Wearing Death

WEARING DEATH

…Brendan Wheeler knew pain. He had known it long before this inky night, long before each step carved fresh avenues of agony through his body, long before all but one of his instincts had fled, leaving only survival to guide his course. He knew how to block it out and focus on his task. He knew how to turn it into something useful when the ache became too great to ignore. Pain and Brendan were long old friends. But this…this was not his friend. This was the enemy determined to take him down. Brendan had no choice but to fight back with everything he had. Even if that wasn’t very much at the moment. Brendan ran. Through darkness, through trees, through anything in his path. Brambles scratched at his bare ankles, aggravating the burn marks left by the manacles he’d left behind. More than once, he stumbled. He fell to his knees, or onto his hands, or once, flat on his hip which rolled new waves of fire across his back, but always, always, he righted himself again to resume his course. Stopping was unacceptable. Stopping would mean death, of that, he was sure. The unforgiving sky masked the line of the horizon from his view. He lacked direction other than away, but that particular shortage did nothing to hinder his progress. He would run until he couldn’t run anymore, and when his legs gave out, he would crawl. He wouldn’t go back. He wouldn’t get caught. Youth and experience had stolen Brendan’s sense of limitations until now. Now he understood what it would take to break him. Or how close he had actually come to it. He’d been pushed to the brink, bound and gagged, and been forced to see what lay at the bottom if his captor decided to push him over. Perhaps that was how he found the strength to finally get free. That was definitely how he discovered the fortitude to keep running…

ALSO BY JAMIE CRAIG At The Advent Of Dusk Calendar Boys Series: January – December Clandestine Love Double Down Fortune’s Honor His Very Own An Innocent Proposition Keeping Time A Little Bit Bewitched Lucky Haunts The Master Chronicles, Book I - X Nowhere Man On The Ragged Edge Of The World Queen Of Diamonds Serendipity Star Attraction Stealing Northe Stealing West Sticks And Stones Tempting Fortune Those Who Cherish Time In A Bottle

WEARING DEATH BY JAMIE CRAIG

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

WEARING DEATH 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 © 2009 by Pepper Espinoza & Vivien Dean ISBN 978-1-60272-555-3 Cover Art © 2009 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

WEARING DEATH

CHAPTER 1 Brendan Wheeler knew pain. He had known it long before this inky night, long before each step carved fresh avenues of agony through his body, long before all but one of his instincts had fled, leaving only survival to guide his course. He knew how to block it out and focus on his task. He knew how to turn it into something useful when the ache became too great to ignore. Pain and Brendan were long old friends. But this…this was not his friend. This was the enemy determined to take him down. Brendan had no choice but to fight back with everything he had. Even if that wasn’t very much at the moment. Brendan ran. Through darkness, through trees, through anything in his path. Brambles scratched at his bare ankles, 1

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aggravating the burn marks left by the manacles he’d left behind. More than once, he stumbled. He fell to his knees, or onto his hands, or once, flat on his hip which rolled new waves of fire across his back, but always, always, he righted himself again to resume his course. Stopping was unacceptable. Stopping would mean death, of that, he was sure. The unforgiving sky masked the line of the horizon from his view. He lacked direction other than away, but that particular shortage did nothing to hinder his progress. He would run until he couldn’t run anymore, and when his legs gave out, he would crawl. He wouldn’t go back. He wouldn’t get caught. Youth and experience had stolen Brendan’s sense of limitations until now. Now he understood what it would take to break him. Or how close he had actually come to it. He’d been pushed to the brink, bound and gagged, and been forced to see what lay at the bottom if his captor decided to push him over. Perhaps that was how he found the strength to finally get free. That was definitely how he discovered the fortitude to keep running. His heel hit an unseen hole in the ground. His leg stopped while his upper body kept on going, and the opposing forces pitched him sideways. He landed with a squelch in a patch of mud, but while the cooler temperature eased some of the sting in his skin, his ankle flared in new protests. Brendan grabbed it to yank his foot free, gritting his teeth against the pain. Mud clung to his eyelashes. He blinked once, twice, to try and clear it. When that failed, he pushed off from the ground uncaring of the splotches in his vision, and ran even harder. His lungs joined in with his body’s screams. Each labored breath pounded in his ears, echoing against the drums to drown out the crack of twigs or the slide of rocks. If someone followed him, 2

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he couldn’t hear it. He’d likely react too late if someone reached out and grabbed him. So he ran faster. He didn’t recognize the landscape. All he could make out were the murky shapes of trees, the crest of a hill. Sweat dripped from his forehead to sting his eyes, but when he tried to wipe it away, all he did was smear it. Another mudslide loomed in front of him. He veered to the left to avoid it. He veered again when a thick branch broken off a looming oak tree barred his path. His steps slowed, began to falter. The occasional land of his heel brought with it a gasp for air, and he shook from the desire to stop. How far had he come? Far enough? What would happen if he stopped? He’d be found. Considering he was in the middle of nowhere, the only person who could find him was the last person he needed to. Only shreds of hope remained when he saw the dark shape in the distance. It could’ve been anything. A cluster of trees. An abandoned barn. An illusion. He aimed for it anyway. He had no other choice. There was always the possibility that he had gone full circle and now ran pell-mell for his once-jail, but he had to pray that he had kept straight, or at least as straight as could be expected. The shape took form. Became solid. It gained a roof, a fence, the tall stack of a chimney. Relief refueled his adrenaline, and he fell against the closed gate, fumbling with the lock with fingers that refused to cooperate. When it opened, he collapsed onto his knees, abrading them anew. Once down, though, standing became too hard. Brendan halfcrawled, half-lurched for the front door. He dragged himself up the 3

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wooden steps, heedless of the splinters catching in his broken skin. Time dragged even slower than his body. The door looked miles away, no matter how many times he pulled himself closer. He crumbled before he reached it. Darkness finally won. *

*

*

Jeremy carefully measured a single shot of whiskey and poured it into his black coffee. He never allowed himself more than that, even on nights when his neck and shoulders ached from tension, and his jaw felt tight. Due to his self-imposed limit, he made sure he didn’t lose a single drop. His tongue darted out to catch the liquid that had caught on a fingertip. The heady aroma from the rich blend of coffee filled his sinuses, and he tasted the bitter coffee on the back of his tongue long before he brought the mug to his lips. A sudden thump outside his door startled him, sending hot liquid down his chest. Fuck. He set the coffee aside and stripped the shirt, peeling it away from his skin before the burn took hold. It briefly occurred to him to pour a fresh cup and relax like he had planned, but the sound outside his door couldn’t be ignored. He had heard it before, and it always meant somebody who didn’t have the means or the attention span for a pet was trying to do the right thing by dropping it at his door. Jeremy yanked open the door and peered into the darkness. “Hello?” He expected to find a dog or a cat. Maybe a snake—it wouldn’t be the first time. Jeremy did not expect to find a man. “Sir? Sir?” He dropped into a crouch, immediately seeking out 4

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the stranger’s pulse. Throbbing against his fingertips, it raced at an unhealthy tempo. Straightening, Jeremy reached inside the door and turned on the porch light. He gasped with horror at the sight greeting him, but as the shadows shifted across the man’s strong body, he realized it wasn’t blood coating his skin. Not completely. The scratches on his ribs and shoulders still bled, but the huge, scarlet mark on his back wasn’t an open wound. It was a tattoo. Jeremy didn’t have time to puzzle out the details of the gruesome tattoo. He needed to get the man off the splintery porch. Hooking his arms beneath the stranger’s, he realized he couldn’t flip him over—the tattoo looked fresh, and an infection over that large a surface area could have dire consequences. Jeremy had the feeling the unconscious man had enough problems without adding a horrific infection to the list. Moving very carefully, he half-pulled, half-dragged the stranger into the house, moving through the kitchen for the small guest bedroom behind it. His back strained with the effort, turning into a burn that weakened his pace, but he didn’t stop moving. The stranger probably only weighed around one-sixty, but when it was dead weight, it might as well have been three hundred. Mud trailed across the carpet where Jeremy brought him in. It would have been cleaner to lift him onto the small bed, but that required strength he just didn’t have right then. Better to clean the man off and catch his breath before making the next move. He left him sprawled in the middle of the room as he went back to the kitchen for a bowl of water and some dish towels. His surprise guest hadn’t moved when he returned. Kneeling next to him, Jeremy rearranged his arms so they were relaxed at his sides, with less strain across the muscled shoulders. The skin on 5

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his wrists had been rubbed raw, though nothing looked as irritated as the tattoo mapping his back. Carefully, Jeremy began washing away the worst of the grime, using as light a touch as he could manage. The tattoo was fresh, the colors bold in spite of the swelling. As more of it was revealed, Jeremy’s strokes grew shorter, his stomach churning at the picture it portrayed. The man didn’t stir while Jeremy washed him off. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He didn’t want to know what kind of man would want this sort of grotesquerie imprinted permanently on his skin. At its center was a woman. Though she was naked, long black hair twined around her upper body, covering her face and breasts but not her sex. Her legs were caught in a wild flail, and her outstretched arms dripped scarlet blood into a pool on the checkered floor below her. Her wrists were slashed, long, vicious cuts that ran the length of her inner arms, but that wasn’t the extent of her torture. A noose wound around her throat. The unnatural angle of her head meant it had snapped her neck. There were no other identifying marks, no pockets to contain identification. But after he shone the lamp onto the man’s face, he realized he didn’t need a driver’s license to get the man’s name. He recognized most people in town by sight, but he knew Detective Brendan Wheeler professionally. Wheeler had never struck him as the sort of man who would permanently scar his body with a horrific death, but then, Jeremy had only talked to him two or three times. “Mr. Wheeler? Brendan?” Jeremy brushed the dirt off Brendan’s brow. Other than a scrape across his cheek, his face was unmarred. Whatever had happened to him, it hadn’t been something as simple as a fistfight. 6

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Brendan didn’t move. Jeremy took a glance at his filthy water and rose to change it. There was still no sign of Brendan waking when he returned, but the detective’s pulse had slowed to a more natural rhythm. That was good. One less thing for him to worry about. Cleaning him was tedious work. Dirt covered him everywhere. One whole flank looked like he’d taken a dip in a mud bath. Jeremy had to swap out his water half a dozen times before Brendan started looking more normal, though the tattoo emblazoned across his back was anything but. He was washing some of the grit out of a wrist when Brendan finally made a noise. The arm in Jeremy’s grasp tensed, then stiffened. Brendan tried to yank it away, but for all his muscles, the power to do so escaped him. “Let go.” His voice rasped, like it hadn’t been used very much lately, or maybe because it had been used too much. Jeremy didn’t argue as he released him. There was no reason to upset the other man. “Detective Wheeler? It’s okay. I’m just trying to get you clean.” Long lashes blinked open, though dried mud had caked along their dark lengths. The brown eyes that peered up at him were slow to focus, and several seconds passed as Brendan stared at him. “Doc?” The word came out as a croak, and Brendan ran his tongue over his dry lower lip. “Where am I?” “My house. My guest bedroom, to be specific. Do you know how you got here?” “Ran.” “What were you running from?” Silence. Brendan licked his lips again. It didn’t look like it made a difference. 7

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“Can I have some water, please?” “Yes. Do you want to get off the floor first? I think you might be more comfortable on the bed.” His dark gaze flickered in front of him. His brows lifted, as if in surprise at seeing where he was. Without asking for help, he bent his arms and braced his hands on the floor, every tendon standing out in his neck as he pushed himself up. Jeremy slipped his arm beneath Brendan’s stomach to make it easier, and together, they managed to get him upright. Brendan swayed as soon as he was on his own two feet. “Thanks,” he muttered when Jeremy caught him. He didn’t speak again until he’d collapsed onto the narrow bed, uncaring of the blankets still flat beneath his stomach. “I need a phone, too.” “No problem. Just…wait here.” Jeremy felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth. Where else would the detective wait? Casting one more look over his shoulder, he slipped out of the room and into the kitchen. Before he fetched the water, he went to the backdoor to survey the darkness. The golden glow from his porch light didn’t stretch far, which meant endless miles of blackness smothered the house. He had chosen to live away from town precisely because he couldn’t tolerate being surrounded by people all day, every day. But now he had a sick, heavy feeling right in the pit of his stomach, and for the first time in years, he wished he lived right in the middle of civilization. Who was out there? Or what? What could possibly be large enough, frightening enough, to chase a decorated police detective through the woods? Did he even want to know? Deciding that he didn’t, he quietly shut the backdoor and locked it. 8

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Though Brendan’s eyes were closed when he returned, they opened as soon as Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed. They smiled where his mouth couldn’t. “You’re still here. For a sec, I thought I’d hallucinated it all again.” “I’m still here,” Jeremy assured him, holding the glass to Brendan’s lips and watching as he took the first, tentative drink. “You’ve been hallucinating?” For as awful as the man must be feeling, he had enough of his senses to know not to gulp at the water. “Considering my other option, the hallucinations were more than welcome.” Jeremy wanted to inquire about what happened. If Brendan had brought a dog to Jeremy’s home in this condition, he wouldn’t hesitate to ask. But Brendan wasn’t a dog, and Jeremy wasn’t his doctor. “I think it might be best to take you to the hospital.” Brendan shook his head. “Need to call the chief first. He might…it might not be too late.” “Of course.” Jeremy took the phone from his belt and pressed it into his palm. Now that Brendan was on the bed and the light shone directly on his back, Jeremy couldn’t help but stare at the woman branded into his skin. He didn’t recognize her face. Was there any reason to? Was this some sort of fantasy victim? Was she a victim of anybody at all? The closer inspection also revealed little doubt that the tattoo was fresh. Brendan’s flesh was red and puffy, the colors shiny. “Hey, Chief.” An exhausted sigh escaped Brendan’s lips, and he seemed to sink into the pillow. Something had been lifted from his shoulders. “I’m out at Doc Reed’s. No, not the office. His 9

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house.” He glanced at Jeremy while the chief spoke on the other end. “I can’t. I barely made it here. You need to come see me.” When more words muffled through, he shook his head and held the phone out. “Tell him why, and tell him to be fast.” Jeremy took the phone, suddenly wishing he had that shot of whiskey. “Mike? Hey. I’m not sure what happened to your detective, but I think you need to come out here. And probably bring a few guys for back up.” “What’s Wheeler doing there anyway? He’s been missing for five days.” Jeremy’s stomach churned. “I don’t know. I found him at my backdoor. It looks like it’s a good thing he found my porch, because I don’t think he could have gone another step.” He absently removed a small leaf that had clung stubbornly to Brendan’s hair. “Five days?” “He didn’t show up for a shift. We’ve been keeping it out of the news because it was obvious there was foul play. His apartment was wrecked. ’Course, some of that might be because that dog of his got left there all on its own.” Jeremy winced slightly. “Is he okay? Maybe you should bring him out here, too, so I can check him out.” “Oh, he’s fine. I’ve been keeping him here until we found Wheeler. Tell him I’ll be right out, and I’ll bring Mazursky and Stowe along. I’m betting he wants to give a statement about what happened.” Jeremy bet that he didn’t. “I don’t think it’s a matter of want, chief. And bring the dog, anyway.” Giving the dog a check-up would at least make him feel less out of his league. “Fine, fine, I’ll bring the dog. You’re as bad as Wheeler.” “Thanks.” Jeremy snapped the phone closed and put it back on 10

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his belt. “He said he’s going to be right out. With Mazursky and Stowe. And your dog. I guess that means I should find you some pants.” “Thanks.” With his requests satisfied, Brendan’s eyelids began to droop again. “I think I’m just going to take a little nap until he gets here, if that’s okay. I’m just so…tired.” Brendan was asleep before Jeremy had the chance to respond. He had a pair of shorts that would fit Brendan’s trim hips, but getting those on him would have probably awakened the exhausted man. Instead, he pulled a new blanket from the closet and spread it across Brendan’s lower back and legs. Maybe he would indulge in that whiskey before Mike arrived. And if Brendan woke up again, maybe he would share the bottle. He thought the poor guy might need more than one drink.

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CHAPTER 2 Everything burned. The leather around his wrists, around his ankles. His eyes from the blindfold he never got to take off. His shoulder blades where needles pricked constantly at his skin. There was no relief. No cessation. Only when he passed out from the pain did Brendan escape the fire. Part of him didn’t want to wake up. He couldn’t endure more of the damn buzzing. He’d tried to get his captor to speak to him in the beginning, but nothing worked. Then he knew he had to reserve his strength, so communicating took a backseat. But at least the talking had blocked out the buzzing. And sleep. Glorious sleep. A voice prickled through the heavy clouds filling his head. Brendan ignored it for a moment before reason whispered a 12

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reminder that he still had no idea who it was that had snatched him. He struggled to wake up, to get some kind of clue he could use, something that might be tangible if he ever got out of this place. His body protested the activity. He pushed it anyway. “Wheeler.” The voice wasn’t what he’d expected. Forcing his eyes to open, Brendan stared at the blur crouched at his side, willing it to sharpen. He squinted, but that only helped a little bit. It took time to clear, time for the lined face of his boss to swim into focus. “Chief.” Memories came roaring back. He wasn’t on the cold table anymore. He was stretched out on a bed. He’d escaped, and somehow, he’d found sanctuary. “Am I still at Doc’s?” “Yep. We’ve been here for about thirty minutes, but we couldn’t get you to wake up.” Chief Mike Haas gestured toward the door. “Reed’s seeing to Raider. I told him that damned dog was fine, but I guess he wouldn’t take my word for it.” Thirty minutes. Alarm sizzled through Brendan’s veins, enough to drive him to try and sit up. Immediately, his back seized, and he cried out in pain. “We need to get out and backtrack how I got here,” he wheezed as he propped himself up on his knuckles. Damn it, he’d managed the needles just fine in captivity; he could certainly handle it now. “I want this son of a bitch behind bars.” “Relax there.” Mike put a hard, yet somehow soothing, hand on Brendan’s shoulder. “I want you to give me your formal statement. You need to tell me everything that happened. I’ve already got Stowe and Mazursky out there, and they’ve radioed in for backup.” “They don’t even know what they’re looking for.” He tried again to rise, but Mike was having nothing of it. “My statement can wait, Chief. I need to help.” 13

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“They’re trained to investigate crimes. Hell, a few of them have been on the force since before you were born. So a little respect, huh? But it’ll make their jobs easier if you tell me what happened. You can start with the tattoo.” He had to be referring to Brendan’s back. Though his captor had never said what he was doing, and the blindfold had kept Brendan from witnessing it, he’d felt the needles do their work. He’d been in more than one tattoo parlor during his undercover career, too, enough to recognize the sound. “I don’t know what it is. I haven’t seen it. I don’t even know why he gave it to me.” “Oh.” Mike straightened and moved out of Brendan’s line of sight. “Well, it’s a woman. No identifying features or markings. She has slit wrists and a noose around her neck. It’s…well, the art is rather well done.” Brendan twisted his neck to try and get a glimpse, but the creasing of his skin felt like he’d been scalded. “But no clues as to why he’d put it there. Is it done? He worked on it almost the entire time I was there.” “No. No clues. And I don’t think it’s completed. It looks like he was filling in the background.” Mike returned to his spot near Brendan’s head. “Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out. Then we’ll get you to the hospital.” Brendan took a deep breath. “I got home from shift on Sunday night and went straight to bed. I was exhausted. Something woke me up around two, but before I could get to my gun, the guy who broke in had poked a needle full of something in my arm. I fought him as long as I could, but I think I ended up making a bigger mess more than hurting him. And I never heard a peep out of Raider. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d drugged him, too.” 14

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“So, you were drugged. You didn’t see his face or any other features?” When Brendan shook his head, Mike continued, “What about where he took you. Can you give me any details about that?” “I was blindfolded the entire time. I woke up, and I was strapped facedown on a table or something. It smelled damp, so I figured I was in a basement, but I didn’t know for sure until I got away.” He shivered at the memory of the decrepit farmhouse. “The place was creepy. Probably abandoned.” “How did you escape?” “The cuffs he used were leather. I worked on them whenever he wasn’t around. Once I had one hand free, the rest of them were easy.” “It’s a shame Reed washed you so thoroughly.” Mike sighed and straightened. “He probably washed away evidence.” Mention of Dr. Reed brought a flush to Brendan’s skin. He didn’t remember getting washed. He did remember waking up to the doctor’s gentle hands, and the casual comment about needing to find pants for Brendan before he’d fallen asleep the second time. “I was pretty dirty when I got here,” he said in the vet’s defense. “I fell in a couple mud puddles when I was running. He was just doing his job.” “His job is to cut the balls off dogs. And maybe find you some clothes, so we can get you to the hospital. When was the last time you were tested for hepatitis and HIV?” “Two months ago.” It was a constant danger in the job. And HIV tests had been a routine part of his life ever since he’d figured out he was gay. Not that the chief knew anything about that. “And Doc tried. I fell asleep on him.” “I’m pretty sure hep tests are routine for surprise tattoos. Not that I’ve ever actually seen anybody tattooed against his will.” 15

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Mike’s face creased, and for a moment, he didn’t look like the police chief. He looked like an old friend. “You scared the hell out of us, you know.” His mouth canted. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” “Don’t let it happen again. We’re going to assign a few of the guys to guard duty. And I think we need to beef up security in your home, too. Whoever this psycho is, he’s not going to get a second chance.” When Mike moved toward the doorway, Brendan asked, “Can you send Doc in? I want to thank him for helping me.” “Sure. I’m going to get a report on everybody’s progress, then I’m taking you to the hospital.” He stepped out of the room and bellowed Jeremy’s name. “What? I’m coming.” “Brendan wants to talk to you.” The door clicked shut, and then Dr. Reed’s familiar voice greeted him. “How are you feeling?” Now that he wasn’t completely out of his head, it was hard not to appreciate the sight of Jeremy Reed. When Brendan had first moved to this small Oregon town, the first thing he’d done was find the vet. Raider was his baby, his number one priority no matter where he lived. But this doctor was a far cry to Raider’s last one. This one had the most delicious dark skin Brendan had ever seen, with warm brown eyes and a smile that couldn’t look insincere if the guy was paid a million bucks. Both Brendan and Raider had liked him on sight. It was good fortune Brendan had managed to find his house. “Probably a lot better once I get some painkillers in me at the hospital.” He smiled, though in his current state, he wasn’t sure if it came across as one or as a grimace. “I want to thank you for 16

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everything. It’s been…a rough few days for me.” “I’m just glad I could help at all. I heard what Mike said. About washing away evidence.” Jeremy grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about making things worse.” “Don’t worry about it. Hopefully, the guys’ll find the house they need to. Then they’ll have all the evidence they could want.” “If you don’t mind sitting up, I can help you get dressed. Not that the blanket isn’t very becoming, but I think you might feel more comfortable with some pants.” Gingerly, Brendan braced himself to get up, locking his shoulders to keep his back straight as he maneuvered first onto his knuckles again, and then onto his hip. Now that he was more coherent, he was able to dissemble the various aches in his body. His legs were sore from the running, but that was manageable. His back burned from the tattoo, but as long as he kept it straight, that was tolerable as well. The chafing at his wrists and ankles were almost as sensitive to touch as his back, but without contact, they just looked ugly and angry. He scowled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I really look like hell. I’m surprised you even recognized me.” Jeremy’s gaze tracked over his body. “I didn’t at first. Not until I cleared off some of the dirt. Besides, Raider is one of my favorite patients. I wouldn’t forget his dad.” “Does that mean I can board him here until I get out of the hospital?” He took the sweats Jeremy held out. Bending over to slip them on was out of the question. He had to lift his leg, his knee near his chest, in order to get a foot in. “It would make my life a lot easier if I knew I didn’t have to worry about him.” “Yeah, I’ll be happy to take care of him.” Jeremy bent his knees and reached for Brendan’s foot. He easily pulled the material 17

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over Brendan’s foot, then reached for his other ankle and held it with light fingers as he tugged the sweats over Brendan’s toes. “Honestly, I’ll be happy for the company. I’m a little freaked out.” “About what happened to me?” Focusing on that made it easier not to focus on Jeremy’s careful touch. “If you want some of the guys to keep an eye on the place, just tell Chief. But I’ll make sure your name stays out of everything. Nobody needs to know you helped me.” “No, I don’t think I need a guard or anything. It’s just…there’s some crazy person somewhere out there. It’s like something out of a scary movie. Don’t go in the woods alone.” Jeremy hooked his fingers around the waistband and straightened, pulling the pants up to his knees. “It’s just not something you’d expect around here.” Brendan eased off the edge of the bed in order to stand and pull the sweats up the rest of the way himself. When the waistband dug into his sore back, he pushed it down so it rested lower on his hips. “I wish I could say bad people stuck to the cities, but that would be a lie. I would be out of a job if that were true.” “I guess that’s why I work with animals. They might misbehave, but they’re not…evil.” Jeremy turned to the closet. “I know you probably don’t want anything against your back, but trust me, you’ll be sorry if you don’t cover that tat with something.” He was sorrier he had the tattoo in the first place. “I just wish I knew why he bothered with it. He could’ve killed me a dozen times over, but he never laid a finger on me except for this.” Jeremy held out a baggy, green T-shirt. “Have you seen it yet?” “No. I tried. It hurts too much to twist around.” “I can take a picture, if you want, with my phone. Though…I’ll understand if you don’t want to see it.” 18

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Mike was going to end up taking pictures, too. Close-ups. Brilliant color. Multiple angles. It wouldn’t be long before Brendan was intimately aware of what had been etched onto his back. From the way everybody kept acting, and the brief description Mike had given, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.” The shirt dangled from his fingers as he turned his back on Jeremy. If his initial impressions came when it was small and blurry, it would lessen the shock of seeing it in Technicolor. Brendan held himself perfectly still as Jeremy circled behind him. He even stilled his breath. He resisted the impulse to look over his shoulder to see what Jeremy was doing, though he felt the warmth from the other man’s body as he stepped closer. “Here.” He reached over Brendan’s shoulder and handed him the phone. “I tried to get a few different shots.” Locking his jaw helped steel him against the first glance, but the sight of the woman—small, broken, and very, very dead— turned his flesh to ice. Brendan flipped through the pictures with a cop’s efficiency, trying not to associate the familiar breadth of the shoulders with himself. Not my body. Except it was. A brand his captor had been very determined he wear. Determined enough to lock him away with minimal food and water until it was perfect. And now Brendan had thwarted his plans by escaping. Suddenly, he didn’t like the idea of Jeremy being without a guard at all. “Thanks.” He passed the phone back and stepped away to put on the T-shirt. “You know, it might not be a bad idea to spend the night at your office if you’ve got a spare bed there.” He tried to make the suggestion sound casual, like he wasn’t terrified of this psycho going after the good doc. “Mike and the guys are going to 19

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be all over these woods, trying to find that house. They’ll probably keep you up all night.” “I love my practice, but I wouldn’t sleep at my office unless there was a real emergency. Police combing through the woods might be annoying, but a dozen dogs whimpering for their families is just too much for me to bear.” The time-softened cotton rubbed against his skin as he pulled it over his head. Brendan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing. “What if I asked you to?” Jeremy studied him for a moment before inclining his head. “I’ll find a place in town for me and Raider to stay tonight. But only because I don’t want to add to your stress.” “Thanks.” A knock at the door made both of them look. Mike poked his head in, though he didn’t enter all the way. “Now’s the best time to hit the road. The sooner I get you looked at, the happier I’m going to be.” Brendan nodded. Holding out his hand toward Jeremy, he smiled and said, “And thanks again for watching Raider.” Jeremy gripped Brendan’s fingers with a small smile. “Watching Raider is actually my pleasure.” With a careful gait, he left the doctor behind. Mike was there every step of the way, but Brendan’s thoughts were only partially on his exodus. Most of them were trapped in a dark, dank basement, wondering what the hell a madman wanted with his skin.

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CHAPTER 3 Despite the relative safety of the hotel room, Jeremy didn’t sleep. He let Raider stay on the bed with him, the German Shepherd curled close to his body, his head resting on Jeremy’s stomach. As he stroked between Raider’s ears, his thoughts lingered on Brendan. The more he thought about the tattoo, the more horrific it became. The first impression had made him sick, but he continued to study the images saved on his phone. Maybe he was looking for a clue. Maybe he just wanted to make some sort of sense of it. How did you make sense of something so frighteningly illogical? Jeremy didn’t know. But he did know why the tattoo had disturbed him on the most fundamental level. It wasn’t just the violation. It was the permanent mutilation. The abuse of Brendan’s 21

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bodily integrity. Even though the tattoo could eventually be removed, the process wasn’t perfect. And it wasn’t painless. By dawn, Jeremy gave up the pretense of sleep. His head was heavy and his eyes gritty, but he had plenty of work to do at the office. He could get there early and go home at a reasonable hour, instead of staying well into the night. He wasn’t the only one happy to get out of the hotel room. Raider jumped off the bed and waited at the door, his tail wagging furiously, his eyes wide as he watched Jeremy dress and repack his overnight bag. “You ready for your walk?” Raider barked in response. “Shh. We don’t want to wake everybody up. They’ll never let me stay here again.” He snapped the leash onto Raider’s collar and pulled the door open. Despite the pent up energy, he heeled without being told. That was one of the reasons Raider was one of Jeremy’s favorite patients. The dog was well behaved and well trained. Which meant Brendan was one of his favorite pet owners. The route Jeremy chose took them right past the Coffeeberry, and the faint aroma made his mouth water and his senses perk up. Tugging gently on the leash, he led Raider into the coffee shop, expecting a greeting from the bright eyed girl that always staffed the counter. But there was only silence. “Gilda?” No answer. Raider growled and pulled against the leash, his ears and tail going up. Jeremy automatically tightened his hold on the dog and ventured deeper into the store. “Gilda?” The pastry case was empty. And he had to stare at the empty counter for several beats before he realized what was missing—the 22

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morning’s newspapers. Though the café was open, none of the morning requirements had been attended to. Most of the chairs were still upside down on the tables. Raider growled again, and shivers rolled down Jeremy’s spine. He didn’t need this weirdness after a sleepless night. “Gilda?” Now his voice was high, and a little breathless. He reached the counter and dared a glance over the top. The splash of blood on the floor made him think of cherries. He followed the streak of crimson to Gilda’s slack face. The slack face that was so familiar, it made his heart hammer. With shaking, untrustworthy fingers, he pulled his cell from his belt and scrolled through to the photo. It wasn’t a complete match. The woman tattooed on Brendan’s back had been hanging with her feet dangling over a checkered floor. While Gilda had a rope around her neck, she was slumped against the back wall, the rope trailing over her shoulder. Onto the checkered floor. Jeremy automatically looked up. There wasn’t a support beam in sight that she could’ve been hung from. He backed out of the café, though she slipped from view as soon as he was more than a few feet away from the counter. Shakily, he dialed 9-1-1, but it wasn’t the sound of the operator coming on the line that helped calm him down. It was the smooth texture of Raider’s fur at his side. It took six minutes for the police to arrive. Six long, excruciating minutes. He really should’ve gone straight to the office. Two men got out of the first car. Jeremy recognized Stowe from the night before, but it was Chief Haas who came straight toward him. 23

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“Vet practice must be getting a little boring lately,” he commented. Jeremy shook his head. “Trust me, I get enough excitement without seeking out this…what the hell is this?” Mike looked tired. Jeremy wondered if he’d gone to bed yet. Probably not. And from the looks of it, he wouldn’t any time soon. “We’re still trying to figure that out. We think we found the house where Wheeler was being kept, but someone flooded the basement. If there’s evidence in the rest of the house, it’s going to take us days to collect it all and get it processed. And this…” With a sigh, he glanced toward the police tape Stowe was placing across the door. “You really think it looks like Wheeler’s tattoo?” Jeremy took a deep, unsteady breath. “Yes, I really think it does. I should have recognized her face…but I just…I guess I wasn’t paying close enough attention. But everything…the noose around her neck, the slit in her wrists, the fucking floor. It’s all the same.” Unhooking his phone from his belt, Mike punched in a number and held it to his ear. “Fran, get Mazursky back to the station. I want him to walk all the evidence we got on Wheeler’s case through the chain. It gets top priority until the Coffeeberry crew gets done. And tell the guys on Wheeler’s guard duty this isn’t a temporary gig. I’m keeping them glued to his ass until we find out what’s going on.” Another car pulled up as Mike snapped his phone shut. He left Jeremy and Raider to approach the new arrivals, barking orders for them to get inside and get started. “We’ll need your prints,” he said when they were alone again. “Did you touch anything inside?” “Um, no. I don’t know. I mean, I opened the door. And I might 24

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have touched the counter. How long will it take? I’ve got to get to work.” Jeremy realized how callous that sounded, but he desperately wanted to get away from the coffee shop and any reminder of the girl he would never see again. Mike took longer to answer than he would have expected. “Tell you what. Considering everything you did last night, why don’t you head on over to your office now? I’ll stop by once we’ve got the scene under control and get your prints and your statement then.” He shouldn’t have been so relieved. “Really? Thanks. I…I appreciate that. If it’s easier for you, I’ll come by the station. You can just call the office.” Mike nodded and promised he would be in touch before trotting over to where Stowe beckoned him. Jeremy wondered if anybody had called Brendan yet. He would need to know about this, but Jeremy didn’t think this was something he should hear over the phone. And he would probably want to see his dog. He walked back to the hotel and loaded Raider into his car. Raider whined with excitement, clearly pleased to be going for a ride. Halfway to the hospital, Jeremy thought to call his office and let them know he was going to be late. He wasn’t sure how Brendan would take the news, but it seemed like a good idea to plan to be at the hospital for awhile at least. *

*

*

Whoever invented pain medication had Brendan’s undying devotion. For the first time in days, he felt the world without the sharp edge of agony cutting into every motion. He had to deal with the slightly fuzzy effects of the meds, but that was preferable to 25

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wishing for unconsciousness, just to forget the pain. The nurses hadn’t wrapped his tattoo in bandages as he’d expected. Instead, they’d covered it with something that felt and looked like Saran Wrap. They had given him the choice of whether he wanted to sleep on his stomach or his back. With the worst of the pain gone, Brendan chose his back. As long as he didn’t move around too much, the tattoo remained a light heat along his skin rather than a searing inferno. He could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was the boredom. The TV was broken, and moving his arms too much stretched the skin over his shoulders, so reading was out. Without distraction, his thoughts kept straying to the horrors of the past week, the questions he didn’t have answers to. Questions like, why the tattoo? What purpose did it serve? Who wanted to hurt him this way? Was it personal or was just unlucky? He wished he could sleep. He was on the verge of calling a nurse to see if they could give him something for it when Jeremy Reed appeared in the open doorway. “Hi.” A smile spread over Brendan’s face at the sight of the vet, widening even farther when he saw Raider at his side. He knew it was more than a little goofy, but he was so glad for the visit, he didn’t care. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” “Well, Raider wanted to know how you were doing.” Jeremy approached the bed, Raider walking comfortably at his side. “And I did, too.” “I get to talk to you without having my face mushed into a pillow.” His smile broadened. “Definitely a good start.” “And it looks like the nurse did a better job with the sponge bath than I did. Did you get a cute one?” “Not really. More of a young Robert DeNiro with hands like 26

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hams. But hey, she knows how to use a sponge, so I’m not complaining.” Carefully, he stretched his hand out over the side of the bed. Raider stepped forward and nuzzled against his palm. “Hey there, boy. Are you driving Dr. Reed crazy yet?” “Oh, no. He’s been good. And I’m going to take him to the office with me today, so he’s going to be the star of the lobby.” Jeremy pulled the chair closer and perched on the edge. “He won’t mind being the center of attention for awhile, I hope.” “Considering how often he has to take a backseat because of my work, he’s long overdue. Aren’t you, champ?” The texture of Raider’s fur against his fingers made the sterile environment feel a little more like home. Brendan relaxed into his pillows and turned his attention back to Jeremy. The man was really too good-looking for words. Brendan thought he could stay in bed and just stare at him all day. “You have to let me make all this up to you somehow. I feel guilty that all I seem to be doing is taking advantage of your generosity.” “You don’t have to make anything up to me,” Jeremy said, with a wave of his hand. “You haven’t been taking advantage of my generosity.” He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “Has…has Chief Haas called you this morning?” “No.” Brendan frowned. He’d been so caught up in having a visitor, he hadn’t even noticed how somber Jeremy seemed. “Why? You didn’t have any trouble after we left last night, did you?” “No, I didn’t. But…do you ever go to the Coffeeberry?” “Occasionally. Not regularly. Why?” “I dropped by there this morning, while I was taking Raider out on his walk. The young woman who works—worked—there, Gilda, was…” Jeremy took a deep breath. “I found her body 27

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behind the counter. She’s…the woman in the tattoo.” It took several seconds for Jeremy’s words to register. The woman in the tattoo. The one on his back. The dead one on his back. Now she had a name. Or she did have a name, because the sick bastard who’d kidnapped him had apparently decided the art wasn’t good enough without real blood to bring it to life. “What happened?” It came out in a croak. The look on Jeremy’s face was a familiar one. Brendan had seen variations of it throughout his career, every time somebody had to share a less than positive turn of events. Doctors when he needed to interrogate an injured witness. Lawyers when judgments came back that set the wrong men free. Jeremy had to glance down at the floor for a moment to compose himself before meeting Brendan’s eyes again and speaking. “I’m not entirely sure. It looks like…he might have been lying in wait for her when she opened the store. Or maybe he got her last night while she was closing? He…well, the only thing he didn’t do was…was hang her.” Jeremy spread his hands helplessly. “Chief Haas gave me permission to leave the scene with the promise that he would talk to me later. I thought it might better for you if you didn’t hear about it over the phone.” It would be better if he didn’t have to be told about it at all, but wishing for someone not to be dead never did anybody any good. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago. “And you found her. Because you were walking Raider. Jesus, Doc, I am so sorry. You shouldn’t have to see any of this.” “Don’t apologize to me. Please don’t.” Jeremy leaned forward and covered Brendan’s hand. “You’re a good cop—a good man— and you don’t deserve to be some psycho’s…plaything. I just wish there was something I could actually do to help.” 28

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The touch was welcome. More than welcome. Wanted. Jeremy had warm, strong fingers slightly roughened from his work with the animals, and the way they absently stroked over Brendan’s knuckles had his body reacting in old, hungry ways. “You’re doing more than enough.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to break the contact between their hands, excusing it away as too painful to move. “Though if you’re asking, I might need you to hold onto Raider a little bit longer. It sounds like this case just exploded. Chief’s going to need all the man-hours he can get.” “I’ll take care of Raider as long as you need me to. But…do you really think Mike is going to let you work on the case? It seems that it’d be too dangerous for you to be involved.” “He has to. I’m his best source of evidence.” “Oh, I’m sure he’d be happy to use you like any other witness. I just don’t know if it’s safe for you to be another cop on the case.” “I won’t give him a choice. If I wanted safe, I wouldn’t have become a cop in the first place.” Jeremy smiled. “What about the chain of command?” Brendan shrugged, mildly embarrassed. “Not exactly my strong suit.” “I see that.” His hand still covered Brendan’s, and he still didn’t seem interested in breaking the contact. “I guess it’s none of my business. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.” “The important thing is to make sure nobody else gets hurt. But I appreciate the concern. It’s been a while since anybody other than my boss worried about me.” Jeremy tilted his head. “I find that hard to believe.” “It’s not so tough. My family’s on the east coast, I work obscene hours in a job that sometimes means I disappear for days at a time. I can’t really blame anyone who doesn’t stick around.” 29

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Jeremy finally released Brendan’s hand and leaned back in his chair. “I guess that means I better take extra good care of Raider. Sounds like you’d be pretty lonely without him.” “Which is why I work so many hours,” he joked. “You’re setting up a chicken-egg situation. Are you lonely because you work so many hours, or do you work so many hours because you’re lonely?” “Oh, hey now. You’re the one who called me lonely. Maybe I’m just a workaholic with antisocial tendencies.” He pretended to pause and consider it. “Which actually doesn’t make me sound any better, now that I think of it.” Jeremy laughed softly, which was a highly unlikely sound, given the time and the place. But not an unpleasant one. He had a rich, low laugh that left Brendan more than a little warm. Almost like he wanted to laugh, too, just so he could share the joke. “Actually, it makes you sound just fine to me. But that’s only because I’m an antisocial workaholic, too.” “Two of a kind then.” His smile returned. “So what happens when two antisocial personalities become friends? We’re not going to make the universe implode because we broke laws of nature, are we?” “If I ignore you for weeks at a time and don’t return your calls regularly, then we can probably keep the universe from imploding. Just don’t take it personally.” Brendan’s ringing cell phone stopped him from responding, but the personalized tune told him it was Chief Haas. His smile disappeared, and he braced himself for the details that Jeremy hadn’t been able to give him. “I’ll go,” Jeremy said, rising from his chair. Brendan shook his head and gestured for him to sit down again. 30

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Satisfied that Jeremy wasn’t going to run away, he pushed talk and brought the phone to his ear. Haas immediately greeted him with, “I’ve got some bad news.” He kept his features immobile as Haas described the scene, the mirror images to the tattoo, the discrepancies as well. “We won’t know for sure until the tox report comes back,” Mike said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he drugged her first. There’s no sign of a struggle, not on the body, not in the store. It’s possible she knew him, though, but considering what happened to you, I’m leaning toward sedation.” “That’s if he’s working alone.” “Right. As far as we know, there could be two of them. Or more. There’s just not enough evidence for us to form any kind of theory yet. Did you know this girl?” “No, not really. I’ve been in there a few times, but I’m not a regular. And I don’t know any of the employees by name.” Mike pondered that for a moment. “There’s got to be something tying you two together, though. This is too premeditated to be a random choice.” “She might have a connection I wouldn’t be aware of. If you bring over her bio, list of her friends, that kind of a thing, I can see where we might intersect. It’ll make me useful now instead of having to wait until I get out of the hospital.” “Wheeler…” Brendan didn’t like the tone of his voice already. “You’re not working this case.” Though he knew Jeremy wasn’t staring, he felt the other man’s gaze heavy on his skin, and steeled himself from visibly reacting. “Why? I’m invested in this, Chief.” “Which is exactly why I’m keeping you off it. You’re a material witness. And he’s already gotten to you once.” 31

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“I’m not going to let that happen again.” “I know. But that doesn’t change my mind. I’m sorry, Wheeler, but this is how it’s going to be.” Mike sighed. “Look. You focus on getting better. I’ll be over this afternoon to go over everything. Get some sleep and try not to think about it.” It wasn’t until Mike disconnected that Brendan realized his knuckles were white from how tightly he held his phone. “I guess you were right,” he said without looking at Jeremy. “Chief’s keeping me off the case.” “I wouldn’t take it personally. He probably just doesn’t want one of his best guys in harm’s way.” Anger boiled inside him. “The fact that I am one of his best guys is exactly why he needs me on this.” “You can still help. The information you have will be valuable. Speaking of staying safe…where are you going after they release you from here?” Brendan only half heard Jeremy’s question, too focused on composing his argument on what he could bring to the investigation. He wasn’t going to back off from this without a fight. “What? Oh, I’ll just go home. Chief’s got guys looking out for me, and I don’t plan on being there that much anyway.” “Because you’re going to be finding this guy single-handedly?” “I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I mean, think about it. If you knew there was a guy out there deliberately killing the animals under your care, are you telling me you wouldn’t do everything in your power to make him stop?” “Of course, I would. I’m not even saying you should sit back and do nothing. But whoever this asshole is, he broke into your home, doped you and Raider, and was strong enough, and smart 32

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enough, to hold you against your will for five days. I’m just worried about what will happen if he gets a second chance at you.” Brendan regarded Jeremy closely. He seemed sincere. He wasn’t sure why. All Brendan had done so far was disrupt his life. He wanted to argue that the psycho wouldn’t get a second chance now that Brendan was alert to his presence, but something stayed his tongue. The fact that Jeremy had been such a great guy about all this so far? Probably. “I’ll figure something out,” he said. “And I know Raider’s safe. He’s going to be with you.” Jeremy looked at him from beneath his lashes, regarding Brendan almost shyly. “You could…be safe, too, you know.” The offer stunned him. The doctor barely knew him. And the shine in his dark eyes looked like more than polite interest. The memory of Jeremy’s hand resting on his hand brought goose bumps to his arm, but he quelled his runaway imagination before it decided Jeremy wanted to jump him. “I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve done so much for me already.” “You’re not asking it of me. I’m offering.” “Why?” Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Or even if it’s necessary. But…he knows where you live. It might be best if you didn’t go home.” It would’ve been the same advice he gave a potential victim. Get out of town. Get out of danger’s way. Don’t invite disaster. Following his own advice had never been easy. “I would have to swing it by Chief first. And you’d have to let me put up some extra security. I’m not putting you in any more danger.” 33

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“I’ve been meaning to put up more security for awhile now.” Jeremy smiled. “The house is big enough we can stay out of each other’s way, if we need to.” “Yeah.” Though he met the other man’s smile with one of his own, Brendan couldn’t ignore the flutter in his stomach. He wasn’t sure any house was big enough for him to forget his growing attraction to Jeremy. He would have to make sure the stay was a short one. For the good of everyone.

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CHAPTER 4 Objectively, Jeremy knew extending the invitation wasn’t the most reasonable thing he had ever done. He wasn’t accustomed to living with anybody else, even for a few days, and he wasn’t sure how he would handle living with a practical stranger for an undetermined number of days. For another thing, regardless of the extra security he added, he was placing himself at risk. There was some crazy person looking for Detective Brendan Wheeler, and he had opened his home to the man without hesitation or even really thinking about it. He couldn’t exactly say why he had done it. Except that he didn’t want anything to happen to Brendan. It had been difficult to see the other man in the hospital bed, and the thought of him being at the mercy of that psycho again did something to Jeremy that 35

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exceeded a normal, friendly reaction. Preparing the house for a long-term guest—and Jeremy thought he counted as a guest more than a roommate—wasn’t easy. Mainly because Jeremy wasn’t sure what Brendan needed or expected. So he had cleaned the guest room and changed the sheets, stocked the kitchen with food, and made sure the spare bathroom had clean towels and new soap. Instead of being a burden, each step of the preparation filled him with an odd anticipation. And that anticipation was picked up by Raider, who shadowed Jeremy from room to room, wagging his tail and barking occasionally. Jeremy even started dinner. Nothing fancy, but he doubted that Brendan had been given anything too great in the hospital. A home cooked meal would probably be welcome, even if it just consisted of spaghetti and a green salad. The distant sound of a car pulling up to the house sent Raider racing for the front door. He didn’t bark, but rather, sat next to it, his tail thumping loudly against the hardwood floor. Jeremy peeked out the small window first, and though he didn’t recognize the gray Taurus, there was no mistaking Brendan’s tight body pulling a bag out of the open trunk. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, but his tawny complexion looked a lot healthier than it had been two days prior at the hospital. He wore a loose-fitting navy T-shirt over faded jeans that rode low on his slim hips. The muscles in his arm rippled as he headed for the porch. He smiled when Jeremy opened the door before he reached it. “I’m actually going to make it all the way inside without passing out this time,” he joked. “That’s good, because I don’t know if you want me to drag you in the house again. You can take your bag into the guest room, and then we can have dinner. If you’re hungry.” 36

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“I’m starved. I haven’t eaten a decent meal in a week.” He entered after Jeremy had stepped out of the way, only to immediately crouch to greet Raider. “Hey there, champ. You haven’t driven Doc crazy, have you?” “Nah, he’s been great. You’ve done a really good job training him. Most people treat their dogs like little fur-covered people.” “Raider helped me out on a case or two before I moved here. If he couldn’t obey orders, people could’ve gotten killed.” Straightening, he looked around until his gaze settled on the way to the kitchen. “Am I staying in the same room?” “Yep. Hopefully, this time around you’ll have a better time in there.” They trooped back into the kitchen, and Raider followed Brendan into the bedroom, leaving Jeremy alone. He dished up the food, careful to fill Brendan’s plate with a hearty amount. He almost started laughing as he set the plate down—the situation wasn’t the least bit funny, but it was absurd. This was the most domestic he had ever been, and he wasn’t sure if it suited him. Until Brendan returned and made a beeline for the table, his eyes wide and appreciative. Jeremy eased into the seat opposite him, trying to hide his sudden awkward shyness. He cleared his throat. “So…how is the case going? Are there any leads? Would Mike share if there were?” “It’s not, no, and no.” Brendan had his fork and spoon in hand, using the latter to help wind spaghetti around the tines. “I’ve been after him for the past two days, trying to get him to tell me anything. The only reason I know it’s not going well is because I can read Chief. The worse a case is, the grumpier he gets.” He shoveled a big bite into his mouth and almost immediately 37

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groaned, his eyes drifting shut. “Oh, my God, this is so good,” he said around his food. Jeremy crinkled his eyes. “It’s just spaghetti. With sauce from a jar. Though it is Paul Newman’s brand. Only the best for my guest, that’s what I always say.” Brendan swallowed and smiled. A distinct flush had risen in his cheeks. “I spent five days on cheese sandwiches and water, then went into the hospital with Jell-O and instant mashed potatoes. Trust me. This tastes like heaven.” “The guy fed you?” “When he remembered. Whenever I thought he’d finally forgotten about it, he’d show up with those damn sandwiches. I think he only gave me the water to choke them down.” “That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” Jeremy twirled his fork in the pasta. “Though I guess he probably never intended for you to die.” “No, I don’t think he did.” All humor was gone from Brendan’s eyes. Reliving the events that had brought them together clearly darkened his thoughts. “I think he did exactly what he intended to do. Until I escaped. The question is why.” Jeremy shook his head, a little sorry he had pressed. He didn’t want to make Brendan relive painful memories. On the other hand, he doubted very much that the memories were every far from Brendan’s mind. “What about the tat? Are you going to be able to get it removed?” “Not any time soon.” He speared a bite of salad, the tines tearing through the lettuce from the force. “It’s evidence.” Jeremy grimaced. “I’m sorry. That must be…well, it’s terrible.” He took a deep breath, unsure where to steer the conversation next. Unsure if he should even say anything at all. 38

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“So who all knows you’re staying here?” “Chief, Mazursky, and Stowe. We decided to keep it just between us for now. Everybody else has been told I’m taking a leave of absence to recuperate. Even the shrink they made me talk to in the hospital.” He paused, his dark gaze earnest. “Is that all right? It means I can’t go into town for supplies or anything. But I can make up for it around here. Cleaning and cooking and laundry. Whatever you need.” Jeremy swept his hand widely around the room. “Consider this your home while you’re here. Do anything that makes you comfortable. If that means cleaning, that’s fine. If that means spending the day playing with Raider, that’s fine, too. But you don’t need to do anything. I’m just glad I can help you out.” The corner of Brendan’s mouth lifted as he turned back to his meal. “And I still haven’t figured why that is yet. But I will. Eventually.” As he watched Brendan smile, Jeremy knew the answer. Not that he could ever volunteer the information. He was quite certain that a man like Brendan—a cop no less—would not appreciate if Jeremy made a pass. Just because he really liked Brendan’s smile, he desperately wanted to keep Brendan safe, and he was impressed with the way Brendan was handling a very scary situation, didn’t mean he would jeopardize their growing friendship. “I don’t doubt it. You’re not the sort to leave mysteries unsolved.” The observation hit another nerve as Brendan slowed in his chewing. Jeremy chastised himself for the lapse, but this time, the reaction in Brendan was different. Rather than downcast, he seemed contemplative, which softened his fine features even more. “Chief still refuses to let me work the case,” he said. “He’s 39

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pissed enough we have to put off the counseling until he’s got the case under control. But I think you should know, I don’t plan to stop my own investigation. I’m not going to do anything that’ll put you in danger, but since I’m under your roof, you should be aware of it.” Jeremy swallowed, not worried about his own safety. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going back to where I was held, for starters. I know the team has already been over it, but maybe being back there will spark some memory for me. Something that’ll help me figure out who could’ve done this to me.” “I don’t think you should go alone.” Though Brendan didn’t stop chewing, his gaze fixed on Jeremy for the seconds it took him to swallow. “I was planning on taking Raider,” he said slowly. “But something tells me, that’s not what you’re talking about.” “No. Look, going back to that place could trigger a memory that will help you figure all this shit out. Or it could trigger some other sort of memory. The…scars might not all be physical. And you said yourself, you haven’t had a chance to really talk to a professional about all this to help you process it. If something happens, I don’t want you to be stuck there alone.” Carefully, Brendan set down his fork and reached across the table to cover Jeremy’s hand. He squeezed it once—warm, solid— then let it go, all too quickly to Jeremy’s mind. “I appreciate that you’re worried about me. I do. If I needed any kind of proof about what kind of a guy you are, that’s it. And I know you saw me at my absolute worst. Things were bad that night I escaped. Real bad. I know that. But I’ve been a cop for ten years. Until I moved here, all I did was undercover work. I’ve seen 40

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some bad shit. I’m not going to fall apart walking into an empty house.” Jeremy wasn’t going to be put off. “But there’s a difference between witnessing bad shit and experiencing bad shit. You must know that, since you have been a cop for ten years. Besides…you can think of it as humoring me.” “I could tell Chief you’re interfering with an investigation.” “So could I.” Brendan laughed at that. “I’m starting to think you have a secret desire to be a cop, the way you keep wanting to help.” He had a secret desire for a cop, which was a vastly different thing. “Maybe I just like mysteries, too. I’m faced with them on a daily basis. Animals can be very tricky patients.” “Now, see, from what I heard, you speak every animal language there is.” There was a twinkle in his eye, the same one that had been there upon his arrival, the one that had captivated him at the hospital before he’d learned about Gilda’s murder. “You’ve got quite the reputation in town.” “I dazzle them by being the only vet within thirty miles. They sort of have to love me. Until some new guy comes in and starts poaching my patients.” Jeremy pushed a lettuce leaf around his plate. “I get animals, though. They make a hell of a lot more sense to me than their owners ever do.” “Oh, I don’t know about that. You seem to have gotten me easily enough.” Though the words were innocent, Jeremy’s senses sharpened at the unintentional promise behind them. “Have I?” “I think so. You’re the only person who hasn’t given me hell about wanting to follow up on this psycho. Even Chief’s wife laid into me.” 41

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“Oh, well, it’s clear to me that you’d do it whether I gave you hell or not. But this psycho is the perfect example of what I’m talking about. What could possibly motivate him? When I’m treating a dog, and it snaps at me, that tells me that the animal is either frightened or under stress. I do my best to neutralize that, and generally, the dog will calm right down. But some guy snaps and…how do you explain that?” “Honestly? Most of the time, it’s those very same reasons. Or anger. A lot of the guys who end up behind bars are pissed off about something.” “So, Detective Wheeler, maybe we’ve got to figure out who you’ve pissed off in the past ten years or so.” That brought another bark of laughter. “I worked undercover narcotics for six of those. That’s a long fucking list.” “That’s what I figured. But maybe you could narrow it down?” Jeremy shrugged. “People who were artists, people who liked cheese sandwiches, people who used tranqs, people who would be out of jail by now.” “Maybe I could.” His smile was the warmest Jeremy had ever seen it. “But not right now. I’d rather get to know my host a little bit better first, if that’s okay.” “I guess it depends on what you want to know.” “You’d keep secrets from a cop who likes to solve mysteries? That’s either incredibly stupid, or very brave. Somehow I tagged you for the latter.” “Try me.” Jeremy grinned. “We’ll see what secrets I’d try to keep from you.” “Okay. What do you do when you’re not working?” “It’s hard to define when I’m not working, because I’m technically always on call. I’m careful not to wander too far away. 42

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But when I do venture out of the office and away from the house, I like to go down to the lake.” “Well, that explains it.” “That explains what?” “Why you’re in such good shape. When I’m not on duty, I’m at the gym. And I’ve never seen you there, which means you had to do something else to stay fit.” “It’s exactly three and a half miles around that lake, but given all the weird dips and bogs and how muddy it gets, it feels more like ten miles.” Jeremy paused as Brendan’s words finally filtered through his mind. Brendan noticed how fit he was? He’s probably just referring to the fact I practically carried him into the house. “Do I get to ask questions of you, or is this more of a one-way thing?” “Ask away.” He regarded Jeremy through his lashes as he added, “Just remember I worked undercover a long time. I might be inclined to make something up, just to make it sound more interesting.” “I doubt a guy who worked undercover in narcotics would even need to make something up to keep things interesting.” “You’d be surprised. My fantasy life is usually way more interesting than my real one. In my real one, I’m too busy catching up on sleep, working out, or playing with Raider to do anything else.” “Surprise me, then. Tell me something interesting about your fantasy life.” Brendan seemed to weigh the question with more seriousness than Jeremy expected. After another bite of his spaghetti, a bite that had his mouth lingering delectably on his fork, he said, “I almost got married once. Her dad was a runner we could never get 43

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the goods on. We got as far as the rehearsal dinner before I got bailed out.” Jeremy leaned forward. “Would you have gone through with the actual wedding?” “If I had to. I would’ve hated every second of it, but if that was the only way to get the collar, then yeah.” “Does that sort of single-minded devotion find its way to other aspects of your life?” “Well, you’ve seen me with Raider. What do you think?” “I think that it probably does.” Jeremy smiled. “Is that the only time you found yourself threatened with a wedding ring?” “Yes. Thank God.” “So you’re not the marrying kind?” He wasn’t sure what the line that momentarily appeared between Brendan’s brows really meant. “There’s not really any place for women of any kind in my…lifestyle.” Jeremy didn’t know why he didn’t just let the subject drop. But instead of exploring some other avenue of Brendan’s life, he said, “But all the other cops in the precinct are married, aren’t they?” “Yeah.” He studiously looked down at his plate as he twisted more spaghetti onto his fork. “But then again, they’re all straight, too.” The world lurched sideways, and the tips of Jeremy’s ears burned. Brendan hadn’t really just said what he thought he said…had he? Except he still worked at his food like it was the most important thing in the world, and a faint color had risen in his cheeks, so yes, he probably had, which meant Jeremy’s secret desire had just taken on a whole new dimension. “Oh. I think my gaydar might need a bit of adjustment. I didn’t suspect…at all.” Jeremy couldn’t help a small laugh. “Maybe 44

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that’s why I haven’t been on a date in months.” There was no denying the new gleam in Brendan’s eyes when he looked up. “Really? Because this kind of felt like a date to me. Even though I wasn’t sure if my instincts were on the fritz, too.” “A date? You think this is a date? I…” Jeremy fell silent as he rewound the conversation in his mind and played it back. “Oh. This is like a date. I hadn’t really planned to make it one…do you mind?” Brendan’s brows shot up. “Are you kidding? Unless that’s going to make it too weird with me staying here. In which case, I’d rather find someplace else to stay.” That was the last thing Jeremy wanted. He shook his head, surprisingly casual. “Doesn’t make it weird for me. I mean, it kind of makes it convenient, doesn’t it? No awkward conversations later about your place or mine.” “No, we just get your bed or m…” The word trailed off, his cheeks now turning red. “I did not just say that.” Jeremy chuckled. “You did just say that. But we wouldn’t have that discussion, either. My bed is bigger than the one in the guest room.” “Big beds are not always better. Smaller beds force you closer.” “I prefer to have enough room to really make things interesting.” The fact that Brendan’s embarrassed blush didn’t fade right away charmed Jeremy, especially now that he knew he could be charmed by it. “Does Chief know you’re gay?” he asked. “Because now I’m starting to wonder if he had ulterior motives in agreeing to this arrangement for us.” Jeremy laughed. “No. I mean, I’m not really in the closet, but I 45

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doubt that Mike would have had the chance to find that out.” “Well, that’s a relief. I prefer thinking my boss isn’t actively considering my sex life as a means of distracting me.” He scooped up the last of his spaghetti, a smile playing on his lips. “Though if he had been, I would’ve had to give him props for having fantastic taste.” It was Jeremy’s turn to flush, apparently. “Even if he had, it would have been misguided. I doubt even your sex life would distract you for very long.” “Considering that would require me to actually have a sex life…” With a satisfied sigh, Brendan set his fork down on his empty plate and pushed it a few inches away. “That was great. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Maybe I’ll try something more fancy tomorrow night.” Jeremy grimaced. “Or maybe I won’t. I keep the office open until eight on Wednesday and Thursday nights. Which means you’re going to be left to your own devices.” “I think I’ll manage. Doctors said I should take it easy anyway, so I brought my laptop so I could go over all my old cases. See if anything jumped out at me.” Jeremy stood and stretched his back. “Great. I’ll stop somewhere tomorrow to pick something up. Just email me with what you feel like.” He had the feeling their next dinner would end up looking like a date, too. The thought made him smile widely as he began gathering the dirty dishes from the table. He wouldn’t forget exactly why Brendan was staying with him, but he couldn’t ignore their growing, albeit unexpected connection, either.

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CHAPTER 5 Why Gilda? That was the key. Brendan was convinced that if he could answer that question, he would have the means to find the psycho responsible for all of it. The report Chief had given him on the young woman had been next to useless. She was the youngest of four, the only one left in town to help run the family-owned Coffeeberry. Graduated from the high school in the middle of her class, tried a semester at the community college before switching to full-time at the café. Dated regularly but never anyone more than a few times. Knew just about everybody in town. Everybody, that is, except Brendan. The picture Chief had included was of a pretty girl, but not one 47

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Brendan could say he’d seen before. He wasn’t a big coffee drinker, and he really didn’t socialize all that much outside of work, so even though Chief was surprised at his lack of recognition, Brendan wasn’t. What bothered him was the sheer randomness of it. His captor had gone to a lot of trouble to plan his crime, to drug Brendan, and then to tattoo the details of it onto his back. That suggested methodical thinking. Someone who wouldn’t kill without rhyme or reason. If he could ferret out the connection, he’d understand how the psycho thought. Or what he hoped to gain from the crimes. It would be a hell of a lot easier to find his identity with that kind of information, especially since forensic evidence was sorely lacking. Mazursky was convinced it had to be an outsider. In his opinion, the shock expressed by her family and close friends was genuine. Brendan trusted Mazursky’s gut, but he wouldn’t dismiss anyone until he had solid alibis in hand. Or rather, until Chief had alibis in hand. When he got tired of trying to find out where he fit in Gilda’s unremarkable life, he read through old case files, looking for commonalities with the town, with her, with tattoos, with anything. In two days of searching, he found exactly nothing. He put calls out to find out who might have been released from jail, or if anybody had been heard making threats toward him, but by Friday afternoon, he’d only heard from a handful of his contacts. Pushing back from his seat at the kitchen table, Brendan rolled his neck. He was dying for a good stretch, maybe a couple of hours on some weight machines, but his back wasn’t quite ready for that kind of exertion yet. It no longer felt like he was being backed into a giant blowtorch, but any time the skin got pulled, the familiar burn returned. He was lucky so far, though. No scabbing had 48

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occurred, and the swelling looked minimal from what he could tell holding a handheld mirror in front of the full-length one in the bathroom. He couldn’t take a shower yet, but Jeremy’s cleanings in the morning and evening were a more than acceptable substitute. Thoughts of Jeremy were a welcome distraction. Gorgeous, warm, funny Jeremy. Brendan still wasn’t entirely convinced Chief knew about his orientation, but at this point, he didn’t care. The more time they spent together, the more Brendan liked him. That hadn’t been all that much the past couple days, considering Jeremy’s extended hours at the office, but both nights, he had come home smiling and willing to sit on the couch with Brendan with a cup of coffee while they caught up on the time spent apart. Talking. Flirting. Occasionally touching a knee or a hand. Brendan hadn’t been this attracted to a guy since leaving his undercover narcotics work behind. From the way Jeremy’s gaze lingered on him when they said good night, Jeremy was under the same kind of spell. Brendan closed his laptop and carried it into the guest room, stowing it away for the night. This would be their first real evening spent together since that spaghetti dinner, and the case was taking a backseat for a few hours while Brendan enjoyed Jeremy’s company. He’d done most of the prep for tacos after lunch. All he had left was shredding the chicken. Even that was done by the time he heard Raider barking. The sound of a car approaching immediately followed. Brendan knew Jeremy worked hard, and he expected the other man to look beat by the time he made it home from a long week. But he was smiling as he opened the door, and he greeted Raider with a friendly scratch behind his ears. “Well, boy, it’s sure nice to be greeted at the door every day.” 49

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Leaning against the edge of the wall, Brendan devoured the sight of him. The next time Jeremy went down to the lake for one of his power swims, Brendan was going to make sure he was there to watch. The mental image of those muscles slicing through the water, and that bitable ass encased in swim trunks, sent a surge of sheer lust through Brendan’s veins. “So why doesn’t the vet have a pet of his own?” he asked, trying to divert the runaway train of his thoughts. “All the hours at the office?” “I’m between pets right now. A lot of people think it’s acceptable to just abandon their dogs and cats at my door, or in my office. Chances are, I’ll acquire a new pet sooner or later.” Jeremy straightened. “How has your day been?” “Quiet. Too quiet. I’m not used to sitting so long without really accomplishing anything.” He nodded back toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I’ve got a taco bar, bursting at the seams.” “I’m starving, and that sounds perfect. Do you mind if I shower first?” The request brought back the picture of a wet Jeremy emerging from the water. Brendan swallowed against the sudden dryness of his throat and nodded. “That’ll give me time to set the table. What do you want to drink?” “It’s the end of a very long week. I think a few cold beers sounds just about perfect.” “Coming right up.” Brendan fled to the safety of the kitchen and tried not to imagine Jeremy stripping out of his clothes on the way to the bathroom. He wasn’t so naïve not to know that with alcohol in their systems, they might end up acting on their attraction, but with the possibility looming so close now, he was oddly nervous. 50

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Excited, but nervous. He liked Jeremy outside of anything physical. The last thing he wanted was to fuck that up. Plates were out and beers in place when Jeremy emerged from his shower. His flawless skin practically glowed, and Brendan buried his hot face in the refrigerator as he dug out the rest of the condiments. “Everything’s ready whenever you are.” “Oh, I’m…I’m ready.” Jeremy took a deep breath, and by the time Brendan straightened and turned around, he was taking tortillas out of the warmer. He didn’t speak as he piled the plate with food, and Brendan watched as he very carefully constructed each taco. His long fingers worked with a deft precision that was perfect for his profession. “Everything looks great.” “This is one of the few things I can fix without messing it up.” Brendan followed behind Jeremy, though he realized almost right away what a mistake that was. Jeremy had changed into loosefitting sweats that showcased how taut his ass really was. Christ. This was going to be the longest dinner ever. “Plus, if I have everything ready, it doesn’t matter how tired I am after a shift.” “That makes sense. You’re a smart guy.” Jeremy sat at the table and reached for his beer. “Smart, handsome, decent cook.” He took a long swallow. “I don’t know what else I could ask for in a houseguest.” Brendan was grateful to take the seat perpendicular to Jeremy’s, their knees touching lightly beneath the table. “I’ll remember that when we’re traipsing through that house tomorrow morning. You might change your mind about all that when you’re wading through cobwebs and I’m barking orders at you.” “Does Mike have that house guarded? It seems like he might want to keep an eye on it.” 51

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Brendan shrugged. “Just random drive-bys. We don’t have the manpower for anything more than that. But tomorrow’s our best chance not to get noticed. Saturdays are busier in general. It’s going to be harder for Chief to send somebody around there.” “I still intend to go with you, and I don’t want to seem like a coward, but…what if the psycho in question has the same thought about Saturday?” Reminders of the danger involved made it easier to keep his libido in check. But the fact that Jeremy was smart enough to realize there even was danger just made him more irresistible. “I’m going in armed. He’s not going to get the chance to get the drop on me again.” Jeremy nodded. “As long as you’re prepared for that eventuality. And we’ll have Raider on our side, so that’s something.” He licked a bit of salsa from his finger, attracting Brendan’s attention to the color and texture of his tongue. “I’m used to being in charge, but I don’t mind the occasional barked order.” The implication hung heavy between them. Brendan swallowed a mouthful of beer as he tried not to squirm in his seat. His mouth was still dry when he set the bottle down. “You’ve got my word that when we’re in your playground, I’ll do anything you say.” He winked as he turned to his food. “I might be bucking Chief’s authority, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to heel when the time’s right.” “Oh, that’s an interesting thought.” Jeremy flashed a teasing smile—a smile that lit up his eyes. “You in a leash.” The flirting was fun—God, was it fun—but they had been doing this all week. Innuendo after innuendo until he ended up jerking off before he could fall asleep. And then jerking off again 52

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in the morning because all he’d dreamt about was Jeremy. He didn’t want to jerk off anymore. Or at least, he didn’t want to do it alone. Brendan took a deep breath. “Well, if you were the one asking, I can’t say I’d say no.” Jeremy’s eyes widened, and though the smile remained on his face, the teasing light had dimmed. “I’d only put you in a leash so I could get you where I want you. And I have the feeling, though I could be wrong about this, that you’d follow me without a leash.” “No,” he said softly. “You’re not wrong.” Jeremy sucked his breath in sharply. “Sometimes, you make it really hard for me to concentrate on dinner.” “Well…the nice thing about tacos is that everything keeps, no matter how long you wait to eat.” His heart pounded so loudly, he was sure Jeremy could hear it. “If you did my back now, we could get that out of the way and have the rest of the night, just for us. We can eat whenever we want then.” “Yeah.” He took a swallow from his beer, then stood and offered his hand. “How has your back been feeling? Is it still really tender?” It felt a little odd entwining his fingers with Jeremy’s, but once he was on his feet, Brendan knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be. “It’s better. I can go whole minutes now without feeling like I fell asleep in the sun for a week.” “That’s good. You know how much I hate hurting you.” Jeremy led him into the bathroom and watched as Brendan pulled the loose-fitting garment over his head. By now, they had the entire process down pat. Brendan faced the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink, while Jeremy positioned himself behind him with the bar of soap. He pulled the clear wrap from his back, exposing 53

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the raw skin to the air. And to Jeremy’s careful touch. He washed his hands before working up a gentle lather. His fingers were feather light. Brendan was almost painfully aware of each second of contact, but Jeremy never let his hands stray. He washed every inch of the fresh tattoo thoroughly, with an almost professional dedication. Brendan waited until he caught Jeremy’s eyes in the mirror. “How does it look?” “Good. Well, as horrible as ever. But besides that, good.” “It doesn’t repulse you?” “It repulses me that somebody could hurt you like this. Could make you live with…this horrible reminder. But I’m not repulsed by you.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “You do realize this means I get to be on top, right?” “That’s occurred to me. Many, many times. The only thing is…” Jeremy leaned over and turned on the water, rinsing his hands before reaching for a clean towel. “I could never quite decide what you were doing while on top.” Even though Jeremy was careful, the dabbing of the towel to wipe away the soap was the most painful part of the whole procedure. Brendan gripped the edge of the sink, though he refused to let his smile fade. “Because you didn’t know what I’d prefer, or you couldn’t make up your mind what you wanted?” “Both. Though mostly the latter.” His free hand drifted down to Brendan’s ass. The light squeeze made him jump. “Today I’ve been strangely preoccupied with your ass.” Brendan chuckled. “So I guess it’s safe to finally admit I’ve been obsessed with yours since my first night here, huh?” “Absolutely.” He set the towel aside and reached for the bottle 54

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of lotion. “In fact, you should keep thinking about it. It’ll distract you from how cold this is going to feel.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say the rest of the treatment was a cakewalk, but then the first slick drops of the lotion hit his heated skin and Brendan had to duck his head to steel against the searing ache that shot across his shoulders. It probably wouldn’t have been as bad if every inch of him wasn’t on fire for want of Jeremy, but it was too late to rein any of that in, even if he wanted to. He was breathing through his mouth to regulate the pain when Jeremy covered his back again with clean Saran Wrap. “I am going to be very glad when I don’t look like someone’s lunch anymore,” he said. “This will be healed soon,” Jeremy promised, smoothing long pieces of tape over in place. “It won’t be long before you don’t feel it at all.” He caught Brendan’s gaze through the mirror. Without looking away, he leaned forward and gently pressed his mouth to Brendan’s shoulder. “Promise.” He might not feel it, but he’d know it was there. The brand went farther than skin deep. Releasing his death grip on the sink, Brendan straightened and turned around. Jeremy didn’t step back. Their lower bodies were almost perfectly aligned; all it took was Brendan’s hand on Jeremy’s hip to graze their erections against each other. “See? I told you, you wouldn’t need a leash.” Jeremy moved closer, letting his chest press against Brendan’s. His T-shirt was thin, and the heat from his skin warmed Brendan further. “I told a small lie earlier. It’s not just your ass that I’ve been thinking about. Your mouth has been an equally major concern.” 55

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For a moment, he simply breathed in the clean scent of Jeremy’s skin. “I’m starting to feel a little guilty about your patients.” He tilted his head, letting his lips skim over Jeremy’s, groaning slightly at the slight tingle it produced. “It’s not very fair to them if you spend all your time thinking of me.” “None of them have complained yet, fortunately.” Jeremy’s other hand cupped the back of Brendan’s neck, holding him lightly as their mouths touched again. A small brush of contact wouldn’t be enough for either of them, and Brendan parted his mouth as soon as Jeremy’s tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip. He tasted the beer and salsa, cold and tangy mingling together as Jeremy took the initiative and swept inside. Brendan clutched Jeremy’s hip, already itching to slide his hand around and feel the taut muscle of his ass. Jeremy might not be sure of what he wanted, but Brendan didn’t see any reason they couldn’t both get a ride. His cock, especially, loved that particular plan. “God…” Jeremy gasped for air, but immediately sought out Brendan’s mouth again. Brendan’s mouth tingled, and every second of the kiss heightened his hunger. “We need…” Brendan didn’t find out what they needed, because he didn’t give Jeremy a chance to finish his thought. With a low moan, Jeremy shuffled backward, pulling Brendan with him. Without ending the caress, he led Brendan to the attached bedroom. The world blurred around every edge that wasn’t Jeremy. Those were sharp, real, flexing beneath his fingers with a heat that eclipsed anything he had ever felt in his back. He could step away and mold Jeremy’s body out of the air with crystal clarity, he thought. But he didn’t want to step away. That would mean stopping. That would mean ending the long, exploratory kisses that made the muscle in his left calf tremble. 56

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They only parted when they reached the edge of the bed. “Hey, what about our argument about my bed or yours?” he teased breathlessly. “Tie goes to the closest bed,” Jeremy assured him. “Cheater.” Jeremy dragged his fingers down Brendan’s chest, stopping at his belt. “Do you want to walk clear over to the other side of the house?” “Not really, no.” He tugged Brendan’s belt free and unzipped his pants. The first scrape of his fingernails over Brendan’s shaft made him gasp. “That’s what I thought.” “I still think it’s cheating,” Brendan muttered, but then his mouth was back on Jeremy’s, his hands digging into that round ass he’d been drooling over for days. The way Jeremy’s hand tightened around his cock cemented his desire to fuck the man first. He’d ride Jeremy once they both caught their second wind. Then he’d do whatever he could to make sure there was a third and fourth wind after that. Jeremy dragged his mouth from Brendan’s, leaving hard, wet kisses on his jaw and his throat. The occasional scrape of teeth sent hot jolts down his spine, but it was Jeremy’s hands that really made him flush with pleasure. His fingers worked past Brendan’s underwear, seeking out his already dripping cock. “You gonna fuck me?” Jeremy asked, each word a hot mark against his skin. “God, yes…” Though it took every ounce of control he had, Brendan peeled away from Jeremy’s hard body to push his jeans down and kick them off. Jeremy’s eyes grew even darker at Brendan’s nudity, his 57

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nostrils flaring when Brendan reached for him again. This time, he went straight for the elastic waistband on the sweats, yanking them down and out of his way. Jeremy’s thick cock bobbed into view, the tip glistening with pre-come. Brendan’s mouth watered, and his ass clenched. “And you are definitely fucking me before the night is done, too,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You won’t need to tell me twice,” Jeremy murmured, before putting his mouth to Brendan’s body again. This time, he moved lower, his lips blazing a path down Brendan’s chest as he sank to his knees. He exhaled, blowing warm air across the tip of Brendan’s cock, and it jerked in response. His tongue darted out, catching a drop of pre-come, and his eyes closed with obvious desire. Brendan tried to form some kind of coherent response. He did. His mouth opened, and his throat worked, but all that came out was a choked groan. His hands clutched at Jeremy’s shoulders, as if the ballast he provided would be enough to force the exclamation out. That didn’t work either. That only prompted Jeremy to open his mouth wider and suck the tip past his full lips. Jeremy groaned, and he gripped Brendan’s ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he swallowed more of Brendan’s length. His cheeks hollowed, and his tongue circled the shaft as he moved his head lower. Jeremy’s lips stretched around his width, until he reached the base. He held still for a moment—just long enough to make Brendan gasp—and then pulled back, letting the length slip from his mouth. Brendan hauled Jeremy back to his feet and knocked him onto the bed, toppling forward to pin him to the mattress. The sudden motion jarred his back, but he ignored the pain in favor of 58

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devouring Jeremy’s mouth again, their hips jerking as their cocks now rubbed against each other without the restriction of clothing. Jeremy opened to the onslaught with the same hunger. He kissed like he’d been starved for it for weeks. It amazed Brendan to think they had only been in such close proximity for a matter of a few days. Jeremy moved beneath him, his ridged stomach creating more friction against Brendan’s cock, smearing the pre-come against his skin. He responded by rolling his hips, forcing more contact between his length and Jeremy’s flesh, and sending long ribbons of pleasure from his groin to his throat. The way Jeremy moaned made Brendan curious about how he would sound when Brendan finally had his cock buried in his eager body. It didn’t escape his notice how careful Jeremy was not to touch his back. It would have been simple. Being on the bottom, his natural instinct would have been to clutch at Brendan’s shoulders, or to wrap his arms around him. Jeremy did neither. He focused his hands lower, on Brendan’s ass or along his sides. Callused fingertips squeezed and caressed, then squeezed again when Brendan chose a new spot of skin to attack with his mouth. Each touch came with a new sound—a moan, a whimper, an uttered word. When the weight of them became too much for Brendan to withstand, he lifted his head and gazed down at Jeremy, panting with desire. “Where do you keep everything?” He didn’t want to get started only to have to jerk everything to a halt because they forgot protection first. “Just under the bed. I’ll get it.” Brendan put a firm hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, holding him down to the bed as he leaned over to fumble blindly for the box of 59

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condoms. Jeremy distracted himself by touching Brendan more, his hand sneaking between their bodies to cup his balls, pulling them with a light squeeze. Brendan moaned, faltering as Jeremy tightened his fingers. He immediately soothed the heat with light strokes, but that did not help Brendan’s concentration. He dropped the lube more than once before both that and the condoms were on the bed next to them. “You’re not making this very easy,” he said, his voice ragged. Jeremy smiled, rather charmingly. “Wasn’t trying to.” Brendan cocked a brow. “Just for that, I should make you wait.” “You could do that. But then you’d have to wait, too.” He skimmed his palm across the tip of Brendan’s cock. “And I don’t think you want to do that.” “I’ve been jerking off for two days over you.” Brendan propped himself up on his knuckles, separating their bodies with inches he was sure they both felt. His free hand reached down and grasped Jeremy’s wrist, twisting his arm over his head, while he nudged Jeremy’s thighs apart with his knee. “I could just do that again tonight.” Jeremy lifted his hips, his wet crown dragging across Brendan’s balls. “That’s big talk. But jerking off won’t be enough for you tonight.” No, it wouldn’t, but Brendan wasn’t done playing yet. “And what about you?” Using his grip on Jeremy’s wrist instead to hold him up, he reached down and slid his fingers between the warm valley of the man’s ass. He went straight to the clenching hole, tracing it with his fingers. “You been doing any jerking off of your own?” Jeremy pushed against Brendan’s hand—an answer to his 60

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question in and of itself. “A couple of times a day. I try to pretend my hand is your mouth.” Brendan ducked his head, turning at the last minute to skim his lips along Jeremy’s jaw. “My mouth is better,” he murmured. Carefully, he pushed the tip of his index finger into Jeremy’s channel. “Especially when it’s got a cock as delicious as yours in it.” Jeremy relaxed his muscles, allowing Brendan to guide his finger even deeper. He moaned softly, the ring contracting around Brendan’s knuckle. “Right now…I’m more interested in your delicious cock.” Chuckling, Brendan sucked at the tight muscle of Jeremy’s neck, lower and lower to the harder line of his shoulder. “I kind of got that impression.” He twisted his hand, then pulled back to allow two fingers to push inside next. “We’ll just have to add blow job to the to do list for the rest of the night.” “It sounds like we’re going to have a late night. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday.” His head dropped back, exposing the column of his throat as he gasped for breath. “I’m really ready for you to fuck me.” He would have been more than content to have longer to prep Jeremy, but the breathless confession undid his resolve. Sitting back on his heels, Brendan plucked a condom from the box and tore it open, rolling it over his aching cock. The slight brush against his balls made him shudder, but the knowing twinkle in Jeremy’s eye only prompted him to hurry with the lube. “Still ready?” He covered Jeremy’s body again, slick fingers returning to his ass to coat the muscle. His shoulders were starting to ache a little from the constant up and down, but he shoved the discomfort aside for the satisfaction he knew lay ahead. 61

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Jeremy didn’t answer immediately. His walls clenched around Brendan’s fingers, and he rocked with Brendan, fucking himself on his hand. His throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned, and Brendan noticed his skin already glistened with sweat. Brendan ducked his head and swiped his tongue along the ridge of his shoulder, tasting salt and soap. “Still ready.” Brendan withdrew his fingers and grasped his cock at the base. Angling it downward, he nudged the tip against Jeremy’s opening, pleased when Jeremy lifted his hips in order to make it easier. He pressed forward, slowly, carefully, not just because he didn’t want to hurt Jeremy but also to savor the sensations, the heat gripping him with each successive inch he buried inside the man’s tight passage. He had to stop and fight for breath when he was fully sheathed. “Fuck,” he muttered. His brow rested on Jeremy’s, his lungs seizing with every inhalation. “Okay, waiting would have definitely been a terrible idea.” “Yes, a terrible idea.” His hands went directly to Brendan’s ass, fingers digging into the flesh to hold him in place, deep in Jeremy’s channel. He flexed around Brendan’s length, and electricity swept up his spine. “But this…this is a brilliant idea.” The best idea ever, actually. Brendan didn’t want to move. He didn’t think he could. The heat was overwhelming, the constricting muscles even more so. Jeremy didn’t seem in any hurry for him to move, either, and when he tilted his head in search of Brendan’s lips, Brendan didn’t falter. Their mouths fused together, tongues delving deep. He thought he very well could stay like this all night if he had to. Part of him wanted that desperately. “You’re better than I even dreamed…” Jeremy murmured 62

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between kisses. “I want you to fuck me. Hard as you can.” Brendan smiled against his mouth. “You might have to settle for as hard as I can after I’ve fully healed.” Propping himself up, he pushed Jeremy’s leg up and out in order to give himself more room to pull back. His smile widened when he slammed forward again. “Though as much as I want this, I promise you’re going to feel it.” “Oh…yes…” Jeremy gripped the back of his thighs, just below his knees, holding himself open for Brendan. “Fuck…fuck…just like that.” He spoke every time Brendan slammed forward, encouraging and approving words. A slight change in the angle, and Brendan was able to stop the words, turning them into long moans—though the intent was obviously the same. His whole body responded to Brendan, twitching and clenching with each hard thrust. For all his fantasies about the good doctor, Brendan had never anticipated just how eager and responsive Jeremy would be. It was more than simple desire. It was raw, unmitigated lust. He wanted what Brendan had to offer, and he wasn’t going to hold back on how much he enjoyed it. Every sound he made, every flex of his muscles, surrounded Brendan’s senses, seducing him into driving even harder into the man’s clenching passage until his skin stung from how sharply they slapped against each other. He would not last long, at this rate. He wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long as he’d taunted anyway, not with how spare his sex life had been in recent months. But damn if he was going to shoot first. He gripped Jeremy’s cock, squeezing it first as he tore into the man’s hole. His thumbnail scraped along the slit, and Jeremy bucked off the bed, his head slamming into his pillow. “Brendan….Christ…don’t stop.” 63

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He didn’t intend to stop, but hearing the ragged need in Jeremy’s voice spurred him to stroke him faster. Jeremy arched farther off the bed, heat pouring off his body and consuming Brendan. The closer Brendan got to the edge, the harder he tugged on Jeremy’s throbbing cock. “I can’t…I can’t…” Jeremy grabbed the back of Brendan’s head and yanked him down, forcing their mouths together. His tongue demanded entry, and he plunged it deep in Brendan’s mouth as a shout erupted from him, his cock jerking hard, his ass clamping down on Brendan’s shaft. Brendan lost his tenuous grip on his control and exploded, ploughing deep into Jeremy’s channel. His head spun, and fresh pain ripped across his shoulder, but the fire racing through him elsewhere eclipsed it all. He clung to Jeremy’s arms, shaking from the force of his orgasm. When Jeremy finally let his mouth go, Brendan buried it in Jeremy’s neck. Jeremy smoothed his hand down Brendan’s ribs. “That was great.” His soft snort warmed their skin. “Understatement.” He licked along his slick collarbone, peeling away to see the come collecting delectably in white streaks on Jeremy’s dark stomach. “But we’re not done yet.” It ached to pull free of Jeremy’s ass, but his mouth watered too much to ignore the treat laid before him. Brendan dragged his tongue down Jeremy’s chest, cleaning away every trace of come he could find. Jeremy writhed beneath him, moving to meet Brendan’s lips. “You’re damned right we’re not done yet. I still want my turn at your ass.” Brendan smiled into the kiss. “You’re a greedy son of a bitch, 64

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aren’t you?” “I can be. Is that a problem?” “Not for me.” He set back to licking him clean. Jeremy wasn’t the only one who could be greedy. Not by a longshot.

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CHAPTER 6 Brendan had yet to see the house by the light of day. He knew the address—only because he’d given Chief hell about it until he’d given it up—but with his diligent research in those first couple days after moving into Jeremy’s, he hadn’t had time to check it out. Jeremy would have likely given him hell for going on his own if he’d tried anyway. The more time Brendan spent with him, the more he realized why the man was as good a vet as he was. He cared about his patients, yes, but he also had a firm hand in dealing with them. When he had a goal in mind, he became incredibly single-minded. The night before was the perfect example of that. His ass was still a little sore from the pounding he’d taken, but he was secretly pleased to see Jeremy walking a tad stiffly this 66

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morning, too, when they’d been getting ready to go. He hadn’t actually had the opportunity to ride the man’s cock, though. They had gone back to the kitchen to finish dinner, but when Brendan had started to clear the table, Jeremy pushed him over it, sinking to his knees to rim him before fucking him from behind. Poor Raider hadn’t known what to think. Now, both Brendan and Raider waited for Jeremy on the front porch while he took an emergency call from someone whose cat had gotten caught by the vacuum cleaner. The day was bright and cheerful, sunshine streaming through the trees in golden brilliance to help dry out the still soggy ground. It was the perfect day to nose around the house where he’d been held hostage. “Sorry,” Jeremy said, stepping onto the front porch. “I didn’t mean to take so long. But Mrs. Miller would not be convinced that my assistant is a very capable, intelligent person. She wants only the best for Mr. Fluffybottoms.” “I suppose refusing treatment on the basis anyone who gives their pet such a ridiculous name doesn’t deserve your attention would be a little rude, huh?” Jeremy chuckled. “Yes. Just a little. Especially when she sounds so distraught. The cat’s going to be fine, though I wish I could prescribe a Valium for poor Mrs. Miller.” He slid his shades on. “Are you ready?” “And willing.” Raider led the way to Jeremy’s truck. They had decided over breakfast it was better for Jeremy to drive. Not only did that give Brendan the chance to keep an eye out for any of his colleagues, but it gave them an excuse if they did get noticed. He hesitated before climbing in. “Last chance to change your mind.” 67

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“I’m not going to change my mind. Finding this guy is important to me, too.” Jeremy climbed into the truck and slammed the door behind him. “So I’m going to do what I can.” Brendan settled a little more deliberately into his seat. He had his gun tucked into a holster at his waist, a bulk he wasn’t entirely accustomed to. He normally wore a shoulder holster for it, but his back couldn’t take the rub of the leather strap along his skin. This felt awkward. He sincerely hoped he had no cause to use it. “Chief said the basement had been flooded out when they went to look at it last week,” he said as they pulled away from the house. “I’m going to check out that first. It might have dried out some by now.” “Do you want me to come down with you?” He cocked a brow, a smile playing on his lips. “You mean, you’re giving me a choice?” “I’d prefer to stick to your side like a shadow. But I don’t want to get in your way.” “Don’t worry. I won’t let you.” But Jeremy’s enthusiasm might prove unwieldy if things got tight. “I’ll probably go down alone, just to check it out. I’d prefer if you stuck with Raider, if that’s all right.” “Okay. I’ll stay, but I reserve the right to rush down if things get hinky.” Despite his words, he didn’t look entirely happy to agree. “Do you mind if I look around upstairs?” “Without me? Yes, I mind.” He held up a hand to cut off the argument. “Not because I don’t trust you, or I’m a control freak. Because it’s still a crime scene, and even if the guys have gone over it, I can’t afford something getting destroyed or disturbed that we might need.” “So, you want me to sit quietly in the truck with Raider, so I 68

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don’t get in the way and you don’t have to worry about me?” “That’s not what I said.” “Isn’t it?” His tone was sharper, evidence of his mild irritation. “You want me to stay with Raider, right? And you want me not go in the house, right?” “You can come in. I just don’t think it’s a great idea for you to look around on your own.” “Do you work with a partner?” “Sometimes.” The more they argued, the more closed off Jeremy’s features became. Brendan hated being the cause of it, but he’d already made concessions in agreeing to Jeremy coming in the first place. “Look. Think of it this way. Would you want me assisting you with anesthetizing a dog you had to operate on? No, because it’s not my field of expertise. This is what I do.” “Look, I’m not asking to come along because I think I can find something that the police, or you, somehow missed. I’m coming because Mike told you to stay away from the case, and I want you to have some sort of support.” “I know.” And he did. Jeremy had been a rock from the start, always giving when Brendan needed it most, never having to be asked or told what was necessary. He sighed. “All right, how ’bout this? We’ll stick together, cover the house from bottom to top. If I think I need to do something on my own, you agree to step back and let me do it, okay?” Jeremy cast a sideways glance and smiled. “Okay. I think that sounds fair enough.” With that settled, Brendan turned his attention out the window to try and keep an eye on other cars in the vicinity. The house was only a few miles away from Jeremy’s, but the roads that led to it were off the main drag, unpaved trails instead of regular 69

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thoroughfares. Every once in a while, he thought he recognized the shape of a tree, but he knew it was an illusion. It had been too dark, and he had been too out of his mind with pain, to be truly aware of his surroundings. The foliage grew thicker, blocking out the sky and dropping the temperature by discernible degrees within the truck. Jeremy turned onto the narrowest road of all and almost immediately stopped, blocked from going farther by a rusty gate across the path. This, Brendan remembered. He still had the gouge in his hip from where he’d run into the oxidized post in the dark. “Okay, I lied.” Brendan peered through windshield, then twisted to look at the road they’d just left. “This is your last chance to change your mind. I forgot how far back this was set. We’re not going to have much warning if somebody else shows up.” Jeremy turned the key, and they were plunged into silence except for the random click of the cooling engine. “I’m not going to change my mind. Are you going to change yours?” “Not in this lifetime.” Without the sun beating down on their heads, the air was ripe with the scent of wet earth and cool grass. Brendan assessed the dirt driveway before stepping around the gate. Mud tracks from all the cars that had been in and out obscured any definitive ownership. Chief hadn’t mentioned taking tire prints. How had his captor come and gone without leaving a trail? “Do you know anything about this area?” he asked Jeremy as they walked along the edge of the drive toward the hidden house. “Chief said this house hasn’t had an owner in a decade.” “No, the old guy who lived here last was a bit of a pack rat, apparently. And by that, I mean he was a compulsive hoarder. He had a heart attack and he managed to call for help, but the rescue 70

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personnel couldn’t find him in time. After he was buried, they managed to clean out most of the place, but it wouldn’t ever be livable again. The bank took over and it’s just been sitting out here, empty, ever since.” “Did he have any family that you know of?” “I don’t know. I do remember there was a bit of a scandal when nobody claimed the body. I was completely buried in my last year of school then, so I wasn’t paying too much attention. I got the sense they expected somebody to come up for him, but…he didn’t have much of a funeral.” He was sure Chief had already thought of it, but Brendan made a mental note to get the name of the previous owner. If there was a tie to anything at all in his old cases, that could be it. They rounded a curve in the drive, and there it was. Two stories of weather-beaten farmhouse, complete with wraparound porch and storm doors leading into the basement. Brendan’s gaze zeroed in on those immediately. That was how he’d gotten out. There was still a graze on his shoulder from where he’d launched himself at the doors in his effort to break free. Raider noticed his hesitation and dutifully stopped at his side. Brendan dropped a hand to the top of his head and fondled the softer hair along his ears as he quelled his suddenly raucous nerves. Jeremy gently gripped Brendan’s shoulder, the weight of his fingers solid and reassuring. He expected to hear something encouraging, but Jeremy just softly pushed him forward, giving Brendan the prompting he needed. He took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, focusing on the simple rhythm of walking to get up the stairs to the door. The entryway proved Jeremy’s story of the former owner. 71

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Boxes and newspapers were stacked haphazardly, but worse than that was the smell of a decade of neglect. Dirt, mold, and animal waste mingled under the heavier scent of age. “Pleasant place.” “I’m suddenly very glad Chief insisted on that tetanus shot.” “I think I’m going to insist on one for myself when we’re out of here. God, how did they manage to get evidence from here at all?” Brendan shook his head. He had no fucking clue. The place didn’t look like anybody had been through it at all. At least, not until he looked at the floor. There, footprints in the dust led away from the crowded front room and its stained, aging carpet, to a country kitchen with linoleum peeling away at the edges. Jeremy stayed close behind as Brendan stepped to the center of the kitchen and looked around. Though there was still clutter at the edges of the room, portions of the chipped counters had been cleared off, while the cupboards under the sink were dust-free. Pulling a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket, Brendan slipped them on as he crouched down. “I’ll bet they just looked at what was obviously used,” he said as he peered inside. Residual fingerprinting dust lingered on the unpolished wood. The pipes were rusted, but the sealant to the wall was still secure. Out of habit, Brendan tapped the pipe at random places along its length. He frowned when he hit a dull patch. When Brendan straightened and leaned over to try and look down the drain, Jeremy spoke up behind him. “What are you doing?” “Something’s in there.” Not that he could see it. “One of the first things you learn in narcotics is always check the plumbing. Idiots are always trying to flush away shit that gets stuck. I don’t 72

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think anybody checked this.” “With all due respect to your previous experience, could it just be…well…shit? This is an old house, after all.” “It could.” He glanced back. “But what if it’s not and I don’t look?” “I’ll just take Raider for a walk when you decide it’s time to take apart the ancient plumbing.” He couldn’t resist a smile. “Getting disillusioned with policework already?” “Just the part that may deal with the dried remains of backedup plumbing.” Jeremy crossed the room and gently nudged a partially closed door. A flight of steep, narrow stairs led almost straight down. “I think I found the basement.” His nerves went cold. The basement was where he was most likely to find evidence; he knew that. Suddenly, the last thing he wanted was to go down there. “Does the light switch work?” He pulled the flashlight from his belt anyway. He had the distinct feeling he was going to need it. “It does, but…” Jeremy peered into the darkness. “It doesn’t do much good.” He gestured toward the flashlight and held out his hand. “Do you want me to go down first?” Part of Brendan did, but he knew he wouldn’t admit it to Jeremy. He wasn’t used to feeling less than confident about a situation. He’d been an excellent undercover cop not because he could fake it with the best of them, but because he didn’t get shaken by surprises. The longer they stayed in the house, the more his skin crawled to get out of it. The only way to overcome that feeling was to face it head-on. “No. I’ve got this.” Jeremy stepped out of his way to let him descend the stairs. 73

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The creak from the very first one made ice run through his veins. He remembered that sound. He’d heard it every single time his captor returned to his tattooing. Brendan reminded himself that this time it was different. This time, the asshole wasn’t here, but Jeremy was. And he knew that Jeremy had no intention of leaving his side. The stairs continued to creak with their combined weight, each step becoming a threat. Brendan moved stiffly, descending with care until they finally reached the dirty floor. The yellow light above them cast long shadows over the walls and the high, stainless steel table. Brendan could feel the cold surface against his skin, and fresh shivers rolled down his spine. “He must have moved that down here,” Jeremy said from behind him. “I don’t think too many people keep tables like that in their basements.” Brendan swung his flashlight unerringly in the direction of the storm doors that led outside. Something had gouged long slices out of the wooden railing. Probably the edges of an inflexible table being hauled down the stairs by a single man. An inch of mucky water still covered the cement floor. Their footsteps sloshed as they circled the perimeter of the basement. “It’s a lot cleaner down here,” Brendan commented. “I guess I should be grateful for that.” “Whatever he wanted, it looks like his plan wasn’t to give you a horrible infection.” Jeremy wandered around the edge of the room. “Which makes sense. A horrible infection would have ruined his artwork.” Bile rose in Brendan’s throat. It burned when he swallowed it back down. “It’s hard to think of what he did as art.” 74

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“It is. It’s hard for me to think of it as art, too. But I’d bet he thinks he’s an artist.” Talking about it made his back itch, like it knew it was the subject of conversation. “That was the first thing I checked when I looked through all my old case files. To see if anyone I busted was a tattoo artist. But the two I came up with are still in prison, and the other names that popped up are definitely not the guy we’re looking for.” “What about people who weren’t tattoo artists when you busted them? You’ve been doing this a long time. You know any regular artists?” “Chief was still running my bust list to see if anybody was out, but so far, that’s brought back zilch. I did know a couple of other tattooists, but they aren’t who we’re looking for, either.” He finally summoned his courage to approach the table. The edges were sharp with holes drilled into the lip where his cuffs had been locked into place. Lucky for him. He’d been able to wear through the leather because of the metallic edge. “One was an older woman, and the other was the idiot kid brother of a pusher in Portland. They don’t fit our profile.” “Well, an older woman probably wouldn’t be able to drug you and cuff you to a table. But why doesn’t the other guy fit the profile?” “Because I’m not exaggerating when I call him an idiot.” Crouching down, he ran his flashlight along the edge of the table. He wasn’t sure why. The team would’ve been all over this to get any evidence that might remain. All Brendan knew was he had to look at the device that had kept him prisoner for so many days. “Dropped out of high school, got busted a few times for possession. Real stupid shit. I had to bail him out more than once 75

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when I was still maintaining cover. Besides, he was an apprentice when I knew him, and honestly, he just wasn’t that good at it.” “Okay. So maybe we should take a closer look at the old woman.” Jeremy crouched beside him. “I don’t know if there’s anything left here to find.” “No, probably not.” But Brendan couldn’t bring his knees to straighten. His gaze was fixed on one of the holes and a streak of dried blood that clung to the underside of the table. It was his. Someone had taken a sample, but he knew what the result was going to show them. The flashlight’s beam began to shake. “I didn’t realize how close I came to slitting my own wrist on this thing.” Jeremy took Brendan’s hand, absorbing his tremors and stilling the flashlight. “I know. It’s…it’s scary.” He tried to make Brendan straighten, but he refused to move. “I think we should go upstairs now.” “I’m not done.” “What else are you looking for?” “I don’t know. I just…” The trembling spread up his arm, creeping into his shoulder and along his neck. It closed his throat, making it more difficult to breathe, but he couldn’t find the strength to do anything about it. “How the hell did I get out of here in one piece? I should be dead right now.” “But you’re not.” Jeremy wrapped his arm around Brendan’s shoulders, and this time, he wouldn’t let him resist. But even when they were both standing straight, Brendan couldn’t look away from the table. “You got out of here in one piece because you’re stronger and smarter than this bastard gave you credit for.” Brendan didn’t believe him. Getting out was a fluke. The perseverance of a stubborn man. If he’d been a fraction of an inch 76

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off on the cuff, he would have slashed his own skin instead. Would his captor have let him bleed out? Would his captor even have been able to stop it? His gaze fell to the floor, to the ripples in the water around their shoes. His stomach heaved. He barely tore away from Jeremy in time to twist away and lose his breakfast in the corner. Jeremy rubbed the nape of his neck, moving his palm in soothing circles as Brendan emptied his stomach. He straightened slowly and wiped his mouth, but bile still burned the back of his throat, and his stomach still heaved in horrible ways. The smell of his own vomit began to spread through the small space, almost triggering his gag reflex again. “Can you walk?” Jeremy asked. Brendan nodded. “Okay, that means we’re done here.” His touch was still gentle, but his voice was firm. He didn’t protest this time as Jeremy led him up the stairs. Raider seemed to take some invisible cue from Jeremy, too, not stopping when they reached the kitchen. He led the way out to the front porch and back to the morning sunshine. Brendan took a long, shuddering breath through his mouth. “I’m sorry.” “No, it’s fine. But I think we’ll all feel better the farther we are from the house. Come on.” He guided Brendan down the long drive to his waiting truck. Brendan just focused on following Jeremy’s lead, knowing each step would take him farther from the basement, where all of his memories were within touching distance.

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CHAPTER 7 It was easy to stay calm and keep the real concern from his face. Jeremy did it all the time. People required him to remain in control, without a hint of fear. He needed to have nerves of steel during some of the most horrific moments he could imagine. But this was different, because as much as he loved animals, his patients weren’t his pets. He was allowed a certain amount of objective distance from harmed animals and their frightened, sometimes hysterical, owners. But he had no objective distance from Brendan. Seeing his friend—his lover—so upset had disturbed him on a fundamental level. It was different than when he had found Brendan on his porch. It was more personal. They didn’t speak on the short drive back to his home. 78

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Brendan’s brow was furrowed, and his eyes seemed to be a thousand miles away. Raider sat between them, his attention split between Brendan and the passing scenery. Jeremy knew how the dog felt—he was splitting his attention the same way. Once they reached the house, Jeremy entwined his fingers with Brendan’s. He tugged him toward the stairs, but Brendan stopped, like he didn’t want to follow. Jeremy pulled him and nodded up to the room. “Come on.” “I need some water.” Slowly, deliberately, Brendan pulled his hand free and headed for the bathroom instead. “And I need to brush my teeth.” “Do you want something to eat? Some crackers or bread to settle your stomach?” “No, it’s better if there’s nothing in it.” At least he didn’t close the door between them when he went in. Jeremy listened to the sounds of the water running and Brendan gargling, and fought the urge to follow. Raider had no such compunction. He sat in the bathroom doorway, watching Brendan at close distance. His tail didn’t even thump against the floor as he did so. Brendan was dragging the back of his hand across his mouth when he stepped back out. His color looked a little better inside, though Jeremy recognized it might be due to the softer lighting. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m not usually… I don’t lose it like that very often.” “I think you’re allowed to lose it every once in awhile. You don’t have to apologize for it.” Jeremy tried to smile comfortingly. “But I won’t tell anybody that you’re a mere mortal.” “But we lost the morning. For nothing. I didn’t even get to finish looking around the house.” 79

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“I know you’re disappointed, but Mike and the detectives assigned to the case aren’t amateurs. And they’re not going to let some asshole get away with hurting one of their own.” Though Brendan nodded, Jeremy could see his heart wasn’t in it. “I should probably check my email. Maybe someone’s gotten back to me with a lead.” “Let’s check your email later,” Jeremy suggested. He didn’t think dragging Brendan up the stairs would be successful on the second attempt. Instead, he swiped his thumb over the corner of Brendan’s mouth, collecting a drop of water hanging there. Lines marred his face—lines of exhaustion, almost as if Brendan hadn’t been sleeping. “If there is anything critical, they’ll call.” His head tilted. Only an inch or two, barely noticeable. But Jeremy felt it. He felt the warmth emanating from Brendan’s skin, the slight brush across his knuckles. Brendan might not acknowledge it, but Jeremy thought it just might feel like surrender. “It makes me so fucking furious.” Brendan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I hate being played. I hate assholes thinking they can win. And then I hate them even more when they do.” “I know. But this bastard isn’t going to win. He’s not. He made a mistake somewhere, and your chief is going to figure it out. Or you’re going to figure it out.” Jeremy cupped his face and bent closer, though he wasn’t quite near enough to kiss him. “He’s not going to win.” Fathomless eyes searched his. “How can you know that?” “Because you’re not going to let him get away with it. Because your friends aren’t going to let him get away with it. He’s a coward who can only win if he drugs people.” Brendan’s shoulders sagged. When Raider nudged at his leg, he 80

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dropped his hand to scratch the top of the dog’s head. He’d been doing that a lot lately, but Jeremy wasn’t going to make him stop. Pets were excellent means of support, even when their owners didn’t realize it. “You know, part of me has actually considered keeping the tattoo when this is all over. So I don’t ever take anything for granted again.” Jeremy brushed his mouth across Brendan’s brow, then did the same across the ridge of his cheekbone. “Don’t keep it. Not like this. A good tattooist can change it. Make it something worth having.” His soft snort feathered across Jeremy’s skin, though he didn’t pull away from the caresses. “It’s not like I’d ever have to look at it. The only people who’d see it…” “I’d see it.” Jeremy lifted his head and sought Brendan’s eyes. “Wouldn’t I?” “If you wanted to.” He hadn’t seen Brendan look this vulnerable since the night he’d dragged him in from the porch. The hand he rested on Jeremy’s trembled. “I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through all this so far without you.” “You would have been fine,” Jeremy said, every bit as sure as he sounded. “One way or the other. But since I am the one who is going to be looking at it, I want some input on how you’ll fix it.” He brought Brendan’s hand up to his mouth. “Later. Come on.” Instead of taking him up the stairs, Jeremy walked backward, pulling Brendan into the guest room. He still didn’t like the bed in that room, but it was closer, and so Jeremy decided it was the winner. He knew Brendan was upset, and had every right to be frustrated with how the day went, but Jeremy’s sharpest emotion was that of relief. He didn’t know what would ultimately happen 81

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between the two of them, but he did know that he wanted to find out. He wanted to learn everything about Brendan, everything that made him tick and made him laugh, everything that mattered and didn’t matter. He knew he liked Brendan a hell of a lot more than he had ever liked any other guy, and that was just after less than a week. He didn’t think he could alleviate Brendan’s pain—physical or mental—but he didn’t have such lofty goals. He only wanted to give Brendan a measure of solace. Once they stepped into the bedroom, Jeremy cupped Brendan’s face. He liked to hold Brendan, liked to feel the texture of his skin, note the places it was rough and smooth. Brendan watched him carefully, but he didn’t try to step away or break the contact. His patience, the soft color of his eyes, the slightly ragged quality of his breathing made Jeremy’s heart swell a little. He sought Brendan’s lips, the slow kiss only hinting at Jeremy’s true levels of desire. It took several seconds for Brendan to respond. Heartbeats Jeremy felt echoing throughout his flesh. He almost feared he’d misinterpreted Brendan’s need, focusing too much on what he would like to do rather than what Brendan might want. But then it came, a tickle across his waist, strong fingers deceptively tender as Brendan reached for him. His lips parted, and the softest breath escaped them, the tip of his tongue glancing across Jeremy’s before he spoke. “You’re the most intuitive guy I’ve ever met,” he murmured. “You always seem to know just how to touch me.” “I do the best I can,” Jeremy demurred, before claiming another kiss. It would be easy to unleash himself and his passion, like he had done the night before, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. So he kept the caresses tender and exploratory, his tongue 82

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glancing over Brendan’s before learning the curves of his mouth, the shape of his lips. His erection pressed into Brendan’s hips, and the answering hardness made his lower stomach throb. Brendan had teased him the night before about being impatient, but Jeremy wanted to show him just how patient he could be. Brendan coiled his arm around Jeremy’s waist, and though his grip was light, the press of his fingertips into the muscle betrayed the urge to cling to him. The desire swelling between them wasn’t the storm that had overtaken them the first time. This was a slow rush of blood to every outer extremity, a hot summer breeze rather than a gale. It wrapped around both of them, kindling flames that seemed to burn at a simmer whenever they were in close proximity. But where they had each demanded the lead in turn last night, Brendan now offered it to Jeremy in a silent concession to his need. Jeremy wished he could push Brendan backward and lay him out on the bed. He’d take the time to undress him, and then become reacquainted with all the marks and all the glory of his body. But he didn’t want to risk the slightest bit of discomfort— Brendan could barely stand to sleep on his back. Instead, Jeremy undid Brendan’s pants, pushing them over his hips and sliding his hands back to cup his ass. The jeans jingled with change and keys as they fell to the floor, but they didn’t distract Jeremy from Brendan’s mouth. His giving, pliant, heated mouth. In the back of his mind, he began to consider his possibilities. Fucking Brendan had been amazing, but he knew that wasn’t his only option. The answer came when Brendan slid his fingers beneath Jeremy’s waistband to caress the tip of his dripping cock. He lingered there for only a moment, but when he withdrew his hand and brought it up to their lips, Jeremy watched with hooded eyes as 83

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he first tasted the pre-come, then smeared it over Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy closed his eyes and shuddered at the first hint of the salty liquid. Despite everything they had managed to do to, and with, each other the night before, Jeremy still felt like he didn’t get enough of Brendan’s cock. He would happily sink to his knees in that moment, but before he could move, Brendan claimed his mouth, eagerly seeking out each drop of the pre-come. Their tongues slid together, sharing the taste, and he eagerly helped unbutton and push his pants away. “Do you want me to suck your cock?” Jeremy asked. Brendan moaned, prompting a second question. “Do you want to suck mine?” “Oh, God, yes and yes.” He pulled the back hem of Jeremy’s shirt over his head, then stood perfectly still as Jeremy took his time with the buttons on Brendan’s. All that moved was the visible pulse in his neck. Once the shirt was open, Jeremy smoothed his hands up Brendan’s chest and onto his shoulders, careful not to disturb the edges of the tattoo. He hated the damn thing, and not just for what a violation it was to Brendan. He yearned to be able to touch Brendan freely, to not fear hurting him because of a casual caress. He was going to celebrate the day he got to do so. When they were both naked, Brendan was the one to nudge Jeremy onto the bed. He stopped him from rolling completely onto his back, though, grasping his hip and pushing him toward the far edge. “I don’t want to be on top,” he offered in explanation, his dark eyes pleading with Jeremy to understand. “That’s fine.” And it was. More than fine. He licked his lips, watching Brendan lower himself to the narrow mattress. Brendan 84

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had been right about one thing—the smaller space did force them to squeeze close to each other. Brendan’s cock bobbed in his face, less than an inch from his lips, already glistening, straining for contact. His nostrils flared as the musky scent of Brendan’s skin filled his world. He couldn’t see or smell anything except Brendan’s body, couldn’t hear anything except his soft breath, and then the wet sound of Brendan’s lips seeking out his cock. Jeremy opted for a different beginning. Instead of closing his mouth around Brendan’s crown, he dug his tongue into the slit, coaxing out more pre-come while the tips of his teeth lightly scraped across the sensitive tip. Brendan cried out around Jeremy’s length, though it only broke the seal of his lips for a moment. His hips jerked, pushing his cock closer to Jeremy’s mouth, but Jeremy kept an even grip on his thigh, holding him steady as he continued to tease along the flared crown. A moan vibrated through his shaft. The tender press of Brendan’s hand between his thighs prompted Jeremy to bend his leg, and then it was his turn to moan when Brendan lovingly cupped his balls. Jeremy trailed his hand up and down Brendan’s ass, his fingers dipping into the crease without any real intent. Occasionally, his nail scratched across Brendan’s hole, eliciting a muffled groan, but he was happy to just caress Brendan’s ass and focus his real energy on the man’s cock. He licked everywhere he could reach, sampling the skin and moaning when a fresh drop of pre-come smeared across his lips. He knew he was driving Brendan crazy, but he loved everything about Brendan’s cock. He loved the length, and the way it got thicker at the base, and the vein that throbbed on the underside, betraying Brendan’s frantic heartbeat. He loved the nest of dark hair at the base, and the way it scraped across his cheek 85

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when he mouthed Brendan’s sac. He especially loved the way it jerked at seemingly random moments. Sometimes it would twitch against his palm when Jeremy mouthed the tip. At others, it would move without any provocation at all, suggesting it was Brendan’s thoughts that caused it to react. What Jeremy wouldn’t give to know what went through his mind. Did he respond because of how Jeremy tasted? Did it have anything to do with what his amazingly talented tongue kept doing to Jeremy’s shaft? But before he could give much consideration at all to what might spark Brendan’s libido, the man in question sucked him in, harder this time, deeper, until the tip nudged at the back of his throat. Jeremy tensed to pull back, but Brendan pressed the flat of his hand against his ass and stopped him, swallowing down the last remaining inches until his nose was buried in Jeremy’s balls. It seemed unfair, and a bit unkind, to continue to tease with his tongue while Brendan had him swallowed to the root. He sucked Brendan’s cock past his lips, pinning the shaft to the roof of his mouth with his tongue before humming. Brendan immediately tightened around his cock, his body tensing, his hips jerking forward. Jeremy let him push his cock deeper into his mouth, but he didn’t stop humming, the vibrations traveling from his hard palate through Brendan’s shaft. Brendan pulled off with a gasp, his fist immediately taking the place of his mouth. “Fuck,” he muttered. His head rested on Jeremy’s thigh. Hot breath spilled across his sac. “I can’t concentrate when you do that.” Jeremy grinned around Brendan, but he didn’t stop. He took a deep breath through his nose and raised the pitch of the sound, increasing the speed of the vibrations. When Brendan began to 86

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buck his hips, Jeremy tore away, his grin still in place. “I don’t mind if you can’t concentrate.” The muttered curses were good-natured, but they became muffled when Brendan began sucking on Jeremy’s balls. His hand pumped Jeremy’s cock, and though it lacked the soft wetness of his mouth, the constriction was only beat by the tightness of his ass. Jeremy had to take several deep breaths before he returned to his earlier efforts. He waited until he had swallowed Brendan completely before he started humming again, and Brendan’s immediate response was to tighten the suction around his balls. His thighs and ass tightened in response, and he pushed harder against Brendan’s mouth. Which only accomplished more direct contact with Brendan’s teeth. The strokes along his cock quickened, as did the jerk of Brendan’s hips. Whimpers resonated through Jeremy’s sac, and he didn’t need to feel the vein pulsing in Brendan’s shaft to know he was close. Jeremy dropped his jaw farther, giving Brendan free rein to fuck his mouth. He swore the next time they did this, he wanted Brendan straddling him, driving his length into Jeremy’s throat while Jeremy got to watch the ecstasy on his lover’s face. This time, he settled for feeling it. Brendan slammed forward, and hot come spilled along Jeremy’s tongue. He gulped it all greedily, forgetting about the humming as he grabbed Brendan’s ass and held him tight. It seemed to go on forever, during which time Brendan never stopped sucking on his balls, never stopped pulling at his cock. His concentration seemed perfectly fine to Jeremy. Too fine, even. Jeremy kept his mouth on Brendan, even after the other man stopped trembling. He sucked on the skin, cleaning it of the last of the come, letting the flavor linger on his tongue. Jeremy made his 87

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pleasure known with soft sounds, tiny pleas for just a bit more friction, a bit more pressure. Brendan responded by moving his wrist faster, stroking Jeremy’s length against his firm palm until an unbearable heat began at the base of his spine and then exploded through him. His cock erupted, coating Brendan’s fingers. Jeremy looked down his body, watching as Brendan pulled away from Jeremy’s balls in favor of his own fingers. The look on Brendan’s face was pure bliss. Even when Jeremy grabbed his wrist and pulled it to his mouth, Brendan followed, chasing the come all the way to Jeremy’s lips. Their mouths fused into a languorous kiss, their bodies righting themselves until they lay side by side on the bed. Brendan was in no hurry to cease the kisses. He rested his head on Jeremy’s arm and draped his leg over the back of Jeremy’s. “I really think I could get used to this,” Jeremy murmured. “Which?” Brendan’s soft eyes seemed free of his ghosts from earlier, at least temporarily. “Blow jobs on Saturday mornings, or messing around in my bed?” “Definitely the blow jobs.” Jeremy grinned. “I still like stretching out in my own bed.” “It is a very nice bed…” His hand continued to move, tracing around a nipple, drawing along Jeremy’s collarbone. The absence of his smile worried Jeremy a little bit, as did his silence, but the lines had smoothed slightly, and his brows were no longer pulled into a frown. “How does your back feel?” Brendan paused for a moment to contemplate his response. “Sore, but tolerable. I’ll be glad to be able to take showers again, that’s for sure.” 88

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“I’ll help you clean it again in a bit.” When I can move. “It’ll be nice when it doesn’t need to be done every couple of hours.” “How long…” He stopped and closed his eyes. He looked for all appearances that he was going to sleep. “I hadn’t considered how long I’d actually be staying out here. For some reason, I had it in my head we were going to catch this bastard right away and I’d go straight back to my normal life. And I should know better than that. These things take time, but…I miss it. My life, I mean.” “I know. God it’s been…almost two weeks since you’ve been home, sleeping in your own bed, hasn’t it?” “Yeah. And that long since I’ve really been on the job.” His soft bark of laughter billowed breath along Jeremy’s chest. “This is the longest I’ve been off work since I was nineteen. I guess it’s no wonder I’m crawling out of my skin.” “As far as vacations go, this is not a very good one.” But Jeremy thought it possible that this whole thing was a very small blessing in disguise. Not only did it bring the two of them together, it forced Brendan into what was probably some much needed rest. He wouldn’t say as much. He was sure Brendan would have chosen the status quo of his life over the violent and unexpected changes. “Do you think it’s going to be the same after you go back to work?” Brendan opened his eyes to regard him again. “In what way?” “I don’t know. I just wondered if it would be the same since…you know what it’s like to be on the other side of a crime.” “Oh. Maybe. I hope so. I’ve seen too many cops throw it in because they can’t dissociate after something like this happens.” “Well…” Jeremy kissed the top of Brendan’s head. “If you need any help getting back in the saddle, so to speak, you know I’ll do whatever I can. I just don’t want what happened today to hold 89

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you back.” “No.” It was the strongest he had heard Brendan sound since arriving home. “That’s not going to happen. I just…I’ll get over this. I will. Chief isn’t about to let me crack, either.” A tentative smile played on his lips. “Besides, you deserve to know what kind of a guy I am when I’m not all fucked up. How can I charm the pants off you if I let this bastard win?” “I think you already charmed the pants off me. They came off pretty easy last night. And about a half hour ago.” “Yeah, but…” He took a deep breath. “Look. I’ll just say it. I don’t get to date much because, well, look where we live. And if all you want is sex, then that’s fine. I’m good with that. But I get the feeling we could have more here. If we dated and got the chance to know each other on even ground. If you wanted to, that is.” “Brendan…I thought we covered this earlier, when we talked about your tattoo. I want to date you. I want to get to know you better. I want to see what you look like when you’re actually really happy. I think you’re right. I think we do have the chance for something more.” The smile returned, wider this time, and infinitely less haunted. “Good. We’re on the same page then. I wasn’t sure, because, well…I wasn’t sure.” He laughed. “I am so out of practice. It’s a hell of a lot harder in the sticks than it was in Portland.” “Yes, it is. But you shouldn’t worry about me…about us…right now. When things get back to normal, we can work out what all this means.” “You’re the one thing that doesn’t give me a headache to think about right now.” But Brendan nestled closer against Jeremy’s chest, his eyes drifting shut. “Okay, then. We’ll talk later.” 90

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Jeremy gripped Brendan’s hip, wishing he could wrap his arms around Brendan’s body. “You going to sleep?” “You mind if I do?” “Not at all. I might take a nap, too.” “My bed wins. It’s closer.” Jeremy chuckled. “Okay, I won’t drag you upstairs for the nap.” He rested his head against the mattress, but he didn’t close his eyes. He was too busy watching Brendan. “This time.”

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CHAPTER 8 Raider waited patiently at the backdoor when Jeremy emerged from the guest room. He had wanted to stay locked in Brendan’s arms, but after an hour of light dozing, his stomach began to growl and his bladder felt heavy. Brendan hadn’t even stirred as Jeremy eased away and then dressed. “Do you need to go outside?” Jeremy asked softly. Raider thumped his tail in response. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Come on.” He grabbed the leash hanging above the door and hooked it into place. Raider stared at him with big brown eyes, marking each movement while his ears twitched back and forth. The more time he spent with Brendan and Raider, the more he realized how empty his life would be without them. He couldn’t deny that he liked having a dog around that he could walk and play with and simply 92

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enjoy. It helped him remember why he became a vet to begin with. The beautiful morning had shifted into a gorgeous afternoon. He considered turning back to get his sunglasses, but Raider pulled at his leash. “You really have to go, don’t you? Then I guess I can live without my shades.” Raider put his head down to sniff the ground, following his nose in an erratic, unpredictable pattern. Raider was a big dog and needed to have space to move around. He was sure Brendan took Raider out for walks, but there were a lot more smells and interesting areas in the countryside than there were in town. Jeremy didn’t mind letting Raider explore a little bit. But he did make sure they stayed within view of the house. He didn’t want Brendan to wake up and worry about him. Jeremy glanced down just as Raider’s ears went back. He didn’t even have the chance to search for what upset the dog before a hand covered his mouth. *

*

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Brendan burrowed deeper into his pillow, trying to concentrate on the scents it contained rather than the rattle of noise somewhere in the distance. His back ached, but the burn was minimal, not nearly enough to drive him to get up and face his mistakes again. Better to sleep, to dream about a possible future with Jeremy, to get lost in memories of that tight ass, the determined tongue… Raider’s sharp bark dispelled the best of his fantasies. Brendan sighed and opened his eyes, but when he saw the empty space beside him, promptly let his eyelids fall shut again. Jeremy would take care of Raider. The dog was probably just anxious to get 93

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outside. It took another bark and a distinct scratch at the door to pull him from his half-doze. Blearily, Brendan turned his head toward the door, wincing as his damaged skin crinkled across his shoulders. Raider was trying to get in. Why was Jeremy letting him get away with it? Barking was out of character for Raider, especially when he was inside. The only time he barked was— The realization sliced through his drowsiness, excising it from control. Branden rose as quickly as he could, scooping up his pants at the same time. “Jeremy?” The only answer was Raider’s sharp barking. Booming silence greeted him when he opened the door, though it only lasted for a split second. Raider jumped onto his chest, his nails scratching not quite painfully, before dropping back to his feet and dancing several feet away. His leash trailed behind him. Brendan frowned. His leash? “Jeremy?” he tried again. He went out into the kitchen, hoping to find the man there. Raider followed right on his heels, pushing past him to block him from going too far into the empty room. “What is it, boy?” Raider immediately shot past his legs again for the front door. Brendan followed, but his heart leapt into his throat when he saw the big hole in the screen. That hadn’t been there before. The edges were jagged, the hole itself big enough for Raider to wriggle through, just as he did now. The dog stopped on the porch and looked back, clearly waiting for Brendan to follow. “Wait,” Brendan ordered. He raced back for the bedroom and grabbed his shoes and his gun. Something was wrong. Jeremy must’ve had an accident while he was walking Raider or something. 94

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Raider paced along the length of the porch when Brendan reemerged, but the moment he saw his owner, he leapt down the stairs. The pacing resumed at the bottom, his keen eyes watchful of each of Brendan’s movements. Every time Brendan passed another barrier, Raider bolted. He ran several yards only to stop and look behind, waiting for Brendan to catch up. Both cars were parked exactly where they’d left them. Brendan’s terror rose another notch. He broke into a run as soon as his shoes were secure. The very first step jostled his back, making the muscles scream in protest. He ignored them. He had to. This wasn’t the time to worry about his own pain. Jeremy was out there, hurt enough for Raider to destroy property in order to get back to Brendan. His first warning that something was amiss—something more than Jeremy hurt—was the crushed bush thirty yards from the house. Raider had stopped to sniff—another not good sign—so Brendan stopped as well, looking at it more closely. Half of it had been trampled, the soft earth around its base broken. Brendan didn’t need to crouch down to see more than one set of footprints in the dirt. He glanced back at the house. The front porch was still visible through the foliage. Jeremy hadn’t gone far before someone had surprised him. Brendan took off as soon as Raider started running again. Away from the house. He had his gun in hand within two paces. The sunshine he’d admired earlier now conspired against him. It sliced through the trees, striking his eyes at random moments. Brendan had to keep his head low, his gaze fixed on Raider ahead of him, in order not to be blinded. It afforded him the view of the trail Jeremy had left behind, too—the broken branches, the 95

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footprints in the mud. Once, Raider stopped to sniff at a prickly vine that stretched across the path. Brendan seriously hoped the dog didn’t smell blood. Raider bounded over the edge of a hill, and a gunshot immediately cracked through the air. Electricity sizzled over Brendan’s skin, and he dashed forward, bracing against what he might see. He was ready to find Raider’s inert body, bleeding out into the ground. What he actually encountered made him skid to a halt, nearly falling onto his ass as he did. Jeremy stood slumped against a tall young man, conscious but clearly struggling to remain so. He clutched at the heavily muscled arm across his chest, but whether it was to stay upright or to try and get away, Brendan had no idea. He had no time for speculation. Because the man who held Jeremy was the one who’d tattooed him and killed Gilda. He was certain of it. Mack Irving wasn’t the idiotic kid he remembered. He’d grown up—and out—in the time since Brendan had known him in Portland. A scraggly brown beard tried to hide his heavy jowls, and he’d shaved his head, most likely better to sport the tattoos that now adorned his skull. He regarded Brendan with glittering blue eyes, cold hatred even in the curl of his lip. The gun he held was jammed against Jeremy’s ear. Raider was on his belly on the ground, teeth bared as he growled at Mack. Brendan inched forward, but as soon as Mack jerked Jeremy closer, he stopped. “Let him go, Mack.” He kept his voice low and even, unwilling to upset Mack more than he already was. “He’s not the one you’re mad at.” “No, but he’s the best way to get your attention, isn’t he?” A frisson of fear went down his spine. Mack had always been 96

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there, clamoring at the periphery of his life while Brendan gathered the evidence to put his brother away. More than once, Brendan had thought the kid had gotten himself arrested, just because he knew Brendan would bail him out. Now he wished he’d let him rot in jail instead of doing what he had to do to keep his cover. “You’ve got it now. So he’s served his purpose. Let him go.” “Are you kidding? And give up a chance like this? See…I worked it out.” He pushed the muzzle of the gun harder against Jeremy’s ear. “You might kill me, but not before I pull the trigger. Can you imagine all that blood? Your boy’s brains will be all over the trees.” Brendan didn’t take the bait and glance away. His eyes remained locked on Mack. “He’s not my boy,” he said, hoping Jeremy would realize why he had to denounce him. “He’s my dog’s vet. You remember Raider, right?” “Oh, yeah?” Mac sneered. “What do you say, vet? And I’ll know if you lie to me. You don’t want to do that.” “I just take care of Raider.” Mack dug the tip of the gun into Jeremy’s ear, twisting it until Jeremy cried out. “You weren’t just taking care of Raider this morning when you sucked Brendan’s cock.” Nausea bubbled in Brendan’s throat. Either Mack was taking a stab in the dark, or he’d been spying on them. Though if he was just trying to get information, he’d picked an awfully accurate description of what had happened. Brendan had to assume he knew. How, he had no fucking clue, but then again, he didn’t know how Mack had found out he was at Jeremy’s house, either. “So I got him to blow me.” Brendan strained for cocky, unsure of how it was reading. “That doesn’t mean he’s anything more than 97

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a friend. Hell, there was a time when I would’ve stood here doing the same for you, Mack. You’re a little ways from Portland, aren’t you?” “I followed you down from Portland. Been waiting for you to figure it out…remember how good we were together. But you forgot me.” He spat the word like a mouthful of poison. “How could you do that? How could you forget all about me?” His eyes narrowed. “At least, that’s what I thought. But now I know what you really think of me.” “We were friends, Mack. That’s all.” “No. We should have been more. But…it doesn’t matter now. Because you’re never going to forget me again, are you?” As if his words conjured the pain, a flare of heat shot across Brendan’s sore shoulders. “So this was all you? The tattooing, the girl, all of it?” “I am sorry you escaped when you did. I wanted you to hear that girl beg for her life. And she did. Do you think your boy will beg like that? I think he might.” “Stop calling him that. His name is Jeremy.” “Jeremy. Pleased to meet you. Tell me, what do you think of my handiwork?” “I…” “Answer me, unless you want a hole in your head. Did you know that girl?” “I…I did.” “So maybe it’s a shame you didn’t hear her beg, either.” “How did you know the girl, Mack?” Brendan didn’t like the way Jeremy was reacting. He had the sneaking suspicion Mack had drugged him. “I haven’t even seen you around town.” “Because you don’t pay attention!” His volume rose with each 98

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word. “I’ve been around. And Gilda knew me quite well. I was a regular customer. It wasn’t difficult to convince her to come with me. I didn’t even have to drug her.” “You didn’t have to kill her, either. What did she ever do to you?” “She didn’t do anything to me. She was a good girl. Pretty sweet, too. I could have chosen any number of girls…or guys…in the area. She was just like any number of people you have hurt, and the people you will hurt.” Brendan’s skin alternated hot and cold. Part of him couldn’t believe he was having this surreal conversation in the first place. Mack? He was just a kid. Except that wasn’t true, at least not anymore. The other part wanted to pull the trigger and be done with all of it, once and for all. Mack had gone too far. He needed to be punished. The only thing that stopped him was the sight of the gun pressed to the side of Jeremy’s head. “So what do you want? To hurt me? You’ve done that. Permanently. What else is there, Mack?” “Who said I’m done hurting you? You put my brother in jail. You betrayed him, and he trusted you. You betrayed me. Can you even comprehend that?” He had to bite the instinct to say he was just doing his job. Mack wouldn’t see it like that. And it would be Jeremy who would take the brunt of his anger. Jeremy. He had to get Mack away from him. “So tell me what you want me to do,” he said, lowering his voice. “You’ve got me now. Tell me what you want.” Without moving the gun from Jeremy’s head, Mack pushed his groggy prisoner to his knees. Jeremy grunted, his lashes fluttering. 99

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“I want to know if you’ve learned anything.” “Okay. How?” “Him or you. I didn’t plan for it to come down to this, but I’m not one to pass up on an opportunity. So, you get to make a choice. Him or you.” “Don’t,” Jeremy said thickly. “Shut up.” Jeremy looked up, his gaze clashing with Brendan’s. “Don’t.” He had to. He knew Jeremy would never understand that, but the last thing Brendan would ever be able to tolerate was another innocent being killed because of him. “How do I know you’re not going to just kill him when you’re done with me?” “I don’t have any argument with your vet. And somebody will need to take care of Raider.” “Brendan. Don’t.” Desperation shone from Jeremy’s cloudy eyes. “You can’t…” “It’s okay,” Mack said, almost soothingly. “I’ll make sure that he hardly feels a thing. Now put down your gun. Slowly.” “Brendan…” Brendan didn’t take his eyes from Jeremy. He hoped Jeremy could see his apology. He hoped that one day Jeremy would be able to think of him without the same rage and regret that Mack apparently felt. His skin itched and felt tight across his shoulders, and his mind flashed to the photographs of Gilda—photographs of a pointless death. “Drop the weapon!” Chief’s voice drifted from somewhere behind him. Mack’s head snapped up, his attention off Brendan, and Jeremy, and Raider. It was Brendan’s opening. He knew it. He had 100

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been trained to take them whenever the opportunity arose. He knew what he had to do. Pull the trigger. End it all. Mack deserved it after everything he had done. His finger refused to move. Branches snapped all around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his colleagues approaching. Tightening the circle. Mack saw it, too. The gun wavered the split second before his arm tensed. “Don’t,” Brendan pleaded. “I don’t want them to have to kill you.” “If I have to go, I’m going to take you with me.” He pulled the gun from Jeremy and pointed it at Brendan, his finger covering the trigger. As soon as the muzzle pointed at him, the air shattered with smoke and gunpowder. Jeremy immediately fell face first to the ground, and the way he didn’t put a hand out to stop himself made Brendan think the worst. One of the cops had missed Mack and hit Jeremy, maybe. A second after Jeremy hit the ground, Mack followed. The gunshots shattered the inertia in his bones, and Brendan leapt forward, ignoring the pain in his back in order to get to Jeremy’s side. He beat Mazursky by only a second, and together, they rolled Jeremy over. Brendan checked his pulse, but the fact that it beat strong and clear didn’t alleviate his fear. “We need—” he started, only to clamp his jaw shut when he heard Chief barking orders for an ambulance, stat. “I don’t see any blood,” Mazursky said. “No, Mack drugged him. Probably the same thing he gave me.” He glanced up when he saw Chief’s shoes. “How did you know something was wrong out here?” 101

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Chief grinned. “What, you think we helped you install all those security cameras out here just to make the yard pretty?” He hooked a thumb back toward the house. “Someone’s been watching you two ’round the clock. As soon as we saw Baldy lurking outside the window, we hightailed it over.” “Mack. His name is Mack. Irving. He’s—” He gazed at the inert body, the body spilling onto the already sodden ground. “— was the brother of one of my Portland busts.” “He the one we get to credit for Gilda?” Brendan nodded. “I don’t know where he’s been staying, though. I haven’t even seen him around town.” “I have.” Mazursky shrugged at Brendan’s startled glance. “Not regularly. I thought he was a biker who picked us as a pit stop.” “Well, he lived somewhere,” Chief said. “I’m just glad we can give Gilda’s family and you some well-deserved peace, Wheeler.” Brendan looked between Jeremy and Mack, reliving the last few minutes inside his head. He was relieved for Gilda’s family, but he didn’t relish them discovering the truth about why Gilda was dead. If Brendan had just seen Mack once before all this had happened, he could have prevented it. Even Mazursky had noticed Mack around town. Gilda had paid the price for Brendan’s negligence. So had Jeremy. He wasn’t so sure his peace would be coming along any time soon.

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CHAPTER 9 He knew before the knock came who was standing on the other side. Raider only bolted from his dog bed in the corner to stand in anticipation at the door for one man besides Brendan. Grabbing a towel, he tilted his head to check the low flame below the chicken as he dried off his hands. The scent of the lemon-pepper in the tomato sauce was driving his stomach crazy. He’d surfed along the Food Network until he found something he thought he could make, and while it certainly smelled good, the true test would be Jeremy’s reaction. He owed it to Jeremy for this meal to be phenomenal. “Back, Raider,” he said as he went to the door. “You’ll get your turn with him later.” Jeremy smiled as Brendan opened the door, and he knew just 103

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by looking at the man that he had come directly to Brendan’s apartment from the clinic. He wore the dark slacks and buttondown shirt that made up his professional wardrobe. “I brought beer and my receptionist gave me a huge tin of cookies today. Just because.” He took a step into the apartment and kissed Brendan in greeting. “Something smells delicious.” “I’ve gone foodie on you for the night.” Before Jeremy could step away, Brendan pushed the door shut and hooked an arm around his neck to pull him closer. “Hey there, Doc.” His pulse jumped at the touch of his lips to Jeremy’s again, but he didn’t bother with a quick caress this time. Now that he was back at work full-time, he didn’t get to see Jeremy nearly as often as he wanted to. He had been hungry for Jeremy ever since they had made this date a week earlier. “Keep kissing me like that, I’m going to forget I came here for dinner.” Jeremy paused to set down his paper bag, and then his arm went around Brendan again. “Well, one more kiss.” Brendan didn’t have time to protest before Jeremy kissed him again. Jeremy had missed him just as much. His arms tightened around Brendan, and his chest was warm and hard. Solid. Goose bumps erupted along his bare arms. It had been a month since Mack Irving had kidnapped him, and though his comfort levels had gradually returned to normal, this was the first time he could remember Jeremy taking the freedom to wrap his arms around Brendan’s back. Nothing had ever felt so good as being able to embrace each other that closely, not even the few times they’d been able to get together since the nightmare had ended. He really didn’t want it to end. The smell of the sauce finally convinced him to let Jeremy go. “Dinner’s almost ready. The beer and cookies will go great with 104

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it.” He followed Brendan into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder to inspect the chicken. The contact was innocent—as innocent as it could be—but it still made Brendan’s pulse jump. “Simple recipe or are you revealing a new talent to impress me?” “Simple recipe. Courtesy of the Food Network and a shitload of how-to pictures.” He glanced back, all too aware of his shy smile. “Though you can be impressed, too. I’m a little shocked I managed to do it.” “I am extremely impressed, but not surprised. After all, I’ve always thought you were smart enough to follow a simple set of instructions.” He leaned closer. “Can I have a bite?” “Sure.” Brendan scooped a little of the sauce into the wooden spoon and shifted to the side in order to guide it to Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy blew across the surface to cool it down, but it was the delicious sight of his full lips wrapping around the spoon that made Brendan’s cock stiffen. “So is it a keeper?” Brendan saw the smile in Jeremy’s eyes. “Yeah, I think it’s a keeper.” He licked his lips and took a step back, giving Brendan room to move. Though he missed the pressure of Jeremy’s body. “I’ve missed you this week.” “No, you haven’t.” Brendan laughed. “Ask Chief the next time you see him. Apparently, I’ve been driving everybody crazy with how excited I am to be back on shift full-time. He practically ordered me to stay away from the station until Monday.” “Until Monday?” Jeremy leaned against the counter, his smile widening. “I like the sounds of that. Can I order you to come over to my place tomorrow?” “Actually…” Swapping the spoon over to his other hand, Brendan reached for a pamphlet held on the refrigerator by a 105

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Beck’s beer magnet. He tossed it onto the counter at Jeremy’s side. “I was hoping you’d go there with me tomorrow.” Brendan turned the burner off as Jeremy picked up the brochure. It was a simple affair, one sheet of paper tri-folded, with small color photographs of the artist’s work on the inside. The shop’s name, Under Your Skin, was emblazoned across the front of it. “It’s in Portland,” he added when Jeremy didn’t say anything. “I have a consult there tomorrow about reworking the tattoo.” “I’d love to come with you.” Jeremy turned the pamphlet over, skimming the words on the back. “You decided not to get it removed?” “Yeah. For a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the cost.” He dished out the rice onto the waiting plates, ladling the sauce and chicken over the top. “These guys are supposed to be geniuses at changing designs, so I’m hoping they can work it into something that honors Gilda instead.” “Have you had any thoughts on what you’d like?” “Does anything but what’s actually there count?” “Not quite. I mean, the folks at Under Your Skin might very well be geniuses, but if you go in and tell them ‘anything,’ they’ll look at you funny. Besides, you don’t want to have to go through this again next year if you don’t get it right this time.” Brendan picked up the plates and carried them out to the table, Jeremy following after. “I don’t know what they can actually do about it yet. It’s not exactly small.” Jeremy took his seat at the table and popped the tops off two beers. “That’s even more reason to have some sort of an idea. It’ll make your life easier in the long run.” He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. “God, this smells unbelievable.” 106

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It tasted even better than it smelled. Brendan practically groaned in delight as he took the first bite. Something in all his plans had actually gone right. “What do you think they should do?” He shot Jeremy an impish smile. “Since we decided you’re the one who’ll actually see it.” “Gilda had a beautiful face. I think that it should be the centerpiece of the tattoo, and she should be awake and smiling, like she was every morning. You could also work with the tile floor, maybe do a better reproduction of the Coffeeberry. I bet the counter could hide most of the…injuries and blood.” The details surprised him a little. Brendan tried not to think about the tattoo at all, now that the pain was mostly gone and it didn’t require the constant care. Of course, that only worked when he was busy. As soon as he slowed down, memories crowded back, and he had to face them all over again. “This is part of why I want you to come along tomorrow. You’ll be able to help me get this all sorted out.” “I’ll also be able to help out with keeping it clean and bandaged. Of course, that means I’m going to have to see you more than once a week or so.” “I have no problem with that. It’s just my work schedule that’s getting in the way.” “Mine isn’t exactly helping, either. But I’ve been thinking about making my assistant more of a partner.” “How would that end up working out?” “I’d have a bit more flexibility with my time. So I could work fewer evenings. Or more evenings, I suppose, if that were better.” Brendan chewed slowly, weighing the implications of Jeremy’s concession. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one regretting the change 107

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in their schedules. The first couple days after he’d moved back to his apartment, Brendan had turned around to say something to Jeremy, only to be met with the silence of his absence. That was part of the reason he’d been so quick to jump at going back to work. He needed the distraction from missing Jeremy. “Chief’s giving me a lot of leeway right now because of everything,” he said. “If I tell him I’d rather work days, he’ll be okay with that. Or if I work swing shifts, maybe you could come here on those nights you work late and wait for me. Raider would love that.” Jeremy grinned. “I don’t mind hanging out with Raider, as long as you don’t make me wait too long. I find I prefer your company to his. Which is rather unprecedented for me.” “I rate higher than Raider?” Brendan returned to his smile. “I’m going to have to remember that for future reference.” Jeremy looked down to his plate and shrugged. “You rate higher than just about everybody.” “So do you,” Brendan blurted. When Jeremy glanced up, it was his turn to concentrate on his food. “I haven’t told anyone else about tomorrow. I know they’re worried, and that they care, but…I don’t want it to change anything for me at work. I don’t want to be treated any differently. I need that to stay the same.” He took a deep breath. “But I also know if I have to stare at the pictures of the tattoo for hours tomorrow, it’ll eat me up. I need you to help deal with it. Hell, I just need you.” “I plan on being here.” Their gazes met as Brendan looked up again, and something sizzled down his spine. Jeremy’s eyes were dark with promise, and Brendan knew there was more there, just beneath the words. Perhaps it wasn’t anything Jeremy felt comfortable speaking about, but he didn’t need to. “Besides the 108

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tattoo, how have you been feeling?” In the end, he decided that honesty was the only way to go. “Guilty. Because of Gilda, because of Mack. Apparently, he’d been in the area for a few months. Not in the house he kept me in, but in a shack that was on the edge of the property. He had…all this stuff from Portland. Pictures of me. Letters from his brother. He was right when he said I hadn’t even noticed.” He swallowed. The food had suddenly lost its taste. “He was right about a lot of shit, unfortunately.” “No, he wasn’t,” Jeremy countered softly. “I guess in a way, I could understand why he was hurt. He probably didn’t care why you did it, just that, in his mind, you betrayed his confidence. But you didn’t. And you shouldn’t carry that weight. He was a disturbed young man. He lived in his own delusions. You’re not responsible for the way he responded to those delusions.” “I feel responsible. Which is what he was hoping for, I know. He picked someone I had zero hopes of saving and killed her, just because he could. He would have killed you if Raider hadn’t come back to the house.” “He might have. Or he might have dragged me back to that shack and waited for you to find us. Or he might have tied me up and gone to search for you himself. Or Mike could have shown up and shot him while you were still napping.” Jeremy put his fork down. “It doesn’t do any good to think of the dozens of things that could have happened. As for the horrible thing that did happen…I know I can’t talk you out of your guilt. But I hope you don’t get wrapped up in it, either.” “I’m not.” When Jeremy cocked a brow in disbelief, Brendan smiled in embarrassment. “Most of the time. It’s just been on my mind a lot today because of going up to Portland tomorrow.” He 109

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reached across the table in order to cover Jeremy’s hand with his own. “Do you mind making a weekend of it? We can spend the night there, maybe come back Sunday night. If you don’t have anything else to do.” “I don’t have anything else planned. If there are any serious emergencies, I might have to hightail it home. Is that okay?” “Yeah.” One of the knots in his stomach loosened. “I’ve never dated a doctor before. Are you going to let me show you off and brag about how important you are?” Jeremy laughed. “If it makes you happy, you can brag about me. But most people aren’t terribly impressed with veterinarians. My own mother asks me why I couldn’t be a heart surgeon every time I see her.” “I’ll just have to set her straight then.” “You want to meet her?” “Why wouldn’t I?” He suddenly wondered if he’d remembered incorrectly about Jeremy being out with his family. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.” “You can meet her sometime. She’s always happy to have me home for dinner. Most guys I’ve dated don’t fall all over themselves to meet the parents.” Brendan flushed. “I’m not falling all over myself.” Jeremy chuckled. “I know. I didn’t mean to imply that you were. I’m just…pleasantly surprised.” Neither one of them were eating any longer, and the heat sinking into his fingertips from Jeremy’s hand was making his cock throb. Pulling away, Brendan gestured toward their plates. “You want those cookies now, or do you want to wait a little bit and have them later?” Jeremy licked his lips. “Later. I’m feeling a bit full now. You?” 110

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“I’m done.” Picking up the dishes, he carried them out to the kitchen, scraping them clean before placing them in the dishwasher. He’d run it later. Right now, he just wanted to get back to Jeremy. He found him still at the table, Raider sitting at his side, rooting around in Jeremy’s empty hand. Brendan sighed. “Why didn’t he ever beg when he was at your house? He only ever does that here.” “Because I have a firm no begging rule in my house. Well, for dogs, at any rate.” It was impossible not to smile. “Go on, boy,” he said, swatting Raider’s back flank. “It’s my turn to get petted.” Jeremy linked his arm around Brendan’s waist and pulled him closer, putting his mouth even with Brendan’s abdomen. After a deep breath, he glanced up with smiling eyes. “You smell like you’ve been cooking all day.” “And that’s in my clothes.” He brushed his thumb across Jeremy’s lower lip. “Just imagine what I smell like out of them.” “I don’t have to imagine, do I?” Jeremy pushed at his shirt, bundling it up in his fingers to expose Brendan’s stomach. He skimmed his mouth across the defined ridges, inhaling as he went. “Oh, you smell much better without them.” The thump of Raider’s tail hitting the carpet reminded him they weren’t alone. “Feel like having our own dessert away from prying eyes?” “He’s not going to follow us to the bedroom?” “He knows to stay out when the door is closed. Come on.” Curling his fingers in Jeremy’s, Brendan tugged him to his feet and led him down the narrow hallway. His place wasn’t nearly as spacious as Jeremy’s, but he didn’t think his lover would mind. 111

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The bed had more than enough room for the both of them, and besides… “I foresee lots of nights for us in this room.” At Jeremy’s quizzical frown, Brendan grinned and kicked the door shut. “Closest bed wins, after all.” Jeremy crossed to the bed with a soft chuckle. “True. But the real question is…how comfortable is it?” He sat down and bounced a little. “Seems like it’s got a bit of give.” “And know the best part?” Peeling off his shirt, Brendan went to the end of the bed and promptly fell backward on top of it. He wriggled a little into the mattress and grinned up at Jeremy. “You have no idea how good this feels.” Jeremy stretched out beside him, half-covering Brendan’s body, pinning him more firmly into the mattress. “You have no idea how good this feels.” He smoothed his hand down Brendan’s chest, stopping once he reached his belt. “I want to fuck you tonight. I’ve been thinking about it…well, since the last time I fucked you.” The blood in his veins went molten, though his heart leapt into overtime. Brendan slipped his arm beneath Jeremy’s body, tugging him closer. “I can definitely get on board with that plan. Or underneath that plan. Or wherever in that plan you want me.” “I definitely want you beneath me in this plan.” He swung his leg over Brendan’s thighs, settling more firmly on top of him. “So, you’re okay? Not even a little discomfort?” He shook his head. Trailing his hand down Jeremy’s back, he didn’t stop until it was splayed over his firm ass. “You have my permission to see just how much of a pounding I can take, Doc.” “God, I like the sounds of that.” He sat up and focused on Brendan’s pants, where his erection bulged against the denim. 112

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Jeremy smoothed the heel of his palm against it, pressing hard enough to make Brendan gasp. With his free hand, Jeremy caught Brendan’s wrist and dragged him to his own erection, sighing when Brendan squeezed his shaft through his pants. “Know what else I like about this position?” With a sharp yank, he pulled Jeremy on top of him again, though their hands didn’t leave their cocks. “It’s just you and me. Nothing between us.” He grinned. “Well. Except for these damn pants.” Jeremy rocked his hips, grinding against Brendan’s hand. “You should let me do something about these damned pants.” Instead of sitting up again, he kissed down Brendan’s jaw and neck. His mouth was hard and wet, and Brendan had the feeling he would be sporting mouth-sized hickeys the next day. “I’m all yours.” Brendan squeezed his eyes and cried out when one particularly hard suck sizzled all the way to his balls. “Do with me what you will.” “Oh, I will.” Jeremy pressed his lips to Brendan’s in a firm kiss before sitting up again. He yanked the belt free, then tore at his pants until the fly gave. His long fingers curled around the waistband and Brendan arched off the bed, pushing his hips up to free the material. His cock bounced against his stomach, a thin string of pre-come catching his skin. With a small growl, Jeremy ducked his head and caught Brendan’s crown, his tongue licking the skin clean. His palm slapped down onto Jeremy’s shoulder, his only anchorage from flying off the bed completely. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a lover as voracious as Jeremy. Had anyone ever wanted him quite this much? For a moment, Mack’s face loomed in his mind’s eye, but as quickly as it came, Brendan forced it away. No. He wasn’t going to spoil everything. 113

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Mack was dead, Brendan had done nothing wrong, and he had Jeremy nibbling at his cock like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Jesus, Doc…” His fingertips dug into the hard muscle. He tried not to thrust upward into Jeremy’s mouth, but failed miserably. “Maybe after I see what sort of pounding you can take, I’ll flip you over.” He abandoned Brendan’s shaft, but only so he could tease his balls with gentle teeth. “And go for round two.” Though Brendan tried to pull him up, Jeremy refused to budge. The best Brendan could do was brace his heels on the bed and spread his legs. “Sometimes I think you must not have had sex for a long time before we hooked up.” “My opportunities were rare and fleeting.” He gripped Brendan’s inner thighs and pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole to Jeremy’s mouth. “I learned to make the most of them when they happened.” His tongue moved over Brendan’s pucker, rough and hot. “And what about you? I don’t hear you complaining about my…appetite.” He clenched, then opened against the probe of Jeremy’s tongue, whimpering when Jeremy kept withdrawing it just when he wanted it most. “And you never will.” His hand flew to his cock, unable to refrain any longer from pumping it slowly. Even when Jeremy tried to slap his hand away, Brendan kept going back to it. “Just you wait. Now that I’m back up to full speed, I’m going to give you a run for your money. Round two isn’t yours. It’s mine.” “Big talk.” Jeremy circled the muscle again and again, only stopping when he wanted to blow cool air across the damp skin. “But I think it might just be talk.” Unseen, Brendan grinned. “Maybe.” As soon as Jeremy bent 114

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his head again, Brendan hooked his calf around his shoulders and flipped him to the side, reversing their positions so that Brendan now straddled his face. “Or maybe not.” “I take it back.” He gripped Brendan’s hips, holding him firmly as he licked the sensitive skin behind Brendan’s balls. When he tried to jerk away, Jeremy only tightened his grip, forcing him to remain still as he dragged his tongue over the rarely touched flesh. “Okay.” His words rumbled against Brendan. “Round two is yours.” Heat rolled through him—liquid, fiery, hair-curling flames that made his thighs quiver and his ass clench. He gripped his cock, but rather than stabilize the muscles that betrayed him, it slapped his balls against Jeremy’s cheek, prompting the other man to seek them out briefly. “Oh, no, you don’t.” Brendan pulled on his shaft, jerking his sac away. He looked down and met Jeremy’s desire-darkened eyes. “You want to fuck me, you don’t get to play around like that. Or I’ll forget who round one is really for, and bend you over the side of the bed.” “Really?” He pushed Brendan backward and sideways, pouncing as soon as Brendan hit the mattress, caging him between Jeremy’s hands and knees. “I think that I’ll play around any way I like.” Brendan skimmed his hands down Jeremy’s sides, stopping at the waistband of his pants. His fingers pushed beneath the fabric, but didn’t delve. He was too content just holding Jeremy like this. “Whatever you want,” he conceded. “I’m all yours, remember?” Jeremy smiled. “Oh right. I guess I’m not used to having somebody be all mine.” He reached between their bodies and 115

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unbuttoned his pants. “Where do you keep your stuff?” “Nightstand.” He was forced to let go when Jeremy rose and stripped out of his clothes, only sitting back down on the edge of the bed to rummage around for the condoms. Brendan rolled onto his side and kissed along Jeremy’s spine, breathing in the scent of his skin. He heard the foil rip, and then the lid of the bottle of lube pop open. Brendan pushed himself up on his arm, straining to reach the nape of Jeremy’s neck. Just as his lips brushed across Jeremy’s nape, he turned around and claimed Brendan’s mouth. With their lips fused together, Jeremy pushed him backward, pinning him to the mattress once again. The first slap of Jeremy’s covered cock was cold, but it heated quickly, aided by the fire racing beneath Brendan’s skin. He opened his legs, coiling them around Jeremy’s hips, and clung to the other man, a barrage of what felt like every emotion under the sun shuddering through his body. He refused to break the kiss. He needed it too desperately. It reminded him all too well of just how much he could’ve lost, had Mack won. The kiss continued, evolved even, as Jeremy dragged the tip of his cock up and down Brendan’s ass, spreading the slick lube. When the blunt head pressed against his hole, Brendan shuddered. He was ready for more, even though Jeremy hadn’t had the chance to stretch him. He tightened his legs around Jeremy, urging him forward. His breath caught, and he willed the tension from his muscles as Jeremy eased forward, slowly sheathing himself inside Brendan’s body. He might have goaded Jeremy into pounding into him, but once there was nowhere deeper to go, neither of them moved for countless seconds. Even Jeremy’s mouth slowed, moans replacing 116

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the sweeps of his tongue. That was enough for Brendan, at least in that moment and the one following. He’d been hungry for contact all day. Now that he had it, he was reluctant to let it go, even to have Jeremy fuck him. Jeremy braced himself on his forearms, his elbows resting just above Brendan’s shoulders, his fingers buried in Brendan’s hair. The weight of his body above him was reassuring, without the bite of pain his back. When he eased back, just an inch, Brendan pulled him forward again, as deep as he could. They maintained that gentle rocking, the joining of flesh to flesh with little room for friction, for several minutes. Jeremy seemed as content as Brendan to take the time and adjust, filling the seconds with kisses rich with as many promises as his touch. Brendan was the one to itch for more, the one to dig his heels into the round ass and spur Jeremy to lengthen his strokes. And just in case Jeremy missed the message, he murmured, “God, more. Please, Doc.” “Yes…yes…” He shifted the pace without changing his position, becoming even more overwhelming as he drove his cock into Brendan. They still shared kisses, and breath, and moans that grew louder with each hard thrust. Jeremy’s defined muscles contracted and relaxed against his body, his stomach and thighs rippling every time he rocked forward. He had never expected molding himself around another person to be so freeing. He was on the bottom, after all. Jeremy was the one driving at the moment. But it was the fact that he could wrap his arms around him, that he could slide along the sheet with every stroke, that he could focus on Jeremy’s body and his pleasure and not feel a twinge of pain or any reminder of what had happened, that liberated him. He had never been so lost in simple sex before. 117

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Except there was nothing simple at all about the way he felt for Jeremy. He was beginning to believe he wouldn’t have it any other way. “God, you feel so good. God…” Jeremy muttered a litany of compliments every time his mouth wasn’t busy with Brendan’s. He was accustomed to how vocal Jeremy was, but he still loved to hear it. Even if he could feel Jeremy’s pleasure every time he rocked against Brendan, his muscles tight, his entire frame trembling. There was no room between their stomachs for Brendan to worm his hand in and grasp his cock. He could’ve forced his way in, but that would’ve meant losing the heat and the friction of Jeremy’s slick, hard abdomen along his shaft and torso. But he didn’t need the added pressure of his hand. Already, his balls drew tight into his body, the rubbing along his length and over the tip driving him to the edge. His nails dug into Jeremy’s back, eliciting a grunt, as he met every stroke with ever increasing force. And then it all shattered as his orgasm ripped through him. His cock jerked against their bodies, but the way it was trapped painted the sticky fluid across their skin instead of shooting upward. The sensitive tip smeared in the come, heightening each sensation, and he slammed his head back into the pillow, shouting Jeremy’s name as he rode them out. Jeremy buried his face in Brendan’s neck, muffling his scream. He slammed his hips forward almost hard enough to make Brendan bite his tongue, and then a long shudder shook Jeremy’s frame. His breath came in ragged gasps, and several moments passed before either of them were completely still. “Okay.” Jeremy licked up to Brendan’s mouth. His lips were salty with their mingled sweat, and despite the weight, Brendan 118

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held him just as tightly as before. “I think round one was a success.” Brendan slid his hands up to cup the sides of Jeremy’s face, holding him still while their lips clung to each other’s. “I think the whole night has been a success.” “We make a good team, I’ve noticed.” “Good.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to have to look needy and point that out.” Jeremy rolled to his side without releasing Brendan. “I’m really sorry for everything that happened to you…but I can’t say I’m sorry it brought you to my door.” “Or the fact that it brought me naked to your front door?” “I am such a professional that I didn’t even notice your hot, naked body.” “Liar.” “All right. I might have noticed a little bit. I’m not blind, after all.” “Lucky for me.” He rested his head on Jeremy’s arm, all too aware that he was still smiling in the afterglow. “So you think you’re ready to deal with a cop with survivor’s guilt and a workaholic streak a mile wide on a more regular basis?” “Well, when you put it that way…” He tightened his hold around Brendan. “Of course, I’m ready. And I hope it’s a very regular basis.” “Very regular.” He would make it be. If he’d learned anything from this ordeal with Mack, it was not to let everything else pass him by. Life was to be noticed. Especially when you wore death on your skin.

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JAMIE CRAIG

Jamie Craig is the collaborative efforts of Pepper Espinoza and Vivien Dean. Both successful authors on their own, they began working together in early 2006. Pepper lives with her husband and cats in Utah, where she attends graduate school, and Vivien resides in northern California with her husband and two children.

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Don’t miss Sticks And Stones by Jamie Craig, available at AmberAllure.com! Complementing each other on the dance floor isn’t enough to form a relationship. Is it? It’s 1953, and Hollywood is booming with extravagant musicals. Coming off a string of hits with MGM, Paul Dunham couldn’t be hotter. Hoping to capitalize on Paul’s popularity, the studio announces its attention to pair him with the latest actor to make a splash, Jack Wells. It seems like a match made in heaven, except for the fact that Paul can’t stand Jack. He hates the way Jack acts, and he hates Jack’s blue eyes, and he especially hates the fact that Jack is one of the most talented dancers he has ever met.

Jack, however, doesn’t hate Paul. In fact, everything Paul does fascinates him. After their first meeting, Jack is determined to win Paul over, and he won’t back down until Paul admits that the two of them are perfect partners…in every way…

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