling. “Buster, quit it,” the man yelled. The dog started barking. “You can tell he’s real obedient.” The man gave an apologetic 5
TAME
half smile as he opened the door wider. “But as you can see, he’s healthy as an ox.” Buster was an overweight basset hound who rushed Cavan and Ben with licks and frantic pawing. “What is your name, sir?” Ben pulled out his report book. His tone was frosty. He was bad cop, Cavan was good cop. He bent to pat the dog’s head. “Luke Masterson. Are you writing that down? Why?” “I have to file a report. How many animals do you have here, sir?” Cavan straightened and took in the man’s T-shirt. The breast pocket read, Parr Lumber: Go where the Builders Go! Luke Masterson showed them around. He wore jeans that were either really old or expensive new ones made to look that way. His flyaway gray hair was thinning on top and scraped together in back into a scraggly ponytail. He shoved his feet into loafers and he introduced them to another, smaller dog sitting on the sofa and happily thumping his tail. He seemed fine, too. The house was overfilled with movie memorabilia, DVDs, videos. The rooms were simply stuffed. Cavan noticed every type of horror movie stacked floor to ceiling on one wall. He shuddered when he saw the title I Spit on Your Grave. Cavan had never been able to watch horror movies after his older brother made him sit through The Exorcist when he was nine. He’d never gotten over the experience. He and Ben went through every room, one of which was entirely devoted to werewolf movies and memorabilia. “You ever been to Comic-Con?” Luke Masterson asked. “I met the makeup artist Rick Baker. He did all the special effects makeup on An American Werewolf in London. He transformed movie 6
TAME
makeup with this film. He said the whole process took sixteen hours a day and that the actor David Naughton had to have all his meals blended so he could drink them through straws. He could hardly move his mouth with his wolf fangs.” Masterson’s nose seemed to twitch in excitement. “Rick admitted that the scenes where David transformed into the werewolf were sometimes painful. He said he tried his best to make the werewolf’s limbs comfortable…” He moved right in front of Cavan for a moment, so close, Cavan detected a familiar and very pleasant smell—sawdust. “I bought all these signed behind-the-scenes from him.” Masterson pointed to a series of framed photos on the wall. “I think his werewolves are great. I love his gorillas, too. Oh, and my pride and joy is my Dracula room.” Masterson kept up a nonstop patter about loving “creature features” and his animals. His bedroom bore a huge painting of Frankenstein over the bed. It was creepy. Really creepy. Cavan must have telegraphed his revulsion, in spite of saying nothing and trying to process the house like a professional. “What can I say?” Masterson asked, cuddling one of his dogs. “I simply adore monsters.” There were four dogs and they all seemed in good shape. “Rescued all of them. This one here is called Roo. He’s a Jack Russell terrier, but I always say he’s part kangaroo.” The little dog sprang five feet into the air to lick the police officers’ chins. He kept bouncing. The guy wasn’t kidding. He picked up the dog on the sixth bounce. “Do you have any outside pets?” Ben asked. “Absolutely not. We get coyotes in this part of town and nighttime. Why that’d be like ringing a dinner bell. I like blood, 7
TAME
officers, but only in the movies.” “Mind if we look?” Ben asked. “Then we’ll be on our way.” Masterson looked as if he did mind them going outside, but he undid the many locks on the door and opened it. Buster bounded out, but returned on command. Ben walked down the few short steps to the grass, stepped outside and looked around. There was a jungle-like feel to the trees towering across the property’s borderline and the plethora of plants everywhere. Cavan and Ben searched around. It wasn’t easy with so little light. They took their flashlights off their tool belts. Cavan eyed the gigantic plants along the right side, some of which were in plastic pots. “Are there outside lights?” Ben asked. Masterson put all the dogs inside and flipped on a light over the door. The bulb didn’t illuminate much. The yard appeared small, but it was hard to see in the dark. Masterson came back out and closed the door behind him. He stood on the top step as Cavan joined Ben, who could see the neighbor’s house to his left. The kitchen had a clear view of the backyard in spite of the high fence and a lot of foliage from a long trail of bougainvillea topping it. Ben asked Masterson to open his garage. “There’s nothing in there,” he grumbled, but he went inside and got his keys. “He’s been building,” Cavan said, keeping his voice low. “I smelled sawdust. He’s got traces of it in his hair and on his shoulder. And that T-shirt. I know that lumber company. It’s from Klamath Falls, in Oregon.” Ben nodded. Masterson came outside and unlocked the garage. He yanked a 8
TAME
long cord above him and fluorescent lights flickered to life. The garage was filled with even more videos in bookshelves lining the walls. Some building materials stood in boxes. Ben looked at Cavan, who had detected a whiff of something else. Blood. Under the canopy of a dark, starless night, Cavan stepped into the backyard. He could hardly see, but he kept up a sweeping arc of the flashlight. He could hear Ben talking to the man now. Cavan concentrated. He had figured out the plants looked jumbled together but the farther he walked, the more they created a small, narrow path to the back of the property. Something made him swing his flashlight to the left. He almost missed it, except the smell of new wood was so strong. A shed. He turned and caught Ben’s eye. Ben came right to him, tripping over a stone. “What is it?” “A shed.” Ben arced his flashlight in the same direction. It was very well hidden. “There’s nothing in there. I don’t keep my dogs in there.” The man kept babbling. “You can’t go in there. That’s private.” They inched toward it, the big silver bolt on it glinting under the flashlights’ beams. Cavan saw a dark stain on the door. He was sure it was blood. “Unlock this please,” Ben insisted. “No. There’s no dogs in there. Come back with a search warrant.” They reached the shack, Cavan touching the lock. The padlock 9
TAME
had not been pushed all the way down. Inside the house, the dogs started barking like crazy, as if sensing something was very wrong. Cavan pulled out his iPhone with his free hand and surreptitiously began recording. “The lock,” Ben said again. Unbelievably, Luke Masterson took off running. Cavan heard Ben shouting something to him, but he didn’t respond. He wondered what horrors awaited him as he lifted the lock off the hinge, slid back the bolt and prepared to enter the shack. He heard Ben running and realized he’d gone after their suspect. Cavan braced himself as he got the door open and, flashlight in one hand, camera phone activated, began searching the small room. There in the corner sat a huddled creature chained to the wall, shackles on…his feet. It wasn’t a dog. It was a beaten, shivering, shaking, bloodied man. Cavan would never forget how the man tried to make himself smaller. Defenseless. Petrified. Suddenly, his head came up. His swollen eyes looked right at Cavan. Holy shit. “Don’t worry,” the man said. “I’m tame.”
10
TAME
CHAPTER 2 Tame? As long as he lived, Cavan would never forget those words. They would hurt and haunt him. I’m tame. Why in the world would any man have to say that? Shock. Cavan put it down to shock. “Easy,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m a police officer. My name is Cavan Carmichael. Help is on its way. Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore.” The man moaned. It was a strange, frightened sound. Cavan shook off the idea it sounded like a horse’s whinny. Maybe the poor man had heard these reassuring words before and it had led…to this. He radioed to Ben, who was out front. 11
TAME
“Dammit. I lost him,” Ben reported. “I got an APB out.” “Wait until you see what I found in here.” Cavan still couldn’t believe it. “I’m calling an ambulance.” Ben said something but his voice melted into static. The windowless shed was stifling. Cavan nudged the door open with his shoulder and radioed dispatch for an ambulance. He took a couple of deep breaths as he described to operator two-eleven the shocking condition of the chained man. “He’s naked…he’s taken a hell of a beating. I see blood pooled around his ass. How long’s that ambulance gonna be?” When Ben arrived, Cavan asked him to keep his flashlight trained on the corner so he could get a better look at the victim. “Don’t be afraid, sir,” Cavan told the man, who cowered under the harsh glare. “I’m sorry your eyes hurt, but I’m here to help you.” He reached the man, who smelled awful. Cavan wondered how long he’d been in here and when he’d last bathed. His dark hair hung in thick rivers around his face. Stubble covered half his face. “Easy, easy,” Cavan said again. He knelt in front of him, not thinking about anything except helping this poor, wretched soul. He laid his radio, cell phone and flashlight on the ground. “Have you been shot or stabbed?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle. “He cut me.” “What’s your name?” Cavan asked, his fingers moving to the man’s arm. His skin felt cold despite the stifling heat in the room. “Unit one-twenty-four, what’s the status of our victim?” the radio dispatcher asked. “He’s cold,” Cavan said. “Probably shock.” Cavan looked at the heavy iron chains on the man’s limbs. 12
TAME
Blood oozed freely from his right ankle, the restraints much tighter on that leg for some reason. “These are positively medieval,” Cavan said, without thinking. The man began to shake. “We got a blanket in the car?” Cavan asked Ben, glancing over his shoulder before picking up his own flashlight again. But Ben didn’t move. He, too, came closer and Cavan sensed him kneeling beside him as they stared at the intricate, interlocking system on the chains and locks that truly did look like ancient torture devices. “What the fuck are these?” Ben sounded horrified. “I can’t unlock these.” Cavan was beyond frustrated. “I’ve never seen anything like them. Ben, we need help.” “Ambulance is here,” Ben said. “I hear the sirens.” He rushed from the shed. Cavan put his hands back on the man’s body. “Hang in there, buddy. What’s your name?” This time the man answered and, for the first time, Cavan detected an accent, only he couldn’t place it. “Ludo.” “Ludo what?” “Just Ludo.” The man leaned his head against the wall as if these few short words had utterly drained him. “Where did he cut you, Ludo?” The man didn’t respond. And then the ambulance crew came running. Everything happened so fast. A passing squad of DEA officers had heard the call on the radio and dropped by to help. They brought bolt cutters. Poor Ludo moaned in agony as they worked on him. Cavan stayed with him, reassuring him. Ludo’s head dropped on his shoulder at one point. He went so still, Cavan thought he had died. 13
TAME
The unshackled man let out a scream as four men lifted him onto a gurney. The stench of his blood and, Cavan realized, feces, was overwhelming. Cavan followed the gurney outside, took a few deep breaths, donned gloves after the fact and bagged the ancientlooking restraints as evidence. He had no idea until his field sergeant arrived that he had recorded everything…but in those first few moments when Sergeant Veo took possession of his cell phone and viewed the footage, Cavan could only think that “Just Ludo” was lucky. When Cavan came out of the shed, bagged evidence in hand, the ambulance crew worked to fix an oxygen mask over Ludo’s face before moving on again. Cavan was astonished at the array of people in the backyard. All kinds of police units, including a K9, were combing Masterson’s property looking for evidence…or he wondered, were they looking for more victims? Over their heads, news choppers whirred. Cavan’s field sergeant was trying to say something but the choppers drowned him out. He looked up in the sky and shook his head. He gestured to Cavan, who followed him to the house where Masterson’s dogs were being carried out by members of the Westside emergency ASPCA unit. “Only four dogs?” one of the officers asked above the racket. “That’s what he said,” Cavan shouted back. Inside the house, now swarming with cops, Veo started asking questions. Some of the officers congratulated Cavan, who was aware of Ben standing right beside him. “Tell me how you came to find the shack,” Veo said. Cavan told him everything, including noticing the smell and presence of sawdust on Masterson. “That was a good find,” Veo said. “I don’t need to tell you the 14
TAME
state of California has taken a public beating over Jaycee Dugard’s eighteen year captivity right in plain sight and neighbors had called to report children in that backyard for a long time. I want to thank you both for taking your time,” he glanced at Cavan, “and acting on instinct.” He held up Cavan’s cell phone. “What you recorded here, my friend, is gold. Pure gold.” He tapped into the phone and kept talking. “Publicly, I will praise your heroic efforts, privately I want to slap you for going in there without your weapon drawn.” Veo managed a small, tight smile. “I’m only thinking of your safety. However, with LAPD’s recent record for being trigger-happy, your footage will help restore our reputation. I just emailed the video to myself.” He handed the cell phone back to Cavan. “Well done, both of you.” “Any word on Masterson?” Cavan asked. “We found him at the 7-Eleven on the corner of PCH and Sunset.” “Great,” Ben said. “He’s a real weirdo.” Veo moved off in the direction of one of the other officers calling for him. “Guess we’re dismissed.” Ben shrugged. “Yeah. Think Ludo will be okay?” “They say his blood pressure is dangerously low. He’s lost a lot of blood. They’re amazed he’s still alive.” Ugh. Outside the house, news crews vied to speak to them, but both Cavan and Ben avoided them. Cavan wanted to go home. He wanted to go to the hospital. Actually, he wanted to throw up at the thought of one man’s inhumanity to another. Ben nudged him, 15
TAME
pointing to a Chevy Tahoe. “Wonder what the hell the bomb squad’s doing here?” Cavan had no idea. His hands felt sticky and he realized he had Ludo’s blood on him. Ben drove them back to the station. Cavan kept seeing and smelling the poor man from the shed. “You’re covered in his shit,” Ben said, which probably explained things. Back at the station, as soon as they walked in, the night crew burst into applause. Cavan was mortified. “I did what any of you would have done,” he kept insisting. He checked the chains and locks from the crime scene into evidence and endured the good-natured but embarrassing kudos from the guys behind the steel-mesh grille. “Don’t forget to bag up your uniform and bring it to us. You’ve probably got tons of trace evidence on it,” the duty officer told him. “We’ll organize a replacement uniform tomorrow,” the watch commander said as he walked Cavan to the locker room. “What you did was act out of compassion. I know a few guys who woulda gone in, guns blazing. Thanks to you, people love us again. Somebody even brought in Yum Yum Donuts!” Cavan took a long shower, well, four minutes. The station’s showers cut off on the dot. He bagged up his soiled uniform, changed into jeans and a shirt and checked his uniform into evidence. He returned to the lobby to find everybody clustered around a television set. Cavan couldn’t believe it. Only two people had possession of the footage he’d shot upon entering the shed. He knew he hadn’t sent it to anyone, which meant that his field sergeant had leaked it to the mainstream media. 16
TAME
The footage was dark and made Cavan think of The Blair Witch Project, but it was chilling to watch. The man’s abject misery and terror were palpable. Then came his immortal words, “Don’t worry. I’m tame.” A gasp went up among the crew. Officer Felicity Jones, unhappily single mother of one and next in line for promotion to the detective division, put a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes. “Oh, that poor man.” Everybody watched as Cavan moved slowly, reassuring the man as he knelt in front of him. Only flashes of footage could be seen but the entire conversation could be heard at this point. Cavan remembered that he’d put the phone on the ground. “Ludo,” the victim was saying. Cavan couldn’t watch anymore. He couldn’t believe this harrowing encounter was on the evening news. “Where’s Ben?” he asked Felicity. It seemed difficult for her to tear her gaze from the TV. “Left already.” She cupped her hand around her mouth. “I think he’s a little jealous of all the attention you’re getting.” “Jealous? He was there, too!” “Shh,” she whispered. “Listen, you’d better type up your report.” “Now?” She nodded. It was the last thing he felt like doing but he did it, perched in his uncomfortable chair at his tiny desk in the maze of partitions that made up the uniform officers’ quarters. He emailed his report to Veo and both the day and night watch commanders, per the instructions in his two-inch thick West LA Police manual. As he came back into the lobby, his co-workers were still clustered 17
TAME
around the TV. They were all much more interested in Cavan the Hero on TV than Cavan the Real and Tired. He said goodnight and walked out of the station. Cameras flashed and people rushed him. Across the usually quiet Butler Street, residents waved. The watch commander and a few others stepped outside and Cavan gladly left them to enjoy the spotlight. He retreated back into the building. The only one man enough to accompany him to his vehicle via the rear exit was Felicity Jones. She walked him to where the cops all parked—a lined lot right next to the precinct’s impound yard. It sometimes caused problems with irate drivers who showed up to bail out towed vehicles. Some had been known to curse any cop who happened to be in the parking lot. “How’s your mom?” she asked as he thanked her for walking him to his old red Ford pickup. “She’s fine, thanks.” “Found her a place yet?” He shook his head. Cavan and his sister, Dina, had both spent a lot of time since he’d come to California trying to find their mother suitable accommodation in an assisted living facility. They’d found a few worthy choices but his mother hated everything. Even when the places met her nebulous criteria, she found some reason to decline them. There were her many, random phobias…and her, er…unusual collections. Both of these needed great consideration in her final choice. “How’s Ky?” he asked. Felicity’s three-year-old son had just been diagnosed as being autistic and now had a “shadow” accompanying him to preschool classes. The state-mandated therapist attended all of Ky’s school activities with him, monitoring his behavior and progress. Felicity appreciated the help 18
TAME
but told anyone who’d listen that she stressed over the daily reports. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re wiped out. Get in. I’ll wave off the cavalry.” He didn’t hesitate. He jumped into his truck as a herd of media people rounded the corner and began yelling out to him. “Stop right there!” He almost stopped himself. Felicity’s experience as a mother came in handy sometimes. Even the drunks in the holding tank had been known to obey her first command. He drove home toward his mother’s house, a nice, Spanishstyle house farther east of the precinct in an area known as the Wilshire Corridor. He couldn’t face her right now. Not since he’d forgotten to stop and buy her some bananas. Cavan put a quick call through to her. She must have been on the other line because went right to voice mail. He said he’d be home within the hour and detoured up La Cienega Boulevard to Cedars-Sinai Hospital. He found street parking, checked the street signs and was pleased to see he didn’t have to worry about dumping cash in the meter. In LA, the meters remained active until ten p.m. It was almost eleven-thirty. He walked to the hospital’s entrance on Third Street. He flashed his badge at the admissions nurse who said, “Wait a minute…you’re the officer who found Shack Guy.” He winced. Shack Guy. The nurse picked up her desk phone. “He’s just come out of surgery. I’m sure the doctor would like a word.” Cavan thanked her and moved off to the side. His rescue was being shown over and over again it seemed. Damn his field 19
TAME
sergeant leaking this to the media. The waiting room was filled with people who looked to be in varying degrees of agony, but he knew from experience only people gushing blood would receive immediate attention. A pleasant looking Indian man in a white lab coat approached him. “Officer Carmichael, I’m Dr. Samada. Come with me, please.” The doctor led him past a row of curtained-off beds into a small cubicle. “Did he say anything to you beyond his name being Ludo and that he was cut by his…assailant?” the doctor asked the moment he closed the door. “No,” Cavan said. “Nothing. Is he not responding to you?” “He’s very, very sick. He has a perforated colon. I am really surprised he is still alive because he’s been ill, I’d say, for at least a couple of weeks.” Cavan swallowed. “Has he been in captivity all that time?” “We don’t know. We haven’t been able to get much out of him.” “How did he get a perforated colon?” “There are a number of ways for this to happen, but my patient was raped so savagely by his attacker that his colon was torn.” “Oh, my God!” The doctor looked dismayed. “He also has some unusual injuries…cuts, all over his back and buttocks. I’ve never seen anything quite like them. I actually took photos and forwarded them to the FBI for analysis, along with his fingerprints since there is nothing the local police could find on AFIS. I would say, judging by the bruises and level of infection that he has endured, that he has been systematically raped and tortured for at least 20
TAME
several days.” “Is he going to make it?” “Oh, yes. He has a strong will to survive. He’ll be in here for a while, but he’s in the right place, thanks to you.” The doctor showed him a photo of Ludo’s back. It was one of the most disturbing images he’d ever seen. “What are those black things?” Cavan asked. “Infected cuts. His captor used some kind of rusty tool on the veins in one of his legs, too. I have a feeling it was to cause maximum pain.” The doctor shook his head. “This is one of the cruelest assaults I’ve ever come across.” He pointed to one of the cuts. “He also seems unusually hirsute. Some of the cuts already have hairs growing out of them.” “Really?” “That’s another thing. He has a really unusual blood type, but he is responding well to the transfusions we’ve given him. I’m worried about the long-term effects he may have from the perforation to his colon, but we’re giving him intravenous antibiotics and we’re keeping a close eye on him.” “I’m really pleased to hear this.” Cavan thought for a moment. “You’ll hear this from the patient himself, since I know he wants to speak to you, but his captor fed him nothing but dog food. He’s in severe gastro-intestinal distress, but with the surgery, this should improve.” “He…he said he wants to see me?” “Yes. Cavan, right?” On Cavan’s nod, he said, “That was about the only other thing he said. He wants to thank you. He said you were very kind to him.” “I was hoping to visit him. Is he awake? Can I see him?” “Sure. Come back tomorrow. He’s still coming out of sedation 21
TAME
now.” Cavan nodded. He wanted to stay but the doctor suggested he head home. “Check in with us first thing in the morning.” Cavan walked out of the hospital and wrestled with his inclination to go home, take a very long, hot shower, and the certainty that his mother would flip out if he didn’t bring home some bananas. He stopped at the Ralphs grocery store near the hospital, checking his watch. Almost midnight. Ralphs never closed, which was a blessing. He bought two bunches of bananas, making sure each bunch had at least one sticker and headed home. For the first time since he’d found Ludo in the shack, he felt hungry. He reached into the plastic shopping bag, ripped a banana from the stem, checked it for stickers and peeled it. He ate it in two gulps as he pulled into the driveway of his mom’s quaint Sixth Street house. She’d had many offers to sell from developers, but she always declined. She loved living here. It had been the home she bought with her retirement funds after years of stellar work for LAPD, but her failing health meant she needed a lot more care than either Cavan or Dina could give her. He unlocked the door, but he couldn’t open it very far. She’d put the chain across it again. She did this all the time. “Mom?” “Cavan?” He could hear her slow progress down the hall via her walker. He’d found a special one with wheels after she’d complained about her wheelchair repeatedly. “It’s me, Mom.” She opened the door, turning on all the lights, squinting at him as if checking to see it was really him. She smiled at him, but her real interest was in the bananas. She was like a little kid the way 22
TAME
she snatched at them, and he relinquished them to her custody. He followed her down the hallway. The house looked normal until you entered the living room. He followed her into it, helping her move from her Zimmer frame to her favorite chair. Tammie Carmichael was still attractive at sixty. She’d had him when she was thirty after years of trying for a baby. Unbelievably, a month after his birth, she became pregnant with Dina and there were only ten months between him and sister. His father had left the small family a week after Dina’s birth and his mother had devoted her life to her kids and her passion for collecting…weird stuff. His mother was tall, at five feet nine inches. She had her short, salt-and-pepper hair and nails done once a week. She’d always had pretty hands and in spite of her physical limitations, she prided herself on her appearance. She had been very athletic in her day until a car accident left her going back and forth between crutches and a wheelchair. Her obsession with collecting had morphed into a new and even stranger passion than her previous ones. But it had given her a new perspective and a whole legion of new friends. She lowered the volume on her flat-screen TV where it was set to the ever-present CNN headline news, as she heaved herself into her La-Z-Boy. Eyes gleaming, she took out the bananas and set them on a tray table in front of her. She put on her metal headband with the illuminated magnifying glass and studied the bananas. With the precise movements of a surgeon, she used forceps to remove the first sticker she found from one of the bananas. Her face fell. “Aw, nuts.” She peeled off the stickers, placing them onto plastic index cards. He worked hard not to roll his eyes when she said, “I already got these, but I do see a variance in shade in the stickers from Chile.” He had no clue what to say. He was hungry, but once again he 23
TAME
was staring at himself on screen. Cavan moved a couple of boxes and sat in the special red leather La-Z-Boy his mom had bought him. It was very comfortable and he’d been known to fall asleep easily in it, but the past few hours still ran around his mind like toy cars on a speed track. “They are different. Look.” His mother held out two index cards. He indulged her by looking. He found it hard to muster suitable excitement about the slightly different shade of palm trees on the stickers, however. Why, oh why, did his mother have to have such a weird hobby? In his weariness, he looked around at the endless boxes and shelves that contained eleven thousand banana labels and stickers. “You look peaked,” his mom said, handing him a banana. “Have one. I think you need the potassium.” “Just had one, thanks. We got any dinner left?” “No. I did leave you some, but I ate it all.” He nodded. Typical. She had once left him stewed carrots. They were horrible and mushy but in his famished state, even those would have been tasty. “I saw you on TV.” She gestured at the flat screen as she prepared clear plastic viewing envelopes for her new stickers. She had invested thousands of dollars in her bizarre collection and even traded with people she met online. He couldn’t believe how many wacky people out there thought that collecting useless fruit labels was a worthy use of their time. Her best friend collected dirt from all over the world, so Cavan supposed labels was a clean hobby. An image of the naked man in the shed flashed on the screen. He couldn’t believe Veo had leaked such sensitive footage. Poor Ludo would be haunted by this for the rest of his life. 24
TAME
Veo popped up on the screen. The moment they'd met, he’d struck Cavan as being ridiculously well-groomed and that opinion hadn't changed in the last twenty-four hours. Not a hair stood out of place, in spite of him being out on the streets late at night. Cavan squinted. Why was Veo wearing a bullet-proof vest? “He kinda reminds me of that guy from that TV show…NCIS,” his mom said. Cavan thought she had good instincts. He knew that Veo had a special ops background. But wait…was he wearing lip gloss? “I’m out of specimen labels,” his mom said. Never mind that he’d just worked a long day and was starving. Her banana labels needed labels! He wanted to laugh but was too tired. And hungry. He felt very grumpy now. His mother seemed to show no interest in the poor man on the TV. She fussed over her special label box as if examining MRIs for brain surgery. It was ridiculous how much work and money went into this useless obsession. Not only that, but she and two other women had started annual conventions for label collecting. Cavan and Dina were arguing over which of them would accompany their mother this year to the convention at the Burbank Hilton. As active as she was, she was a little frail physically and had fallen more than once bending over to pick up the morning paper. Now she kept everything at her fingertips and, apart from preparing supper, Cavan and Dina did all the work around the house. Lucky Dina, however, got to go home every night. To a house devoid of boxes of banana stickers. To amuse himself one night, Cavan had switched two labels around in a box. Dang if his mother hadn’t found it and flipped out about the chaos. He hadn’t tried anything like it since. Bananas, however, were beginning to drive him bananas. 25
TAME
“How in the world do you think he got hold of those lancets?” his mother suddenly asked. He was so drowsy and so hungry, Cavan struggled to follow her line of patter. “Sorry, Mom? What was that?” “The kidnapper. Where do you suppose he got hold of those spring lancets?” He stared at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She let loose a loud tsk and picked up the remote. She clicked on the DVR function and hit enter. His report came up. He was already sick of seeing the damned thing. She fast-forwarded until the camera focused on the strange locks he’d tried to figure out. “These,” she said, freezing the frame. “And you said they’re lancets?” She nodded. “I could tell you thought they were locks, but they’re spring lancets.” At his uncomprehending expression she let out another tsk. “They’re antique bloodletting instruments. I’ve seen these ones before. They’re from the eighteenth century. Here…I found a listing on Christie’s auction house online.” She reached to another table beside her and swung her Apple Air laptop around so he could see the image. He took hold of the laptop and gaped at the screen. They were a match for the lancets he’d been holding in the shack. And yes, he had thought they were locks. “They have a spring blade that pops out and hits the vein. They used to use these in the old days.” “How do you know about them?” he asked. “My friend Alan collects antique medical gadgets. He’s got a similar one in his collection.” 26
TAME
Cavan’s mind began to race even faster. Maybe this lancet was what Luke Masterson had used on poor Ludo. “These are worth a lot of money,” his mom said. “Whoever this Luke Masterson is, he’s very sick and twisted using these on anybody.” Cavan retrieved his cell phone from his back pocket. His mother turned up the volume on a report of a mother who had just thrown her baby off a rooftop at children’s hospital. He went to the kitchen for privacy. Suddenly, he was no longer hungry. He put a call through to Cedars-Sinai and left a message for Dr. Samada. “I think I know what caused those unusual cuts on Ludo’s body,” he said. Next he called his immediate supervisor, Sergeant Veo. “Sir,” he said, leaving him a message as well, “one of the items I retrieved in the shed was a spring lancet. An antique bloodletting instrument. I’d never seen anything like them before. There might have been two. It was dark and it was hard to tell. I just knew I couldn’t open them.” He stood against the kitchen sink, pressed his fingers to his eyes and in his mind saw the cowering, squatting form of Ludo. What terrors this poor man had been subjected to…
27
TAME
CHAPTER 3 Cavan rifled the fridge. For a woman who was mad about all things banana, his mom never kept the actual items on hand once she had peeled off their stickers. She’d dipped a few bananas in chocolate and frozen them, but he wanted something more substantial. He found a frozen Lean Cuisine pizza and nuked it, washing down the bland slices with a can of Diet Dr. Pepper. Man, the pizza tasted like cardboard. He glanced at the portion in his hand. Oops, it was cardboard. It had somehow stuck to the pastry. He peeled it off and kept eating in spite of the total absence of flavor. It was better than nothing. He swigged his soda, staring out of the kitchen window as he ate over the sink. There were no free chairs. Since he’d left for work, his mother had piled boxes all over the 28
TAME
kitchen. Each day boxes seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Cavan stared up at the unusual moon. It had an odd shape, almost like a heart. For some reason, it made him feel very sad. No, he knew the reason. He was lonely. His lover, Vince, had made him choose between his mother and their plans to move to Montana to run an organic vegetable farm. Cavan had hoped that Vince would wait for him, until he could sort out his mother’s house move, but he hadn’t. For months, it had been very stressful when Cavan started making trips to LA to help his sister, who had her own problems. She was married and had a ten year old stepson who loved her one week, hated her the next. Still, Dina was a fabulous woman and tried hard to be a great stepmother to Max. Dina and her husband, Garrett, got custody visits every other weekend and two nights a week, which meant that she had her hands full. Cavan didn’t mind helping but it hurt that Vince never came with him, claiming that he could never return to LA. And yet, up until the day they’d moved to Klamath Falls together three years before, Vince had been an LA native. Cavan hadn’t loved the farm they bought as much as Vince did. In hindsight, Cavan realized that he’d done everything he could to accommodate Vince but the favor had not been reciprocated. They had started with a small property in Klamath Falls, but money had been tight and Cavan returned to work as a cop. He’d frankly enjoyed doing both jobs and thought things were fine. The farm was just starting to financially sustain itself when Vince once again grew restless and wanted to move. In hindsight, Cavan could see now that their problems had begun then. It was too soon to move and Cavan enjoyed having law enforcement and the farm in his life. And then his mother was 29
TAME
injured in a bad car accident. Not once did Vince visit her, but his mother never said a negative word about Vince. Instead, she’d urged Cavan to go home and be with his partner. “Don’t make my mistake,” she’d said. “I put my job and you kids first. Your father felt neglected.” “No, Mom,” he’d responded. “Dad was an asshole. You were fantastic. I know you loved him.” And he loved his mother. He had ignored her advice and kept commuting. He did feel very stressed out, but figured it was all temporary until his mom got better. He’d asked Vince more than once, “Wouldn’t you do the same if it were your mother?” Vince said no, that he would never put anyone above Cavan. But he had. He’d put his own ambitions above them both. When Cavan returned home to Klamath Falls one Sunday evening, he found that Vince had left him. No note, no goodbye, no…nothing. Not only that, but he discovered his lover hadn’t been making the mortgage payments, even though Cavan had given him money each month. As of now, Cavan still owned the farm. He’d bought out Vince and had kept up payments. But Vince running out on him was like his father all over again. That had been a few months ago. Cavan didn’t dwell on it too much anymore. He was over Vince, who’d turned out to be the kind of guy Cavan never dreamed he’d be. Selfish and manipulative. He was over the loving feelings he’d had for the guy…not over what Vince had done to him. Last he’d heard from the sparse gay grapevine stretching from Northern California to Montana, Vince had a new boyfriend. Cavan had tried calling Vince, who’d changed his cell phone number and blocked Cavan from emailing him. It had been 30
TAME
devastating. The only thing that had been keeping Cavan in Klamath Falls was Vince. Once he’d accepted that Vince didn’t want him and had really moved on, Cavan had taken a demotion to be here in LA. He had a weird feeling things were going to change. It was an inexplicable feeling, born perhaps of an unusual moon on a rare night in which he’d helped to save somebody’s life. The TV went quiet. He dropped his can and pizza box in the trashcan that smelled strongly of bananas. Walking past the living room, he saw that his mother was now online, no doubt working on things involving bananas. “Cavan,” she said, looking up from her laptop. “A collector in the Philippines is sending me that label I wanted! We’re doing a trade.” “The label with the monkey on it?” She nodded happily. He bent and kissed her heavily lacquered hair. She might have been the only woman alive who still had vast quantities of Dippity Doo, and used it. And he might be the only man alive who had such a boring existence he was intimately acquainted with his mother’s label collection. Somebody shoot me… He caught himself. No, he was lucky. His mom was doing pretty well and he had his health. His mind returned to Ludo and he called the hospital from his cell phone. “Critical, but guarded condition,” the nurse on duty told him. He wanted to know exactly what that meant, but she wouldn’t give further details. Cavan finally took a long, hot shower and hit the sheets. Naked in bed, he longed for sexual release. He played lightly with his cock and balls, which hardened instantly as he fired up his laptop. He had a decent collection of gay porn on it. He and Vince had enjoyed watching movies together and indulging their mutual 31
TAME
sexual fantasies. One of his favorite models was the Cuban superstar Rafael Carreras. Always threatening retirement, the hot, hung model had just shot a new movie, Backdoor, in the back streets of Montreal. Cavan had a subscription to Lucas Entertainment and downloaded the link to watch the scene. He was starting to feel good now. His cock hardened, his pubic hair damp to the touch. It always made him feel good to jerk off right after a hot shower. Vince had never liked sex after showering. He said it made him feel dirty again. Whatever. Don’t think about him. Think about someone else. Think about Rafael. What he liked about this company’s movies were that the models were hot and there was a plotline and usually beautiful cinematography backing up the man on man action. Rafael stood against the fire stairs of some decrepit apartment building. He smoked a cigarette and gave a panhandling old granny some money. He liked that Rafael did that. The model had a bad haircut, however, and when his scene partner, Ryan Russell, strolled down the dangerous-looking alley, grabbed him, shoved him up against the wall and kissed him, Cavan immediately got an iffy stiffy. The cop in him bristled at the scene. It got worse. They went into an ugly room and began having uncomfortable looking sex on a table. With dildos. Two no less, shoved up Ryan Russell’s apparently willing ass. What a waste when the man had one of the finest looking cocks in porn history at his disposal. Cavan considered switching to one of Rafael’s tried and true scenes, but when that, too, failed to hit his ignition, turned the computer off. He lay in the dark, stroking himself off, willing himself to just enjoy it. 32
TAME
For a hard-up guy I’m acting damned picky. No, he realized in the next moment that he wasn’t hard up for sex, he was hard up for the connectedness that sex brought. He hadn’t been able to jerk off in weeks and he felt the effects of the abstinence. It made him anxious, yet he couldn’t let go and just enjoy. His cock semi-hard, he gave up. He slept badly, the time feature on his new clock radio too bright for his eyes. He kept having nightmares about Ludo. The sounds the man had made as Cavan worked to free him would forever haunt him. As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t sleep well and awoke at six, his stomach rumbling. He threw on sweatpants and T-shirt and called the station house from the kitchen as he made coffee. Masterson was being held without bail until a court appearance that afternoon and, as was typical in these cases, was being very uncooperative. Veo called him a few minutes later. “Just got into the office,” he said, chewing on something. “Your fans brought in cupcakes first thing this morning. Maple bacon. Mmmm…” Great. Even the guys at work were eating better than he was. He rifled the pantry. Half a box of cereal and enough milk in the fridge for a bowl for his mother. There were last night’s bananas. Where the hell was all the food he’d bought two days ago? Cavan poured himself a cup of coffee. The smell alone put him in a better mood. He watched his next-door neighbor sneaking into his backyard. Literally sneaking, and turning on his sprinklers. Los Angeles had strict watering laws and his neighbor just violated them. He froze when he turned and caught Cavan’s gaze. Cavan gave him a finger wave. He didn’t give a fuck about sprinklers. He wanted maple bacon cupcakes. 33
TAME
“Got your message last night,” Veo said. “I had the watch commander check into the stuff you brought in. Believe it or not, it’s all gone missing.” “What?” Cavan’s hand jerked and the coffee scalded his lips. “Yeah. We know you signed it in and we have a record of what you brought. There’s a logbook entry for a change in shift. I’m reviewing the tapes now. I’ll get back to you.” Cavan went to check on his mother. She’d fallen asleep in her chair, which was not uncommon for her, but he knew her physical therapist would freak out. “Mom,” he said, shaking her awake. She opened her eyes. “What is it?” “I gotta get out of here, gotta go to work. I made coffee. Can I get you a cup?” “What time is it?” “Six.” “No.” She closed her eyes again. “Wait. How about the news update?” “What update?” “Weren’t you talking to your sergeant just now?” Sheesh. Feigning sleep… “Yes, why?” “The next door neighbor who reported the dog abuse case says Luke Masterson wasn’t the man he saw abusing the dog. He’s on TV saying it was Ludo who was beating the dog.” “Did they find the dog?” She shook her head. “No. It’s weird. The police say that Masterson put Ludo in restraints in self-defense.” “What?” “Yeah…nobody believes him. The talking heads are having a 34
TAME
field day.” “Any news on Ludo?” She shifted in her chair. “Upgraded to guarded condition, whatever that means.” She gave him a thumbs-up. “The doctors are about to give a press conference. Are you going to visit him?” He reached down and hugged her. “Yes, I will.” “Will you be on TV?” She looked excited at the prospect. He laughed. “No, Mom, sorry.” “You’re so handsome, you should be on TV.” He kissed her head again. “I’ll keep my phone on, in case you need me. You want me to pick up some groceries?” She shook her head. “We have plenty.” Plenty? He knew Dina would be coming by in a couple of hours. He’d call and ask her to get some staples in. It was weird. He’d made sure they had a fridge full of food the day before. “Chelsea’s coming at eight,” she said, barely keeping the indignation from her tone. Chelsea was her physical therapist, or as his mother liked to call her, professional bully. “I think it’s really strange, Cavan.” “What is? Chelsea?” She shook her head. “This whole case. It makes no sense.” She was right about that. *
*
*
Cavan flew through his gym session at LA Fitness, showered, changed and walked into the station house at seven-thirty. He felt vaguely victorious when he snagged the last half cupcake left in a box in the duty kitchen. He greeted his co-workers and made his way to the locker room. Man, the cupcake was awesome. Just as 35
TAME
his mouth got all excited about the unusual mix of salty and sweet, he’d finished the measly half. “Hey, Ben,” he said when he noticed his partner lounging on the wooden bench in front of his open locker. “Hey.” Ben’s frigid tone surprised him, but then he remembered that Felicity said he was sore that Cavan got so much attention for Ludo’s rescue. “That was a wild night, wasn’t it?” Cavan asked. “Great teamwork.” Ben didn’t respond. He stood, folding some papers in his hand, stuffing them into his backpack. He radiated pure venom, a physical force so strong it was almost frightening. He shoved the backpack into his locker, slammed the door shut, flipping the lock closed. He refused to make eye contact with Cavan. “Everything okay?” Cavan asked. “How the fuck did you know?” Cavan stared at him. “Know…what?” “Come on, Carmichael.” Ben shoved a finger in his face. “How the fuck did you know I tripped in the fucking garden and never went after our suspect last night?” “I didn’t know.” Cavan frowned at him. “I was in that smelly shed. No windows…remember? How could I have seen you in the garden?” Ben didn’t listen. Or couldn’t listen. A white rage bubbled to the surface and he screamed. “You get a commendation and I get…a fucking transfer?” Cavan stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know about any transfer and I didn’t know you fell. Did you hurt yourself?” “Oh, blow me.” Ben’s face contorted with anger. “You know 36
TAME
what? Fuck you, man. Fucking fuck you.” He opened his locker again, took out his backpack and smacked the door, almost ripping it off its hinges. “What do you mean you’re getting transferred?” Ben shouldered the backpack. “Just that, super fuck. You reported me and—” “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t see you!” Veo walked into the locker room looking immaculate as always. Cavan stared at him. Was he wearing makeup? “You still here?” Veo’s voice dripped disdain. “Apparently.” Ben seemed to calm down a little. “What’s the problem here?” Veo’s gaze flickered back and forth between them. “No problem.” Ben looked at the ground, hand on hips. He toed the feet on the locker room bench as if he just didn’t know what to do with himself. Cavan stared at the cupcake in Veo’s hand. Where was he keeping his stash? “Sir,” Cavan said, “there is a problem.” “Fuck,” Ben ground out. Cavan talked quickly. “He seems to think I reported him tripping when he went after our suspect last night.” Veo frowned. “Nobody reported you, Ortega. Masterson’s neighbor recorded the whole thing. You got up and instead of going after your guy, your cell phone rang. You got a message and texted back some chick!” Ben’s face turned bright red. He shook his head as he looked away. “That isn’t how it happened.” “Yeah, it is. I subpoenaed your phone records this morning 37
TAME
after I saw the footage. We got ’em pretty fast.” Ben’s head jerked up. “The…er…footage?” “Yeah. You’re lucky it’s not all over the Internet. You made your partner deal with a life-threatening situation alone so you could sext your girlfriend.” “I didn’t—” “You’ve sexted her seventeen hundred times since August. On a state-issue cell phone. I’ve only read the messages from this week alone but I’d say you’re addicted and controlling.” Ben didn’t respond. He looked desperate when he said, “I can change. Please give me a second chance. Please don’t make me go to the Rampart Division.” Veo shrugged. “Too late. It’s out of my hands.” He looked at Cavan. “You and I have an appointment at Cedars-Sinai. The watch commander wants us there for the press conference.” Veo sank his perfect California teeth into his cupcake and walked out of the locker room. “Shit,” Cavan said. “I’m so sorry this happened.” “Oh, fuck you.” Ben walked out. Cavan sat on the bench. The day had barely started and it already sucked. He took a deep breath. He called Dina, who answered on the second ring. “Cav,” she asked, “how’d she sleep?” “In her chair.” “Ah, that explains the grumpiness this morning.” “She was grumpy with you?” “Yeah. She wouldn’t let Chelsea in the house. I’m going over there now. Chelsea’s sitting outside in her car. She says she’s scared of Mom.” Cavan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She’s scared of 38
TAME
her? Geez…sis, I meant to ask if you’ll pick up some groceries. I don’t know how but the house is empty. There was enough cereal and milk for Mom to have breakfast—” Dina cut him off. “What do you mean, empty? I filled the fridge yesterday.” “You did? That’s weird. Because I filled it two days ago.” “What in the world is she doing with all the food?” Dina let out an exasperated sound. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.” Dina ended the call. Cavan tried not to stress. He’d had these conversations with his sister before. When he was in Klamath Falls, he was too far away. Now he was here living with Mom it still wasn’t good enough. He had to work. Dina acted as if he lay about the house eating lime creams and not lifting a finger. He pocketed his phone and buttoned up is shirt. He was wearing a black T-shirt underneath it. City regulations mandated that officers wear a white one during the day and black or midnight blue for night, but he worked a twelve-hour shift and he had no clean white Ts handy. He hoped Veo wouldn’t notice and make a big deal of it. Cavan checked his uniform in the mirror on the opposite wall. Damn. He’d forgotten to take his dirty shirts and Ts to the cleaners. His only other uniform pants were now considered evidence. He had to get a replacement and get the rest of his stuff to the cleaners as soon as he could. Satisfied that his T-shirt was not visible under his shirt, he walked back into the main floor. He found Veo chatting up Felicity as she tacked a new poster to the wall by the entrance. Driving Buzzed is Driving Drunk. The guy in the photo was hot. Cavan felt the faint stirrings of… Geez…I need to get laid. I’m fantasizing about poster boys. Felicity fumbled a tack. It fell. She dropped and picked it up. 39
TAME
She batted her eyelids as she looked over her shoulder to continue her conversation with Veo. Her lips moved into a smile. Cavan had never seen her smile. He took it all in. Man…could whip-smart Felicity be falling for über -buffoon Veo? “Ready?” Veo asked him, a snap to his tone. Felicity’s eyes sparkled as she winked at Veo. She must have noticed Cavan’s gaze because she bestowed a wink on him, too. The two men walked out of the station. “What are we supposed to be doing at this press conference?” Cavan asked as they walked outside. The street was calm, thank God. Butler Avenue was not the kind of place you would imagine housing a police station. Leafy, residential and surrounded by a prominence of condos, Cavan understood why Ben had described it as “condo city.” Ben. Cavan felt awful about the way things had ended between them. On the other hand, knowing that his partner had been texting instead of chasing down Masterson galled him. The sun shone…crazy warm again. Veo stood in his well-polished shoes with the kind of stance a king might take as he surveyed his domain. “It’s just a meet and greet, job well done type of thing. We are not addressing the criminal aspects of the case at all. That comes later.” Man, Veo’s white teeth were blinding. “I don’t have to speak, do I?” Veo’s head whipped around to him like Robo Cop. “You don’t want to speak?” “Hell, no. It’s embarrassing enough that my partner hates me 40
TAME
and that tape got leaked to the media.” Veo flushed slightly. His cell phone rang and he took the call. “Understood,” he said. He ended the call. “Well, Carmichael, I’m happy to represent. Chief Charlie Beck and the mayor will be there. I can speak for you. For the whole department. You just need to stand there and look handsome.” He chucked his fingers under Cavan’s chin. They drove in one of the bomb squad’s SUVs, the driver congratulating him on the previous night’s case. Cavan wondered why they needed to be chauffeured by a unit that must have better things to do, but he kept his mouth shut and didn’t ask questions. “Thanks.” Cavan felt nervous. He wanted to see Ludo. He didn’t give a shit about press conferences, but he dutifully trotted into the hospital’s conference room. It was packed to the rafters with media types. Cavan joined Police Chief Beck and a row of other officers he’d never met before on the dais, as Dr. Samada and another man in a white coat began speaking. Before they got a chance to talk, the city mayor, Antonio Villaraigosa snatched the mike and began talking. Cavan knew all about the mayor and the running gag that he went wherever the cameras went. Cavan listened as the mayor and several other people took credit for busting open the case of the chained-up man. Funny…I don’t remember any of them being there last night when I found Ludo. Chief Beck praised Cavan. The doctors praised him and reported that Ludo was doing unusually well, responding to treatment. “I’ve never seen such a savage attack, but we are confident he will recover fully,” Samada said. Veo longed to jump into the fray, Cavan could tell. A couple of 41
TAME
reporters asked Cavan questions, but the mayor, who apparently now thought he was a cop, answered everything. Veo began to glower. The press conference became less formal once the mayor disappeared and the news crews went off in search of other stories. “Gotta take a leak,” Cavan whispered to Veo, who nodded, seizing the opportunity to share his wisdom with a radio crew from NPR. Cavan wormed his way out of the conference room and onto the first floor wards. He approached a desk nurse and asked about Ludo. She pointed him through a set of glass doors. He found his way to yet another nurse’s station. The nurse was a little unhelpful until Cavan said that Dr. Samada had indicated that Ludo wanted to see him. “Just a minute.” She walked off on squeaky, crepe-soled shoes. He stared at them. They were odd shoes with the higher part at the top of the foot instead of the heel. He wondered if they were comfortable. She quickly returned. “He wants to see you,” she said, a warm smile spreading across her face. He followed her to a darkened room, curtains drawn against the sun. Ludo lay back on top of the covers, against a mountain of pillows, his hands and feet bandaged. He lay on top of the covers, scratches and welts visible. Somebody had washed his hair. It looked curlier and cleaner. He didn’t smell anymore. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, and left them alone. “Thank you,” Ludo said, his gaze on Cavan’s face. He had a TV remote by his side and he switched off the unit as he spoke. “You look so much better.” Cavan found himself feeling very emotional. “I am so glad you’re going to be okay.” 42
TAME
“Thanks to you.” Ludo’s voice cracked. His head turned slightly. “You didn’t say anything at the press conference.” Cavan shook his head. “Not my kind of thing. I wanted to come and see you. I came last night but you were in recovery.” Ludo’s head turned a little more, his chin jutting toward the chest of drawers to his right. “I’ve got all kinds of IVs in my hands…it makes it…hard. Can you hand me that cup of crushed ice, please? They won’t give me liquids yet, but I am so thirsty.” Cavan held the plastic cup to Ludo’s face. For the first time, he realized how handsome the man was. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he crunched the ice chips. “Better?” Ludo nodded and took some more chips. “You have a strong will to survive,” Ludo said. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” “Not as much as I was. I have a catheter right now. That’s not much fun but the pain in my gut is so much better. I’m really hungry. They’re promising me soup tonight, but what I really want is shrimp.” “Shrimp?” Cavan was shocked by their entire conversation. Ludo seemed so…alive. He seemed robust and…he wanted shrimp? “I love shrimp. I prefer langostino…” His face took on a dreamy look. Cavan laughed. “If they let me, I’ll bring you some.” Ludo smiled. It was a strange, but oddly beautiful smile, as if his face wasn’t used to it. “Where are you from?” Cavan asked. Ludo’s dreamy expression vanished. Wariness replaced it. “Argentina,” he said, as if the admission cost him. 43
TAME
Ludo’s eyes closed. They said nothing for a moment. The nurse returned. “He needs rest,” she whispered. “Okay.” Cavan nodded. “Bring me shrimp next time, okay?” Ludo’s dark eyes opened and seemed to hold Cavan to a promise. “I’ll do that.” They smiled at each other. Cavan longed to tell Ludo that it wasn’t he who leaked the footage to the media. He was so grateful Ludo was alive and wanted the man to know that. “You’re a good man, Officer Cavan.” Ludo closed his eyes again and seemed to fall asleep. *
*
*
On the ride back to the station, Veo was pissed that so many others had stolen their thunder. “We’re going to stage our own press conference at two o’clock,” Veo said. “I can’t wait.” He pulled out a comb and worked it through his already immaculate hair. Cavan and the bomb squad driver exchanged smiles. “You interest me,” he said. It took Cavan a moment to realize that Veo was talking to him. “I do?” Cavan was taken aback. “You come off like…I dunno…kinda goofy, but you have a confidence in you. A quiet confidence. I guess that’s why you think it’s okay to wear a black T-shirt under your uniform.” “Thanks…I think.” Back at the station, the driver held the door for Veo. “Got time for a coffee?” he asked Cavan sotto voce as they walked into the 44
TAME
station. Cavan thought he might have misheard the guy, but the quirked brow focused on him told him otherwise. “Er…sure. I think. Hang on, lemme check.” Cavan was flustered. The guy was handsome but was he gay? He didn’t even know his name. “I was wondering if I’m supposed to be hitting the streets…or if I can grab a quick coffee?” he asked Felicity, who was dumping family-size plastic bags of candy into plastic jack-o-lanterns. “You’re off the roster until they find you a new partner.” She clicked through computer records as Cavan mined the candy stash for gold. He found it. A root beer barrel. His favorite. “I know Sergeant Veo wants you here for the press conference at two-thirty, so you’ve got plenty of time for that coffee, but stay close to the station, yeah?” “No problem. By the way, where’s the closest cleaners?” She flicked a glance at him. “I have a guy that comes in and picks up uniforms every day. He can have it back to you tomorrow.” “Really?” “Ben didn’t tell you?” She looked annoyed. “Probably too busy texting his girlfriend.” “Sergeant Veo also mentioned that I could get a replacement uniform.” Her face darkened to a dangerous shade. “I’m being nice, Carmichael, but I ain’t your housekeeper.” “My uniform’s been checked into evidence and I have nobody else to ask. I’m sorry if I offended you.” He was anxious now. He’d just lost his partner after a single day and now his only friend in the station house was mad at him. 45
TAME
She softened a little. “Give me your measurements. I’ll handle it. And bring me your dirty gear.” “Thanks.” He rushed to the locker room and returned to find the bomb unit officer waiting for him. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” Cavan said, but the cop inclined his head and walked outside. Once again he found himself standing with an officer surveying Butler Avenue as if he owned it. He remembered Veo’s words and felt a little deflated. Did he really come off as goofy? Goofy wasn’t good, right? Goofy wasn’t sexy. “Got any place special in mind?” the bomb squad guy asked. “No. I’m new in town. I’ll let you lead the way.” The guy nodded. As they walked down the street, he held out his hand. “I’m Mitch Berman.” “Cavan Carmichael.” They shook hands. “So what’s it like being on the bomb squad?” Cavan asked. Mitch looked at him. “I wouldn’t have any idea. Why do you ask?” “You’re not with the bomb squad?” “No, Where’d you get that idea?” “There was a similar type vehicle at the crime scene I worked last night. My partner said it was the bomb squad.” “They do have similar vehicles.” Mitch seemed to be cherrypicking his words. “And I do believe they were there last night. The guy you caught…well…the kidnapper had quite a cache of weapons hidden in the house and in the trunk of his car.” “He did?” This was news to Cavan. They crossed Santa Monica Boulevard. Cavan got a good, strong whiff of the other man. Speed Stick and day old laundry. Man, what Cavan wouldn’t give for some hot goddamn fucking. 46
TAME
He and Vince might have split up two months ago but they hadn’t had sex for weeks before that. He frowned now, thinking about it. That should have been a giveaway. I should have seen the signs. Mitch held a screen door open as they entered a cafe called Cacao. As they walked in, Cavan was taken by the kitsch tiki decor, but felt like he and Mitch were the oldest guys in the cafe. The place was filled with kids working on computers and sipping gigantic cups of coffee. The women were all blonde, the guys kind of geeky looking. At the counter, Mitch treated him to a cappuccino. The smell of the coffee reminded Cavan that he was starving. “I can recommend the muffin tops,” Mitch said, buying a couple of them. “You want a banana?” “No, thanks.” Cavan would be very happy to never, ever see another banana again. They retreated to the quietest corner they could find. Cavan was about to sip his cappuccino when Mitch asked, “What pattern did he make for you?” “Excuse me?” “What pattern did he make? In your foam? I have a jack-olantern. He’s really quite an artist. What did you get?” Cavan stared at his cup. “A heart shape,” he said, feeling a blush coming on. “Maybe it’s going to be your lucky day,” Mitch said. “That would be…nice.” “You had quite a night.” Mitch sipped at his drink, the jack-olantern’s gap-toothed smile becoming distorted when he set his cup down again. Cavan wrapped his hands around his own cup. He wanted to hold his heart for as long as he could. It was a beautiful heart, a 47
TAME
smiling heart. He thought of Ludo all alone in the hospital. Who was he? Did he have family? Was he gay? Straight? “Cavan?” He looked up. “Sorry. I keep thinking about him…you know, the man I found.” “It’s a weird-ass story, isn’t it?” “What have you heard?” Cavan was curious. “Probably no more than you’ve heard. The guy who held him hostage has more aliases than a porn star. I heard Veo say they found a load of guns.” He shrugged. “What do you do for the division if you’re not in the bomb squad?” Cavan asked. Mitch gave him a twisted sort of smile. “Not much with the crime being down and now that robbery and homicide took over your case, I’m driving that asshole Veo around.” “But that still doesn’t tell me what you do.” Mitch seemed hesitant. Cavan wondered what he’d said wrong and focused his mind on coffee instead of questions. He barely had time for a sip when his cell phone rang. He checked the readout. “Sergeant Veo wants me back at the station,” he said. “Bummer.” Mitch looked disappointed. Cavan sipped fast, taking the muffin and coffee to go. “I’m gonna hang for a while.” Mitch must have known it wasn’t Cavan’s fault, that work came first, but he felt an invisible door closing between them. He thanked the man for the food and coffee and when he received a lukewarm response, walked out the door. He had the peculiar feeling of ships crossing each other and the faint bonds of attraction that had begun snapping irretrievably. He hesitated outside the cafe. Did he dare go back inside and 48
TAME
ask for a date? He turned around, retraced his steps, surprised at how nervous he felt. Mitch was on his cell phone texting. He looked up, but the expression on his face wasn’t welcoming. “Something wrong?” he asked. “I just thought…I wondered…I—” Mitch’s cell phone rang. “Gotta take this.” He got up and walked to the back of the cafe. What the fuck? Cavan felt slapped. It was stupid, he knew it. He hardly knew the guy, but losing Vince had shorn him of all his confidence. He walked outside again, L’il Wayne coming over the sound system telling him How to Love.
49
TAME
CHAPTER 4 Veo seemed super-pissed when Cavan walked back into the station. Cavan had squaffed his coffee and muffin in the few short blocks from the cafe. Strangely, the foamy heart had stayed more or less the same even as the cup emptied. A pretty heart in an empty cup. Why did this feel like the story of his life? As he tossed the cup and paper bag into a trash bin at the entrance, he still couldn’t figure out why Mitch Berman had shut down on him the way he had but now Veo was gesturing to him. He led Cavan past a row of closed interview rooms into his own office. “This is Lieutenant Forsythe of the robbery-homicide unit and he has a few questions for you,” Veo said. Cavan noticed Veo was now wearing a black T-shirt under his uniform shirt. Whatever. He shook hands with Lieutenant Forsythe 50
TAME
who said, “Call me John.” “John Forsythe? Like the actor?” Cavan couldn’t resist. “Yeah, I get that a lot and no, we’re not related.” Forsythe seemed to be cool though. He didn’t act irritated. He took a seat behind Veo’s desk, much to the latter’s chagrin, leaving Veo to sit beside Cavan on the other side. “How much have you learned about the case you worked last night?” John asked without any preamble. “Not much.” “But you figured out that what you thought were chain locks were actually antique medical instruments.” “No. My mother told me that.” “How’d she figure that out?” “From the footage she saw on TV.” John nodded. “Are you aware that Luke Masterson is turning out to be a real shady guy?” “I can’t deny that. Sergeant Veo told me you found all kinds of weapons on his property and in his vehicle. Plus…he was definitely evasive in my dealings with him.” “What made you search so hard for this alleged, suffering dog?” All of this was in Cavan’s report, he was certain. But he repeated his story. He’d acted on instinct when he’d noticed the sawdust. “He’s only been back in Los Angeles a few days. He drove down from Oregon. He had a big truck, according to the lumber yard that sold him the material for his shed.” “Have you found the truck?” Forsythe shook his head. “Is there anything else that struck you during your investigation?” 51
TAME
“Nothing I can think of.” “We can’t get the victim to talk. Beyond his first name, he remains silent. We have no record of his fingerprints anywhere. I mean, he seems to have dropped out of the sky. The Department of Homeland Security says they have nothing matching his prints on passengers coming into this country for the last three years.” Cavan said nothing. Should he reveal that Ludo told him he was from Argentina? The words slipped out before he could think about it. “How in the world did you find that out?” Forsythe looked shocked. Veo said nothing, watching the two men talk as if he were taking in match point at Wimbledon. “He told me.” “He told you? When?” “This morning. I went to see him.” “At the hospital?” Veo frowned. “You said you were taking a leak.” Cavan shrugged. “I was worried about him. I’ll never forget what I saw…how he smelled last night. I—” He shook his head. Forsythe swung in Veo’s chair. “That’s interesting. That’s very interesting. Masterson claims he’s known this guy for years and they entered into a Dominant/submissive relationship.” “I don’t believe it. That man was terrified,” Cavan said. John held up a hand. “I’m not saying we believe him, but we’ve got nothing to go on. He doesn’t say anything. I’m pretty sure it’s trauma. I’m no shrink, but I’m thinking, you know, you seem to have formed a bond with this guy. Maybe you could, you know…talk to him.” 52
TAME
“I really don’t think—” Veo began. “This is out of your hands,” John said. “Since you have no partner for Officer Carmichael, I’d like to borrow him for fortyeight hours, if I may.” It didn’t seem to be a question, but Veo treated it as such. “Forty-eight hours. We need him. We’re short-handed.” “Forty-eight hours.” John stood. “First thing I need you to do, Officer Carmichael, is change back into civilian clothes.” Cavan stood and ignored the death ray stare he could feel coming from Veo. “God, that guy’s an ass,” John muttered as he walked Cavan to the locker room. The two men talked as Cavan changed. “I’m not going to debrief you too much, I don’t want you to sound rehearsed. I want you to go back and visit your friend, Ludo. Noodle around a little, see what you can find out.” Cavan nodded. When he’d changed, he followed Masterson to the other side of the building to robbery-homicide. He was curious why they had the case and not the violent crimes unit. He asked John, who smiled. “We think Ludo would have died and that seemed to be the objective. We got a warrant to dig up Masterson’s property to see if there are any other victims.” “You think there are?” “He’s into some weird shit. He’s a bit of a player in the S/M field online.” “He told you that?” Cavan was surprised. “I heard he was being uncooperative.” “No, he didn’t tell us. We have his cell phone and email messages.” John paused. “I haven’t said anything to Veo or the others…but Masterson has been spending a shitload of money. 53
TAME
Shipments from Venezuela, one from Latvia of all places. We’re trying to figure out what the fuck he shipped here.” “And you think Ludo might know?” “I think…” John hesitated. Cavan’s body turned cold. “Oh, my God. You think he was shipped here?” John gave him an appreciative look. “You’re a chip off the old block. Listen, I wasn’t around when your mom was a homicide detective here, but there are guys who still wax lyrical about her. I hear she was one of the best.” Shit. And now she collects banana stickers. “I think you’re right, Cavan. I think your buddy Ludo may have been in one of those container ships. I know it’s crazy, but the question is, why? Why would Masterson pay a goddamn fortune to have some guy shipped here like a piece of cargo?” “If he was shipped here,” Cavan reminded him. “True. It’s pure speculation. He’s a collector…he might have shipped vases or whatever the fuck else he collects, but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” John clapped him on the shoulder. “I love a good mystery.” Outside the station, John walked him to his car, looking over his shoulder, as if to make sure they were alone. “Here’s my cell phone number and direct office line. Do not under any circumstances tell Veo anything. You are to report directly to me.” He paused, then said, “I know you’re new here, but trust me when I tell you a bigger jackass you will never find. I can’t believe he took your footage and gave it to the media.” He shook his head. “Idiot really hampered our investigation.” At his car, Cavan spoke finally. “I’m wondering…Masterson’s next door neighbor claimed he saw Ludo beating the alleged dog. 54
TAME
Have you found this beaten dog?” “No, we haven’t.” “What happened to Masterson’s dogs?” “They’re all at the West LA Animal Shelter.” “Don’t you think it’s weird the neighbor claims he saw Ludo beating a dog?” “I think the whole thing is fucking weird. Listen, any expenses you incur, keep receipts. I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.” *
*
*
Cavan gathered his thoughts as he drove over to Cedars-Sinai again. He felt like John had hustled him out of the station before he could think properly. He called the nursing staff when he was close, asking if he could visit Ludo. “Sure,” the nurse on duty said. “He’s driving us nutty, wanting food. I don’t think he’s eaten for a while. He’s hungry, but he hates everything we’re giving him.” “You’re giving him solid food already?” “Soup,” she said. Cavan pulled over and spent some time on his cell phone looking for a restaurant, any restaurant that served shrimp soup. To his surprise, a place called the Red Door on Third Street that said they made a killer shrimp soup that involved two pounds of red shrimp and a spicy clam broth. He tried not to balk at the thirteendollar price tag and found his way there. The tiny restaurant did indeed have a red door. He’d read somewhere that in years gone by, people painted their doors red to keep the devil away. He parked outside with five minutes on the meter. He ran in, impressed with the collection of wine bottles 55
TAME
tucked behind the bar, paid for the soup that came in a gigantic container with crusty, garlic-scented warm bread rolls, and drove away. At the hospital, he parked in the lot, wondering if the nurses would be upset that he was bringing soup to Ludo. He was pleased to see the media had vanished, probably because no new information had been leaked to them. He suddenly understood why he’d been removed from Veo’s clutches as quickly as he had. John Forsythe knew that Veo was a media whore. When he arrived at the nurse’s station on Ludo’s floor, the nurse on duty was working on a game of Bookworm on her iPad and never noticed him. He stole past her in case she vetoed his food offering to Ludo. It took him a few minutes to find the right room since he’d forgotten to memorize the number, but he knew he had the correct one when he saw a mess of dark curls and an expectant face looking at him through the glass center of the door. He opened it and walked inside, closing the door behind him. Ludo sat up in bed, a look of excitement on his face. “You brought me shrimp?” That unusual smile was on his face, but this time, Cavan felt completely touched by it. “Shrimp soup. Two pounds of red shrimp.” Ludo looked at him, his eyes bright. “Red shrimp in my country is called langostino. You really brought me langostino?” Cavan grinned. “I did.” Ludo took possession of the huge package. His smile spread. “It smells spicy.” For the first time, Cavan saw his even, attractive, white teeth. Cavan wheeled the portable food tray toward Ludo. “Here, you can have the bread. I don’t eat yeast.” Ludo pushed 56
TAME
the bread over to Cavan, who happily took it. Ludo lifted the foilcovered plastic lid from the soup. It did smell wonderful. “You didn’t bring me a spoon,” Ludo said, his smile huge, making the apology Cavan was about to utter die on his lips. “There is only one way to eat shrimp.” Ludo dipped two fingers into the red broth and lifted out a shrimp. It was a whole shrimp with head, eyes, antenna…the lot. He ate it whole. Cavan stared, forgetting his own hunger for a moment. “Oh…I taste clams…I taste the pepper…mmm…it has celery seed. Most important.” Ludo dipped his fingers in again, eyes closed as he sucked them. “Black pepper. Fresh. Very good.” He tilted his head to one side. “White wine. Good white wine. French, I think.” Cavan felt beads of perspiration breaking out on his upper lip and forehead. This was almost a sensual, deeply erotic experience watching this man eat. He had the insane urge to lick the soup from Ludo’s lips. “Kiss me,” Ludo suddenly said. “Excuse me?” Ludo looked at him. “I didn’t say anything. Well, I might have been talking out loud. I like my soup.” He dipped his long, artisticlooking fingers in again, retrieving another shrimp. Cavan had never seen anybody eat shrimp that way before. His mind rambled over the notion that he hadn’t heard Ludo say, “Kiss me.” He tore off some bread. “Let me try that,” Ludo said. “I think the broth might really work with that.” Cavan handed it to him. Ludo dipped it into the soup and handed it to Cavan, holding it to his lips. “Tell me what you think.” 57
TAME
Cavan swallowed the bread, Ludo’s fingers lingering on his chin for a moment. “It’s very good.” It really was. He was sorry he hadn’t bought some for himself now. “The garlic is present, light, very light.” Ludo swallowed another shrimp, his head going back and forth like a happy child’s who might have been enjoying a decadent ice cream sundae. “This is very kind of you,” Ludo said. “I hoped you would come back but I wasn’t sure once you knew about me.” Cavan didn’t know how to react to that. He had no idea what Ludo was talking about. “What specifically were you worried that I might not like?” “That I allowed that…buffoon to torture me without once fighting back.” Cavan felt dismay flooding his senses. Surely it wasn’t true about this D/s relationship. “Why didn’t you?” Ludo shrugged. “It is part of my…condition. If I’m to get better, I can’t.” “Your…condition?” Ludo gave him a shrewd look. “Masterson hasn’t said anything?” Cavan took a gamble. “He lied. He said he’s known you for years and you have a D/s relationship.” Ludo paused as he was about to eat another shrimp. “That’s disgusting and not true. He said he was saving me. Instead, he was like all the rest. No…not like the rest. He’s worse. He’s a real weirdo.” He’s not the only one. Cavan was mystified by their whole conversation. He’d been sent to get answers and only had more 58
TAME
questions. “I’m not a violent man. I could never harm another.” Ludo seemed proud of that. Cavan felt as if he were fishing in dark waters in the dead of night, not sure what he would pull up when he reeled in his line. He felt there was a significance to this statement but how to draw the man out more? “But Masterson is a violent man,” Cavan said. “The worst.” Ludo stopped eating. His eyes turned black as if pain filled his soul. “I’m sorry,” Cavan said, keeping his tone soft. “I just…I can’t understand why he would do this to another human being.” “Because I wouldn’t do what he wanted.” “He wanted to have sex with you?” Ludo shrugged. “Not necessarily. He wanted something from me that I wasn’t willing to give.” He held the soup bowl in his hands. Cavan noticed a slight tremor as Ludo drank the broth, draining it completely. “That was very good, thank you.” “But he raped you. Violently.” “To try to intimidate me. To control me. His intention was to inflict maximum pain to get what he wanted.” Ludo put the bowl back into the paper bag, peering in it as if to make sure he’d eaten everything. Cavan took a stab in the dark with his invisible fishing pole. “Did you meet him in Venezuela?” “No, I have never been to Venezuela.” He glanced up from the bag. “When you come back, will you bring me some more soup, please?” Cavan nodded. “Sure.” 59
TAME
“I am very tired now. We can talk some more when you come back.” “Did he meet you in Latvia?” Ludo cocked his head to one side. “I’ve never been there either. I had no idea he was so well traveled. I just imagined he was a hermit living on his sofa, watching old movies and trying to indulge his macabre fantasies.” Cavan stared at him but the effort of this final pronouncement did seem to exhaust the man who lay back against the pillows. “I’ll come back and bring you soup for dinner.” Tears glistened in Ludo’s eyes when he turned to gaze at Cavan. “Will you really?” “Of course.” Ludo gave him a tremulous smile. “Whatever happens, I promise you I will never hurt you.” “And I will never hurt you.” Cavan said the remark without thinking but Ludo’s hand gripped his as Cavan picked up the rubbish to take away with him. “I wish I’d met you before…” Cavan stopped. “Before?” “Before I took a swim that day,” Ludo said enigmatically and closed his eyes again. *
*
*
Back at the station, he was afraid that John Forsythe would be angry that he hadn’t learned much, but he found to his surprise the opposite was true. “That corroborates what we learned today. I don’t know why I thought Ludo might have been smuggled here, but those containers 60
TAME
were shipped to Masterson and each one contained antique cars. I have no idea where he’s stored them since he’s being uncooperative, as usual. Your friend Ludo has no fingerprints on record, which means he’s never been in trouble with law enforcement. His identity is still a mystery though. He told you he’s from Argentina. Either he dropped from the sky like I said before, or, he has that illness associated with trauma. I just spoke to his surgeon and they think it’s possibly foreign accent syndrome. It’s a condition usually associated with sedation. A patient has surgery and wakes up speaking English with a heavy, European accent.” “I’ve heard of it. It’s rare, but it’s possible.” Cavan didn’t really think so. He felt Ludo had been honest with him. Forsythe went on. “Who’s to say this poor guy wasn’t sedated at some point by Masterson? He could also have been beaten into unconsciousness. He’s telling you he’s from Argentina, but it doesn’t mean he is. It’s interesting that his video has been all over the Internet and TV, but nobody seems to recognize him and nobody’s laid claim to him.” Forsythe checked his watch. “You’d better get back into uniform for your press conference.” “Do you want me to change back again afterward?” Forsythe grimaced. “No. I guess now we know he wasn’t trafficked from overseas, our focus is on what the hell Masterson was doing with all those guns and where his truck and those antique vehicles are.” He looked so disappointed Cavan apologized. He felt as if he’d failed. “Hey, it’s not your fault. You did good work, you got more out of the guy than some seasoned professionals did.” 61
TAME
“I was wondering if you ever tracked down the restraints I checked into evidence?” Cavan asked. “Any word on that?” “Jesus, that Veo has a big mouth.” John shook his head. “We found it. It was there all along…just…well, some of the guys couldn’t help themselves and took a look at it and it was put in the wrong place. Keep that to yourself.” Cavan nodded. “Understood.” He had no choice but to return to the beat, such as it was, with no assigned partner. He changed back into his uniform, not that Veo noticed. He dominated the press conference, stepping over the mayor’s words. The story was only a day old but already losing steam. “We have no idea who the man is,” Veo said of Ludo. He repeated much of what had already been said at the hospital. Had anyone asked Cavan, he would have said the highlight of the conference was Felicity’s homemade brownies that had the word Boo! written across them in orange icing. Cavan took off right after he changed back into civilian clothes. Since robbery-homicide no longer needed him and he still had no partner, Veo told him to come back in the morning. As he walked outside, he glimpsed Mitch driving Veo off in the SUV and changed his mind about leaving. He walked back into the station. Felicity was opening up fresh bags of Halloween candy. “What do you need?” she asked, annoyance tingeing her tone. “I just have a question. What kind of cop is Mitch Berman?” “He’s not a cop. He’s a sort of…security guard.” “Security guard? Then why is he dressed like a police officer?” She put her finger to her lips, handed him a root beer barrel and accompanied him outside, walking him to his car. “He’s not officially a cop or a security guard. He’s a nice guy…got a bum deal a couple of years ago when he first joined the 62
TAME
force. He got shot when he was off duty and tried to intervene in a robbery at a grocery store. He went blind in his right eye and he’s…well…Sergeant Veo has made it possible for him to keep employment. He drives some of the senior officers around. He handles tours of the station and goes to schools and speaks to the kids about truancy and staying away from drugs. “Anyway, I hear he’s getting eye surgery in a few weeks now that Sergeant Veo approved his insurance request. They say it’s a new technique that may just work. Maybe he’ll be back on the job for real.” She squeezed his arm. “Don’t tell anyone I told you.” Cavan was so taken aback he just shook his head. Who knew that Veo had such a heart of gold he’d helped a fallen officer this way? It also explained Mitch’s shift in mood when they’d met for coffee. He'd felt awkward. That made two of them. Cavan was surprised that Mitch had no vision in one eye. He hadn’t noticed a thing. He called his mother before he got into the car. She didn’t pick up, so he left a message and let her know he was on his way home. His sister was still there when he got home and seemed relieved when she saw him. She pounced on him the moment he arrived. “Chelsea quit. Mom was really mean to her, but whatever…we have got to get her exercising, Cav. Chelsea said there’s no real reason for her not to be walking on her own. She thinks Mom likes all the sympathy and attention she gets from not being completely mobile. She said Mom needs to use it or lose it…why are you sniffing like that?” “I smell rotting…food.” “That’s weird. I thought I could smell something funky, too, but man, I clean each time I come here and I know you’ve done a 63
TAME
great job, too. I can’t tell where the smell is coming from. You said rotting food?” Cavan nodded. He and Vince had been ardent composters. His family recycled their refuse but he hadn’t been off the farm that long not to be able to identify the odor straight away. He followed his nose. His mother’s bedroom door was closed. She had a weird attitude toward anyone going into her private quarters. “Where is she?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “Watching TV and going through her banana label crap.” “Keep her busy. I want to take a look in here.” His sister nodded and, throwing him a worried look, she sped off down the hallway. He waited a moment, then turned the handle. At first he could smell lemon furniture polish. As he stood in the doorway and surveyed the room, he could see the mark of the vacuum cleaner on the carpet. And then it hit him. He didn’t blame his sister. On the surface, the room looked clean and tidy. He closed the door behind him and moved to the closet. The smell was awful when he opened the ancient credenza handed down through his mother’s family. Cavan held his breath as he looked at the contents of the closet. Food he’d purchased himself was stacked in neat rows. He opened a drawer and almost passed out. It was filled with fruit, vegetables and bags of pasta that had become infested with bugs. He slammed the drawer shut and walked to the living room. “Mom, how long have you been hoarding food?” he asked as she examined a banana label through magnified eyeglasses. “Hoarding food? What do you mean?” “What do I mean? Dina and I are going crazy filling the kitchen with food and you’re hoarding it in your room! You’ve got bug infestations.” Cavan started to lose it. “Jesus, Mom.” Tears sprang 64
TAME
to his eyes. His mother stared at him. Dina ran down the hall and Cavan fought off the despair he felt. “Can you explain it?” “No, I can’t.” His mother chewed her lip. “I don’t even know I’m doing it sometimes. Don’t put me away, Cavan. I’ll be good. I won’t do it anymore! I—I just thought if I kept some food in the bedroom…when Chelsea locks me in there, at least I can eat.” His body went rigid. “Chelsea locks you in there?” She nodded. “That’s why I put the chain on the door so she can’t get in.” Cavan heard his sister gasp. Dina stood in the doorway, sobbing. “Why didn’t you tell us?” “I didn’t think you’d believe me.” Their mother began to cry. “Why is this happening to me? I feel like everything’s so bad…and yet…for the first time in so long, I have both my children in my house.” Her hysteria mounted. “I don’t want to lose you!” They both rushed to her, holding her. She needed help, a lot of help, but he wouldn’t let Chelsea hurt their mother anymore. “Does she have the house key?” Cavan asked. The two women looked at each other. “I guess,” Dina said. Their mother lifted a trembling hand to her lips. “Oh…that means she can come back.” “She can try, but I won’t let her. I’m gonna change the locks, and I’m going to let her know she’s not welcome in this house ever again.” He cleaned up all the food she’d been hoarding, tossing out six garbage bags full of food. He cleaned and sprayed his mother’s room and when he was satisfied she could sleep in there without any bug interference, he ran to the Tru Value hardware store and bought her a new lock. 65
TAME
Now everything made sense. He understood why his mother kept the chain across the door and she had emptied her bedroom of its contents to store food. What he didn’t understand was why Chelsea would do this to somebody entrusted in her care. Back home, he fixed the lock as his sister made their mother some dinner. Dina had let her husband, Garrett, spend the afternoon and evening with his son, Max. “You should bring Max here more often,” Cavan suggested, giving her a spare copy of the new front door key. He had the other one and would get a copy made for his mother. Dina sautéed vegetables and shrimp in a wok. “Now I know what’s going on with her, I will. Cav, you think you could take him on a police ride-along sometime?” “Sure,” he said. “Let me know when and I’ll organize it.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “Will you call Chelsea?” “I thought I would, unless you want to say something. I mean, you and Garrett hired her.” “No, you call her. I also want you to file a police report.” “Done. Listen, I promised Ludo, the guy I helped rescue, that I’d take him some food to the hospital—” “No problem. I can stay with her a while. Will you be long?” “No more than a couple of hours, I promise.” He hugged his sister, feeling like something had shifted between them. She seemed softer somehow…nicer. With a hug for his mother, he phoned an order for two bowls of shrimp soup and returned to the Red Door. He was almost at the hospital, when John Forsythe called him. “I just got a call from the lab. Some of the hairs found on your uniform are wolf hairs. Can you fucking believe it?” Cavan pulled to the side of the road. “Wolf hairs?” 66
TAME
“Yeah. And the locks and the spring lancets you checked into evidence? They have a mix of animal and human blood. The lab says it’s an unusual animal.” “An unusual animal?” Cavan found himself repeating everything but he felt as if their entire conversation was surreal. “I know. They’re being re-tested.” “Is there wolf blood?” “No. Only the wolf hairs. There were a lot on your uniform. Unfortunately, Ludo was naked when he was taken to Cedars-Sinai and the rape test kit was the only forensics we were able to get. I wish he’d had something on we could test.” “What does the rape test kit show?” “We had to get a rush on that since we only have Masterson for one more day before we have to start filing charges, but the sperm sample taken from Ludo matches his.” “That’s good, right?” “Except that Ludo won’t talk. He refutes Masterson’s account. Look, maybe you can take another crack at him. Convince him to press charges. I know he was raped and we have a good case, but he seems petrified of close scrutiny. After you left him this afternoon, I sent two of my best men to him. He practically broke down at the mere suggestion of showing up in court.” “Okay, I’ll try. Is there anything else I should know?” “Well…maybe you could ask if there was a wolf on the property. This case gets stranger and stranger. Might even end up in the hands of the FBI. Masterson has quite a collection of medieval surgery and torture tools, some of them have blood stains. We may be looking at the work of a serial killer here.” Cavan’s mind raced. “Pity there’s nothing in any federal record that even comes 67
TAME
close to matching the blood type the lab found. Creepy, huh?” John asked. “Have you found any dead animals on Masterson’s property?” “No. Nothing. The mayor and Chief Beck won’t okay further funding for more digging. I’d like to look under that new shed Masterson built, but it’s still an active crime scene. I won’t be able to dig underneath it for weeks, probably.” Cavan didn’t know what to say, but John filled the void. “We certainly haven’t found anything like the maned wolf that came up as the closest match in the lab work analysis.” “Maned wolf?” What the hell was a maned wolf? “I know, weird, huh? Don’t s’pose you have one around your house, do you?” “No, I don’t.” John chuckled and they ended the call. In his car, Cavan used his cell phone to Google maned wolves. They were an unusual wolf type, typically found…in Argentina. Maybe it wasn’t so weird. Ludo said he was from that country. Maybe he’d backpacked or something and there’d been transference of trace evidence. Transference? From where? Ludo had been naked inside a newly installed shed. Cavan wondered if maybe John was right and the shed had been erected over a graveyard…but wait. If maned wolves weren’t to be found in California, how the heck did one get into Masterson’s backyard?
68
TAME
CHAPTER 5 He didn’t see Ludo when he knocked on the man’s door. He let himself in, concerned at first until he heard the shower running. Cavan was surprised. Twenty-four hours ago, the guy had been so frail he could hardly lift his head off the pillow and his hand shook with the effort of any activity. Cavan noticed the bathroom door ajar as he put their bowls on the portable tray now pushed against the wall. Ludo stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and…fuck…so hot. Cavan shocked himself with such indecent thoughts. Was it wrong to look at a man who’d been so recently brutalized and be turned on by him? He decided looking was fine. And how could he not look? Ludo’s body looked amazing as he towel dried his luxurious black 69
TAME
hair and then his body. His body. Ludo’s back faced Cavan, who could see the ugly cut marks all over the man’s neck, back and buttocks. A couple of deep slices ran down his thigh and to his right ankle. But still…in just over a day they seemed remarkably…healed. He turned and Cavan glimpsed the gorgeous cock dangling between Ludo’s thighs. He was uncut. Oh God…he’d always had fantasies about sucking an uncut cock. Ludo’s eyes remained closed as he ran the white towel around his body. Cavan, afraid of being caught spying, made some noise as he opened their packages. “Hey,” Ludo suddenly said, opening the bathroom door. He looked very well, much better than their visit earlier in the day. Cavan grinned at him. “I brought soup for both of us.” Ludo seemed pleased. “Can you hand me that hospital gown, please?” Cavan looked to where Ludo pointed and picked up the clean, folded blue gown. He took it to Ludo, who tossed his towel onto the bathroom sink. He smelled fresh, masculine. Cavan struggled not to stare at that beautiful cock. Hard up for manly contact, he immediately thought about some of the models and gay porn stars he’d ogled recently. Ludo outshone them all. He didn’t seem uncomfortable standing naked next to him. He turned around and asked Cavan to do up the three sets of ties in back of his gown. “It’s such a look, isn’t it?” Ludo joked. “I think this half-naked ass flapping in the breeze is very attractive. Don’t you?” Fuck, yes. “Well, you’ve got a nice body. Ludo, you heal so fast. Those injuries looked horrible two days ago.” 70
TAME
“Thanks!” Ludo jumped into bed and arranged his bedding, sitting up with the expectant look of a child, his hair clean and wet, hanging in gorgeous tendrils. Christ, he was a hot man. “My family…we’re all quick healers.” Ludo reached for the tray and winced with the effort. “I still get twinges. The doc said I will…for a while.” “Can I get you anything?” “Yes. Please sit and eat with me. I’m glad to see you. I worried you might forget me.” “How could I forget you?” Ludo gave him a sweet smile. “You have a lot on your mind. Want to tell me about it?” Cavan was surprised. “What makes you say that?” “I can tell. Problems at work or home?” Ludo opened his soup bowl. “This smells even better than the soup you brought for lunch.” “Good, I’m glad.” “Sit in the brown chair,” Ludo commanded. “It’s comfortable.” “How do you know? Have you tried it?” “Yes, mister bossy pants.” Cavan laughed. “Bossy pants?” “Yes. Now…stop being the detective and tell me what’s going on.” “Ludo…my worries are nothing compared to yours. I feel—I feel like after what you went through, mine are nothing.” “It’s all relative. Is it home?” “Yeah.” “Boyfriend?” “No.” So Ludo knew he was gay. “I don’t have one.” Ludo was munching his way through his soup. Cavan hadn’t 71
TAME
even begun. “That makes two of us,” Ludo said. “So, what is the problem?” Cavan found himself telling Ludo about his mom, about Vince and the farm…and Chelsea and his mother’s food hoarding. Ludo was a damned good listener. “You changed the locks?” Cavan nodded. He’d peeled and eaten two shrimp but the broth was too spicy for him. “Want me to finish it?” Ludo’s eyes lit up. “Sure.” Cavan let him eat the soup and felt better for having bared his soul. “So you’re looking for a new therapist for her now?” “Actually, I think I need someone to stay with her. She really shouldn’t be on her own, but I don’t think we can afford a nurse.” “Someone who is company, a protector, who can cook and bully her into exercising.” Ludo grinned as he said this. “Yes. What about you? Where is your mother?” “In Argentina.” “So you really are from Argentina?” Ludo frowned. “Of course. I didn’t lie to you.” Things had been so nice, Cavan didn’t want to pry, although he had a million questions. “My mother is not like yours. She didn’t like my…condition.” Cavan got the feeling Ludo’s condition was his homosexuality. “Your mother was a senior detective. A celebrated officer.” “How do you know that?” “Our stories are forever entwined. They talk of us on the news.” Ludo peeled a shrimp and fed it to Cavan. Everything the man did seemed so seductive. Ludo ate the shell. Cavan still couldn’t get over it. 72
TAME
“Oh…the news. Right. I am so sorry that footage got leaked.” “I’m not. I feel…I feel everything happens for a reason.” “Have you been in Los Angeles long?” Cavan had a wild desire to know everything about the man. “No. Not long. I was in New York for a while.” “You had a bad relationship?” Ludo grimaced. “Yes. And Luke Masterson offered to help me. Instead he…you know…” Pain swamped his features. Cavan had more questions but Ludo glanced at the wall clock. “Cavan, it’s almost eight. They will come and ask you to leave. I don’t want you to go. I could talk to you all night.” Cavan shrugged. “I feel the same way.” “Will you come back and kiss me?” Cavan stared. Ludo blushed. “I mean, visit me?” “Yes, tomorrow.” So Ludo had asked for a kiss earlier in the day. It hadn’t been his imagination. He couldn’t help the slow smile spreading across his face. Or the growing attraction he felt for the man. “May I ask for something different this time?” “Instead of a kiss?” Ludo’s smile was so sweet Cavan’s cock wedged hard in his pants. “Well, I still want one of those. I’d like to kiss you, but I’m also very hungry.” “You want something now?” “Only the kiss. I’m hungry for that.” “Sure,” Cavan said. “I am dying for chicken and sliced tomatoes. I normally don’t eat bread but since you brought some today I am now craving a sandwich.” 73
TAME
“A chicken and tomato sandwich? I can do that.” Cavan stood and collected their refuse. “Don’t forget my kiss.” Ludo’s voice was soft, his hand tentative as he reached for Cavan. “Please?” Time stood still as Cavan bent down to him. Their mouths met in a moment of swift, but blissful heat. The kiss might have gone on. Cavan felt the powerful surge between them. Ludo pulled back. “Wow,” he said, reclining against his pillows. Cavan nodded. His whole body shook. He hadn’t felt quite like this since…he’d first met Vince. He held the empty food bag in front of him. Man. A boner! After just a closed-mouth kiss! “I’ll come by as soon as I can tomorrow,” he said, but the soft sounds of even breathing told him that Ludo was already asleep. *
*
*
Cavan stopped by the Russian supermarket on the corner of Spaulding and bought his mother some organic bananas. They had stickers on them and he hoped they were new ones for her. He cruised slowly down the streets of his neighborhood. It would be Halloween tomorrow and he looked forward to trick-or-treating with all the little ghosts and goblins who came to the house. If he didn’t have to work late. He returned home and found his mother and sister watching House Hunters and screaming at the couple’s choice in a home. “Honestly…why spend eight hundred thousand dollars on a fixer-upper?” his mom asked. “I know, right?” Dina stood and yawned. “Organic bananas!” Mom snatched the bag from Cavan’s hand. Dina hugged him and he walked her out to the car. 74
TAME
“I am glad you’re here,” she said. “I know you gave up a lot moving back here. I think we're all ecstatic that you did. You miss Klamath Falls?” He shrugged. “Not really.” “I hope you meet somebody down here.” Ludo’s lovely face shot through his mind. “So do I, sis.” He watched her drive away, then walked inside the house. “These bananas are from Costa Rica,” his mother said. She looked overawed. “Look at this blue sticker with the white pattern. I’ve never seen this one before.” He sat beside her and his cell phone rang. A text. It was Veo. He’d be driving with a new partner in the morning. A guy called Perrin. He returned the text. He felt restless. “Are you okay?” his mother asked. “I’m fine, Mom.” He just wanted to go to bed. He was beyond tired, so much so that even when he felt the faint stirrings of an erection he was too emotionally spent to think about pleasuring himself. He wrestled with images in his mind, trying to empty his thoughts so he could sleep. Ludo’s face was right there, no matter what he did. The man’s rare and special smile did things to him. Oh, God, just thinking about those long fingers…that face…he could picture Ludo feeding him, tasting each and every ingredient the way he did. He felt himself relaxing, his body in a state of pleasant surrender. And then he was aware of another body next to his. “Relax,” Ludo said. “This will make us both feel very good.” Though he was aware of being asleep, Cavan felt fully awake. The moon shone through the windows. He’d forgotten to draw the blinds he’d been so tired. Moonlight was perfect. The handsome, smiling face gazing into his was perfect. 75
TAME
“Ludo?” “Shh…” The man kissed his ear, trailing kisses down the side of Cavan’s face, along his jaw line and moved down his body. He came back to Cavan’s mouth and kissed him, moving away before Cavan could make it an open-mouthed kiss. Cavan was so disappointed. In his sex fantasy, shouldn’t he get what he craved? His body twisted at Ludo’s gentle but insistent touch. Cavan silently pleaded for the man to reach his cock and just lick it. Oh, please, oh please. Ludo moved between Cavan’s legs as they opened up to him. Cavan gazed down and saw the biggest cock he’d ever seen in his life. It had looked huge when he’d glimpsed him earlier, but erect, it was enormous. Cavan felt the long fingertips sliding down his body, teasing his nerves into a state of anticipation. Ludo’s mouth opened and engulfed Cavan’s cock. Cavan cried out. And then, Ludo released him. Before he could protest, Ludo moved up Cavan’s body, holding his rigid cock to the side so he could lick up the line of his treasure trail. Cavan almost swooned. And then…Ludo did an unusual thing. He licked back down, using the underside of his tongue. Cavan watched through halfclosed eyes, astonished. Ludo seemed to have bristles under the tongue. It was a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. When Ludo moved back to Cavan’s cock and swallowed it, a look of feral pleasure on his face, Cavan came almost immediately. It had been so long, he could feel his heartbeat pounding furiously in his head. It swamped everything, even the expert way Ludo’s mouth worked his cock to bring him even more pleasure. “Turn over,” Ludo said, when he’d finished licking Cavan clean. 76
TAME
Cavan turned and felt the other man’s face pressing into his ass cheeks. The bristled tongue worked magic on his asshole. Cavan knelt, hands and knees trembling as that magnificent tongue swirled in all the right ways. He was surprised when Ludo began to mount him. Surprised because he seemed so hairy and Cavan needed no lube. In his sex fantasy they didn’t use rubbers, either. Ludo took his time working his way into Cavan, kissing and licking his back and shoulders, using the smooth side and rough side alternately. Cavan had never met anyone with a bristled tongue before. It sure turned him on something fierce. He came before Ludo was even fully inside him. A couple of thrusts against his prostate and Cavan went nuts. He came so hard, he couldn’t speak, but he turned to tell the man who had such command of his body not to stop. To his shock, it wasn’t Ludo fucking him but a great, big, giant, blue-black wolf. The creature had Ludo’s eyes. For some reason, it turned him on even more. “Don’t stop fucking me,” Cavan said, his whole body waiting for the fucking he knew he needed. The wolf opened his mouth and roared. It wasn’t a violent roar. It was a passionate roar, like a dog mating. His paws landed on Cavan’s hips and he began to fuck him. Hard. Cavan loved it when Ludo erupted inside him. He turned Cavan over and licked his cock again, only now he was a man, he was Ludo. Beautiful, sexy Ludo. “You weren’t scared,” Ludo said, suddenly, his lips crowning Cavan’s cock. “Oh, no.” “Then why didn’t you come when I was inside you?” “I did. As soon as you were in me.” 77
TAME
“Not good enough.” Ludo bent his head and sucked Cavan again. Just as he got close to coming, Ludo took his mouth away. “Open your legs,” Ludo commanded, his huge, thick cock ready for action. He plowed right into Cavan, who watched the man above him changing back into a wolf. He’d never had such a detailed sex dream, but as his legs tightened around the muscular, hairy thighs working so hard to pleasure him, his cock exploded, shards of white fire seeming to fuse behind his eyes. “Much better,” Ludo said and licked Cavan’s lips. His fur was soft and luxurious. It smelled wonderful. He couldn’t identify the smell but it was masculine and oddly…clean. The dream went on and on, Ludo pleasuring him nonstop. Cavan had never had such a realistic, hot and sweaty dream, and he had never come so many times in a single night. When his alarm went off in the morning, he could have convinced himself it was all a dream except that it was so real and…he was covered in sweat. He was totally and in every way spent. When he turned over on his bed, there were black hairs that didn’t belong to him. He knew he was being ridiculous. Of course it was a dream. He ignored the hairs and threw on sweats. He walked through the house. The chain was across the door, his mom asleep in her chair. She’d nodded off with the TV still on. On the TV, CNN news had dropped the report on Ludo and was now focused on an eleven-year-old boy whose father had abandoned him and their home when their property went into foreclosure. The father had vanished without a trace. Geez…what was wrong with people? He took a shower, hesitating when he reached his hand around and touched his tender ass. Wow. It was wet. In his wild fantasy, 78
TAME
he’d been fucked all right. He lifted his fingers to his nose. The unmistakable smell of semen. He knew his own scent, and this wasn’t his. He shook his head and soaped himself vigorously. He kept remembering the wild, erotic dream. Yes. It was a dream. Nothing more. Ludo. He was from Argentina. Argentine mane wolf hairs had been found on Cavan’s uniform. No. It was nonsense. What was he thinking? That the guy was some kind of…werewolf? It was ridiculous. The stuff of dreams. Hot dreams. Wait. He’d eaten the unusually hot and spicy shrimp soup…not much of it but enough to affect the scent of his semen. Food did that to a man. That was it. He’d jerked off all night and shoved his fingers into himself. That was it. Yeah. That was it. Cavan dried himself off and got ready for work. He made coffee and scrambled eggs, pleased when his mother came in with her walking stick and joined him. He toasted a couple of pieces of bread and they ate, each enjoying the other’s chatty mood, once he’d cleared her boxes off the chairs. “I’m putting these back in your room when I get home from work. Okay?” She nodded. “Are you going to visit your friend in the hospital?” “Yes, I want to. He seems…lonely, and it’s a shame. He’s such a nice man. The good news is he’s getting a lot better.” “I heard that on the news. They say he’s very private but apparently he owns an antique store in New York and Masterson abducted him.” “Where’d you hear that?” “CNN. Well…he didn’t own the store, his boyfriend does and 79
TAME
the boyfriend says Masterson abducted Ludo. He wants to see Ludo, but Ludo won’t see him.” “He tells me his ex was abusive.” His mother looked at him. It had been so long since he’d seen that expression on her face, that passionate inquisitiveness, he wanted to prolong the conversation. “That explains a lot. He said he hadn’t been here long.” Cavan felt a strong protectiveness toward the man. “He says he wants a chicken and tomato sandwich. Yesterday it was shrimp. I’ll go take him a sandwich for lunch.” His mother studied him a moment. “That seems like a simple request. You like him, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. “Very much. Listen, I have no idea how late I’ll be, this being Halloween and all, but can I ask you not to open the door to any trick-or-treaters until I get home?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Cavan. It’s my one night of the year I get to dress up like a banana and pass out candy.” “Silly me.” He reached across the table and ruffled her hair. *
*
*
His new partner seemed like a nice guy and as soon as Cavan changed into uniform, the entire squad met in the situation room for a debriefing. The watch commander informed them that this was the one day of the year that law enforcement hated. “We need to get out there and chase up every registered sex offender. We need to make sure they have no decorations outside their homes luring children onto their properties. We’ll make sure there are no signs advertising for 80
TAME
trick-or-treaters, no candy in baskets.” Cavan felt a wave of sadness. Halloween had been such a joy as a kid. Not anymore. “We’re going to split up into teams. We have thirty-eight serious risk offenders in Westwood, twenty-eight in Brentwood, three in Benedict Hills, two in Benedict Canyon, fourteen serious risk sex offenders in Westwood.” He paused. “We also have two very high risk offenders in Pacific Palisades. We’ll start with those. Reconvene in two hours for further instructions.” The teams split up into six groups and hit their designated neighborhoods. When he studied the demographics, Pacific Palisades had just two high risk offenders as opposed to Long Beach, which had eight, but as far as Cavan was concerned, even one possible offender was one too many. He and Perrin covered seven properties and cautioned one man who had a fake skeleton on his door. “I ain’t done nothin’,” he sneered. “I ain’t no sex offender. Jeezus.” “Sir,” Cavan said, “You’re a registered sex offender—” “Not me. My roommate.” The man ripped down the ugly plastic decoration and slammed the door. They pretended to leave the property, but hid behind a flowering jacaranda tree that obscured the house from the street. When the man thought the coast was clear, he opened his door again and put the skeleton back up. Perrin gave him a warning and the man was moved to the top of the recheck list. They also got numerous calls dealing with cat owners hysterical over their pets being tortured and, in one case, killed. Black cats and Halloween…Cavan thought about the black hairs on his bed and wondered where they’d come from. At one, he 81
TAME
broke away, went to a Subway sandwich shop and bought Ludo his sandwich. It wasn’t gourmet fare, but the best he could do with only an hour to spare. At the hospital, Ludo had company. “Hi, darling,” Cavan’s mother said. She looked happier than Cavan had seen her. “I had to come and meet your new friend, sweetie. And he is adorable.” She pushed her wheelchair a little closer to Ludo, whose hand moved to her shoulder and squeezed it in an appreciative way. Oh, boy they were already friends. She had brought a feast from Greenblatt’s Deli on Sunset. How in the world had she gotten here? His sister came out of Ludo’s bathroom, a bunch of toiletries in hand. Ah, that explained things. Dina had driven her here. She was making herself at home packing the few homey elements in the sterile hospital room, but Ludo seemed happy enough for the company. “It’s all settled,” Dina said. “Ludo’s coming to stay with you and Mom.” Cavan didn’t respond at first. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t sound offensive. The man was recovering from severe trauma. Was he really up to a life with banana labels? On the other hand…Mom was a former cop. Maybe they’d be good for each other. A moment of awkwardness evaporated when Ludo noticed the packages Cavan was carrying. “What’s that you’ve got there?” Ludo asked, the smile back in his eyes. “A sandwich. Not a very good one. Greenblatt's is the bomb.” “Subway? You got him a Subway? Honestly,” his mother said. 82
TAME
“I’ve never tried a Subway.” Ludo held out his hand for it. Cavan had chosen the flatbread option and Ludo seemed to like it. At least, he was kind enough to pretend to. “Can you believe the hospital is discharging him today?” Dina asked. “That’s impossible.” Cavan glanced at Ludo. “You’re not ready.” “According to the doctor on staff he is.” His mother thumped her chair arm. “And it’s wrong. Just because he has a speedy metabolism and is doing much better, he still needs care.” “Of course he does, but—” “Good,” Dina said. “Because this solves all our problems. Ludo needs a safe place to stay. His boyfriend—sorry, ex-boyfriend’s already been to the hospital twice trying to see him, and the media keeps trying to get photos of him—” “Really?” How come Cavan didn’t know about this? “When that man,” his mother spat the words, “offered to get him away from New York, he took all of Ludo’s possessions. He stole his clothes, his wallet…he doesn’t even have clothes to put on his back!” “Everything was in his truck when we drove across country.” Ludo’s cheeks flamed. “If you don’t want me to stay with you…I’ll understand.” Cavan stared at him. “No…I think…under the circumstances it’s a great idea.” “See, I told you,” his mother told Ludo, who smiled up at him. “What about clothes? You brought up a good point, Mom.” “The hospital has spare clothing, things people have left behind. They’re going to give him a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt and some flip-flops.” 83
TAME
“You can use anything of mine that you want,” he told Ludo. Ludo's gaze seemed to sear right through him. Cavan felt the sweat tickling the back of his neck while remembering his crazy dream. “Thank you.” The smile had returned in Ludo’s eyes. “There’s just one thing…you’re still a crime victim. You were subjected to unimaginable brutality. Since people are hounding you, I don’t want anyone in this room telling anybody where Ludo is.” He fixed his gaze on his mother and sister. “Not even my husband?” Dina asked, wide-eyed. “Of course, sweetie. But if Ludo’s ex is sniffing around, we have to protect him. We have to keep him safe.” “I’m no shrinking violet. I want to help you as much as you’re helping me. I looked after my mother when she was sick…and she’s back in Argentina. I miss her. I’d love to help you look after Tammie. And I can cook, too. I mean”—he held up his half eaten sandwich—“I know how to murder a piece of flatbread, too.” The women laughed and Cavan smiled. He did oddly trust Ludo and, well…this could be the solution for all of them. “Listen, I haven’t had a chance to get the new front door key cut.” “I have the other copy,” Dina said. “On our way home, I’ll get new copies made.” “And we’ll be up waiting for you,” Mom said. “Any special requests for dinner?” He stared at her. “You’re going to make me dinner?” “No, I am.” Ludo grinned at her. “I’ll cook for both of you.” His mother smiled like a serene cat in the sun. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” Dina asked. “Are you all trying to get rid of me?” “I’m not,” Ludo said. The look in his eyes made Cavan’s cock 84
TAME
twitch in his pants. “He knows all about my collection,” his mother said, a strong note of pride in her voice. “His mom is a collector, too.” “Oh, Buddha.” Cavan glanced at him. “What does she collect? She can’t possibly have a nuttier collection than Mom.” “Ha ha.” His mother poked her tongue out at him. “She collects dirt.” “Last time I checked, she had two thousand vials from all over the world.” “Congratulations, Ludo, you win.” Cavan returned to the office, not sure how he felt about having Ludo in his home, then decided that, for now, it gave the man a chance to recuperate in a safe environment without scrutiny. He thought for a moment as he pulled into the station parking lot. He took out his cell phone and called Chelsea, the physical therapist. He left her a message saying he wanted to talk to her about his mother. He left his number, walked into the station, and filed an elder abuse report. He was just completing it when his cell phone rang. He was stunned to see it was Vince. “How’d you get this number?” he asked without even bothering to utter a greeting. “Hi to you, too.” Vince chuckled. Man, how had Cavan never noticed how contrived it was when Vince did that. On her computer screen, Felicity watched a news bulletin, pretending not to listen to his call. “What do you want, Vince?” “I saw you on TV. Man, that was some rescue. I always thought you were kind of a geek.” “Gee, thanks.” “No, I mean it in the nicest way. You’re a lovable guy.” 85
TAME
Vince blathered on about wanting to see him. Cavan had no desire to rekindle that spent match. He was staring at Felicity’s screen. She was aware of his gaze and turned to look at him. “What?” she asked, frowning at him. “That man.” “Yeah,” Vince said in his ear. “What about that man? Ludo, right? What’s he like? Have you been to see him?” “I gotta go.” He ended the call and pocketed his cell phone. “What is it?” Felicity asked. “That man…I saw him on TV this morning…the guy who abandoned his kid in his foreclosed home.” “Yeah. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. He’s left a trail of debts and they think he might have killed himself.” Cavan shook his head. “Hell no, he didn’t. I didn’t recognize him at first. He looks much better in this picture. This asshole is alive and well and holing up with a convicted pedophile in Brentwood. Perrin and I spoke to him this morning.”
86
TAME
CHAPTER 6 For the second time in a week, Cavan came off as a hero for the West Los Angeles Police Division. He and Perrin received commendations from Chief Beck and when he went home for dinner after patrolling the neighborhood for Halloween, he saw his mother was still dressed as a banana. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, hugging him. Ludo stood by in a pair of Cavan’s jeans. “Can I hug you, too?” Their embrace held more weight and more unspoken desire than any Cavan could remember. “We passed out six huge bowls of candy,” Mom said, having difficulty sitting on a chair in her banana costume. “Guess I should go change. Don’t start dinner without me. I’m on seconds, or is it thirds?” 87
TAME
She seemed reluctant to leave, but as soon as she hustled out with her walking stick, one glance between him and Ludo was all it took. They were all over each other. They kissed, Ludo’s mouth opening. Cavan licked and sucked and got plenty back himself…but there were no bristles. Of course there weren’t. It had been a dream. Their frenzied lip-lock broke off as they heard Cavan’s mother clomping back down the hallway in her pajamas. Ludo looked flustered as he plated their meal. “I hope you like chicken and tomatoes. I still have a craving for them,” he said over his shoulder. Cavan was starving. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper meal. The food was fragrant, the chicken tender and juicy. He’d never tasted anything like it. “Isn’t it fabulous?” His mother’s eyes shone. Ludo poured them each a glass of red wine. Cavan was speechless. It was a nice way to come home. “There’s something we should tell you,” his mom said, glancing at Ludo. “I called the DA’s office. I still have friends there. I found out who’s handling Ludo’s case. Well, the prosecution of Luke Masterson. His name is Jack Benz and he seems very nice. I told him Ludo is staying with me. I left you out of it completely. I don’t want to compromise your professional position.” “Thanks, Mom. Is he okay with it?” “Yes. They want to make sure Ludo will testify. I guaranteed he would.” She paused. “And we’ll be with him every step of the way.” “Of course.” “Thank you, both of you,” Ludo said. He picked up his wine 88
TAME
glass, his expression emotional. “He has to appear before the grand jury in two weeks. Of course, before then he’ll need to meet with the assistant DA handling the case to prepare his testimony, but that won’t be a problem. In the meantime, they’re willing to keep his location a secret. “They want to move this case along. Masterson has so many charges pending he’ll fold like a pack of cards, I’m sure. In the meantime, he’s being held without bail because of the nature of his crime and because,” she smiled, “he can’t post a bond. He’s cashstrapped and it doesn’t look like anyone’s willing to help him.” “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Cavan said, raising his glass. “I couldn’t have met two kinder people,” Ludo said. “Thank you again. Your acceptance of me…means so much.” “Our home is your home,” Cavan said. “Tell me, do you also make desserts?” *
*
*
Long after he’d had three helpings of chicken and tomatoes and two wedges of homemade pecan pie, Cavan lay naked on his bed, hand on his cock. He willed the beautiful dream from the night before to return, but it didn’t. In spite of all the jerking off he’d done the night before, he was hornier than hell. If he concentrated on Ludo’s face— A soft knock at the door interrupted his fantasies. “Cavan?” Thank God it was Ludo. “Come in.” He made a show of throwing his sheet over his body but as Ludo came in, closing the door behind him, he could see the hard cock wedged into the jeans Ludo wore so much better than he ever could. They exchanged no 89
TAME
words as he sat up, his cock springing to happy attention as Ludo came and stood at the side of his bed. Cavan looked up at the man who looked like a leonine god in the moonlight. He saw the smile that was just for him and rubbed his face against the front of Ludo’s jeans. Ludo threaded his hands in his hair, holding him against his body. Cavan undid the buttons on the fly of the jeans and was ecstatic to find Ludo was commando. The cock he’d coveted bounced against his hungry lips. The head poked through the foreskin. “I want to suck you the way you like. Tell me what you like.” Ludo’s face twisted with emotion. “You know what I like. I know you won’t hurt me.” Hell no, he wouldn’t hurt him. He closed his mouth around the half-sheathed head. It felt and tasted completely different to a cut cock. It felt fuller, more luscious. He used his tongue to push the foreskin back, rewarded with an ecstatic, “Yes!” He slid Ludo’s jeans all the way down. He pulled the man onto the bed beside him. In his dream, Ludo had done all the work, now he wanted to do it. Another hot exchange of kisses and before they could get too deep, Cavan claimed Ludo’s cock again. He swallowed it whole, enjoying the heft of it against the back of his throat. He’d never serviced such a massive tool and couldn’t wait. Ludo came fast, his body spasming. “Do it again,” he whispered. It was just as sweet, just as intense the second time, Ludo’s hand fluttering down to Cavan’s ass, stroking the crack. His fingers somehow reached Cavan’s hole, a finger stroking him determinedly, stoking a crazy-hot fire in him. Unbelievably he came against his own leg as Ludo shot deep into his mouth. They lay happily entwined in one another’s arms. “Do you 90
TAME
want me to close the moonlight?” Cavan asked before they fell asleep. “I mean…do you want me to close the blinds?” “No. I just want you to hold me.” And he did. Very early the next morning, Ludo returned to his room, against Cavan’s wishes. “Do you regret what we did?” he asked Ludo, who pulled his jeans up over his legs and his now hard cock. “Of course not.” Ludo’s whispered voice ignited embers deep within him. “Out of respect for your mother…I think I should.” Over the coming days, it was always like this. The frenzied, passionate lovemaking, bringing each other pleasure with their mouths. They didn’t fuck, but Cavan realized the man was still healing. They always wound up these intense sessions sleeping, wrapped around one another. Each morning around sunrise, he left Cavan’s room. Day by day their bond grew stronger. Going to work was hell. Cavan hated the separations, and so did Ludo. The day he had to meet with the DA’s office, he cried in Cavan’s arms, scared of what the future held. Cavan wanted to take the day off to be with him but Veo wouldn’t give him permission for a personal day. That night, after numerous calls between them, Ludo seemed fine. Dina had driven Ludo and her mom to the DA’s office. When he made his appearance before the grand jury, none of them could be in the room, but Ludo said if they were outside the courtroom waiting for him, he could get through it. Cavan promised they would all be there. Two weeks later, Veo gave him permission to take a personal day and they went to the courthouse. Ludo looked handsome in the new suit Cavan had bought for him. Until the grand jury session 91
TAME
was over, Cavan wanted him to keep a low profile. He didn’t want Ludo to worry about money, identification…nothing. It was grueling to accompany him, knowing the man would have to recount his torment to a room full of strangers. He and his mother sat, holding hands, staring at the closed doors. When Ludo emerged, looking red-eyed, Cavan’s heart gave a lurch. “I did it,” Ludo said, throwing himself into their waiting arms. “I told them my truth.” They drove home, awaiting the grand jury results. The Internet and TV were full of the news as they walked in the door—the twenty-three member grand jury had unanimously voted to proceed with the case. “I don’t know whether to be happy or sad,” Ludo said. “I just want this to be over.” He seemed frightened, but Cavan was determined to protect him. As they prepared their evening meal, Dina and her family arrived. Max, Dina’s stepson, adored Ludo and ran straight to him, hugging him. They’d met a few times and the way they hit it off encouraged and delighted the family. “I made you a present,” he said, surprising everyone. He reached into his school backpack and produced a plate with a hand-drawn wolf. “That is beautiful,” Ludo said, hugging him again. “You remind me of a wolf. I like wolves,” Max said. Ludo nodded emphatically. “So do I.” “Do I get a hug?” Cavan asked his nephew. Max gave him an impish grin. “Yes, but you don’t get a plate.” Everybody laughed. In his pocket, Cavan’s cell phone rang. He checked the readout. Vince. What did he want now? 92
TAME
He took the call and stepped into the backyard to talk to him. “I know you’ve got him.” Vince’s voice was serious. “Excuse me?” “Ludo. I know he’s with you. How much do you want for him?” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “You’re harboring him. I know. I’ve driven past your house and seen him. He’s worth a fortune on the black market, Cavan.” Black market? What the hell was Vince raving about? “I’ll split the bounty with you.” “Bounty? What are you smoking?” Vince gave a harsh laugh. It wasn’t his seductive, practiced laugh. “Come on, dude. Don’t tell me you don’t know.” “I don’t know what you’r—” “He’s a werewolf, dude. You’re harboring a one-hundred percent freak of nature!” Cavan didn’t respond. He ended the call. Holy shit. Could it even be true? Did such a thing exist? He went back inside and watched Ludo interacting with his family. “I gotta do a little work,” he said, poking his head into the kitchen. He felt ridiculous when he went into his bedroom and fired up his laptop. He looked up werewolves and, to his astonishment, saw that there were many similarities between them and Ludo. They had hairs sprouting from open wounds. Check. Bristles under the tongue. Well, no. Only in his sex dream. He Googled maned wolves and saw that their favorite food in the wild was chicken and tomatoes. It was…shit. It was a 93
TAME
coincidence. Werewolves were a fantasy. Shit. Weren’t they? Cavan was quiet over dinner, aware of Ludo’s worried gaze. Alone in his bedroom that night with the man, he finally broached the subject. “Are you a werewolf?” he asked, realizing how crazy he sounded. He might be about to lose the best man he’d ever met. What he hadn’t been prepared for was the single word response… “Yes.” “What did you say?” “You heard me.” “How? How? When?” Cavan paced the room. Ludo sat on the bed, looking miserable. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to tell you.” Tears flew down his face. “I was so scared of losing you. That’s why I leave our bed. At sunrise, only at certain times of the lunar calendar, I turn. I become the wolf. In the hospital…you have no idea. I had to hide in the bathroom until I turned back again. I hid in a storeroom once. Cavan, I don’t want to lose you,” he said again. “How did it happen?” “I took a swim one day.” Ludo looked woebegone. “Wait…you mentioned this swim in the hospital.” Ludo nodded. “It was a prank. A stupid prank. It was several years ago. There’s a lake in Argentina. People said that if you hung your clothes on a certain ash tree and swam across the lake, you would turn into a wolf. Only two of us tried it. We thought nothing happened…but it did. We turned into werewolves the next full moon. It’s been hell. Until I met you.” Cavan couldn’t believe his ears. “So…you’re like this…forever?” 94
TAME
“Oh, no. It’s a curse. One that’s easily remedied. On the condition that I don’t attack a single human being for nine years, I am free to swim back across the lake to regain my full human form.” “When are the nine years up?” “In two years.” “So your mother knows you’re a wolf. That’s the condition she hates.” Ludo shook his head. “No. She loves the wolf. He’s made her money. She sold me to a businessman who took me to New York and made me his sex slave. As a wolf I haven’t known kindness until I met you.” Cavan didn’t know what to say. He had so many questions. Ludo was ashamed of the things that had been done to him. “The story that I can never tell a court…or another living soul, is that Luke Masterson beat, rape and tortured me because I refused to bite him. I wouldn’t turn him. I can’t. Not now that I’m so close to this nightmare being over.” Cavan dropped down to his knees, reaching for him, and held him. “God help me, I love you. I can’t give you up.” “Oh God, I love you, too!” They began to kiss, falling to the floor. “You were in my room, weren’t you? Fucking me in your wolf form?” Ludo stared up at him, his eyes swimming with tears. “Only in my dreams. You mean…you had it, too?” “Yes. I could have sworn you were here. You left hairs. I want to see you in wolf form.” “Hold me long enough and you will.” 95
TAME
“I won’t leave you, but Jesus, Ludo, how do I keep you safe from these assholes who want to hurt you?” Ludo shook his head, looking up at the moonlit sky. “I don’t know.” “We can go away. I know…I have a farm in Oregon. I can keep you safe and—” “No. I’ve been running too long.” “I won’t let anybody hurt you anymore.” Cavan clamped a kiss on the man’s lips. Ludo kissed him back, but there was no lovemaking that night. Cavan had questions and Ludo answered them. They fell asleep on the floor, getting back on the bed, atop the covers. Cavan plotted and worried. How would he keep Vince and any other selfappointed bounty hunter away from Ludo? He would find a way. Around dawn, Ludo stirred in his arms. He wept hot tears when Cavan wouldn’t let him leave. “I want to see my wolf,” he said, unprepared for the pain Ludo seemed to go through as his limbs and face elongated. He let out a cry as his teeth changed, as his eyes grew yellow and glowing. “Fuck, I love my wolf,” Cavan breathed. “You…love me?” Ludo’s big, hairy paws touched his body, his tongue protruding from his massive mouth. His face dropped down and he licked Cavan’s cock. Holy shit! He was getting head from a wolf. Ludo howled. Cavan worried it would awaken his mother but he was too far gone to stop. Ludo suckled him, the sensation of the bristled tongue and the big teeth trying not to scrape his sensitive skin, too much. He came, his liquid fire splashing his lover’s face and chest. The grunting sound Ludo made turned him on. His cock…his 96
TAME
beautiful, fleshy cock, even bigger than when he was in human form jutted at his open thighs. He longed for that wolf cock in him, the burst of pain followed by acres of pleasure as Ludo fucked him the way he had in the dream. His legs closed around the muscular, hairy thighs rippling in their effort to bring him such deep bliss. He held on tight to the big body rutting into him. As he came, hard and fast between their bodies, Cavan Carmichael could think only one thing. Thank God I love a wolf that’s tame.
97
A. J. LLEWELLYN
A. J. Llewellyn divides his time between California and Hawaii. Bags of Kona coffee in the fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep him refueled when he is on the mainland. A. J.’s passion for the islands led him to writing a play about the last ruling monarch of Hawaii, Queen Lili’uokalani. He has written a non-erotic novel about the overthrow of her kingdom—in diary form from her maid’s point of view. He never lacks inspiration for his male/male erotic romances and has to force his fingers from the computer keyboard to pursue his other passions: collecting books on Hawaiiana, surfing and spending time with his family, friends and his animal companions. A. J. Llewellyn believes that love is a song best sung out loud. To find out more about A. J., visit his website at http://www.ajllewellyn.com or you can reach him at
[email protected]. *
*
*
Don’t miss The Love God Of Indian Frybread available at AmberAllure.com!
Ever Beleño is a collector of old Hollywood memorabilia. He’s also a fan of dead people. Mummies are his special passion, just like flying saucers are his roommate Johnny’s particular obsession. Ever’s dark and gothic world might be lonely, but after a heartbreaking split with his ex, he wants it no other way…until he visits the sold-out Mummies of the World exhibit. As Ever studies one particular ancient Egyptian mummy, he experiences the odd, chilly sensation of somebody touching and following him. Every time he turns to look, he thinks it’s handsome but obnoxious security guard Chris Coelho, who snuck Ever into the exhibit as a favor. Chris clearly wants the favor returned, but would the man really feel up Ever in public? Ever isn’t sure, but then once he goes home, weird things continue happening. Chris shows up everywhere, but he’s suddenly sweet, silly, profound and…forgetful. After a torrid night of passion, Ever becomes hooked on the guy even as his feelings for Chris veer between desire and exasperation. And then, the mummy Ever had been studying disappears from the exhibit. Could the events be connected? Could the spirit of the mummy have somehow followed him home? Is Ever losing his mind? Or is Chris really, as he says in a drunken moment, The Love God of Indian Frybread?
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC THE GOLD STANDARD IN PUBLISHING QUALITY BOOKS IN BOTH PRINT AND ELECTRONIC FORMATS
ACTION/ADVENTURE SCIENCE FICTION
SUSPENSE/THRILLER DARK FANTASY
MAINSTREAM
ROMANCE
HORROR
EROTICA
FANTASY
GLBT
WESTERN
MYSTERY
PARANORMAL
HISTORICAL
B UY D IRECT AND S AVE www.AmberQuill.com www.AmberHeat.com www.AmberAllure.com
