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Arresting Behaviour
ISBN # 978-1-78184-355-0
©Copyright Morticia Knight 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2013
Edited by Sue Meadows
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
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of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL,
United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This
story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
This story contains 142 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book
containing 3 pages.
Book two in the Uniform Encounters Series
Native American Quinn and Detective Jake come from two opposing worlds. But when opposites
attract, the result is explosive.
The Bondage Butcher has just claimed his third victim, and newly promoted homicide
detective Jake Gutierrez is anxious to speak to the one man who has been intimate with all
three victims—Quinn Verdugo. The reclusive and mysterious artist and poet stays just out of
Jake’s grasp, until one night when they catch him trespassing at his ancestors’ ancient ruins.
Quinn is devastated by the recent murders, and for the men he once dallied with. Not
trusting his heart to anyone since a cruel rejection in his teens, he trusts the police
department of Mesa, Arizona even less. He is determined to find the bastard who is
committing these gruesome murders, and take care of things himself.
When Jake and Quinn finally meet face to face in the interrogation room, both men are
startled at the direction things take. Agreeing to work together, they have no idea the
dangers they have yet to face. But what is more dangerous—the murderer, or the spark that
has been created between the two very combustible men?
Dedication
To my best friend ever—Nosferatusbutt
Many, many thanks to my editor, Sue Meadows, for her help with the research and facts
pertaining to the Native American elements of this story.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Chevy Blazer: General Motors Corporation
Buick: General Motors Corporation
The Mighty Quinn: Bob Dylan
Corona: Grupo Modelo
Ford Ranger: Ford Motor Company
Hurt: Trent Reznor
Volvo: Ford Motor Company
Hilton: Hilton Worldwide
Pod People: Warner Bros.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
6
Chapter One
“Please…you don’t have to do this.”
John’s whimpering tone made the man sick. He wasn’t worth the air he was taking up
on the earth. That was why he had to be the next one to die. He edged closer to the tanned
and buff John who was tied spreadeagled to the small bed, bare-chested with just his tattered
jeans left on in the stuffy and dirty motel room. The window cooler continued rattling and
struggling to keep the air to a bearable temperature in the Arizona desert heat, and he was
almost hypnotised by the look of abject terror on his victim’s face.
“Actually, John. Yes I do. You disgust me. Everything about you is revolting.”
“I don’t understand…”
It looked like the thirtyish John’s wide, green eyes were filling with water.
Tears. God, it gets worse.
John’s pleading tone snapped him out of his reverie.
“Of course you don’t, you miscreant. Somehow the inherent weakness that you envelop
around you like a cloak of honour has softened your mind. I would have to say that the truly
most revolting thing you’ve done today—and there are so many I could choose from—was
your offer to suck my dick if I would just let you live. Really? That’s all you’ve got? How
pathetic.”
John made a little choking sound and the man knew he was fighting back sobs.
“Anything. I’ll do anything you want.”
“True. You will. And what I want for you to do right now is die.”
John’s eyes widened even farther in sheer panic and horror, and as he opened his
mouth to yell, the killer plunged the large hunting knife right into it, pinning his head to the
bed. His final expression—eyes bulging and mouth held in the last throes of a scream for his
life—would send a message that not only would weakness not be tolerated, but that it was
punishable by death.
* * * *
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
7
“I’m afraid we’ve got another one, Jake. Aren’t you glad you joined homicide this
month?”
Jake gave Maggie, his partner, the lopsided grin that he knew made one dimple in his
left cheek stand out, and typically prompted a tease out of her. But there were bigger issues
at hand, and he waited for her to join him at his desk. She had just come from the lieutenant’s
office with info on the latest murder. Jake had got her text whilst he was down the street at
the roach coach that parked near the precinct. They had the best chorizo tacos known to
mankind—but he would never let his nana know that—his grandma would smack him
upside his head for suggesting that hers were anything less than the ultimate.
“That’s what I’m here for, right? I’d better not start complaining now. I’ll be back
trolling the streets of Mesa.”
“I wasn’t talking about your nightlife mijo, just the job.”
Jake shook his head, chuckling a little. It always cracked him up when the five-foot-two
Irish redhead used Spanish—her accent was more Brooklyn than Baja. They’d started at the
academy together five years earlier, right after she’d moved to Arizona from New York. She
said she’d had enough cold and snow to last her a lifetime, and he had teased her that with
her pale skin, she’d never survive the first furnace-like summer. But she was a toughie, and
she had a lot of smarts. Jake had learnt to not only like the fiery petite woman, but to respect
her as well. The beginnings of their relationship had been awkward though when she had
developed a serious crush on him. He’d had to gently explain to her that he loved her as a
friend only, and that he was only interested in men. Once she’d got over her hurt and
disappointment, they had become best buddies. She had actually made homicide a full year
before him, and he had been excited for her. Once he’d moved up in the ranks, and been
partnered with her, it had got even better.
They were both pretty young to have moved ahead, but the Mesa area had seen such a
huge growth spurt in the last decade and a half, that the department had unfortunately
needed to increase their homicide team sooner, rather than later. There had also been some
serious juggling of positions after two senior investigators, Clark and Johnson, had botched
up a recent arson investigation, casting aspersions on the city’s beloved fire chief. In addition,
none of the current detectives in homicide had any long-term experience, their most
seasoned veterans retiring or transferring out within the last six months—bad for Mesa, good
for Jake’s rapid career advancement.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
8
“So…” said Jake, still waiting as she gathered her things, “Are we getting a briefing?”
Maggie turned back into her serious mode. “Actually, the lieutenant needs us to head
out there immediately, he already handed me what we know so far. Also, it’s about a half
hour out of town—I’d say fifteen minutes past Gold Canyon on Highway 60, and with the
September temps this bad—well—the body…”
“Huh, out in the middle of nowhere—I gotcha. Fill me in on the way over.”
They drove the police issue SUV out to the murder site, and Maggie gave him the few
details she had at this stage on why the sheriffs in Gold Canyon—the closest location to the
murder site—were convinced that this was another one of The Bondage Butcher’s killings. If
so, it would be the third one.
“For starters, the killer left the hunting knife impaled in the victim—this time in his
mouth—and the male victim was tied up. We don’t know for sure yet if he was homosexual,
but he checked into an out of the way motel known for its gay hookups and hourly rates.”
Maggie paused as she pulled the SUV out into the afternoon traffic. Jake pondered the
info he’d been given so far. It was a lot of pressure on him to be assigned to such a high-
profile case, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t get lost in that. Other than the obvious
shake-ups in the department, he wasn’t completely sure why they had been given such a
monumental task that more seasoned investigators should have received. But he had also
overheard the lieutenant commenting to the captain about Jake’s dark Hispanic looks and
Maggie’s unassuming and non-threatening appearance. Was that supposed to encourage the
local Native population to suddenly start telling law enforcement everything they knew
about the main suspect—Quinn—who was from one of the main tribes of the area?
Yeah. Right. And Maggie is non-threatening only if you’ve never had to deal with her.
As if on cue, Maggie yelled out a colourful stream of obscenities directed at the traffic
headed out of town.
“Isn’t it possible this is a copycat?” said Jake, “Some freaky sex game gone wrong, or
some psycho taking advantage of the headlines from the other killings?”
“Yes. That’s possible. Except the motel owner told the sheriff that he’s seen this same
dead guy with the one…the only…can you guess?”
“Quinn.”
“Yup. See? That’s why I wanted you as my partner. You’re not even a little bit stupid.”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
9
“Uh-huh. Except that we can’t seem to find anything tying this Quinn guy to the
killings, other than him knowing the victims. Well, maybe he slipped up this time.”
“I hope so. I’m dying to question this guy, and with him refusing to come in, avoiding
us like the grim reaper, we can only hope we get some probable cause to arrest him. I’d take
unpaid parking tickets at this point.”
“I’m with you on that one.”
After finally escaping the urban sprawl of Mesa, they settled into some theories as to
why—or why not—Quinn might be their man. One of the greatest things about their
partnership as investigators was the fact that they were such good friends. They could banter
back and forth in jest, but they were also tuned into each other when it came to their police
work. Like an old married couple that finished each other’s sentences, their brainstorming
was a thing to behold. It was the main reason Jake was able to hang onto some semblance of
confidence in his new position—he truly believed that he and Maggie had what it took to be
great detectives one day.
Shortly after they passed through Gold Canyon, they took one of the exits, then veered
off onto a side road. Within a few minutes, they turned up the dirt and gravel driveway of a
fairly run-down motel consisting of just two rows in an L-shape. The office was at the end of
the building closest to the driveway. Prickly pear cacti that looked as though they were once
considered a form of landscaping were now pretty ratty and dried up. It was as though the
motel and the surrounding land were part of some sort of vortex of decay.
It was obvious which room the body was located in—yellow crime scene tape, a sheriff
and his car, as well as a scruffy, skinny looking guy in a wife-beater tank and ripped up jeans
gathered at the room, farthest from the office. It made sense that the murderer would have
wanted as much solitude as possible to carry out his gruesome deed.
“Who’s doing the forensics on this one?” asked Jake, as Maggie pulled the SUV next to
the Sheriff’s cruiser.
“Barry. He should be right behind us. He was testifying downtown, but they sent
someone to go grab him while you and I were getting ready to go.”
“Gotcha. That’s good. He’s been at every scene so things will remain consistent.”
“Did you hear that the new girl Alicia and him aren’t getting along?”
They both climbed out of the black Chevy Blazer.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
10
“Really,” said Jake, a big lover of any juicy gossip—part of why he and Maggie got
along so well—she always had the best stories about everyone at the station.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “She keeps throwing around her whole ‘I took summer classes at
Quantico’ thing, and it’s driving him crazy. He’s started calling her ‘Clarice’ to get under her
skin.”
Jake laughed softly to himself as the Sheriff approached them.
“You’ll have to give me more details later, Mags.”
Without even extending his hand, the no-nonsense, seasoned Sheriff started right in.
“I’m Sheriff Parsons. Glad you could make it before dark. We need to get the coroner in
here as soon as possible, as I have a town to attend to.”
Jake cleared his throat. Although he was unhappy with the attitude the older man was
taking with them, he realised that the Sheriff was probably not too thrilled that a potential
serial killer had descended upon his small town.
“Yes, sir. We’re going to get the body removed as soon as possible, forensics is on their
way. Once we get some information from you, I’m sure it won’t be a problem to go and
handle whatever it is you need to take care of.”
Jake was working as hard as he could to try to keep his tone even and professional.
During his performance reviews in the almost five years he’d been on the force, the one thing
that came up repeatedly was his smart mouth. Sometimes that sarcasm would just creep into
his sentences without him even noticing it. So it was an area he’d been working hard on to
improve. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having much luck today it would seem.
“Excuse me? What do you mean by that? Are you inferring that the welfare of the town
which has been entrusted to me is of little significance?”
Jake groaned inwardly. “No, sir, I…”
Maggie jumped in on top of him. “Sheriff. We’re here to do a job just as you are. No
one’s making any judgements about anyone. We’re just as anxious as you are to get things
underway here.”
The sheriff looked down at the tiny woman, and Jake noted that her stance projected
that she was not intimidated in any way. Without commenting, the Sheriff handed her some
notes on the crime scene he’d already taken. Jake held back a smile, only slightly miffed that
she had jumped to his defence. He knew it came from a good place, and he didn’t want to be
like the other guys at the station either. There were those who gave her a hard time not only
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
11
for being a woman, but for being a small woman in law enforcement. It was in the same vein
that the few who suspected that he was gay didn’t openly taunt him, but could be very cruel
in other ways. Sometimes he would be walking by, and he could tell they were whispering
about him, or they would deliberately clear the locker room when changing or showering. So
any time someone stood up for him, he didn’t want to disregard it.
“Well then,” said Jake. “Shall we?”
The scruffy guy had been standing back this whole time, nervously smoking a cigarette
and looking as though the next gust of hot desert wind would blow him down the gravel
driveway as easily as a tumbleweed. Maggie handed Jake the information that the Sheriff
had already gathered from what turned out to be the motel owner.
They approached him as he stood just outside the crime scene. He began to stutter and
stammer at Maggie and Jake.
“I didn’t see n-nuthin’, I swear, nuthin’! I didn’t hear n-nuthin’ either, can I go now? I’m
closing up for tonight, ain’t no one c-come by these last few hours anyway. I n-need a drink
man, I ain’t seen nuthin’.”
Jake stopped in front of the guy he’d assumed was about fifty or sixty years old from
far away. Up close, he realised he was actually probably still in his thirties.
“What’s your name, sir?” asked Jake.
“You ain’t no cop. You ain’t got no uniform on. I don’t have to tell you n-nuthin’.”
This guy sure knows a lot about nothing.
Jake pulled out his detective’s badge from his shirt pocket. With the desert heat still in
the hundreds even in late September, he didn’t wear a blazer. Both he and Maggie typically
wore polo shirts, or short sleeve dress shirts, and kept their badges either in their pants
pocket or shirt pocket. Their guns, however, were right on their hips for easy access.
“Is this clear to you?” Jake asked the dishevelled motel owner, as he showed him the
badge.
“Yeah, it’s clear. But I already told everything to the Sheriff which is…”
“Nuthin’?” Jake interjected.
Scruffy guy just growled under his breath. “My n-name’s Stevie. I run this place for m-
my grampa cause he’s too old.”
“Where’s Grampa?”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
12
“He’s in the home, and I’m stuck out here. It’s p-pretty much turned into a queer joint
since it’s so far out of the way. They know I’ll rent it b-by the hour. Hell, I’ll take whatever I
c-can get to make sure I got m-my smokes and beer. Ain’t n-never no tourists unless they’s
lost.”
Jake didn’t react to the ‘queer’ remark, especially as he’d heard every type of slur there
was—and not just the homosexual ones—since he’d been on the force.
“Okay, Stevie, and had you ever seen the victim before?”
“Yeah. That’s what I told Sheriff Parsons already. John’s b-been here before—he’s
one…uh…those rent boys I think they call ‘em, you know, like a whore for g-guys.”
“I see. Are you sure he’s the same one?”
Stevie’s fingers started shaking nervously, and he struggled to light up another
cigarette. “I ain’t n-never seen n-nuthin’ like that before. It’s l-like a horror m-movie in there.
I’m scared to even c-come back here ever again. What if the killer c-comes after me?”
Jake took a deep breath. He could see the guy was starting to lose it. He was probably
still in a bit of shock, and Jake had to be very careful not to push him too much, or he could
become too emotional, then Jake would never get anything coherent out of him.
“I can assure you, Stevie,” Jake said calmly, “The man who did this was after a specific
type of person. A queer, like you said. Now you’re not one of those are you?”
“Hell no!”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, but it never hurts to be cautious, and to call
nine-one-one if you feel you need any help. But in the meantime, we need your help to get
this guy off the streets as quickly as we can, so that you never have to worry about him ever
again. Sound good?”
“Yeah, all right. But I just don’t know what else I c-can do.”
“Think real hard, Stevie, now I know you said you saw nothing last night, and you told
Sheriff Parsons that he checked in alone at about”—Jake looked at the notes that Maggie had
handed him—“eleven p.m., but can you think of another time when John came here with
someone else, or you saw him with someone else?”
“Yeah. I saw him with that tall injun guy. His name is Quinn.”
“And how do you know his name?”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
13
“Well, he used to always pay for the room, and it was on his card. But he wasn’t much
of a talker. I guess he was saving his mouth for other things.” Stevie chuckled at his own
clever joke.
Jake resisted rolling his eyes. “I see. Did you ever see them fight, or did John ever say
anything about Quinn being abusive or that he was scared of him for any reason? Anything
you can remember, no matter how small, could help.”
“Nah. I don’t think that guy was using his mouth for talking neither.”
“Okay, Stevie. Here’s my card, and you call if anything else comes to mind, okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a date with a bottle.”
The scruffy guy shuffled away, leaving Jake and Maggie to go and take a look at the
body. By this time, the window unit was off, and the flies were rampant in the room. A sickly
sweet smell filled the air, and he sincerely hoped that Barry was hauling his ass out to the
motel as quickly as possible.
The body was presumably exactly as it had been found. Stevie had sworn to the Sheriff
he’d barely stepped into the room, let alone disturbed the body. It was dim inside—the only
light was from the blazing sun pouring in about five feet into the room through the doorway.
Jake tried the wall switch—after putting gloves on—but it didn’t work. He pulled out his
flashlight, not advancing any farther inside to avoid contaminating the scene. Casting his
flashlight beam about the room, it landed on the victim’s face. He started with a sudden jolt
of adrenaline—John’s head looked more like a grisly Halloween prop than someone who had
been vibrant and alive less than twenty-four hours before. A memory of John clutched at his
heart.
About a year prior, Jake had picked up John on Main Street on the east side of Mesa.
There were several low rent motels there, and it was easy to do a prostitution bust, especially
in the summer and on weekend nights. Even though Mesa had swelled in population, and
was considered part of the Phoenix sprawl, it was a solid family city, and the intention was to
keep it that way.
Jake remembered the young man well. He was a stunning example of male hotness.
Almost six feet tall, with longish blond hair and a tanned, built body, he looked like a surfer
who had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and had found himself lost in the desert. His
demeanour had been like that of a gentle giant, friendly and sweet, but maybe not the
sharpest tool in the shed. Jake had tried counselling the man that night, had tried to reach
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
14
him, but John had been tweaking on crystal, and it had been impossible to connect with him
on any meaningful level. It was just so sad for Jake to see someone like that, and he always
hoped that the work he did on the force would somehow break through and help at least a
few people in a positive way.
They heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel, and turned to see Barry’s beat-up sedan
pulling in. Jake had no idea why the forensics master insisted on driving the seventies Buick
nightmare. He was always saying, ‘They don’t make ’em like this anymore’. It made him
sound like an old man, but he was actually only in his mid-forties, a little thick around the
middle and with prematurely white—but lush—hair. Still, he was just as grumpy as if he’d
been a hundred and seven and denied a seat at bingo.
“Are you guys fucking up my crime scene? Get the hell out of there!”
“Nice to see you too,” said Maggie, completely unruffled by his growly manner. “We
didn’t desecrate anything, your lordship. I promise you we know what we’re doing.”
Barry skidded to a stop and tried to hide a little smile forming at the corner of his lips.
Jake imagined he didn’t dare have his reputation as an unmitigated bastard ruined.
“Oh yeah? Are you sure you young ‘uns have graduated from the Academy yet? Aah,
never mind all that, what have we got?”
Maggie filled him in, whilst Jake began to look around the property. They had at least a
good couple of hours light left, and he planned on scouring the entire area for tracks,
dropped cigarette butts or anything else that might give him some clue as to who was
perpetrating these killings. Over by the office door, he noticed what looked like a small
crumpled piece of paper on the ground. Its orange hue had drawn his eye, so he picked it up
and smoothed it out. It turned out to actually be a business card, and it looked as though it
had been washed a few times—it was soft and faded.
Maybe it had been living in someone’s jeans for a while, got washed and then came out when a
wallet or hand was pulled from a pocket.
Jake visualised everything when he was trying to piece together the puzzle of a crime,
and he could imagine this exact scenario. But who had dropped it? He read the card. The
front was the name of an establishment in Mesa he wasn’t familiar with. It was called the Lo-
Fi Coffee House, and gave the impression of being a somewhat artsy place. Jake turned it
over. It simply said, ‘Quinn. 8:00 Tuesday’. Had it belonged to John? There was no question
that he had had some type of relationship with him. It didn’t seem likely it was Quinn’s, as it
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
15
would be silly for him to write his own name on the card. Or did it belong to a third, yet
unknown party?
It was time to go back and try to figure out how to corner his number one suspect—
Quinn. Because as he stared at the room where John’s corpse lay, he realised something—the
time between the murders was diminishing. If his calculations were correct, the next one
would take place within a couple of weeks. They were going to need to get a lucky break in
the case very soon.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
16
Chapter Two
Quinn stared at the painting before him. It had taken on a decidedly macabre quality.
His art was typically tinged with angst and sometimes darkness, but this was different. Red
slashes like sprays of blood desecrated the proud eagle caught in mid-flight. With his left
hand, he added another swipe of the scarlet colour. His paintings had a very unique style,
and they sold well at local galleries. The images in his art were not literal, more like if you
had taken a very blurred photo in a dim room or as the sun was disappearing on the horizon.
The colours came from this land, his birthplace - russet, amber, sage, ochre and splashes of
the deep reds, pinks and blues that could be seen on the hills when the waning or dawning
light hit them a certain way.
Lately, his paintings had been selling well enough that he rarely had to take on odd
handyman jobs to keep himself going. It also gave him more time to work on his poetry, and
perform it at some of the open mic nights in the area, something new for him. As it was, he
didn’t need much to sustain himself. He was content to live simply. He had taken on the
home his grandfather had raised him in—a small structure of about a thousand square feet—
and he had turned it into his own personal sanctuary. It was situated on the large Gila River
Indian Community Reservation, near the small town of Blackwater and just south of Phoenix
and Mesa. It was one of the houses built decades before, during another era of Native
American oppression, but Quinn had been determined to make it his own—leaving no
remaining vestiges of its origins. He was proud to be an Akimel O’dham native on his father’s
side, and his home reflected that.
After gutting the inside, it now had a hole in the centre of the roof, and he had placed a
clay chimenea heating and cooking stove beneath it. A tall funnel shape came up from the
round belly of the stove, and the smoke escaped through the roof. He had also devised a
way—with a modified chimney cap
—
to close it off when the really heavy monsoon rains
came. On one side—farthest from the entrance—was his sleeping area, which consisted of a
large mattress on the floor and several blankets his grandmother had hand-woven herself.
On the right side of the entrance, there was a table for eating and a sink with a counter next
to an old, small refrigerator. To the left, he had a large window looking out onto the desert
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
17
plains, and this is where he created. There was only one place to sit—other than at the table
or outside—and that was a small settee, also covered with more of his grandmother’s
blankets. A few tribal artefacts adorned his walls, all from his family. In his younger years he
had been very adept at charcoal sketches, and he still retained a few. He’d become
disenchanted with them at one point, feeling confined by that medium, and it was then that
he had turned to using oils. That was when his art had exploded, and he’d known he had
really come into himself.
Quinn was so completely engrossed in his latest work, he hadn’t noticed his only true
friend, Richard, until he was winding his way through the cacti, sage and other desert plants
towards his front door. It was usually only Richard who came to see him—hardly anyone
from the rez ever bothered him anymore. When he’d hit seventeen, he’d been shamed by one
of the elders after being caught trying to make the moves on another young tribe member.
Quinn had completely misunderstood the feelings between them, and had grabbed the boy’s
crotch and tried to kiss him. After punching Quinn in the mouth, he’d run away and told his
father, who had also happened to be on the council. Apparently, the life accepting
philosophy he had been raised with wasn’t necessarily the belief of the entire tribe. There had
been some division over it—some taking Quinn’s side, and others denouncing him for being
a queer. It was a quick and upsetting lesson that humans were humans—no matter what race
they were. He’d determined from that point on that he would limit his emotional
entanglements with people, and had decided to retreat to the edge of the land and live by
himself. He mused that his grandfather had chosen this location well—it had always been
said that the man had the sight.
His main solace—other than his art—was that his boyhood best friend Richard had
never changed the way he acted towards him, and his grandfather had loved him with all of
his heart until the day he died.
This had all gone down over ten years before, and he had increasingly turned to the
outside world to find sexual partners. He didn’t dare ever try to find someone he could be
with on the rez again, and he made sure to keep to himself. He never brought any of his
temporary lovers to his home—that was his sacred space. He rarely attended ceremonies or
any other group gatherings anymore either, preferring to honour his ancestors in his own
way, on his personal piece of the land.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
18
It had been easy enough to find partners. He cared nothing about his attractiveness, yet
he knew others found him appealing. He had been told many times that he was someone’s
dream man, that his dark skinned and hairless muscled body was irresistible and that his
brown, heavily lashed eyes were intoxicating, his full sensuous lips swoon-worthy. Oh the
corny lines he had heard them say. The men he had hooked up with had loved to run their
fingers through his long black hair and tell him that he was the only one they had ever truly
loved. It made him sick how these men worshipped physical beauty over spirit. Quinn didn’t
believe that their love for him was genuine, or that it went in any way beyond some
perceived sexual allure. Even though he tended to choose his partners for the physical
attributes that he enjoyed, he never deluded himself that it was love the way his partners
seemed to.
The way he saw it, his body was a temple that he honoured and took care of. He
remained in excellent physical shape due to his long hikes and rock climbing, communing
with the earth. But he did not do it to entice a sexual partner. So he had resigned himself to
staying alone, and only connecting with another man physically when he couldn’t resist. He
felt he was pitiful in that regard, and that he shouldn’t crave a man’s touch and lips the way
he did so often. It had nothing to do with being ashamed of his sexuality—he had been
formed by the Great Spirits this way, and he accepted it, even if others didn’t. But his
constant need to take a man, to plunder his body until he was weak from Quinn’s ravages,
did make him feel as though he were pathetic somehow. He refused to believe that it was
because he was really longing for a lasting emotional connection, as Richard had observed on
several occasions.
Richard made his way to Quinn’s door, and he opened it before his friend even had the
chance to knock.
“Hey bro’, I thought I’d come and give you some news, since you’re so cut off out
here.”
One of the main ways that Quinn kept himself shielded from the world was by not
having any internet, television or phone access. He kept a cell phone, but it was for his use
only, and he only turned it on when he wanted to make a date, or for emergencies. He had
no family since his grandfather had passed, and he had never even known his parents. They
had been killed in a car crash when he’d been less than a year old. He had always wondered
where his name Quinn came from, and it wasn’t until he’d been older that his grandfather
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
19
had confessed that it was from an old song ‘The Mighty Quinn’, about an Eskimo. When he’d
pushed further, having no clue what his grandfather had meant, he’d found out that his
mother was actually a Native Alaskan, and brought home by his dad after he’d left the rez
for a while to get work on the Alaska pipeline. Another good reason why he felt he was not
as accepted, as he had hoped he would be in his younger years, by the tribe that he had been
raised in.
Richard made his way over to the settee that faced the painting with the red slashes.
“Damn, bro’—what’s up with that?”
Quinn went to put a kettle on the chimenea in the middle of the open room.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been feeling myself these last few weeks, and the spirits that
usually speak to me when I paint don’t seem to be there.”
He couldn’t look Richard in the eye, he suddenly felt too exposed by having his long-
time friend gaze at the unfinished work.
“This whole thing is starting to get to you I bet.”
Quinn didn’t like the look of pity on Richard’s face—he was not a man to be pitied.
“What whole thing?” he asked feigning ignorance about the killings of two men that he
had been sexually involved with.
“Don’t fuck with me bro’, you know ‘what thing’. That doesn’t make this any easier…”
Quinn froze and put down the kettle he had just been getting ready to heat up.
“What is it?” His heart tightened. He realised it had been several days since he’d heard
from Cole. Had he been slaughtered too?
“I saw that there’s been another killing on the news, and they’re calling it the work of
The Bondage Butcher. I…wanted to come down here and let you know. It happened at the
Roadrunner motel off Highway 60, just on the other side of…”
“I know where it is,” Quinn said sharply.
“Oh. I see. Well, did you know a guy named John Shepherd?”
Quinn closed his eyes, and turned towards his window so that Richard couldn’t see any
emotion on his face.
“Why the fuck is this happening?” He growled under his breath.
He heard Richard stand up, and knew his friend was going to try to comfort him. He
didn’t need comfort—he needed revenge. He wanted to find this bastard and take him down
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
20
himself, before the bumbling idiots on Mesa’s police force fucked everything up. If he could
just figure out the why, he was sure he could solve the puzzle of the murders.
Just before Richard reached him, he said, “Please leave. I’m sorry, I need to be alone.”
There was a pause, then Richard said, “You always need to be alone. I think that might
be your whole problem.”
After Richard left, Quinn went and lay down on his mattress, placing his hands behind
his head. From there, he had a view of the sky, the sunset leaving beautiful streaks of colour,
orange and red, similar to what he had just done to his eagle. To him, it was a sign. He would
leave the painting the way it was, maybe just adding the burnt orange hues to complete it.
He tried to think only of the painting, but instead all he could see was John’s sweet face. He
saw the expression that had been on his face when Quinn’s cock had been buried to the hilt
in his gloriously tanned ass—a look of pure rapture every time he’d plunged harder and
deeper into him.
John had always been such an open and expressive man. Even though he felt more
warmth towards John than he had had with any other partner, there had never been the hint
of any kind of long-lasting relationship between them. John had settled into an unfortunate
lifestyle of prostitution and abusing crystal meth. What had once been a promising
modelling and acting career had never panned out, and the blond hunk had turned to drugs
to feel good again. Once he’d been caught in its clutches, he had sold his body to ensure the
continuing speed high.
Now he was dead, and Quinn felt like a piece of shit. How could this be happening?
John hadn’t deserved to die like that, at the hands of some depraved monster.
Maybe if I had tried harder with him, helped him get out of town somehow…
His thoughts turned to Cole, and all the other men he had even had the briefest
dalliance with. Would he be responsible for their deaths too? He sat up, and rummaged in
his woven satchel for the cell phone he rarely used. He needed to find a way to meet Cole
without the cops catching up to him. He had nothing to say to those machines of the
government, and knew they were not trying to find the real killer. Quinn was certain their
only interest was to pin the whole thing on him, then put him away so that they could pat
themselves on the back and tell each other how incredible they were.
He planned on taking care of the problem in his own way.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
21
* * * *
Jake was back at the station after a long, hot, dusty afternoon and part of the evening at
the Roadrunner motel. Barry had very little to work with, other than to say that whoever had
committed the killings was left-handed and very strong. He couldn’t find any DNA traces on
the victim, so whoever was responsible for the three murders so far, had either been very
careful, or very lucky, to not have any defensive wounds, or to have left any other traces
behind. He’d bagged the knife, and brought it back to the lab for closer inspection, and
hoped to give them a report on that soon. Also, none of the men had been sexually molested
in any way, so obviously the killer was smart enough not to have had too close of contact
with his victims. Either that or the killings had nothing to do with a sexual thrill. They had
also brought back some cigarette butts from outside the motel that were fairly fresh—and not
Stevie’s brand—but who knew if that would lead anywhere.
If only he could get hold of Quinn.
Tired and frustrated, Jake leaned his elbows on his desk, and put his head in his hands.
Maggie’s voice next to him made him jump.
“Hey, sorry,” she said, sounding sympathetic. “You know, it’s after eight o’clock, and
there’s not really much more we can do tonight. Why don’t you go and get some rest? I know
that’s my plan.”
“Yeah,” sighed Jake. “Maybe. I was kind of hoping to go over the list of possible guys
that Quinn has hooked up with before. I know we’ve gone over it a hundred times, but there
must be some we’re missing. I mean, how did this John guy slip under our radar?”
Jake felt really bad about the latest victim. After the second murder, when Quinn had
become their top suspect, they had questioned as many of his associates as they could find to
figure out whom he had been in relationships with. They deemed it was only right to notify
these men to be careful, and where they were able, put tails on the guys he had been most
recently involved with. Somehow, John’s name had never come up, but how many others
were there like that? Especially since it appeared that this Quinn guy was a walking hard-on.
“Come on, Jake, there’s nothing we could have done if Quinn is trying to hide his
partners. Obviously, he was being crafty by choosing someone that we hadn’t gotten to. He
probably figured out we were going to go after his known partners.”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
22
Jake pondered that. It certainly seemed that way. Yet, it was all too neat and tidy
somehow.
“I don’t know, Mags. You know how I am, I get feelings about things. And this just
seems off. But you’re right about one thing, I need to rest my brain, if nothing else. That
damn sun sucked the life right out of me today.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” She laughed. “Does this mean you’ll quit teasing me about being a
lightweight when it comes to this bastard heat?”
Jake looked up at the petite woman. “All right shorty, but next time, we stop and buy
some damn ice water before going out to any butt ugly decrepit motels in the middle of
nowhere.”
“I hear that. I’ll see ya’ bright and early.”
Jake gave his partner the lopsided grin and leant back in his chair. He actually really
liked the station when it was this quiet. It was very peaceful, and many times he had been
able to work stuff out in his head that eventually helped on a case. However, he had to admit
he had been stupid today by going out there without any water. He knew that being in
Arizona, he couldn’t mess around, and typically kept something to drink with him all the
time out of habit. But they had been in such a hurry to get out there, they hadn’t even
considered where they’d been going, and that it wouldn’t be near anything. He had been
terrified to drink the tap water, and their delightful host had taken off almost right away to
hit the nearest bar after they’d questioned him. As a result, his body felt a little weak
overall—he might even have a touch of sunstroke. He’d never live it down if any of his
fellow officers got wind of that—he had enough to deal with already with their snide ‘light in
the loafers’ remarks, and other stupid comments.
Jake idly shuffled through the limited file they had on Quinn. In it was a picture they
had got from inside a book of poetry that Quinn had had published. It was easy to see why
so many men wanted to fuck him. The man was an amazing example of male hotness.
Despite being tired and wiped out, one look at that photo, and now all he could really think
about at the moment was getting laid. It had been quite a while, by his own choice. Once he
had been promoted to homicide, he had decided to quit hooking up just for sex, and to start
looking for an actual relationship. A connection that had more to do with love than just sex.
Of course, the sex still needed to be smoking hot, so there was that. But there was something
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
23
else dancing around in the back of his mind—something he would never admit to anyone,
especially not to Maggie.
When Quinn had first become a suspect and they’d added that photo to their case files,
Jake’s breath had literally been taken away. The man was the epitome of everything that he
found attractive—tall, well-built, broad-shouldered, toffee-coloured skin, strong jawline,
dark almond eyes and luscious black hair that fell just past his shoulders.
What I wouldn’t give to get me a piece of that.
Remembering his reaction after first seeing that photo, Jake’s face flushed immediately.
He should be ashamed. Here he was, a homicide detective wanting to get fucked by a
potential serial killer. It should rightfully make him queasy, yet any time he looked at that
picture, he would get a good, strong boner coming on. All in all, it made him feel like a piece
of crap, and this whole forced celibacy thing he was on needed to come to a temporary end.
Literally.
In the past when he’d wanted some good action, he’d driven into nearby Phoenix
where he knew a few guys, but there was no way he was up for that drive after the day he’d
had. As an officer of the law, he had to be careful locally, but there was one possibility. Every
once in a while he’d hooked up with an older guy, Reggie, over at Cactus Joe’s—a local bar
and grill that some of the officers and fire personnel used as a hangout. He would only take a
chance if none of his colleagues were around.
What the hell. I’ll go for a beer, and if he’s there, fine. If not—I’ll just go home and rub one out.
After closing his files, then tidying up, Jake headed home to get a quick shower and to
change. His current ripened state wasn’t going to attract much of anything—except maybe
flies. Within the hour, he had made it to Cactus Joe’s, and he was glad to see that there was
no one from either his station, or the fire stations hanging around. If it had been too full up
with guys that he knew, he would’ve bailed. To be seen leaving with Reggie—or any other
guy—would be awkward at the very least.
He unfortunately couldn’t see Reggie either, so he had just about resigned himself to
finishing his Corona and taking off when his target sauntered in. The fit, fortyish, if
somewhat well-used man barely glanced in his direction, then headed to the men’s room—
any times in the past that had been the cue. Jake slugged the rest of his beer and set it on the
bar, slid off the stool and proceeded to the restroom in the back, past the pool tables.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
24
Pushing open the door, he was relieved to see Reggie leaning against one of the sinks,
as if waiting for Jake’s arrival. He was also glad to see that no one else was in there. “Feeling
in need of some company tonight officer?”
Obviously the man remembered him.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind some company. Do you have a place?”
“Mmmm, I see. Not in a hurry. Cause, you know, I could always lock the door here…”
“That’s not going to happen Reggie, and you know it. So, are you available?”
“Oh I’m always available for some of that hot, Latin action, baby. How about the Triple
Seven at the end of Main?”
“Yeah, I know it. You go on ahead, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Don’t keep me waiting, officer, that cute little ass of yours is making me hard already.”
Reggie smacked his behind on the way out, and Jake looked in the mirror.
Why can’t it be Quinn instead?
That only served to add to his feelings of disgust about himself, so he immediately
pushed it away. His determination to only become physically involved with someone he was
trying to have a relationship with had lasted a whole two months. But as much as he knew
being hung up on a potential murderer was not a good thing, he couldn’t help but sense
there was something more to this Quinn. And Jake wanted to find out exactly what that was.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
25
Chapter Three
Quinn drove his pickup out to the ancient Hohokam ruins in Coolidge. The small group
of caliche structures in the middle of the desert were one of the few traces left of this
mysterious people, who had seemed to disappear off the face of the planet over five hundred
years ago. No one really knew what had happened to them, and there were several wild
speculations about what exactly had occurred to cause their disappearance - some even
involving alien visitations. The Hohokam were advanced for their time, particularly for their
irrigation techniques, and at these particular ruins, there was evidence that they had been
tracking the constellations in the sky. Despite many theories, no one really knew what any of
it meant, but it added to the mystery and interest surrounding them. It was also a big tourist
attraction.
Disgusting.
Several local tribes claimed to be the true descendants of the Hohokam—Quinn’s
among them. He felt a deep connection with them, and believed the elders knew of what
they spoke, but since finding out he was half Alaskan Native—of Eskimo origin—he felt
conflicted. It only added to his feelings of being cast aside, and not belonging to any one
group. He wondered if he would just always be alone—never belong anywhere or to anyone.
Shaking off his melancholy, he focused on the meeting place behind the visitor centre. It
was fifteen minutes away from eleven o’clock, and he had talked Cole into meeting him
there. The young man was one of the rangers and guides for the centre, and they had met
when Quinn had gone to the centre during a regular tour. He had been curious about what
they might be saying about the Hohokam origins. Although there was an alliance with the
tribes and the many parks in Arizona, Quinn had never been included in any of that. Again,
he just went ahead and took things into his own hands, making the choice to be left to his
own devices.
He pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket across from the closed visitor park,
taking his truck down to just the parking lights, and looked around to see if any cops, or
anyone connected to the ruins, were about. Cole had told him the centre would be a good
spot, but Quinn wasn’t so sure. These tools of the government kept a close eye on what they
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
26
considered their domain, and even if Quinn were a direct descendant of the mighty
Hohokam, it wouldn’t matter—he would be considered a trespasser. But he was willing to
take the chance to try to talk Cole into leaving town for a while.
After parking as near as possible to the centre entrance, he darted across the street,
jogged down the road, then skirted around the back of the visitor centre—where Cole had
said he would meet him. He was good at walking carefully, not making a sound. He needed
to be sure that there was no one else around, and he also couldn’t shake the feeling that it
was dangerous for Cole to be out here alone. What if the killer was keeping an eye on him,
and saw this as a perfect opportunity? What if he had found his lover, and it was already too
late?
He was hopeful the cops wouldn’t be around either, since Cole had assured him when
they spoke earlier that he would make it appear he had gone to bed by leading the team that
was tailing him back to his place. The plan was for him to sit up watching TV for a while,
then shut out all the lights. After waiting a bit, he would sneak out the back way and drive to
the ruins, making sure that he wasn’t being followed. Quinn again wondered if maybe he’d
made the wrong move bringing Cole out here. Either the killer or the cops might follow
him—he didn’t have a lot of faith in the man’s stealth abilities. But it was too late now. He’d
just have to wait until he found him.
“Pssst, Quinn, I’m over here,” someone whispered.
He turned and saw Cole shrouded in the shadows hiding behind one of the information
signs. There were dim lights about the place, making sure the centre wasn’t completely
covered in the dark, and it cast enough ambient light that Quinn could make out that it really
was him. He had told him there was a security guard and that they had to meet at this exact
time when he was in a different section. Had Cole been behind the sign the whole time?
Maybe he was stealthier than Quinn realised.
He put an index finger to his lips, walked about on the edges of his feet, and surveyed
their immediate area. He looked around the corner of the building on either side, verifying
no one else had pulled in. Finally, he went up to his lover, and embraced him silently. Cole
stiffened in his hold.
Odd.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
27
Cole was typically overly affectionate, constantly touching and trying to hold his hand.
He had been cloying at times, probably sensing that Quinn wasn’t committed to their union
the way Cole claimed that he was. It was as if their roles were suddenly reversed.
“Is it safe here?” whispered Quinn. “Are you sure there isn’t a chance of anyone seeing
us?”
He moved back from his hold on the man, but still had his hands on Cole’s shoulders.
He could feel a slight tremble from him.
“Yeah, I―I’m sure.”
“What is it, Cole? Why are you acting like this?”
“What do you mean? I’m not acting like anything. Come on, let’s go to the ruins, the
guard won’t be back to that section for over an hour.”
Cole pulled abruptly away from him, and picked up his pace, heading over to where
the Hohokam had lived in a peaceful community hundreds of years ago. Quinn followed
him wordlessly, not missing the hurry in Cole’s steps, as well as the lack of secrecy in his
pace. He might as well announce to the world that they were there with all of his crunching
and grinding on the dirt. They reached the edge of the ruins, and went behind one of the
rectangular structures made from calcium deposit. This had been the main formation
where—it was surmised—the community had gathered. It was also where certain star
constellations could be seen when peering through the cuts in the middle of the stone, and
gazing towards the sky. It had taken a long time for researchers to discover this—at first
puzzling over the openings in the caliche walls.
Quinn placed a hand reverently on the side of the structure. He began to enter and Cole
yelled out, “Wait!”
Quinn froze and frowned at the man. Barely above a whisper he said, “Keep your voice
down. The guard could still be within earshot.”
Cole cleared his throat. “I…just don’t want to go in there.”
“Cole, I needed to see you like this because of the murders. I want you to reconsider
what we talked about before. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here right
now…”
Cole’s eyes widened as if he were seeing something that Quinn couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry—please forgive me.” Cole dropped his head and began to weep softly.
“What the…?”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
28
“Gotcha!”
Someone’s strong hand seized his shoulder, and Quinn whirled around, ready to take
his assailant down, assuming he must be the killer. Instead, he came face to face with several
officers approaching from all around the ruins, guns drawn. He looked down into the face of
the man who still gripped Quinn’s shoulder. This officer was bronze-skinned with a mop of
close-cropped, curly dark hair. He wasn’t in a uniform, but instead had tight black jeans on,
and a snugly fitting T-shirt that wrapped nicely around the young man’s lean and lightly
muscled torso. His eyes were what set off the rest of his face—large and saucer-like, a deep
brown Quinn could easily drown in. A smile began to curl at the corner of his sumptuous
mouth, producing an adorable dimple, and Quinn felt his cock twitching at the sight of it.
What the hell is the matter with me?
Quinn got a hold of himself. “What’s this all about? Get your hand off of me!”
He went to push what he knew was a cop’s hand off him, even if it did belong to the
sweetest and most delectable guy he’d encountered in a long time.
I feel his spirit…
No, it couldn’t be. He had no idea what was happening to him or why there were so
many strongly conflicting emotions assaulting him at once, but he was not going to go down
some weird road fantasising about a cop.
“My dear Quinn,” said the man, who insisted on keeping a hand on his shoulder, “I do
believe you’re trespassing in the ruins tonight. Isn’t that correct, Mr Stillman?”
The cop looked towards Cole who was now blubbering into his hands. He merely
nodded, not able to look Quinn in the eye.
This is the man who said he loved me more than anything. The man who said he would die for
me.
Just like all of the others, Cole had only been caught in a sexual thrall, nothing more. He
allowed the familiar numbness to wash over him, soothing his body with emptiness. It was
the void that protected him from becoming too emotionally attached to anyone, and
prevented him from believing that someone really cared.
“So as long as we need to take you downtown on this trespassing charge, I thought we
could chat about a few other things while we’re there. Sound good?”
Quinn stayed as cold as stone inside. His gorgeous cop was no different than Cole, or
any of the others that had piqued his interest at one point.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
29
Spirit my ass. I’ve been betrayed by someone I was trying to help. I’m not going to let myself
even think of another man in any other way than a body to spend my lust on—it’s obvious no one can
be trusted.
Quinn stared straight ahead and betrayed no emotion as he was cuffed, and the sultry
officer led him by the elbow to a patrol car. His life had turned upside down ever since these
killings had begun, and men who didn’t deserve to die horribly had been struck down,
seemingly because they had once been with him sexually. Was Cole behind all of it then?
Maybe the sexy, nerdy historian that worked at the centre was really some crazed
psychopath who had a bizarre agenda.
The only thing that he knew for sure was that he wasn’t telling these cops a thing. Not a
goddamned thing.
* * * *
On his way back to the station to question the once elusive Quinn, Jake mulled over
how his evening had begun so differently—and how it had taken such a surprising turn. It
had been after ten o’clock when Jake had made it to the motel to meet Reggie at the
designated room. The Triple Seven was the worst of the worst in terms of local
accommodation, and he had found his thoughts turning to the motel—and death scene—
from earlier. It had been tempting for him to start turning over details of the crime scene in
his head, but that would have negated having a casual fuck to clear his mind, so he had
focused on what he’d wanted to do with Reggie instead. Jake liked to bottom, and Reggie
was definitely a top, so there had been no issue there. He had also looked forward to having
the man suck his cock the way he’d done previously. Man, that guy could swallow a dick like
no one he had ever met. He was able to get it past his gag reflex, then he would swallow on it
over and over, the suction-like feeling the most intense Jake had experienced. Definitely the
guy was a sex freak, and Jake had needed something like that right then. He’d decided he
could go back to his quest for true love later.
“Well hello there, officer,” Reggie had said, as Jake had pushed open the door that had
been ajar. He had seen Reggie go in just as he’d pulled up. “Did you bring your handcuffs?”
“Now, Reggie,” Jake had responded, keeping the playful tone,” You know I don’t go for
that kind of stuff.”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
30
“Too bad. I could cuff you to the bed and do all kinds of dirty things to you, and you
wouldn’t be able to stop me. I bet you’d like that, officer, wouldn’t ya’?”
He’d flinched. The last thing he’d been in the mood for was being restrained. Especially
after seeing John’s tied up body earlier.
But Jake had noticed with Reggie that he seemed to be a little into fetishes, and he did
like to talk a lot. He’d heard another guy, a schoolteacher, say that Reggie liked to pretend
he’d been a bad boy, and that he had to suck the guy’s cock to get out of detention. Jake’d
sensed there was a little of that going on between the two of them, since he never called him
by his name, only ‘officer’. He’d had to remind the man that certain things were off-limits.
“Sorry, Reggie, but I don’t like being restrained—I prefer being in control.”
“Yet you have no problem taking it up the ass, officer. If I remember correctly, we were
perfectly matched in that area.”
“Uh, how about more action, and less talk?”
“Oooh, yeah, officer. That’s right, I’m being bad. I don’t want you to have to take me
downtown and put me in a pen with the other guys. Who knows what all those bad men
might do to me? I bet you’d like to watch, right?”
Jake knew Reggie just needed to get a little fantasy going.
“Yeah, sure Reggie, I like to watch.” Jake had pulled his tight black T-shirt over his
head, and thrown it on a tattered orange chair. He’d continued undressing, kicking his
clothes aside, and had walked over to the other side of the bed where Reggie had eyed him
hungrily. “I want to watch you suck every single one of those men’s dicks in the holding pen.
There are five of them, and I’m going to sit back and stroke my cock like this while I watch
you.”
Completely naked, Jake had leant back on the bed, placed one arm behind his head.
With his other hand he had grasped his thick, six-inch shaft that was nestled in a neatly
trimmed, small patch of black curls. His balls were always shaved bare, a regular part of his
grooming routine. Since he’d showered before he’d gone to Joe’s, they were smooth and
made soft by scented oil he had applied. Slowly, he’d pulled up and down on his cock,
teasing the full helmet, lingering over the slit that had been glistening with pre-cum. Reggie
had kept his eyes completely glued on Jake’s form lying before him.
“Now what?” Reggie had said, his voice coming out in ragged breaths, one hand going
to the front of his jeans.
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31
“No—you can’t touch yourself.”
Reggie had moaned and pulled his hand away.
“You’re saving your cock for my ass, understand? You’re my prisoner, so you do what I
say.”
“Okay, officer, tell me what to do next.”
“Just keep licking and tonguing all of those men’s dicks—I don’t care what you think
about any of them, you let them fuck your mouth as hard as they want, in and out, hitting
the back of your throat until you choke on them, and then you swallow every drop when
they come, got it?”
His moans had got louder and more insistent. “Oh, yeah, I got it. Please…”
Jake’s erection had pointed towards his chin, he had used his fist to pump harder, and
his hips to meet with his hand as if he were fucking another man.
“Please what? Have you swallowed all that cum yet? Are you ready for my ass?”
Still panting, Reggie had replied, “Yes, officer, I’ve done everything you commanded
me to do. Let me have your nice little asshole. Please, I’m begging you.”
Jake had turned on his side, away from Reggie, let go of his dick, and had bent his
uppermost leg so that his knee was almost to his chest, making his rear available for Reggie
to do what he’d wanted to it. He’d waited for the initial intrusion into his tight hole, the
anticipation just before getting breached sending little shivers up his spine. With his cock
pulsing, he hadn’t dared to touch himself any more, or he would have come before he had
had a chance to stick it down Reggie’s throat, and that would have been a real shame.
He’d felt a greased up finger push against his opening, and he’d closed his eyes, resting
his head on the pillow. The last time he’d got together with this guy, they’d had an all-night
marathon session, and Reggie had really worked his hole with his fingers and dick and he
had to admit—blushing a little at the thought—a large dildo. It had been a dirty, sex-
saturated night, and one of the best he’d ever had in terms of wildness. Jake had never
allowed anyone to stick any objects into him before, but somehow, the lust-filled evening had
lent itself to never tried debaucheries.
Jake had spotted the sex toy in a bag Reggie had had with him, and had made a joke
about the size. Then Reggie had teased that Jake ‘couldn’t take it’, which had finally led to
Reggie pleading with Jake to let him use it on him. Finally, in a frenzy of desire, he’d
consented. The man had been a little rough, but Jake had liked it. He’d been fucked once
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
32
already that night before Reggie had used the dildo on Jake, penetrating him as deep as he
could, and describing to him how beautiful his asshole looked stretched around the large
circumference of the toy, until Jake got another boner. After one more exuberant ass-fucking
from Reggie when he’d finished with the dildo, Jake had needed to take a rest from any
nocturnal activities for a while. But it had been worth it.
After he’d mused on that previous encounter, he’d felt Reggie slip his lubed finger into
his butt up to the man’s knuckle. He’d slid it around inside him, swirling and stretching
Jake’s rectum. Then he had added another finger, and pumped them in and out. Jake had just
relaxed and taken it, the defilement of his asshole getting him so hot and ready for Reggie’s
shaft.
“Come on, fuck me, I’m ready for you.”
Reggie removed his fingers from Jake’s backside, and he had felt the bed shift as Reggie
moved closer. There was the tearing sound of the condom package, and Jake had felt the tip
of his Reggie’s dick moving against his moistened hole. He’d waited anxiously for him to
plunge it in. Reggie had thrust into him roughly, and had pushed himself into Jake all the
way to the hilt. Jake had cried out at the invasion then had pushed against the man, letting
him know to keep going.
“Yeah, that’s it. Take my ass, make it yours.”
Reggie had grabbed Jake’s hair with one hand, grasped his hip with the other, then
pounded into him furiously. It had been raw and dirty sex, the kind Jake needed every once
in a while to erase every other thing going on from his mind. Someday, he wanted a lover
that could do this with him, but who could also hold him tenderly and make love to him
with real emotion. His thoughts had turned to the fact that he was once again settling for
less.
So instead he had tried to will himself not to think about anything too sappy, and to just
focus on the assault of his ass. His boner had throbbed—the tip overly-sensitive as it had got
pushed into the bed with the force of Reggie’s thrusting. His balls were disappearing into his
pelvis, and he knew he needed to come soon.
“Come on,” Jake had coaxed, “shoot that cum into me, let me feel your dick pulse inside
my ass.”
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That had done the trick, and with a loud groan, Reggie had unloaded his spunk into the
condom. The man had collapsed, and breathed heavily in Jake’s ear. They’d lain still for a
moment until Reggie’s dick had gradually stopped spasming inside him.
“Whew! Officer, I do love your tight, fine ass. But I need to swallow that thick cock of
yours right now. Come on, get up so I can lie down, and you face fuck me, all right?”
Jake had remembered Reggie had a thing for that, and had been more than happy to
oblige. Jake had mused how it depended on what position he was in as to how it affected the
sensations when he got his dick sucked. If a guy went down on him whilst he lay on the bed,
it felt different than if he was standing with someone kneeling before him. Also, whether he
was the one who did the thrusting, or his partner sucked him in and controlled his penis
with their fist made a difference in how it felt. Fucking a guy’s mouth had been something
he’d learnt from Reggie, and he absolutely loved it. The feeling of dominance with another
man being held down by his cock was a super turn-on. Even though he usually bottomed, it
was different somehow.
Jake had moved aside so Reggie had been able to position himself, and once the Reggie
had been lying back, not even a pillow for his head, Jake had straddled him above his
shoulders, and pushed his hard shaft right past his lips, and down his throat. Reggie’s mouth
had convulsed around his erection, his body jerking from the gagging, and it had been
heaven. He’d used his strong hands to grasp Jake’s butt cheeks forcefully, and had urged him
even deeper. He’d pummelled Reggie’s willing mouth, groaning as the man had
manipulated his masterful tongue to tease and taunt the mushroomed head of his penis. At
that rate, especially after the severe attentions paid to his ass, he’d known he wouldn‘t be
able to hold back for very long. Still, he’d tried to not give in right away, the feeling of his
dick being eaten so aggressively something he had yearned to continue for as long as
possible.
The tingling he always felt just before he was going to shoot his load had travelled from
the base of his spine, and shot to the end of his dick His release had been violent, and he’d
had to grab the headboard to keep from toppling over. Blood had rushed to his head, and
he’d been slightly dizzy from the effort as he’d shot load after load down Reggie’s choking
throat. He had suddenly become concerned for the man, and had pulled out, but Reggie had
held him in place by his ass cheeks as he’d gasped and coughed around his cock.
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34
Both of them had finally been spent, and Jake had climbed off Reggie, and fallen on his
back. He’d had no illusions about cuddling with his sex partner—the man was known for his
‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’ style. He had never heard of Reggie being with just one man, or
having any type of long-term relationship. He’d suddenly felt bad for the guy, then had
remembered that he was likely headed down the same road if he didn’t get his act together.
That thought had killed his post-come buzz, and as they’d both lain there in silence, his
thoughts had touched on their latest murder victim, John. He had found a way to make
money to fuel his drug habit by hooking up with guys who just wanted a quick sex fix. No
emotions, no attachment, no caring. Jake had felt he was going down a rabbit hole with that
thinking, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Neither he nor Quinn should just be getting off
like this. They were just numbing themselves by engaging in this mindless sex.
Why the sudden concern for Quinn’s soul? I don’t even know the guy, he’d thought.
Jake had turned his head towards Reggie who had been lying next to him but not close
enough to be touching. He’d had one arm farthest from Jake at his side, and the other one
draped over his eyes, almost as if he had been trying to shut out the world.
“Hey. Reggie.”
Reggie had peeked out from under his arm. “Jeez. Give a guy a chance to recharge
before the next round.”
Jake had leaned on his elbow to face him. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just
wondering…I mean, we’ve hooked up a few times before and I…”
“Oh Christ. You’re not gonna get all mushy on me are you? I think I’ve made it pretty
clear that I’m not the boyfriend type.”
“No, you’ve got me wrong. I was just going to ask you if you ever get bummed out just
screwing whoever catches your eye, not ever getting a chance to get close to someone, to
have a partner.”
Reggie had given him a frown, and sat up, facing away from Jake on the bed. He’d bent
over and had begun to gather his clothing.
“Look, officer, you’re really cute and all, but getting bummed out because I get laid a lot
doesn’t make any sense to me. I don’t like all this serious stuff. If you want to get raunchy
with me, that’s cool. But I ain’t up for this hearts and flowers shit, got it?”
Jake had sat up and reached for his pants. There hadn’t been much point in trying to
have a deep conversation with the guy. It wasn’t any different than trying to help a friend
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
35
caught up in alcoholism or any other destructive behaviour. When they were ready to hear it,
they would. Otherwise, it wouldn’t get through.
While Jake had been trying to think of a graceful way to exit, his cell phone had gone
off. He’d dug into his jeans pocket, grabbed his phone and had seen that it was Maggie. His
stomach had sunk a little. She usually only called that late if something critical was going on.
He’d been afraid it might be another murder.
“We just got a call from Cole, one of Quinn’s lovers. He agreed to meet him out at the
Hohokam ruins at the Casa Grande National Monument, and he’s scared that Quinn has
lured him there to kill him. This is our chance, Jake—we can get him on a trespassing charge,
the guy is willing to roll over on his sweetie.”
There had been a pull in Jake’s chest. It didn’t necessarily mean that Quinn was guilty.
It just meant that they had a chance to bring him in for questioning. He hadn’t been able to
figure out what his problem was, but he’d suddenly been terrified to find out that the
devastatingly sexy Quinn was possibly responsible for all of the killings.
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36
Chapter Four
Quinn sat in some type of interrogation room, its stereotypical bare, grey walls
surrounding him in a little eight by eight box shape. He’d already been read his rights, and
had told the police to go fuck themselves. He leant back in the hard metal chair that was on
the other side of a small fake wood veneer topped table that was about three foot long, and
two foot deep. It also had metal legs and was a little off-balance when he put one of his large
hands on it, testing its strength. He imagined the cheap, crappy furniture in the room had
taken a few beatings here and there over the years.
Shit. I can’t believe that goofy, besotted Cole pulled one over on me.
He figured that’s what he got for being too full of himself, and not giving the man
enough credit. Sure, he had enjoyed the talks he’d had with him about native culture, and
what the various archaeologists uncovered. Quinn had always been one of the first to know
if there was a new discovery, many times being able to see or touch it before anything else
was done with it. He had a particular interest in the ancient pottery, and had several
favourite ‘phases’ as they were called—depending on the era and location the pottery was
produced or found. The phase he loved the most was the Sacaton, which included more
flamboyant designs and heavier jars. The Hohokam potteries were not abundantly
colourful—many of the varying designs were painted with black or brown on red clay—but
there were many styles and shapes produced throughout the eras.
Yet another thought had occurred to him about Cole—he had the impression that the
man had hoped to use his relationship with him to learn some of Quinn’s native traditions
and legends that were never shared with anyone outside the tribe. Whilst Cole gave off the
vibe of being a kind and concerned historian, there had been something that hadn’t allowed
Quinn to connect with him. Maybe Quinn’s spirit was telling him to be wary of a devious
person all along. It certainly seemed that way now.
He was still trying to discern the true motive in what Cole had done. Had he truly been
afraid for his life—thinking Quinn had asked to meet him on the sly and shake the police in
order to murder him? If he took his own selfish agenda out of the equation, he could see how
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
37
it might look from Cole’s point of view. Yet the man had always claimed undying love for
him, begging Quinn to at least consider giving him a chance at a committed relationship.
It always ended up happening that way. He would find what he thought would be a
good fuck buddy, then they would ruin it by wanting commitment. There was something
else nagging at him as well. What if Cole had staged this whole thing, and had murdered the
other men, considering them rivals for his affection? Maybe it was a case of ‘if I can’t have
you, no one will’. But it seemed so remarkable that the squeamish Cole could ever be capable
of stabbing another human being. The man squealed like a little girl when he saw a spider.
Yet, he never would have thought it possible that the guy would turn on him either, and he
had betrayed him easily. From what Quinn understood, the usually slimy police hadn’t
approached Cole to talk him into rolling over on his supposed true love. He had contacted
them anxiously wanting to give him up.
It’s possible. I just need to try and get what information I can out of whichever idiot they send in
to question me.
His mind instantly latched on to the image of the brown-skinned cop who had grasped
his shoulder and made his cock spring to life even as he was being taken down. He was sure
the man was of Hispanic origin, but it was possible he had some Native in him too.
Why the hell do I care? It’s not as if anything could ever happen between us.
Quinn chuckled at the thought. It was bad enough he’d got involved with a historian
who represented ruins that his tribe believed they should have sovereignty over and not be
shared with the public. Not only that, but this same man had also just helped get him
arrested. Then there was the fact that he had also been seeing a drug-addicted prostitute.
Suddenly he didn’t feel like laughing anymore. If he could get out of this mess, and the real
killer was caught before they hanged him for it, he would need to rethink his sexual choices.
Maybe Richard was right. Maybe being alone was his whole problem. He shook his head, not
in the mood to deal with any of this emotional crap at that exact moment, not with his neck
on the line.
The door swung open and sure enough, it was the luscious cop. He looked at the
ceiling.
I don’t need this right now.
Composing his expression to a blank slate, he lowered his head, and looked the man
dead-on in the eyes. He’d found he’d been able to unnerve anyone with that stare. However,
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
38
it didn’t seem to be working so well all of a sudden. The cop looked right back at him, clearly
trying to hold that little curling smile at bay, the sexy dimple on his cheek threatening to
appear at any moment.
Well fuck me.
Sensing a challenge, Quinn readied himself for the first parry. He would wait the guy
out, not appear to be interested in anything he had to say, not ask direct questions, but allow
him to spill his secrets. Quinn’s gaze narrowed, and the man gave him one quick peek at the
dimple, then peered down at his notes before he sat—right across from him in the tiny room.
If Quinn stretched his long legs out, surely he would be able to hook his ankle around the
cop’s foot. The thought of such an intimate touch with the officer caused Quinn to shiver a
little, as if someone had just walked over his grave.
“Chilly?”
The cop glanced up from the papers he was so fascinated with, using just his eyes.
He didn’t answer. He needed to stick to his strategy.
Finally, he set the papers down and leant back in his metal chair, the epitome of
relaxation.
Ooh, he’s good. I’ll just have to be better.
Quinn never let his stare waver. But neither did the cop.
“Well, Quinn Verdugo, I’m Detective Jake Gutierrez. It just so happens that my partner
and I were assigned to The Bondage Butcher case.”
Detective? They haul them in young around here.
“Which is why I’m so interested in speaking with you today. It seems your boyfriend
Cole thinks you might have something to do with these murders. He was so convinced, in
fact, that he called us to come and save him since he thought you were luring him into the
desert to tie and slice him up. I don’t know if you normally tie him up—he didn’t say—but
maybe he just wasn’t into the slicing part. What do you think?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
What the fuck am I doing— Shut up!
“Oh, really? Because he insists that you two are quite the item. I think he even hinted
that he might be moving in with you on the rez pretty soon, maybe have a little commitment
ceremony…”
Bullshit.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
39
This guy was provoking him. He needed to keep it together.
Gritting his teeth, Quinn broke the stare. He had to. He wanted to tell this cop—or
detective—that Cole meant nothing to him, that he was just a lay and nothing more. He was
having an inner battle to keep from spilling his guts to this Jake guy, for some bizarre reason
not wanting him to think he had ties to anyone.
Ridiculous. He’s probably married with eight kids for all I know.
Quinn was seriously pissing himself off, and needed to get back in control of things. But
he was tired all of a sudden. It was exhausting trying to keep his feelings clamped down
deep inside him all the time. All of those emotions were like a long-dormant volcano
building up to an inevitable explosion. There were the endless dalliances with young men
whom he forbade himself to feel any connection with—although he knew he purposely
picked ones where there wasn’t any danger of that. There was all the guilt and rage over the
killings of his lovers. And finally, there were the recent stirrings of something whenever he
thought about or looked at this so-called detective. He wanted to pick up one of the hinky
chairs, and bash it until it no longer resembled any piece of furniture. Instead, he looked back
at the man.
“Just tell me what you want from me so I can get the hell out of here.”
He said it with such vitriol, and yet, he hoped that the detective Jake didn’t think it was
directed at him. Quinn was sensing he might be in trouble with this guy, the kind that he
wasn’t used to.
“Okay, that’s fair.”
Jake nodded as if they were negotiating over the price of a used car. Like they were
being gentlemen about things and not discussing whether or not Quinn had recently
murdered a man he’d been intimate with at a seedy motel.
“I just want to know what the significance was when you impaled John’s head through
his mouth to the bed at that motel. It must have been something to see the expression of a
man you’d once made love to just before the butcher knife severed his spinal cord.”
Suddenly, Quinn couldn’t catch his breath. He had no idea what his expression was
anymore, and he didn’t care. All of his shields crashed down at the detective’s statement
about John. He saw John in his mind’s eye, knowing what terror, the kind, but misguided
man must have felt at that moment. He thought he might actually be sick.
“Impaled his head? That’s what…fuck no John, no…”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
40
Quinn looked down, shoulders slumped. Jake had beaten him, the cops had won. He
wondered if he had nothing left with which to protect himself against their soulless ways. If
they believed he had done these awful things, then his spirit was not pure. He had led these
poor men to their deaths somehow. Something he had done to someone along the way had
created these horrifying events, and he would never forgive himself. He had nothing left to
fight for.
Except to get revenge on the monster that did this.
Quinn lifted his head with new determination, and stared directly into Jake’s eyes, his
emotions once again caged.
Jake had been silent this entire time, he must have been considering Quinn’s reaction.
There was a pause where neither of them spoke, and Quinn had the impression that Jake was
mulling something over in his mind. Then the detective brought his voice down low, and
leaned towards him. If there were other officers watching the interrogation, and it was being
taped, then it was likely that what the man was about to say wouldn’t be picked up.
“You want to get him, don’t you?” Jake said in a whisper.
Quinn inhaled sharply. Was this a trick, or did the detective really believe he was
innocent?
He kept his voice just as low. “What are you getting at?”
“Let me help you. Give me the names of every man you’ve been with, and let me figure
out who really did this.”
Quinn frowned. It seemed very risky to talk to any cops, let alone this tempting
detective, but he was wavering on his resolve. Something told him that this man was true.
He still imagined he could feel his spirit—that it was pure and different from any other he
had been with. He didn’t even know if the man was gay—he’d definitely made that mistake
before—but there was something there, and he needed to find out what. Plus, getting info
from the cops would be a lot easier if he cooperated.
That made his stomach turn a little. He had been brought up to keep what went on in
the tribe to himself, especially when it came to the police. Tribal police were one thing, and
even they weren’t the most popular members. But this was different. This was a man whose
job was sanctioned by the white man’s law and rules, and it went against everything Quinn
had upheld in his life. He was conflicted. His people hadn’t supported him in many ways,
but he was still native, and did not want to answer to an outside authority.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
41
But maybe each man should be judged by his own deeds, rather than his background or
his blood ties?
God, he was just so tired.
Jake whispered again, “Well?”
Loud enough so it could be heard by whoever might be eavesdropping he said, “I’ll talk
to you. But only to you and no one else, understand?”
This man, this Detective Jake, smiled and that dimple appeared on his sweet face.
Oh yes. I’m definitely in trouble.
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42
Chapter Five
After letting Quinn go with just a trespassing ticket, Jake drove home with another
raging boner as his companion for the ride. The lieutenant had been mildly pleased with the
development—hoping Jake would be able to get info from Quinn, but still concerned that
they had let a potential murderer go. They couldn’t really hold him on anything—no
prosecutor would touch such a circumstantial case. Then the lieutenant had decided that
having Jake get chummy with Quinn might help—so he had okayed it. Maggie, however,
was a different story. At the thought of her fit after Quinn left, his woody softened up.
“How can you just leave me out of this? I thought we were partners on everything? You
know, when this is over I’m not sure we should continue to work together.”
It cut him in his heart. He loved Maggie like a sister, and he felt a little guilty,
wondering if his attraction to the hunky man had clouded his investigator’s judgement. The
whole idea of baiting Quinn, getting his reaction, then deciding to try to work with him to
catch the killer had happened in the moment. When he’d seen Quinn’s reaction, he’d
witnessed something completely honest and real. There was no way Quinn had done those
awful things unless he was somehow schizophrenic. And Jake wasn’t ready to go down that
path at all, not when he was still feeling such conflicting emotions about the man.
As he ran the whole interrogation episode through his head again, he remembered one
point where his foot had slid up next to Quinn’s, right when he’d leaned in to whisper to
him. He also remembered how he had got so close that he could inhale the man’s scent,
musky and alluring—impossible to resist. His boner was back.
Unbelievable. That session with Reggie did nothing to calm my dick down.
The last thing he wanted to admit to himself was that being in such close proximity to
the unbelievably sexy Quinn was turning him into a horn dog. Yet there was one thing that
he was willing to admit with great relief. He was certain—even if Maggie wasn’t—that
Quinn had nothing to do with the murders. His expression when Jake had so callously
released details of the last murder spoke volumes. The police had purposely kept certain
details of the killings out of the press as a way of verifying if someone was either pretending
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
43
to be the killer, or knew something only the actual murderer would know, as a way to vet
suspects.
Quinn hadn’t had any idea how John had been done, the shock on his face had told Jake
that. He was innocent, and his being uncooperative was hardly an unusual scenario amongst
the native population. He was just a man who was in the awful position of having his former
lovers murdered gruesomely, and he could do nothing about it. Jake was using the man’s
understandable rage to encourage him to work with them.
I won’t mind getting to be around him again either.
Jake knew he was treading dangerous waters with that line of thought. Maggie would
seriously have his head if she knew what was going on inside it. Maybe she did, and that was
part of why she was so angry at him. Jake figured he’d find out soon enough as he had an
appointment to meet Quinn the next day. If he didn’t show up, then there would be a reason
to bring him in again, and start all over. If he did show up, then Jake would just discuss what
was pertinent to the case, and that was it. There was an odd burning need inside him to see
that Quinn was cleared. He tried to tell himself that he just wanted to wrap up his first major
case successfully. But deep down, he knew that some of it had to do with hoping that once
the man was cleared, there might be a way that a native would consider spending time with
a police officer.
I’m going to get my heart broken, I just know it.
Forcing himself to let go of that depressing thought, Jake pulled into the apartment
building where he lived a little south of town, close to yet another Phoenix suburb, Gilbert.
After climbing the stairs, he unlocked the door to his little studio unit. He went inside,
turned on the lights and prepared to get a few hours of sleep, alone.
* * * *
Unbelievable. Un-fucking believable.
First he was lured into a cop trap by one of the few guys he thought might have his
back, then the cop that had dragged him to the station to interrogate him, had suddenly
seemed to be on his side. And hot. Really, really hot. Even worse, the same cop—or detective
as he’d found out—felt like someone he would want to get to know for real. Not just fuck—
although he certainly wanted to do that—but to maybe even let him into his heart. He
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
44
couldn’t believe he was even considering something so insane. Especially since he’d sworn to
himself he would never trust another guy again. He was pretty sure Detective Gutierrez was
into guys, he could usually tell. But he needed to find out for sure.
No, I don’t. Bad idea.
It could never work. He still wasn’t even sure he was ready to open up his heart yet to
anyone, let alone an officer of the law who may or may not be gay.
Quinn chuckled to himself with no humour as he opened the door to his place. Even
though he’d done so many things to make it his own, it never felt completely like home. It
was more like the place where he kept his things and created his art, so it was special for that.
But he’d yet to unconditionally connect with the land, even though his people had dwelt
there for thousands of years.
Well, my father’s people have.
He wished he’d known of his mother’s heritage a lot sooner. It wasn’t until after that
horrible day when he’d made a pass at Joe Evans that his grandfather had explained that it
might not just be his sexuality that created distance in some of the people. Quinn had been so
hung up on the shame he’d allowed them to make him feel for his preferences, that it was too
late when he’d finally realised there was more to his isolation than just being homosexual. If
only he’d asked his grandfather more details about his mother’s life. Even if he hadn’t known
that much, Quinn would have wanted anything he could have shared. Maybe this land
wasn’t meant to be his, maybe he needed to search for where he did belong. Or maybe he felt
unconnected merely because he had no one to share it with.
He had finally come to the conclusion that a lot of the separateness he felt was his own
doing. There had been glimmers over the years, primarily due to Richard’s influence, that
there were many who would have included him. But he had pushed everyone away,
preferring his own company to the risk of being cast aside ever again.
Tossing his satchel down by the settee, he then went to the window by the kitchen to let
some cool night air blow into the stuffy room. He lay down on his mattress, just on top of the
blankets, and stared out at the clear night. The moon was high and almost full, so it made the
room bright, even at almost three-thirty in the morning. He had agreed to meet Jake the next
day at noon at the Lo-Fi Coffee House. The detective must have known something about his
connection to that place, but was playing it cool. Quinn had done the same. Even so, there
was a slight flutter in his chest at the thought of seeing Jake again in a few hours.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
45
I shouldn’t go there.
Exhausted from the insanity of the day, he drifted off picturing the detective’s very
kissable lips, his soulful brown eyes, his hands reaching for him, caressing his skin…
Quinn bolted upright, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as though it were trying to
jump out of his throat. He looked around the room, then at his watch. It was a little after four
a.m., and he could swear someone or something had actually been touching his arm. The
curtain fluttered where he’d left the window open. Then he noticed it—his front door was
wide open. He had no screen, so there was nothing between him and the outside. He
grabbed the knife that he kept under his mattress, and jumped up in one move. Something
told him that this was related to the murders—someone was fucking with him.
He stayed in a defensive crouching position as he carefully inched towards the
bathroom just to the left of his bed. It was the only other room in the open structure. With
one arm outstretched, he slowly pushed the bathroom door wide, then flicked the switch,
jumping inside with his knife drawn as he did. Nothing, it was clear. Switching the light back
off, he crept in the darkness, on the sides of his feet, towards the front door. The moon was
still bright, even as it moved towards the horizon, preparing to leave the next several hours
for the sun to take control. He stood in the doorway of the place where he had lived for most
of his life, and surveyed the surrounding land. There were few places for someone to hide,
but he still couldn’t see anything. Maybe it was his imagination, but by the same token, he
clearly remembered shutting his front door, and there was little more than a slight breeze
outside.
Closing the door, then actually using the lock this time, Quinn decided to head back to
his mattress to try to get a bit of sleep before the dawning light demanded his attention. The
last thing he needed was to not have his wits about him when he faced the detective later
that day. He had to just deal with the fact that the man was capable of bringing something
out in him that he wasn’t used to. Jake was someone that could stand his ground with him,
and that was unusual indeed. This time when Quinn drifted off, he fell into a solid sleep that
lasted five hours, and contained no dreams.
* * * *
Jake felt a bit of excitement growing as he got ready to meet up with Quinn.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
46
God, I’m being silly. There’s no chance with this guy, it’s out of bounds while the case is open,
and yet I’m putting on a nice shirt, and making sure my hair is just right. I need help.
The only thing Jake decided he had going for him in relation to Quinn, was that at least
he could use his well-honed cop interview technique to keep himself from getting too
flustered. It was interesting how over the years as an officer, he had developed a stronger,
more confident personality. In some ways, he felt that was what had appealed to him about
this line of work initially. Yeah, he wanted to be a public servant, but he also knew that his
natural shyness needed to be challenged. This job had done that and more for him.
It had matured him beyond his years, and allowed him to have a stronger appreciation
for the trials that every walk of life faced. It had also made him much more appreciative of
family and friendships. There were many people in the world that didn’t have anyone who
really cared about them, and he was damn lucky for those he had in his life. From Maggie to
his nana—he was truly loved.
Unless Maggie turns her back on me after this.
Something inside him knew that wouldn’t happen. There was too much history
between them. He had been there when her dad had passed, and when every guy who didn’t
know a great thing when they saw it had disappointed her. They were familia, and nothing
could ever change that.
That was also a big part of why he was really ready to hook up with someone for real—
it was time for him to start his own home life. He even imagined finding a partner who
would want to have a family someday. Coming from a large home with lots of kids, it
seemed too lonely to never consider having that for himself, even if he wouldn’t be
biologically bringing a child into the world. Actually, after seeing so many kids get hauled
into the foster care system through his work, he knew he would really prefer to give a loving
home to a deserving child out there anyway.
After checking his reflection one more time, he headed out of the door. In a little over
twenty minutes, he would be seated right near his dream guy.
He’s not your dream guy, idiot. Just focus.
Jake shook his head and decided that he would allow himself to think about Quinn that
way only when he needed to take care of himself with his hand. When they were discussing
the case, he was strictly a potential lead to be interviewed, and that was it. A part of him
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
47
buried deep inside knew that was going to be near impossible, but he shoved that down, and
continued to his destination.
Jake had arranged for them to meet at the coffee shop that was on the discarded card
he’d found outside the murder scene. He had purposely planned to not say anything about
the place, and was anxious to see if Quinn brought it up. While he really did believe in the
man’s innocence, as an investigator he needed to keep all possibilities open.
The heat was as scorching as ever, and he looked forward to the approach of winter.
Sometimes, the fall temps could outdo the summertime. He pulled in to the parking lot of the
Lo-Fi. He had noticed as he’d driven through the downtown that there were still a few of the
burnt out structures from the arson fires that summer. He was glad that that whole thing had
been wrapped up successfully. It was just sad that so many historical buildings had forever
been lost, and that the Fire Chief had been dragged through the mud. As he parked his truck,
his skin tingled when he spied Quinn walking into the establishment.
Well, that’s a good sign. At least he didn’t stand me up.
Quinn’s innocence points continued to add up all the time, much to Jake’s satisfaction.
The next hurdle would be getting some useful information from him. And the biggest hurdle
of them all—actually discovering who the killer was before anyone else got hurt. There was
also Maggie, and the lieutenant. He wouldn’t be able to just keep everything he learnt to
himself. But Jake needed to be careful. He was trying to win Quinn’s trust, and he had a
feeling that spilling everything to his partner or lieutenant back at the station would just piss
the guy off, and seal his lips. He had to tread carefully between keeping the station happy
and keeping his new lead happy. He was sure Quinn would understand that he would have
to give them something if these meetings were to continue. At least he hoped the man was
that reasonable.
Forcing himself not to check his own reflection yet again, Jake pushed out of his Ford
Ranger truck, then headed towards the front door. Once inside, he took a second to adjust his
vision after being out in the bright sun. He spotted Quinn at the far end of the coffeehouse,
back to the wall, facing the front.
Not surprising.
Quinn’s intense gaze locked on Jake, and he felt the man’s eyes boring into him. This
was not going to be easy—he needed to really keep his wits about him.
“Thank you for arriving promptly,” said Jake, keeping his voice professional and direct.
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
48
Quinn didn’t respond, so he took the chair opposite him, and laid a file down on the
table. He thought he detected the slightest shift in Quinn’s expression, and he interpreted this
to mean that the man was trying not to show too much interest in what information might be
concealed in the file.
“I had no reason to be late,” replied Quinn, still keeping the blank mask on and the
disinterested tone that he had used the night before at the station.
There is more to this man, I just know it. I can practically feel a seething fire underneath his
carefully contained surface. Well, I’ll deal with that later.
Jake continued in cop mode. “How long have you been performing your poetry here?”
Slowly, and with great deliberation, Quinn leaned closer towards him. “Let me say this,
detective, you’re good at what you do. So now that you’ve gotten that acknowledgement
from me, can we cut the crap? I’m here because you led me to believe that we would go after
the sick asshole that did this to my friends. You got something to ask me, say to me? Just say
it. I’m not into games.”
Jake considered this. He had started to get a little miffed, but as Quinn leant back after
he’d finished talking, Jake admitted to himself that this guy was too smart for his usual
technique. The man seemed to be more of a straight shooter than he’d originally thought.
That really appealed to him on another level as well.
Knock it off, homey. We’re after a murderer together, not a happily-ever-after.
“Okay. It’s a deal. I’ll be real with you, and you’ll be real with me.”
Jake cleared his throat. He had the sudden impression that they were talking about
something more personal.
“So,” he continued, “can you think of any reason why I would have found a business
card of the Lo-Fi with your name on it at the murder scene?”
Quinn frowned, and Jake had no idea how to interpret it.
“It just had my name on it? Can I see it?”
“No, it’s been booked into evidence. We tried to dust it for prints, but it’s been through
a couple wash cycles. I surmised that it got pulled out of someone’s pocket when they
reached in for something else—probably a wallet since it was near the office—and it fell on
the ground unnoticed.” Jake opened his file to make sure he had the exact wording. “It said
‘Quinn. Eight o’clock Tuesday’ on the back.”
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49
Quinn stood up, and Jake tensed, thinking the man was just going to walk out
completely.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked casually.
Jake sputtered a little. “I can get it myself, it wouldn’t be appropriate…”
“Oh for Chrissakes, detective. Don’t be such a puppet. I’m offering you a coffee—I
think even your own ridiculous police department can get over that.”
Jake felt himself bristle a little at the remark. “I’m not a puppet, and I can get my own
damn coffee, thank you.”
Jake stood up, and pushed the chair out of his way.
Why am I letting this guy get to me? I’m acting like a two-year-old.
Jake saw Quinn raise an eyebrow, and the man had the nerve to smirk at him as Jake
brushed past him and headed towards the counter.
Breathe. Get control of yourself. Don’t think about how your arm just grazed his, or that you
wanted to move in closer.
In his peripheral vision he could tell Quinn was sauntering towards him. When they
had been staking him out the night before and waiting for him to show up at the ruins, he
had watched the way Quinn moved. The man was at such ease with his body. Despite the
fact that he was over six feet of brawny male, he moved with the grace of a deer—it was
something to behold.
Shit, there goes my cock again!
Making sure he faced the counter to hide any sign of what was going on with his
disloyal body, he turned his head as Quinn approached.
“And what do you want?” he asked in his own very nonchalant way.
Quinn paused, staring directly into Jake’s eyes the entire time, then answered in what
Jake could swear was a sultry voice, “I’ll have what you’re having.”
Quinn smiled seductively and Jake panicked.
Is he flirting with me?
Jake turned quickly away and did his best to control what he was sure would come out
as a tremor in his voice.
“Fine. Two vanilla lattes.”
“Vanilla, huh? Good to know.”
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50
Jake’s jaw dropped before he could stop it, and Quinn murmured in his ear, “Thank
you for the drink, detective.”
Jake watched as Quinn walked back to their table, giving him an excellent view of his
hot ass, showcased in tight jeans. Jake swallowed, and tried to pull himself together. The
warmth of Quinn’s sweet breath still lingered from where he’d whispered in his ear. Not
good. Sooooo not good.
Jake ordered their drinks, and the girl at the counter told him she would bring them
when they were ready. As he put his wallet away, he thought about what might be going on
here.
Wait a minute. He doesn’t even know if I’m gay. Is he trying to mess with me?
Jake sat down, and glared at Quinn.
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be real, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Then what was that little performance all about?”
Quinn leant back again, this time putting his arms behind his head, relaxing into the
wall.
“Performance? I don’t know what you mean. I’m just trying to be friendly about this
whole thing.”
Now Jake was sure the guy was messing with him.
“I don’t see this working out if we can’t be honest with one another.”
“Knock it off, cop…”
“Detective.”
“Sure, Detective. Look, you need my help to give you more names, more information
about my personal life.”
“True. And you need my help to let you know what’s really going on with the
investigation, and what we do and do not know already. So quit trying to get me flustered
with sexual innuendoes—especially when you know nothing about me or my personal life.”
Damn. When did I start blabbing like this to suspects and leads? What the hell.
The server came over with their drinks, and Jake used this opportunity to try to collect
himself.
“Well,” said Quinn. “Now you really have me intrigued.”
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51
He said this in such a non-intrigued way, that Jake couldn’t figure out where he was
coming from. He looked down at his latte, making himself busy by adding additional sugar
and cream and stirring it in. He should change the subject, and fast. But would telling Quinn
he was gay maybe make the man trust him more? Or was he using that as an excuse to see if
Quinn was actually interested, and not just playing him? Maybe this whole thing truly was a
bad idea, and he should just call it all off.
But then he remembered the crime scene with John, and the pain on Quinn’s face when
he’d found out what had been done to his former lover. He thought back to the murder
before this one, where the man had been found tied up naked to a chair. The victim had been
seated backwards, his hands bound behind his back, his ankles to the legs of the piece of
furniture. His chin had been resting on the high ladder-back part, and it had almost seemed
like he was asleep. But when he’d looked closer, he could see it. His throat had been slit ear
to ear.
The one prior to that, the first killing when they still didn’t know it was going to be the
first of three, had been just as awful. At that time, it had been thought to be an S&M scene
gone horribly wrong. That victim had been tied with his hands above his head in what was
his own personal BDSM playroom. His ankles had been secured to bolts in the floor, his legs
spread wide. There had been burn marks, and little cuts, and finally—the fatal injury—he
had been eviscerated. As with John, neither of these victims had had sexual contact with the
murderer, which meant any scenes they found them in were just for show. Whoever was
doing this wasn’t getting their rocks off, they were making a statement.
These men hadn’t deserved such gruesome deaths, and if being completely open and
honest with Quinn could help prevent another one, so be it. Even if he had another, more
selfish motive, it didn’t matter when weighed against the benefits.
“Are you going to keep stirring that until it becomes butter, or are you going to drink
it?”
Jake set his spoon down, and adopted a relaxed pose like Quinn, except he kept his
arms to his sides. He still had no idea how to read this guy—he was locked up tight—but he
hoped that confiding in him on a personal level might help relax the man’s guard, if even just
a little.
“Okay. Let’s start over. We’re being real here, right?”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
52
Quinn nodded, and brought his arms down to lean on the table, putting him just a bit
closer to Jake.
“So,” said Jake. “I’ll share something about me personally.” Jake cleared his throat, a
bad habit he had when he was nervous. “I’m gay.”
Jake could swear he saw Quinn flinch, but he had no idea how to interpret it.
“I wondered…” said Quinn so softly, Jake wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
“You wondered? Why?”
It was like Quinn caught himself, and the mask flew back on.
“I don’t know. I just did,” he said almost angrily.
“And that whole flirty thing back there, that was just to mess with me, throw me off-
guard?”
Quinn broke his gaze, staring out of the window towards the front of the coffee house.
The silence became more awkward the longer it stretched on.
“I need to use the men’s room.”
With that Quinn abruptly stood and headed to the restrooms. Jake was fairly stunned.
He was also rather frustrated, and wondered how they’d got so far off-track. He’d been at the
coffee house for over twenty minutes, and they hadn’t gone any further than him revealing
he was gay, and asking a question—that was never answered—about the business card from
John’s murder. When Quinn came back, they would just get down to business.
Right then, Quinn sat back down, across from Jake. This time, he looked directly into
Jake’s eyes, and his gaze didn’t waver. Jake melted inside. Everything about Quinn was so
intense, that for the first time, he felt like he was experiencing who the man really was. That
there was something so big and amazing inside him, it would be more than he could ever
handle. And suddenly, he thought he wanted to try.
Quinn reached his hands across the table that separated them and gently took Jake’s,
never letting his eyes drop. Jake swallowed, holding his breath. He didn’t know if he should
say anything, yank his hands away, protest or tell Quinn he was falling for him.
Barely above a whisper, Jake said, “What’s happening here?”
“I wanted you to know that I wasn’t messing with you, I swear. I…I’m not very good at
this. I don’t get to know men, not closely. I’m not a relationship guy. But maybe…”
He paused, and Jake held his breath again.
Maybe what?
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
53
Quinn shook his head, and began to pull away. “I can’t…”
Without thinking, Jake grabbed Quinn’s hands.
“Yeah. Maybe. As soon as we get this bastard, okay?”
Quinn paused, seeming to search Jake’s face. “Okay.” He shook his head. “You’re a
different one, detective. We’ll see.”
Jake let go of his grip on Quinn’s hands, and this time when Quinn pulled them away,
he did so gently.
A surge of giddiness swept through Jake, as well as a sense of purpose. ‘Maybe’. He
could live with that. In the meantime, they had a killer to catch.
“Now, where were we?” asked Jake, sipping his cooling latte and trying to regain his
composure.
Quinn shifted in his seat and took a sip of his drink. “I like vanilla,” he said, and lifted
just his eyes to meet Jake’s.
Jake sucked in his breath.
“Damn, detective,” said Quinn, “What are you doing to me?” He set his coffee down.
“But what I really want—no need—for you to know right now is just how important it is to
me to get whoever is responsible for these killings. And I’ll add this—I have no idea where to
start. I’ve racked my brain since I first found out about the initial victim, when one of your
guys first routinely questioned me about knowing him, to try and figure out who would do
such a thing. By the time my buddy Richard told me about the second one—I was freaking
out. It’s ironic—I actually suspected Cole at one point. Thought he was trying to eliminate
the competition.”
“Do you still think that’s possible?” interjected Jake.
“I don’t know, could be? Yesterday I was actually just scared for him. I thought he
might be a logical next target since he’s the person, other than John, that I’ve been with the
most in the last year. I was going to go and tell him to get out of town, help fund him. And
then he threw me under the bus instead.”
“Is there any reason that you can think of why he would have had the business card
from here? Is poetry your only connection to this place?”
“Pretty much. I read my poetry here sometimes at the open mic nights, but he only ever
came to one. I had a show once for the release of a chapbook that was published of my
poetry. He showed up and was intimidated by the other men there, so he never went to
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
54
another one. He said it was too painful to watch all the guys fawning over me. Which was a
huge exaggeration, by the way.”
I doubt that.
Jake could only imagine how many guys would be ogling this sexy man, pouring his
feelings out in some type of angsty poetry. It was probably the only time the guy ever
expressed deep feelings aloud.
“Anyone else who might have had that card? Men who came to your shows? Any
regulars?”
“Yeah. Several. But I don’t know the names of half of them, which is what’s been eating
at me this whole time. I was thinking of doing another show, maybe advertising it, so that I
could get a good look at all of them…”
“Holy shit, Quinn. I think you really have something, that’s actually a great idea. I
could have some plants in the audience, we could secretly tape it. Wow. You’re really in
touch with your inner detective.”
“Bite your tongue. You think it’s a good idea then?”
“Absolutely. I have to get it cleared at the station, but we should plan it right away.
How well do you know whoever’s in charge?”
“Pretty well. He’s always happy when I bring people in. The release party had this
place filled to capacity—they did really well that night.”
“Perfect. Before we leave today, we’ll set a date.”
“I thought you had to get it cleared, detective. You seem awfully excited.”
Quinn had that smoky look in his eyes that was going to be the death of Jake, but he just
smirked back.
“I can push this through at the station, but I still have to run it by them. Until then, let’s
work on any other leads we can. Who else, Quinn? Who else have you been with in recent
years? Anyone—even a one-night stand.”
Quinn looked away again, his temporary humour gone. “It doesn’t seem right
somehow,” he said almost absently.
“Excuse me?” asked Jake.
Quinn looked at him dead-on. “I can’t believe this. I never used to care, but then, I
never talked about it with anyone.”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to say to me, Quinn.”
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
55
“I’m talking about my sex life. I just hooked up with whoever I felt like, since I knew I
would never get emotionally involved. I never considered how it affected them—I guess I
figured they were adults, they could handle it. I never thought about it eventually catching
up with me in some way—that I might be scarred by it since I was being so careful to remain
detached. But I’ll never get over this. I’ll never get over how men I slept with were brutally
murdered because of me.”
“Hey, hey, now wait a minute. It’s likely there’s a connection to you, but that doesn’t
mean it’s because of you. And even if in some twisted way the killer was doing this because
of an insane desire to get back at you somehow, that’s on them. We can never know or
control how other people act. We’re all just doing the best we can.”
“Am I? I don’t know anymore. I think Richard’s been right all along.”
Jake got out his notebook. “Richard? Is he a former lover?”
Quinn snorted. “Hardly. He’s my best buddy on the rez. We’ve been inseparable since
we were like five or something. He’s pretty much the only one there that I even talk to
anymore. He’s been after me to open up to people, let them in to get to know me. I thought
he was full of shit, too emotional. Yet, I’ve been closer to him than any of the men I’ve ever
slept with. Go figure.”
Jake scribbled down notes. He stopped, and tried to make his next question sound off-
hand. “So why are you so closed off?”
“That’s a story for another time, my dear detective. Maybe when you’re off-duty.”
Jake couldn’t help but clear his throat on that last statement. It left so many possibilities
open.
“Okay, fair enough. But what about Richard? Maybe he’s jealous that you, you know,
with these other men and not him.”
“That I ‘you know’. What are we, twelve? You mean is Richard jealous that I’m fucking
other guys and not him?”
“Quinn? What are you doing here during the day? Long time, no see.”
Jake slammed his notebook shut, and turned to the source of the voice. A tall, blond and
rather good-looking—in an unnerving way—strong-jawed man stood behind him with a big
grin on his face. He had a busty red-headed woman with him, who was in short shorts,
stilettos and way too much makeup. Blondie eyeballed Quinn with an almost hungry look—
ARRESTING BEHAVIOUR Morticia Knight
56
which seemed odd—and Jake was pretty sure he could have spontaneously combusted and
the guy never even would have noticed.
“Hey, Andy, right?” asked Quinn.
The man laughed a deep-throated laugh. “I guess I didn’t make much of a grand
impression. No, it’s Andrew, and this is Trina. I don’t know if you remember her from the
last open mic you attended? She did the piece on vibrators.”
Trina giggled and nudged Andrew with her elbow.
“Right, sorry. Andrew, Trina, this is my friend Jake.”
Andrew turned to regard Jake then extended his hand slowly. “I see. Hello, friend
Jake.”
As Jake took the man’s limp hand, he observed that Andrew was clearly filled with
raging curiosity over what Jake was to Quinn. He suddenly felt warm satisfaction that this
man was a little irked that Jake was there with Quinn, and he was not. Except something
seemed off. The guy was obviously touchy-feely with Trina, but then again, he might be bi.
“Well, gentlemen, I see you’re busy with something or another, so I won’t intrude. Will
you be at the open mic on Tuesday?”
Andrew’s gaze was set on Quinn, and Jake knew that Andrew couldn’t give a shit if
Jake was anywhere on Tuesday. He could also tell that Quinn had his impeccably trained
mask on.
“I haven’t been feeling very poetic these days.”
Andrew cocked his head to one side. “Tragic. Yet here you are at the scene of the crime.
Well, I hope to see you soon. I’ve always felt that you have a great talent. It would be a
shame to waste it on those who are unappreciative.”
Jake was dying to know who this guy was to Quinn, and it wasn’t purely personal
interest. The man was very controlled, and had an affected air about him, as if he came from
royalty, as opposed to a Phoenix suburb.
“I thank you for your kind words,” Quinn said in a monotone voice.
“Good day then.” Andrew sauntered with the vibrator poet over to the drinks counter.
Quinn had the sense to immediately begin talking about random tribal facts until the
two got their drinks and left. Fortunately, the gruesome twosome had decided not to hang
around.
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57
“What was that all about?” Jake blurted as soon as the front door had closed behind
Andrew.
“Don’t be jealous, babe.”
Jake frowned, and tried to ignore the little flutter in his stomach at the endearment.
“Actually, that was not my concern, although, if you have slept with him, we probably
should be discussing if he’s at risk.”
“God, no. I haven’t slept with him. I don’t just jump everything that stands still long
enough. There has to at least be some sort of redeeming quality.”
“I wasn’t suggesting…never mind. Then can we look at him as a possible suspect?
Angry that he hasn’t had the pleasure?” Jake cleared his throat.
I need to cut that out.
“Well, detective, that’s a good theory, except this guy is a horn dog with the ladies. He
swoops down on every single one that comes through here. He likes the busty ones that wear
a lot of makeup and such, as you could see. For some reason, he’s tried to cuddle up to me on
occasion, but I think it has more to do with me getting published, than with him getting
laid.”
“Hmmm. Well, I think we might want to try and interview him at some point anyway.
We should make sure he knows about your upcoming show too.”
“We’ll see.” Quinn was avoiding Jake’s eyes.
“What’s up?”
Quinn sighed. “Look. I’ve always tried to keep my regular life and sexual partners
apart from one another. But John did show up at the chapbook release show, same as Cole.
That’s the real reason he refused to ever come back again. But it was not on a Tuesday like
the card said, and it was a long time ago. There was a large turnout, and I was sort of
surprised at the amount of gay men. I guess I’ve developed a small following. It was a little
disconcerting, and there was a lot of tension between Cole and John.”
“Enough that Cole might have felt threatened by John’s attentions towards you?”
“I never considered that at the time, just more of it being awkward, but in light of recent
events…I don’t know. I don’t want to accuse anyone.”
“Yet Cole wasn’t shy about accusing you. Look, you can’t hold back any info from me,
even in the interest of protecting someone. Every little detail matters, I’m serious.”
“But I can understand. He was afraid. Hell, I was afraid for him too.”
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58
Jake crossed his arms and stared Quinn down.
“Fine. You’re right. I won’t hold back any more info from now on, no matter how
pointless I think it is.”
“Okay, as it stands, I think we can make good use of today by talking to both Cole and
Richard, after you speak with the bookers here.”
“Why Richard?” Quinn looked a little irked.
“If the two of you are as close as you say, he may have some insight into this that you
hadn’t thought of. In addition, he could possibly provide alibis, or serve as a character
witness—should it ever come down to that.”
“The alibi thing is unlikely. I keep to myself most of the time, and I was conveniently
alone on all three nights in question. I’ve already been grilled on that.”
Jake chuckled.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. However, he could also provide timelines of events that might
prove you were too far away to be involved, or other things we haven’t thought of yet.”
Quinn looked doubtful. “It’s fine with me, detective, but I’d better call and talk to
Richard about it first. Your type isn’t super popular on the rez.”
“I know. But I’m betting he’ll want to do anything he can to help his best friend out.”
Quinn nodded.
“One final thing,” continued Jake, “before we leave here, I want you to make a list of
every single man you’ve been with in the last five years. Also—any details you have access to
such as contact info, towns or cities you met them in, hangouts, etc. We don’t want to make
the mistake of leaving any person vulnerable out there.”
Quinn lowered his head. “This is all on me. I should have come to you sooner—maybe
John would still be alive.”
“Look,” said Jake, taking Quinn’s hand gently again. “I’m not going to say I
understand, because I can never truly know what it’s been like for you. But I do get the part
where you have been raised with a mistrust for the government and the police, and I’m not
going to pretend that there isn’t some good reason for that mistrust. All I can offer you right
now is a chance for us to work as a team—without any preconceived prejudices about the
other—to bring this asshole to justice, and to stop him from doing any more harm, all right?”
Quinn squeezed Jake’s hand. “All right.”
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Quinn purchased another round of lattes for them, and they spent the next hour going
over Quinn’s list, and making arrangements to meet up with both Cole and Richard. It
turned out that the one they thought would be the most difficult to convince—Richard—was
anxious to have a chance to speak with Jake. Cole, on the other hand, was terrified that
Quinn was really going to come after him now.
As they left the coffee shop, Jake suggested that they travel together.
“Won’t that make a lot of extra driving for you? You’ll have to bring me back here to
get my ride.”
“Actually, it’ll be much easier so that we don’t get separated. It will also give us a
chance to talk over other possibilities while we’re travelling.”
There was peace and a calm that Jake hadn’t felt in a long time with Quinn seated by
him in his truck. He tried not to attach too much significance to it, but he was enjoying the
opportunity to spend the day with this gorgeous man—even if it was under the most awful
circumstances.
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Chapter Six
It took close to an hour to get from the coffee house to Quinn’s place outside
Blackwater, and Richard was already waiting for them when they pulled up. The drive over
had been a tad awkward at first, but after a while, Quinn had relaxed and had honestly
found himself enjoying listening to Jake blab away about his nana chasing him and his
brothers and sisters around with a broom when they’d been kids. He’d explained that she’d
hated it when the little ones would get in her way in the kitchen. Then, once the girls had hit
six years old, they’d been dragged back into the kitchen to learn all of her amazing recipes
for things such as sofrito—a red sauce of crushed tomato, garlic, green peppers and other
wonderful ingredients that added a rich flavour to refried beans and almost anything else
you could think of—and sopapillas, bits of fried puffed pastry with a sprinkling of powdered
sugar.
Quinn had commented on that. “I think your grandmother should cook for me
sometime. I should have had more than coffee back at the Lo-Fi.”
Jake cleared his throat. “I know of a decent taco stand we can hit over in Coolidge
before we meet up with Cole.”
It seems like my detective has a bit of a nervous tic. It’s almost as cute as that dimple.
Jake had sneaked a quick peek over at Quinn who was smiling back at him. “I’d like
that.”
Yes, he is all kinds of adorable. I must be delirious from all that’s been happening lately.
As they approached Richard in the driveway and came to a stop, Quinn could see his
buddy had a ridiculous grin on his face.
What is his problem?
“What are you so happy about, bro?” Quinn asked as he stepped out of the truck.
For some reason, Richard’s demeanour suddenly irked him.
“I’m glad to see that you have found someone on the police force that might be able to
do something about all this shit that’s been going down.”
Quinn looked over at Jake, who approached both of them from the driver’s side of the
truck.
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“Hi,” he said to Richard, his hand extended as he got closer. “I’m Detective Gutierrez,
nice to meet you. Richard, I assume?”
“Yes, detective. I’m actually very glad to meet you.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
Quinn bristled a little, feeling protective over his long-standing bond with his best
friend, but calmed himself almost immediately. He was becoming accustomed to Jake’s
abrupt manner when he went into cop mode, and had figured out it was the man’s way of
keeping the upper hand when interrogating. It was actually quite smart, and Quinn found
himself questioning some of the pre-conceived notions he’d carried for years regarding law
enforcement. It was a job that had its place, and in the hands of the right person with the best
of intentions, it was an honourable one at that.
“Why don’t we get out of this fucking heat?” Quinn interjected.
“Good call,” said Richard, and they all followed him indoors.
Quinn noted how intensely Jake scrutinised his home and wondered how much of it
was personal, and how much was professional interest. Jake stopped just in front of his still-
unfinished canvas of the eagle. Quinn’s stomach clenched, suddenly concerned about several
things. Would he like it? Would he think that it was indicative of some sort of violent
tendencies?
“Wow,” said Jake, “this is beautiful.”
He looked as though he were completely lost in it.
Richard elbowed Quinn with a little smirk, and Quinn flicked him hard on his arm—
something they had done since they were kids. The idea was to see who could flick the other
one the hardest, until one of them cried uncle. His grandfather would yell at him about the
bruises on his arms all the time, but Quinn had been proud that he was the one who usually
lasted the longest.
Jake turned around. “So… Richard.” He paused as he surveyed the open room, and
Quinn figured he was looking for a place for them all to sit.
“Here, you guys go ahead and take the settee, I’ll make some tea.”
He couldn’t help his next remark—he suddenly felt lighter than he had in a while.
“Sorry I don’t have anything with vanilla, detective.”
Richard frowned questioningly, and Jake just frowned.
“That’s fine,” he said. “Not everything has to be vanilla.”
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“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Quinn knew Richard was going to grill him hard about all of this later. It was too
obvious that this was not a one hundred per cent formal interaction.
“You wanted to know why I was glad to meet you, Detective?” Richard sputtered,
seemingly trying to bring things back to why they were all there.
Jake turned to speak to his friend, and Quinn went ahead and put some hot water on,
picking out which of his personal blends he wanted Jake to try. He vaguely listened to
Richard explain how he had encouraged Quinn to go to the authorities earlier, and that he
was glad that they all seemed to be on the same page. Jake then went through some
questions that revisited a lot of the things they had discussed earlier. Quinn finally settled on
a tea blend that was one of his favourites made with sage, liquorice root, juniper berry and
other herbs. Then something caught his ear, and he put the scoop he had been using down.
“Have you been to any of Quinn’s poetry shows?”
That was something that Jake hadn’t asked Quinn about back at the coffeehouse.
That’s right—we had been talking about Richard when Andrew interrupted.
“I went to the chapbook release party. And I remember John, Cole and that other guy—
the one that was killed first—what was his name?”
Quinn suddenly felt a little queasy.
“What are you talking about? Taylor wasn’t there.”
“Right—Taylor. Yeah he was.”
Quinn watched as Jake scribbled notes down in his little book. He did not like the
direction this conversation was taking. Although this time, it wasn’t because of anything Jake
had said or done. He was now wondering about Richard. How did Richard even know about
Taylor? He’d only told him who he was when the murder had hit the news—but before?
Besides the fact that Quinn was certain Taylor hadn’t even been there that night. The only
ones who had been to that particular show, as far as he knew, were John and Cole.
“Sorry bro, but you must have him mixed up with someone else. I’m sure he wasn’t
there.”
Richard looked questioningly at Quinn. “Uh, sure. If you say so. I guess I’m getting the
nights mixed up.”
“Mixed up?” Asked Jake, interrupting his note-taking. “I thought you only went to the
chapbook party? What other night are you referring to?”
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Quinn was not at all happy with the sudden chill in the room. What had initially been
an opportunity to talk to someone who would be one of his supporters, and might be able to
help clear his name, was turning into an uncomfortable grilling session of one of his closest
friends. And even Quinn had to admit that Richard sounded confused.
“I’m not. I mean—I only went to the one show. What I was trying to say is that I was
mixed up about who I saw there, not that I was there another night. It must not have been
Taylor after all.”
An awkward silence followed that was suddenly pierced by the wail of the tea kettle.
“Okay,” Jake continued. “Did you know Taylor, John or Cole outside of the poetry
place?”
Richard shifted uncomfortably. “No. I mean, I knew of them, through Quinn.”
That’s not right. I know I never said anything about Taylor. The others, yes, but not Taylor.
Quinn suddenly wanted this whole thing to stop so that he could get a chance to talk to
Richard alone. He wasn’t going so far in his thinking as to suddenly suspect his closest friend
of over twenty-five years, but something seemed off, and he wanted to know what it was.
“And what did Quinn tell you?”
“Look, Detective, Quinn and I don’t really go into much detail about his personal
life…”
“But aren’t you his one closest friend, the only person he really trusts?”
“Excuse me,” said Quinn, “I’m still in the room.”
“Maybe this would be better if Richard and I could have a few minutes alone. I don’t
typically interview people with the other subject present—I guess I didn’t think this all the
way through.”
Quinn snorted. “Subject? Fine. I’ll be outside.”
He slammed the kettle back down on the stove and stomped outside.
I’m acting like a child, but I can’t seem to help it.
Something about Jake’s impersonal tone had really chafed at him.
Emotions are such bullshit.
Attachments. Relationships. Commitments. Nothing but a load of hassle. Any time he
started feeling something soft or gentle about another human being it turned out bad.
Although he had to admit that cutting off his emotions hadn’t worked out so well for Taylor,
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64
John and Stephen—the second victim. He was going to have to decide pretty quickly just
how much of himself he was really willing to share with the sultry young detective after all.
Jake was taken aback by how abruptly Quinn had exited, but he had already come to
the conclusion that the man was a bit of a seething cauldron underneath his controlled
exterior. He knew it was going to likely take a while to understand one another’s rhythms in
order for them to work.
Them.
Jake didn’t have time to think about that just then, he was suddenly intrigued by
Richard, and wanted to keep pushing him.
“So, you were saying how you don’t really get too much into Quinn’s personal life?”
Richard appeared much more relaxed since Quinn had left. Jake wasn’t entirely sure
what to make of that.
“Okay, here’s the deal, detective. I’m glad you asked him to leave. I just know him so
well as a friend, and how he reacts to things, and I was just incredibly uncomfortable talking
about his romances in front of him—I know only too well just how private he is. I guess I’m
coming off a little too flustered—sorry. I’m getting confused about what I’ve heard on the
news, what Quinn’s told me and what I know personally.”
“No worries. But would you really consider what he had with those men romances?”
Careful, buddy. Are you asking for your sake, or for the case?
“Well, I suppose not. They weren’t entirely flings though, in the sense that he would see
the same men unless they got fed up with him or vice-versa.”
“What actions or events would you say qualified either party becoming fed up?”
“Typically, it was because he refused to be monogamous with any of them. That was
definitely a problem a lot of the time. For him, it was if they became too needy or clingy. I got
the impression from a few snide remarks he’d made about Cole recently that he was next on
the chopping block…”
Jake cringed.
“Shit. I’m sorry—that was just a euphemism, I certainly didn’t mean…oh my God I’m a
moron.”
“If you’re about to say that Quinn is going to kill you for saying that, then I’ll have to
agree.”
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65
Richard gave Jake a shocked look, and Jake couldn’t help but smile. Then Richard burst
out laughing, instantly relieving the tension that had been in the air.
“Oh man,” said Richard sighing. “You’re all right. I’ve just never talked to the police
before about anything, let alone something this awful involving my friend. You don’t
actually think he’s guilty do you?”
“We wouldn’t be driving around together like this if I did. But I need you to relax, and
really think if there’s anything that could establish his whereabouts during any of the
murders—even close to around the murders—to help your friend out. Or anything that he
ever said to you about someone behaving oddly, an unusually disgruntled ex—anything that
could point to a possible suspect.”
“Of course, Detective, I will. I was really anxious to talk to you, to help, I don’t know
why I got so nervous.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hey, weren’t we supposed to get some tea or something?”
They still had a few hours to go before they were due to meet with Cole, so Jake
thought it might be a good idea to try to bring Quinn back in, lighten things up, and see if
that didn’t help open Richard up a little. And maybe calm Quinn down.
At that moment, Quinn came back in, looking slightly less annoyed than when he’d
marched out.
“You two sound like you’re having lots of fun in here laughing it up. I thought this was
supposed to be a thoroughly professional inquisition about one of your subjects?”
Quinn stopped just inside the doorway with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Chill out bro and get us our damned tea.”
Jake could see that there was an obvious buddy bond between the two, and in some
ways, he felt like an intruder. He caught Quinn looking at him, and his gaze softened from
when he’d first come back in.
“Tea, and then I want to go to that taco place you promised to take me to.”
Richard gave Jake an odd expression, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Quinn’s
friend was thinking about. It was then that he realised that the goofy grin on his face was
probably giving away too much information about how he felt about Quinn.
Great. So much for pure professionalism.
Quinn regarded Jake.
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66
God, what an amazing smile.
And the look on Richard’s face told stories—he was obviously going to be grilled
repeatedly later on—it was too apparent that they were both into each other. With sudden
clarity, he figured that was one of the reasons Jake had been abrupt with him just a little
while ago. Behaving so immaturely had no doubt made it even more clear to Richard just
how personal his feelings were towards the detective. Neither one of them were doing a
great job of being completely impersonal—they would have to be extra careful when they
met with the already overly-sensitive Cole.
After pouring the tea, the conversation had turned to lighter subjects. They moved the
settee around so that they could all face one another, Quinn sitting on the edge of his
mattress. His mind kept wandering to how much he wished Jake were there alone with him,
and that he were next to him on the mattress.
They’d agreed on maybe, right?
Maybe was feeling much more definite as the day wore on.
After about an hour of more tales than he could stand of Richard talking about all the
trouble they used to get into, Quinn stood up.
“I think we should get moving. Plus—I’m starving.”
Jake acted a little disappointed. Quinn had the sense that the man was enjoying hearing
all of these personal details about him. For once, it didn’t bother him. Maybe he wasn’t ready
to jump in and open up about a bunch of stuff just yet, but it was okay that Richard was
stepping in and doing it for him.
They said their goodbyes, and got back into Jake’s truck.
There was a small silence until they got back out on the highway.
“Hey,” said Quinn, “I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know why I got so upset.”
“I do,” said Jake.
Against his will, he was getting irritated again.
What makes this detective think he knows me so damn well?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take it easy, I’m not saying anything bad about you. I just think that maybe you didn’t
like me kicking you out of your own home, talking about you with your buddy—I
understand. I hope you know I was just doing my job, and trying not to let your friend get
any ideas about us.”
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67
“There is no us.”
Quinn immediately wished he could grab those words back—but they were out there.
He felt awful. He really was quite the expert at alienating any potential male partners,
but this guy was the last one he wanted to do that to.
“Okay, got it.”
“Jake, listen to me…”
“No, you’re right, there isn’t anything with us right now. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Quinn could hear the hurt in the man’s voice. Unlike himself, this guy clearly wasn’t
practised in the art of stuffing down his emotions.
“Shut up and listen to me. I’m a mess right now. Actually, I’ve been a mess for a long
time.”
It was easier to talk like this because Jake had his eyes trained on the road, and not on
him.
“I’m probably going to do and say a lot of shitty things while I figure out how to be a
human being again, all right? You need to know that I am interested in the possibility of an
‘us’, but you also need to know that I’m going to likely fuck it up without even trying. I’ll
totally understand if it comes to the point where you decide you just can’t stand to be around
me. But try, okay?”
He could see the beginnings of Jake’s dimple-producing lopsided smile, and felt his
dick stir at the thought of that mouth wrapped around his cock, suckling it eagerly, rasping
the underside of his shaft and the head with his warm, wet tongue.
Jesus.
“Okay, Quinn. But give a guy a break when they’re on your side, huh?”
“I’m doing my best, detective. But if I don’t get a taco pretty soon, I’ll not be responsible
for my behaviour.”
“Oh really? And what kind of behaviour is that?”
“As soon as we find this killer, I’ll show you. All night long.”
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Chapter Seven
He had to be even more careful than ever. He saw in the papers that they’d brought
Quinn in for questioning. He had counted all along on the man’s distrust of the law to keep
him from talking to the police, and that had worked perfectly for his agenda. The cops might
have a partial list of Quinn’s partners—but they didn’t know what he knew about Quinn’s
personal life.
You see, everyone thought that they knew about Quinn, fantasised that they were the
perfect one for him, but what they didn’t truly understand was that he was special in a way
that went way beyond how he used his cock. He had a special gift that allowed him to see
into the soul, but it wasn’t something that he ever shared with a sexual partner. Especially
the putrid men he chose to give himself to—it was pathetic. The truth was that genuine
artists could never belong to anyone—the sexual energy that was stolen from them always
tarnished their voice, prevented them from achieving their true greatness. They should
remain as priests, separate and unsullied.
The theory that one’s energy was sapped from sexual coupling was not his, it was well-
known. Even great athletes stayed away from their partners the night before a big game.
Coaches lectured them about it. Well he was there to ensure that this never happened to
Quinn. As more and more of his partners were eliminated, Quinn would finally stop seeking
new ones out of either fear or guilt—it didn’t matter which—and go about doing what he
should have been doing all along—creating magnificent art.
Someday when Quinn was recognised as a true genius, he would reveal to him that he
had been there to help him, that he was the only one that truly understood Quinn, and was
his true partner in art only. He wouldn’t take from his creative energy, he would supplement
it. Fortunately, he was very patient, but he had begun to speed up the process just a little.
After all, one couldn’t wait forever for such a fine specimen as his artist. He relished the
moment when Quinn realised all he had done for him. Then the man would set Quinn free as
he had done for another once before.
* * * *
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69
The hour they spent stuffing themselves at the taco stand had been the first time Jake
had felt completely at ease around Quinn. They were both careful to steer away from
sensitive topics, and just hung out, talking movies, music, Quinn’s art, Jake’s family and now
they were discussing some of the local history.
Quinn paused in the middle of explaining some of the legends attached to the
Hohokam people.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jake, concern clutching at his stomach. Everything had been
going so smoothly.
“You know, it’s a funny thing. I was just about to launch into an old story that we
never, ever share with outsiders—that would be you, my friend—and it seemed so right to
me, that I really wanted to tell it to you. I’ve never ever thought that way in the past.” Quinn
shook his head and laughed a little. “I’m honestly shocked.”
“So I’m an outsider then, huh?”
Jake didn’t say it defensively. He was just trying to see where Quinn was going with
this.
“Aren’t we all? I mean, we all feel left out in one way or another at times, right?”
Jake considered that. “Yeah, you’re right. Sometimes I do at the station. The guys—
most of them anyway—they don’t really include me in things. Like I’m not going to want to
play softball or go bowling because I’m gay. I don’t get that. Or maybe they just don’t want
to be seen hanging around a faggot.”
Quinn took one of Jake’s hands under the table. “I know.” He squeezed it hard, then let
go.
Then Quinn told him all about what had happened when he was seventeen.
Man, sometimes life just sucked.
He thought it made a little more sense now why Quinn was so reclusive.
“I’m curious. Say that kid you liked back then had been gay, had reciprocated and was
into you. What then? Would you have wanted a relationship?”
Quinn snickered. “You’ll laugh if I tell you.”
“No, man, I won’t. Come on.”
Quinn sighed and looked up at the covering over the picnic benches where they sat
outside the stand.
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70
“Why the fuck not? Okay, yeah I wanted a relationship. It was all I’d thought about for
like six months before I made my stupid move. I’d pictured us getting our own place when
we turned eighteen, and I don’t know, living happily-ever-after or some such bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit. I’ve thought about that stuff too. I’ve just never met anyone that
seemed like a good possibility.” Jake cleared his throat again.
Dammit. I need to quit doing that.
Quinn gave him a knowing smile, and it made Jake’s heart flutter.
“Let’s see if we can’t change that.”
Jake flushed.
They picked up their trays and dumped their trash, Jake with his own thoughts about
their conversation, and wondering about Quinn’s.
In no time after getting in the truck, they were at the entrance of the park, where it was
just getting ready to close—it was almost five o’clock.
“Look familiar?” joked Quinn.
“Yeah, somehow I feel like I’ve been here rather recently.”
At least their sense of humour matched, always a good thing as far as Jake was
concerned.
They parked near the front. The place was almost empty.
“Cole was a little jittery when I told him you would be coming along, but all he knows
is that I’m here to verify some statements, and that I brought you along to corroborate what
he says. I doubt he’s a police procedure expert.”
“No, but the man knows his pottery shards.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
Jake gave Quinn his lopsided smile, and could have sworn he saw a glimmer of
something in the man’s eyes.
I’m just wishing, that’s all.
They got up to the front door and an older, rotund security guard stopped them.
“Sorry, guys, we’re closing in five.”
Jake whipped his badge out, and without another word, the guard stepped aside.
As Quinn led the way out back where Cole’s office was located, he whispered, “Sweet.
I’d like to be able to do that some time.”
“I thought you hated the police.”
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71
“Not all of them.”
Jake stole a sideways glance at Quinn, but he stared straight ahead. There was
something about their combination that Jake liked. There was tension in both good and not-
so-good ways. But he honestly hoped there was a chance.
Quinn pointed to the door of the building where Cole was typically working when not
giving tours, and Jake gave a light knock. He heard the scrape of a chair, and the door
opened to reveal an ashen-faced Cole.
“I’m baaaack.”
Quinn pushed his way in, and Cole jumped aside.
“Hey,” he said rather feebly.
Jake stepped into the room that had several tables, computers, some microscopes and
other instruments that he had no knowledge of. This was absolutely not his realm of
expertise. There were rows and rows of enormous binders, and on the tables he could see
what looked like bits and pieces of artefacts, some old documents and other things he didn’t
fully recognise.
“Hello, Cole,” said Jake, trying to keep his voice friendly, as it was obvious that the man
was extremely uncomfortable. “May we sit down?”
Cole started at Jake’s voice. He had been staring at Quinn who had him locked in a
death glare. “Of course, sorry,” he said, gesturing for them to sit.
They all sat facing one another, almost in a triangular formation—Quinn conveniently
angled to continue his stare down of Cole. Jake nudged him with his foot, trying to pretend it
was by accident.
“So, Cole, I’m here today to just go over a few statements that you made to us, and see
if the two of you can agree—or not—on events the night of Quinn’s chapbook reading at the
Lo-Fi.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” asked Quinn abruptly.
“Mr Verdugo, I have a specific course of questioning that I would like to follow for my
own reasons. Can we continue please?”
Quinn gave him a sour look, but didn’t protest any further.
“I’m a little confused,” said Cole. “Why does he have to be here?”
“Oh, so I’m just ‘he’ now. Before I was your whole world, but I guess after betraying
me, you can just ignore me like I’m nothing…”
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72
“Like you ever really cared about me—you were just using me for sex anyway!”
“I was trying to help get you out of town, but instead you…”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” yelled Jake, “I can see I overestimated the ability of both
of you to behave maturely and stay focused on the issue, which is uncovering who the
murderer might be.”
Cole contemplated his hands, and Quinn sat up straight, turning to Jake. “You’re
absolutely correct, detective. I’ll shut up.” It was clear the last statement was directed at Cole.
“Fine,” said Jake. “I won’t take up too much of your time, but I would ask you to bear
in mind that you were the one who contacted us out of fear for your own safety, correct?”
Jake had wanted to make sure that Quinn heard this from Cole. He didn’t want there to
be any doubt about what had happened and why, the previous night.
Cole barely lifted his head. “Correct.”
“But you have since retracted your suspicions once we took Quinn downtown,
correct?”
That statement seemed to puzzle Quinn—Jake had been saving it.
“Yes.”
“And could you please tell me why that was?”
Cole began to weep softly. “I know he could never do such a thing. It was just…just that
latest killing had me so freaked out. Then Quinn called wanting me to give the police the
slip, meet him late at night—it all of a sudden seemed like he was the one doing it.”
“Okay.” Jake took a quick peek at Quinn who was staring intently at Cole. “So let’s go
back to the night at the Lo-Fi. Did Quinn know you were going to show up?”
“No. It was a last minute thing, and I was immediately sorry when I got there. I’d never
wanted to go to any of his readings. I’ll admit I’m not much of a poetry guy, and the last
thing I needed was to see a bunch of guys ogling him. I knew I’d be wondering all night long
who he’d slept with.”
“So there was never any question that he wasn’t monogamous with you, that was
understood?”
“Well, he understood it. I always hoped that someday he might get tired of all of that,
and see that I was loyal and good to be with, that we both shared a love of the history of his
people, he might even fall in love.”
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73
Cole turned his head away from Quinn a little. It was clear to Jake that this was all very
painful for him, and he began to feel bad for the man.
“I see. So back to the night in question, did you see anyone, or talk to anyone that you
thought Quinn had slept with?”
“Yeah. I did.” Cole sighed heavily. “That last guy that was killed—John. He was very
friendly and came right up to me, wanting to know if I was ‘the dude from the ruins’. At first
I was thrilled. I thought it meant that Quinn was telling his friends about me, that I must be
special or something. But he proceeded to introduce himself as one of Quinn’s other fuck
buddies, and started saying we should all hang out some time. It was nauseating.”
“Did anyone else talk to you or John, anyone that may have heard this conversation, or
commented on it?”
“Not that I was aware of. I left almost right after that.”
“Right after you flipped me off.”
Jake turned to Quinn. He did not seem very proud of himself.
Cole shrugged.
“I don’t blame you, Cole. I’ve been a complete asshole.”
Jake suddenly felt like he should leave the room. Quinn was being unusually forthright.
“I guess I pressured you even after you made it clear where we stood.”
“Yeah, well I still didn’t need to be so cold to you. Or keep on coming back when I
knew you really wanted more. I was being selfish.”
“I’m sorry about last night, I really am. I swear it was just one of those crazy things
where I got all jacked up with the circumstances and everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. As it turned out, I met Detective Gutierrez who seems like he
might actually have his head on straight, and be able to help get this sick freak.”
Jake had no recourse but to clear his throat in the face of such a declaration, he didn’t
know how else to respond. The last thing he needed right now was for poor Cole to guess
that there was any kind of spark between the two of them.
They spoke for a while longer, and with things between Cole and Quinn less awkward,
Cole became much more talkative. He was able to remember the descriptions of a couple
more guys from that night—but no names. Jake added the details to his notes, and as one
final thing, asked for a tour of the centre. He found that when people were in their own
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environment and comfortable, they tended to reveal a lot more than they wanted to or
realised. As far as Jake was concerned, Cole was still on his list of suspects.
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Chapter Eight
It had been a long and interesting day and Quinn’s head spun. The sun was setting low
on the horizon as Jake’s truck rolled down the highway and they headed back to Mesa to
drop him off at his car. They had settled into a comfortable silence, and he enjoyed the warm
air coming through the truck’s window, and the sound of Johnny Cash’s voice singing a
cover of the song Hurt by Trent Reznor. The gruff vibrato and plaintive acoustic guitar fit
perfectly with the plea in the song—seeking redemption through pain.
Quinn tried to shake himself out of the melancholy of his thoughts and reached for
Jake’s hand. Jake squeezed Quinn’s in response. At the end of the song, Quinn turned the
volume down a little.
“I like that you’re not an extreme air conditioning guy.”
Jake chuckled. “I’m not sure I know what that means.”
“Well, everyone’s pretty addicted to constant refrigerated air around here. They act as if
the temperature rises above sixty degrees they’re going to waste away. They might as well go
live in Alaska and be done with it.”
“Yeah, well when I was a kid we couldn’t afford to have the air conditioning running
night and day with my parents trying to raise five children. We only used it during the
middle of the day when the heat got to be the worst, so I’m used to the warm air at night. It’s
relaxing. I wouldn’t mind seeing Alaska some time though, I bet it’s gorgeous up there.”
Something about bringing up Alaska out loud made Quinn start to feel an urge to head
there. It had jumped into his head from seemingly nowhere.
That’s silly. There’s too much going on right now. Plus, there’s Jake.
What was he going to do about him when all of this was through? Right now they were
sort of testing the waters with each other in a very restricted way. Jake had been clear that
nothing could happen between them until the case was wrapped up. What if it took years to
catch the murderer? What if he kept on killing and killing? That thought caused him to pull
away from Jake—it was just too awful a thing to consider.
“What’s wrong?”
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He did like how the guy just spoke his mind and didn’t dick around. It was refreshing
and more the way he liked to deal with things. He’d certainly always been very blunt with
his lovers—most of whom hadn’t been able to handle it.
“I had a scary thought. What if we never get this guy, and he just keeps on going and
going? I don’t think I could cope with that. I doubt I could even process one more life being
lost because of me.”
“Hey, we’ve been through that. You’re not to blame, he is.”
Jake took Quinn’s hand back and stroked the top of it with his thumb, just as they
pulled off the highway, and headed towards Main Street and downtown. Soon they’d be
back at his car, and he would be saying goodnight to Jake, and going back to his home alone.
That had never bothered him before. He had never taken any of his men to his place—that
was strictly his sanctuary. But strangely—the same way he had almost blurted out one of his
people’s legends to Jake today—he suddenly wanted to take him back there. It was all too
overwhelming.
They pulled into the Lo-Fi, and Quinn directed Jake towards his car at the rear of the
now busy coffee house. It was music night and with the warmth outside, and the crowds
inside, there were plenty of people milling about, some smoking in the designated area.
“Plenty of people here now,” Jake commented. “Maybe we should go take a look
inside.”
“Nah, this isn’t my crowd.”
Shit. Why did I say that? Maybe he was giving us an excuse to spend a little more time together.
“But if you want to…”
“No, you’re right,” said Jake, pulling his hand away to park the truck. “It’s been a long
day, and I’m sure you’re still exhausted from everything that happened last night.”
Last night…
“Oh shit, I just remembered. Something really weird happened after I got home last
night. I had just fallen asleep, and I could have sworn that someone touched my arm. It
jerked me out of a sound sleep. I searched everywhere, but couldn’t find anyone. However,
my front door was wide open.”
“What?” gasped Jake. “And you didn’t call the cops?”
Quinn gave Jake a look that said ‘are you serious?’
“I don’t call the cops.”
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“I didn’t mean us necessarily, but what about the tribal force?”
Quinn snorted. “Whatever. Not them either.”
“Dammit, Quinn, this is serious. Someone broke in to your place and could have hurt
you while you were sleeping, it could have been the killer! What if you hadn’t woken up in
time?”
“They didn’t exactly break in.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t usually lock my front door.”
Jake buried his head in his hands then looked at the ceiling of his truck as though it
could lend him guidance.
“I can’t believe you, I really can’t. That’s it. I’m going with you back to your place to
keep an eye on you.”
“Oh no you’re not.”
Although… No, that would be really bad.
“Oh yes I am. No arguing. Part of this deal between us doesn’t include you getting
killed.”
“When was that inferred?”
“Just shut up, and don’t argue with me.”
“I see we’re going to have to have a conversation about just exactly who is the top and
who is the bottom in this relationship.”
Jake cleared his throat, as usual.
So cute.
“Fine. But in the meantime, we’re going back to your place.”
* * * *
Jake followed as closely as he could behind Quinn’s old, white Volvo Wagon. He was
sure he could get back to his place even if they became separated, but he had this bizarre
need to watch over him every second after hearing Quinn confess what had happened the
night before. But even he had shocked himself at how forceful he had been.
The guy brings out something in me for sure. I just can’t figure out how much of it is a good
thing.
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But it sure felt good. Just the few little times they’d held hands had been like magic to
him. He wasn’t usually very sappy, but his recent ponderings over getting serious with
someone and maybe starting a family seemed to be making him more open emotionally. He
suddenly seemed more gushy than he typically was.
Jake chuckled a little at that. Who knew he’d be falling for a guy like Quinn?
Careful, don’t get too hasty.
He was in dangerous territory by staying alone with the man at his place. There
couldn’t be any nonsense going on between them. Besides, Quinn hadn’t exactly invited him
over, he had just barged his way in. Now he was feeling foolish. Had he overstepped his
boundaries? It was just that he’d been so upset when Quinn had told him about the previous
night—a knot of fear had settled in his stomach at the thought of that sick bastard being
alone with Quinn, touching him, getting ready to do God-knows-what.
He would be completely professional. He was only there to keep watch. That was it.
It was going to be a long night.
He also needed to head to the station early in the morning to make sure that the whole
poetry night sting was set, and brief the lieutenant on his progress. Plus, he had to follow up
on the list Quinn had given him of previous partners. He couldn’t just remain glued to
Quinn’s side, even if that did seem like a nice idea.
Down boy.
He could feel a stirring in his jeans, and wasn’t sure all the resolve in the world would
help him if he were to arrive at Quinn’s place with a hard-on.
They got there ten minutes later, and Jake felt he had himself under control. It was a
gorgeous starry night, and he marvelled at the display in the sky this far out from the city
lights. That was one of his favourite things about the desert—everything seemed much purer
out there.
He jumped out of his truck as Quinn languidly got out of his car then walked towards
him. He had the briefest sensation the man was going to punch him or something, because
his pace quickened and he moved with such intent. The light from the waning full moon
illuminated Quinn’s graceful and sexy form as he drew nearer. Just as he got to him, Quinn
reached out, grabbed the back of Jake’s head and clamped his mouth onto Jake’s lips.
His breath was startled right out of him, but all he could do was melt against Quinn’s
muscled body, and reach up to twine his fingers in the man’s glorious mane of hair. This was
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exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be doing, but all reason and sanity had disappeared once
Quinn had locked lips with his.
There was nothing polite or reserved in the kiss. It was raw and feral, and everything
Jake had dreamt it would be. They used their hands everywhere on each other’s body, as
Quinn continued to plunder Jake’s mouth. He felt himself being guided towards Quinn’s
front door. At some point, Quinn managed to get it open—no lock as he’d said—and they
stumbled inside, still tangled up with each other. Quinn kept pushing Jake farther in, and he
began to feel the smallest stirrings of concern.
It’s not right. I shouldn’t—not yet.
Quinn grabbed the bulging heat between Jake’s legs and he was completely lost to this
man. He pressed his crotch forward as if there were some way to get any closer to Quinn’s
hand—the clothing separating their skin its own form of torture. Then he felt the edge of the
mattress with his ankles, and allowed Quinn to shove him down. As soon as he was on his
back with Quinn covering him, he wrapped his legs around the man’s hips. He was so
turned on—so enraptured by this man’s feel, scent, touch, he knew he was completely out of
control.
“Get your fucking clothes off, Jake.”
That’s the first time he’s used my name.
Jake unwrapped his legs, and Quinn rolled to the side, tearing his own clothes off,
shoving the blankets aside, his eyes never leaving Jake as he undressed.
“Fuck yeah. Lie down, babe—I’m going to eat you alive.”
Unbelievable.
Jake lay on the bed, closed his eyes and waited, anxious. He knew Quinn wouldn’t be
gentle, or subtle, and that was just what he wanted from him right now. He wanted this man
to fuck him to the edge of reason.
Suddenly, his cock was all the way at the back of Quinn’s throat. He was completely
wrapped in the wet heat, and couldn’t stop from pumping up into his mouth. But Quinn
held his hips down with his strong hands, not allowing Jake any control, teasing his dick
with his skilful tongue until Jake thought he would go completely insane.
“Quinn, I’m gonna come…”
Quinn let go of his shaft in one swift move, and Jake whimpered at the loss of his
lover’s sensuous mouth.
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“Not yet. I have more I want to do to you.”
Quinn’s voice was raspy, and he could tell he was just as turned on, just as desperate in
his need.
“Roll over.”
Jake did as he’d been told, the end of his dick overly sensitive from all of Quinn’s
pleasuring, and he squirmed a little in discomfort.
“Hold still, my luscious Jake, or I might have to spank you—even if you do prefer
vanilla.”
Jake smiled. Maybe he’d like to try other things with Quinn someday after all.
Quinn straddled him from behind, his strong, muscular thighs squeezing together on
the outside of Jake’s, teasing his crease with his erect penis, sliding back and forth, and using
his hands to knead Jake’s shoulders, arms and back. He could tell when Quinn leaned closer
to him, as little feathery wisps of his hair tickled his back, causing his desire to surge once
more. Closer and closer Quinn lowered, until his hair was draped across his lower back and
he scooted down Jake’s legs. He used his fingers to pry Jake’s ass cheeks aside, then plunged
his tongue into his entrance and fucked him unashamedly there.
Amazing.
Quinn was so insistent, so forceful. He had never felt this completely taken by another
man. He was getting concerned though, his desire was building in him so strongly, his balls
tightening—he needed release soon.
“Please, Quinn, I need you inside me. I can’t take this.”
Abruptly, Quinn removed his tongue, and quickly jumped up in one move.
Damn. How does he do that?
In less than a minute he was back from what Jake assumed was the bathroom, with a
condom and lube. It would have been a sad, sad moment if Quinn hadn’t had any protection.
“Don’t move, Jake. I’m going to take care of you real good.”
Jake closed his eyes again, savouring the moment. He pushed any thoughts of
repercussions aside—he was just a tightly wound ball of need. Anything else could be dealt
with later.
“Lift your ass up to me—that’s it, on your knees, head down. Beautiful.”
Quinn pushed two slicked fingers into his hole, and Jake relaxed into the pleasure of
this inner stroking. He suddenly felt as though he were the luckiest man alive. Quinn pushed
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deeper, caressing the tight knot of muscle within, that caused almost too much pleasure for
him to bear. He was prolonging Jake’s release, and he knew he would likely make a huge
mess when he finished.
Quinn removed his fingers, and pressed the mushroomed head of his cock against
Jake’s ready asshole. When he drove in, he filled Jake’s rectum to the hilt. Fully seated, he
held himself there for a moment, not moving, just allowing Jake to enjoy every delicious inch
of him.
“Does that feel good?” Quinn whispered gently right next to Jake’s ear, the mane of soft
hair dancing onto his shoulders, his chest pressed against Jake’s back.
“Oh, my God, yes. It feels beyond belief.”
Quinn sat back up—no doubt to give himself better leverage—and began to slowly
push in and out of Jake’s ass, holding the man’s hips to steady him. Jake moved his hand to
grab onto his dick, and Quinn stopped pumping into him.
“No, don’t. That’s for me to do for you.”
Holy shit, why didn’t I meet this guy years ago?
Quinn let go of one side of him, and reached around to grab Jake’s cock. His fingers
were still moistened from before, and he was able to slide his fist easily up and down Jake’s
hard, swollen shaft. Quinn began to thrust into him again, and continued jacking him off at
the same time. It was all too much—he had to come. The fullness in his ass, the stretching
that was just on the verge of painful, the stimulation of his prostate and finally the little
thumb tease on the end of Jake’s dick that Quinn kept doing—it was way more than any man
could take.
With a loud cry, he shot his cum over and over again onto the sheets. Just as he was
about wrung dry, Quinn also yelled out his release, and Jake felt the glorious pulsing of the
man’s cock deep inside him.
They stayed locked together for almost a minute, both of them overcome with ragged
breathing and the intensity of their lovemaking. Jake just wanted to hold Quinn now, but he
started to feel fear. Was he just another one of Quinn’s fucks?
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Chapter Nine
What had he done?
Quinn wasn’t feeling any regret, but he was afraid Jake might be. Had he wrongly
assumed that Jake had pretended to be concerned for his safety, and had used it as an excuse
so that they could be alone, tucked neatly away from the city and prying eyes? It had seemed
like a genius move on Jake’s part at the time, but now in the aftermath, things seemed a little
off.
Almost immediately after they’d finished, Quinn had gone to get some towels, and
when he’d come back, Jake had already been gathering his clothes as if he were anxious to
get out of there.
“Here you go,” he said, handing Jake a towel.
“Thanks.” He took it without even turning to look at Quinn.
Since Quinn was usually in the position of being the one to gather his clothes and leave,
he was a little at a loss as to what to do.
Jesus, now I know how all of those other guys felt. I am such an ass.
He reached over and put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. The man stiffened at first, but then
placed one of his hands on top of Quinn’s.
“Do you want me to go?” asked Jake quietly, without turning around.
“God no. Come here.”
He pulled Jake towards him by the shoulders, and Jake finally turned around and
curled up into his arms. They didn’t say anything for several minutes as Quinn cradled Jake
closely, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, softly caressing the top of his arm.
“I’m sorry,” said Jake, finally breaking the silence. “That was incredibly unprofessional
of me.”
Quinn could honestly say he thought he might be choking up a little. This was just not
his typical reaction to a man at all.
“Do you regret making love with me?”
Had he ever even used that term before with anyone? He truly couldn’t say.
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“No, please don’t think that, Quinn. It was the most amazing experience of my life—I
mean that.”
“Then what’s the problem? Do you think I’m using you, like all the others?”
“No… I mean…I don’t think so. It’s that I definitely shouldn’t have crossed the line
with you while the case is still open, and you’re not a hundred per cent cleared as a suspect. I
could actually lose my job. Or at the very least, be severely written up. It is so incredibly
against protocol.”
“Rules. Laws. You know I’m not a big fan of all of that, so forgive me if I can’t
completely empathise.” Quinn sighed. “I guess I’m too used to being a selfish prick. I know
your job is important to you. I don’t mean that you shouldn’t be concerned—that’s not my
place. But I will assure you of one thing, you’re not like all the others, I hope you believe that.
I simply can’t say exactly what it is, or might be yet—it’s still maybe.”
“I can handle that. I’m just really confused right now. I’ve always played by the rules.”
“Let’s only worry about tonight, okay? Do you want to stay here with me now?”
There was a pause, and Quinn feared what Jake’s answer might be. The one time he
wanted to hold a man in his arms in the night, and it seemed like he might get turned down.
“Yes. I do. Very much.”
Quinn exhaled heavily. “Then stay with me tonight, and tomorrow you can decide
what you want to do next.”
He kissed the top of Jake’s head, and snuggled even tighter with him, as though he
might disappear.
Jake isn’t the only one who’s confused.
* * * *
Jake woke up as the sun was just breaking the horizon, before his cell phone alarm even
went off. As wonderful as it was to be snuggled next to Quinn, the churning in his gut told
him he had to make up for the previous night’s actions, today. He wasn’t exactly going to
storm into the station screaming confessions, but he was going to put his game face on and
just focus on his responsibilities at work. He and Quinn could work out whatever else was
going on between them later.
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He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the mattress. He felt Quinn begin to stroke his
lower back.
“Anxious to leave, detective?”
Jake had his face in his hands, trying to rub the sleepiness out. He turned to face Quinn,
trying with little success to completely ignore his morning wood.
I’m screwed. Literally.
Quinn was the epitome of male hotness lying on the bed, legs leisurely splayed out, his
other arm cradling the back of his head, his hair sexily dishevelled against the pillowcase.
“No. But I should be. But then I see you lying there like that, and I just…”
Jake shook his head.
“What?” said Quinn.
“Oh, God—what am I going to do?”
Jake looked up at the ceiling, willing himself to turn away from the delectable Quinn in
his unashamed nakedness.
“Hey, come here.”
Quinn reached for Jake, but he resisted. “I can’t give in to you right now. My career, my
integrity as a human being, the potential lives of more victims—there is way too much at
stake for me to just be thinking of my dick right now.”
“Can you honestly say that’s all it is? Your dick? Or is there something more?”
Jake looked into Quinn’s beautiful dark eyes. There was something special about this
man, and Jake was dying to find out what existed beneath his defences. But it had to be later.
“I’m pretty sure there’s something more. All I’m saying is that the timing is for shit.”
“I get it, detective. But you’ll find out that I’m greedy and selfish. I’m also honest and
fiercely dedicated. You’ll be getting a mixed bag of stuff with me, and I respect your desire to
be true to your convictions. For now, I’m just asking for one more time with you before you
leave today. A chance to love you slowly with my entire being before you go back to your
rules, and we both go back to the ugliness of what brought us together. Then I will respect
your decision, and I won’t touch you until this is all over.”
I have no resistance, none whatsoever with this man. It’s like he has some sort of unnatural grip
on me.
Jake nodded, and began to reach for Quinn who held his arms out to him, but then he
froze.
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“What?” Quinn looked at him worriedly.
“Uh, not to break the mood, I just really need to take a shower. I still can’t believe I let
you do all of that to me yesterday without one. I won’t make you go through that again.”
Quinn laughed. “My senses were not offended by you at all last night. You were
delicious, detective.”
Jake found himself blushing—something he didn’t typically do.
“Nonetheless, I’d say I’m overly due for one right now.”
“How brave are you?”
“Brave? Why do I have to be brave?”
“This isn’t the Hilton. When I rebuilt this place, I didn’t add a hot water heater, so you
would be getting a cold shower.”
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Won’t that be defeating the purpose?”
“Hmmm…good point. I have an idea.”
Quinn rose from the bed, making no effort to cover up.
I sure would love to see that walking around my house every day, phew.
Jake watched transfixed as Quinn busied himself in the kitchen, filling a larger iron
kettle than the one he’d used for their tea the day before, and setting it on the stove. The taut
muscles in his legs, his shapely ass and even his upside-down triangle-shaped torso were
more than any man could ever wish for. Then there was his dark caramel skin—smooth and
hairless—begging to be worshipped with Jake’s hands and tongue.
Quinn worked on getting a fire started in the belly of the chimenea, and Jake snapped
out of his trance.
“Here, let me help you.”
Quinn shook his head and gestured with his hand for Jake to stay put.
“No, detective—I’m taking care of you right now.”
Jake sat back and enjoyed the Quinn show. The man squatted in front of the stove’s
opening, working to get the fire started, adding some grasses and other leaves in with the
wood that added a heady, outdoorsy fragrance to the room. Jake stole a glance at Quinn’s
amply endowed junk, his balls hanging low, his half-erect penis quite enticing.
Let’s get on with it.
After a few minutes of warming the water, Quinn pulled the kettle away, and poured it
into a large clay bowl. He dampened the fire a little—the temperature was already beginning
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to rise as the Arizona day came to life, and heat from the fire was the last thing they needed.
The moisture created more smoke, which produced a stronger fragrance in the room. Quinn
added something from a bottle to the bowl, and brought a sponge and the water bowl over to
the bed.
“Lie back, detective…”
“Use my name again.”
Quinn smiled, Jake easily able to see the warmth go to his eyes.
“Jake. Lie back and let me wash you.”
“Won’t we get everything all wet…”
“Shhh…do as I say.”
Jake did as he’d been told, and felt the soothing warm water, and what seemed to be
some type of oil being spread over his entire body. Quinn worked the natural sponge in
every crease and crevice, motioning for him to turn over at one point. It was so sensuous, and
Jake was so relaxed he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to drift off or jack off. Or both.
Quinn stopped, and Jake watched him get up, then empty the bowl in the sink. He
added more water from the kettle, more oil, and repeated the process on himself standing in
the kitchen. He poured the last remaining bits of water into the bowl, grabbed a small towel,
and after dipping it, came back to Jake’s side, wiping his body with one more sweep. Quinn
then rinsed himself, put everything down, and lay next to Jake.
There was a thunderous pounding in Jake’s chest, the intensity of Quinn’s gaze almost
overwhelming. They both remained silent, with Quinn gently caressing Jake’s cheek, and
running his fingers through his hair. Then he leant down and softly placed his lips on Jake’s,
lightly probing them open with his tongue.
This was the exact opposite of what they had shared the night before. That had been
hungry and out of control. By contrast this was sweet—and dare he say—loving. Quinn
increased the depth of the kiss, using his hands to explore Jake’s torso, reaching lower, and
lower. Quinn cupped Jake’s aching balls, and teased them with his thumb. He let go and
broke from Jake’s mouth to lick the palm of his own hand. Then he grabbed Jake’s cock and
pressed his lips against the detective’s neck—licking and love biting, and moving down his
torso until he reached Jake’s throbbing erection, still being held securely in Quinn’s fist.
Jake was swallowed up again by Quinn’s glorious mouth, a wonderful reminder of the
night before. But this time, the man savoured him, sucking and tonguing him as though he
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were the sweetest piece of candy. Quinn increased the pressure and intensity of his suckling,
and Jake didn’t think he’d be able to hold back much longer. He wanted to prolong this, but
Quinn had his face buried in Jake’s crotch, his head bobbing furiously as he took Jake’s cock
all the way in over and over, caressing Jake’s chest and teasing his pebbled nipples as he did.
“Quinn, I can’t hold back. Stop—I won’t be able to—aaaaaaah!”
His cum shot down Quinn’s throat before he could stop it, the orgasm so incredibly
satisfying. Jake’s dick continued to jerk in his lover’s mouth as Quinn gradually eased off.
“Oh my God, Quinn, that was sensational. Sorry I came so fast…”
“Shhh…remember, I’m taking care of you right now. I’ll get mine in a minute. “
Quinn scooted back up to Jake, and thrust his tongue into Jake’s mouth again. He could
taste himself, the intimacy stronger than he’d felt with anyone before. Quinn continued to
kiss and love him, kneading his shoulders and body, the man’s strength and love being
communicated to Jake by the use of his hands.
He broke contact, reaching over for another condom and the lube.
“I want to look into your eyes when I bury myself in you this time.”
Jake got a little hard from the way Quinn had said that, and a little harder when he
thought about how wonderful it was to feel Quinn’s dick filling his ass all the way to the hilt.
There wasn’t anything Jake wanted to feel more in that moment.
Slowly working two greased fingers into Jake’s hole, Quinn never stopped looking into
his eyes as he worked and stretched his rear entrance. After pulling out, he slipped on the
condom, and gradually pushed the head of his penis into Jake.
Jake thought he would go mad from the anticipation. Quinn was moving so incredibly
slowly, millimetre by millimetre, allowing Jake to feel every second of his lover’s intrusion,
Quinn never tearing his gaze away.
Finally seated all the way in Jake’s backside, he waited, kissing him some more. Then
he began a torturous pace of barely thrusting—almost all the way out, then all the way back
in. Over and over he continued to control his fucking in this way, until Jake’s breathing
increased and his dick became completely hard again. Quinn looked down at his lover’s erect
shaft, then looked back up and smiled, seeming quite satisfied with himself.
Quinn grabbed Jake’s cock, and used his skilful hand to stroke him, whilst increasing
the tempo of his thrusting up his ass. In unison their panting intensified, building and
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building, until there was the inevitable explosion of them coming together, Jake swearing he
saw stars as they both yelled out.
Feeling a bit dizzy, Jake lay there for a few minutes, trying to gather his wits. How
could he ever deny himself this man? He’d never before been in a position where he needed
to call his own actions into question. He’d always been a good boy—his nana made sure of
that. It was just something he’d always carried, and his parents had also reinforced it in all of
their children that you must always do the right thing.
But Quinn was right. There was something more between them, and despite the fact
that they shouldn’t be doing this right now, it didn’t change the reality of what they might be
to one another.
Shit. How am I going to get through this?
Jake felt Quinn’s lips on his. Then he spoke.
“Okay. I can let you go for a little while now until this whole thing gets taken care of
with the killer. Because I’m also not done getting justice for my friends, so we still have that
together.”
“That we do,” said Jake. “Most definitely.”
* * * *
Quinn watched as his detective drove off after one more deep, luscious kiss in the
driveway. The weirdest thing had come over him as he had watched Jake leave, the dirt from
the road kicking up behind his truck in big brown clouds. He had no desire to seek out
another man. That had absolutely never happened to him before, and it actually made him
feel a bit uneasy in his own skin. Since Quinn tended to operate from his soul and spirit, he
resisted trying to overthink things too much, and was willing to just go with it. He had the
impression that his dear detective might be more prone to dwelling too much on his
thoughts, and he honestly did feel bad for his part in contributing to Jake’s anxiety over their
coupling.
But he didn’t regret it, and he didn’t believe it was wrong. His philosophy still centred
on embracing life’s moments as they occurred, and not judging everything based on what he
considered arbitrary rules and regulations. He understood the need for order, but he also
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lived in the greys—not the black and white. Every situation warranted its own assessment.
Life wasn’t a one-size-fits-all type of experience.
Quinn went back inside and poured himself a second cup of tea. He’d managed to
convince his antsy lover to have one quick cup before he’d taken off, and Jake had admitted
to Quinn how much he’d loved the blend, and was a little surprised—and it seemed to
Quinn, impressed—that the herbs were from his own small garden, and that he’d put the
blend together himself. Jake had remarked that it gave him a nice sense of home.
Quinn resisted the urge to stuff down inside the feelings of warmth the moment had
evinced in him. It was time to stop doing that, maybe see if his best friend Richard—the one
who knew him better than anyone ever had—might be right about him always being alone.
He went back outside to enjoy the clear morning. He sat in front of his home in one of the
chairs that he’d tossed a cushion into and sipped some tea. A few minutes later, Richard
pulled up the driveway, kicking up more dust clouds.
Quinn looked at the sun, and guessed it must be close to nine o’clock—a little bit earlier
than he was used to seeing him, but not all that unusual. Quinn smiled to himself. He no
doubt wanted a full report on the sexy detective. He hadn’t completely missed the interested
expressions on Richard’s face the day before.
Richard parked his older SUV behind Quinn’s wagon and sauntered towards him, a
little grin forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Morning bro, don’t we look all satisfied with ourselves?”
“Rich. Some tea?”Quinn held up his mug.
“No bro, I don’t want tea, I want info,” he said, taking a seat next to Quinn.
“That so? Just what kind of info would that be?”
“You know what kind. How’s Detective Gutierrez?”
“He’s fine, Rich, mighty fine.”
Richard sat back and they both gazed up at the pristine blue sky with just the faintest
wisps of a few filmy white clouds. “I guess when you take my advice, you don’t waste any
time. Not to be a buzz-kill or anything, but isn’t he sort of off-limits being a cop and
everything?”
“Aah Richard, you and him both, I see. We’re behaving ourselves temporarily until this
whole case gets cleared up. That’s his wish, not mine.”
“Isn’t it a little late for that?”
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Quinn frowned at his friend. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get all hostile on me bro—it’s just that I saw his truck pulling out on the
highway when I was headed over here. I doubt he drove all the way to the rez early this
morning to say hello, and then turn around and leave. He was here all night I gather.”
Man, even way out here people are in my business.
But Richard wasn’t people, he was like his brother.
“Yeah, okay. After last night. And this morning. We’re behaving from now on.”
“Shit, Quinn, I can honestly say I’m shocked. Well, I hope it turns out well, I really do.
But for now—I’m going to change the subject. Unless Detective Gutierrez is demanding your
presence today to chase down murderers, I thought you could help me do some painting
down at the Youth Centre.”
Quinn smirked at Richard, but he admired how hard his friend worked for the
community.
“Very funny. No one’s demanding anything from me. I’m actually waiting for him to
call and verify that the station is cool with us setting up a sting at the Lo-Fi, but that’s it. If it’s
a go, I’ll probably head into town later, get some flyers printed up and get them handed out.
But I can go down there with you now.”
“The Lo-Fi? What’s that all about?”
Quinn explained about Jake’s theory that the murderer may have picked out potential
targets by going to Quinn’s shows and observing who he was close to.
“That seems like a good possibility. So are you sure you aren’t too busy?”
“No man, just let me grab a clean shirt, and I’ll follow you over. I’ve got my cell in case
he calls.”
Richard gave Quinn a knowing smile, and Quinn shook his head.
His friend had certainly been gunning for him to get into a relationship for a long time,
and while it was still too early to tell if that was what would happen with him and Jake, it
was definitely the closest Richard had ever seen him get.
Now, if only the station would give Jake the green light on the show, and they could
wrap this whole thing up before anyone else got hurt. Then Quinn would have Jake back in
his arms, and could figure out what was really going on between the two of them.
* * * *
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Jake was a nervous wreck for the long drive back into town. He’d managed to hit the
highway right when all of the other traffic had, and he was barely going to make the ten
o’clock briefing the Lieutenant had texted him about this morning. The text that was sent
right about the time he had been taking Quinn slow and easy up his ass.
Damn. Do not even go there.
Thankfully, he always carried an extra shirt and chones in a duffle bag in his truck. Not
so much because he was caught in a lot of these situations, but more if he got too sweaty out
in the field then could change into something dry.
He pulled into the lot at five minutes to, grabbed what he needed, and booked it inside
so he could change quickly. Hopefully before anyone noticed.
Shit. Maggie.
She marched towards him with a less than thrilled expression on her face.
“Hey, Mags!” he called out a little too enthusiastically, “I’ll be with you in a sec!”
Then he darted into the men’s room. One of the perks of having a female partner—no
unwelcome intrusions. But then he forgot who he was dealing with.
“You’re not going to avoid me today, Jake. We need to talk.”
Her voice was right outside the stall he was changing in.
“Seriously, Maggie, can’t a man have a moment’s privacy?”
“Why didn’t you text me back, huh?”
Jake cringed, even as he was frantically putting on a new shirt and underwear. He’d
seen her texts and had figured he’d get back to her when he arrived at Quinn’s to guard him.
Only he’d got just a little bit distracted.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie, I swear I was just about to text you, and then I…”
He burst out of the stall door with his things, tucking his navy polo in his pants,
heading to the sink to splash water on his face, running his fingers through his hair.
“Oh my God,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Did you just come from some guy’s…oh
shit! Oh no you didn’t! With him? Did you fuck our—?”
Jake slapped his hand over her mouth just as the door opened, and a confused young
male recruit walked in. All three of them froze and stared at each other, waiting to see who
would break the silence first. Jake gave Maggie a severe look, and slowly removed his hand
from her mouth.
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“Hi there,” said Jake in his most pleasant voice, “you must just be starting. Welcome!”
Jake looked over at Maggie who was still giving him the stink-eye. He elbowed her.
“Look, Maggie. New recruit.”
“Yeah. I can see. Good thing too based on the likelihood of the drastically shortened
careers of certain detectives around here.”
She brushed angrily past the poor new guy and banged out of the bathroom door.
The recruit still stood in silence, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“Well, have a good one. Gotta go check in with the lieutenant.”
Jake exited the bathroom with what he hoped was a certain degree of dignity. He did a
subtle pit sniff to make sure he wasn’t reeking in any way, but realised that the scented oils
Quinn had used earlier still lingered on him—hence Maggie’s little outburst. Of the two of
them, she truly was the sharpest at little details, and in truth, should’ve been the lead on their
current case. But then Quinn had happened.
Nothing I can fucking do about any of this now. Be calm. Just refer to your notes and you’ll be
fine.
He lightly tapped with his knuckles on the lieutenant’s office door, and heard the man
yell out for him to come in. He opened the door, feeling a regained sense of confidence, and
saw Maggie sitting on one of the chairs on the other side of Lieutenant Connors’ desk. He
stood, looking through a file, pulled something from it then walked to the file cabinet on the
other side of the shoebox shaped room that was probably only about three hundred square
feet in all. A large window with blinds at their backs looked out onto the hallway—opposite
his desk—but they were pulled down. Anything having to do with this particular case had
been kept very confidential. It was crucial that nothing got out so as not to risk any aspect of
the investigation.
Maggie glared at Jake, and narrowed her eyes.
Jeez. She wants my head on a platter. I am so screwed.
The lieutenant looked up from his filing, and gestured for Jake to sit. He took a sniff of
the air.
“It smells like a fucking new age shop in here—what the hell kinda perfume you
wearing, Sullivan?”
Maggie scowled even more at Jake. Connors then went back to his desk and sat down
after putting his papers away.
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“Okay, Gutierrez, whadya got? I’ve had the press crawling up my asshole ever since we
dragged that Indian in here. It’s been next to impossible to steer them away from him, and to
not let on that you were working with him. I hope none of them figured it out on their own.”
Fuckohfuckohfuckohfuck.
“Yeah, that would be terrible,” said Maggie.
Fortunately, her sarcasm wasn’t deep enough that the lieutenant caught on.
Jake cleared his throat loudly.
“Well, Lieutenant Connors, I feel I have a good grasp…” He cleared his throat again,
shaking his head. “I mean, what I’m trying to say…”
Connors slammed his hand on the desk.
“For Chrissakes, Gutierrez, please tell me you haven’t just been dicking around!”
Jake thought he might vomit. “Excuse me, sir?” he said shakily.
Suddenly Maggie was there for him.
“Actually, Lieutenant Connors, Detective Gutierrez had just been telling me about some
excellent ideas for the case, but he noted the time, and did not want to be late for our
meeting.”
That allowed him a chance to collect himself, and he remembered all of the things he’d
been planning on going over while driving in that morning, stuck in rush hour traffic.
“Thank you, Detective Sullivan,” he said, giving Maggie what he hoped was a
meaningful look. “In going over lists with the subject yesterday of possible victims, we
discussed a location that is on a business card found at the latest crime scene. Mr Verdugo
has performed at this location—the Lo-Fi Coffee House on Main Street—a few times, and can
recall one night in particular that had a large turnout that included both Cole Stillman our
informer, and our latest victim John Shepherd.
“I’ve surmised that there is the possibility that the killer could have used that type of an
event to target potential victims, and the thought is that if we stage a similar event as soon as
possible—placing undercover officers in the room—we might be able to flush the perp out.”
The lieutenant squeezed a little rubber tension ball in one hand, and tapped the desk
with the fingers of his other hand. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and he appeared
as though he were in the middle of formulating a complex physics problem. The silence
stretched out, and it felt as if everyone were holding their breaths.
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“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Seems very iffy to me. I thought you got a list of people
from him already.”
“Yes, sir, I did. But many of them he doesn’t know their last names or even what towns
they live in. Even his descriptions are pretty vague.”
“Either he’s withholding, or he’s the biggest man-whore west of the Rockies.”
This time it was Maggie who cleared her throat.
“Well…I’m not necessarily opposed to your idea—it’s certainly better than nothing,
which is what we’ve got a whole lot of at this point—but I can’t tie up a bunch of men on
something this sketchy. I’ll let you, Sullivan, and one other guy that you both agree on do
this thing. But get it set up within the week, and in the meantime, see if you can’t find some
of these potential victims before anyone else gets hurt. And I lose my job.”
With that, they were both dismissed, and Maggie stuck to Jake like glue as they headed
to their desks. Jake had the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to just drop the whole thing with
Quinn.
He was right.
“I want to know everything,” she whispered to him angrily over her desk that was
pushed up flush against his. “When did this shit start up? Huh? Did you guys do anything at
all yesterday except get into each other’s pants?”
“Fuck, Mags, keep it down.”
Jake looked around uneasily at the large room filled with other investigators working.
Many of the desks were occupied this early in the morning, and it seemed like this was the
last place they should be discussing the issue with Quinn.
Quinn. He loved the sound of the man’s name.
So far, no one seemed to have noticed, but he wasn’t taking any more chances. He’d
already thought he’d been busted about five different times this morning, and he wasn’t sure
his heart could handle any more. He stood up, certain Maggie would just follow him where
ever he went anyway.
Right again.
“Oh no, Gutierrez, you can’t get away from me this easy,” she said, marching on her
short little legs behind him.
He had to chuckle. He doubted he would ever meet anyone with such a singular
determination as this woman had, ever again in his life. He scurried through the automatic
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doors at the front of the building, and headed down the street where there was a little coffee
place a lot of the guys went to. At this time of the morning though, almost everyone was
already out in the field, in meetings or at their desks back at the station, so he hoped they
would have more privacy there.
He wasn’t prepared however to come face to face with Barry cranky pants, their
forensic specialist on the case.
“Oh look!” he announced when Jake opened the door to the dimly lit coffee joint. “How
nice that one of the detectives working on our most prolific case right now managed to show
up in town today. I’m sooooo honoured, as I’m sure your partner is. Me? I just stay up all
night trying to get the facts on your case all sorted out for you.”
Jesus, this guy.
“Does that mean you actually have some facts, Barry, or are you just testing the chemical
compounds of that coffee you’re stirring?”
Maggie joined in. “How’s your girlfriend ‘Clarice’? Has she taken over forensics yet?”
“So funny. Are you interested or not, you little twerps.”
Twerps?
Jake snickered. “Yes, Barry, listening to you is what we live for.”
Jake was a little surprised Maggie had stepped in with a jab of her own, he’d figured
she would have been too miffed at not being able to grill him about Quinn with this
unexpected interruption. But as usual, Barry had started it.
The three of them grabbed a table in the back, and as it was, there were only a couple of
lone patrons there anyway. Barry hefted his beat-up brown leather messenger bag onto the
table and began rifling through its contents. So much about him was very old school, but he
really was their finest investigator. He was just such a pain in the ass.
“Okay, kiddies, don’t wet yourselves, but I found something.”
Both Jake and Maggie sat up, excited.
“Oh yeah?” Jake asked. “What?”
Barry pulled what looked like a graph—with a group of small stubby lines in varying
patterns—from his bag of tricks.
“See this paper? This shows a DNA sample from a tiny swipe of blood near the hilt of
that large knife embedded in our victim’s mouth. I noticed it because there wasn’t one single
other drop or splash anywhere else except the copious amounts on the pillow pooled at the
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back of his neck—where the exit wound was—and the gush that was midway on the blade
and down. Now, it was entirely possible—more than that actually—that it was just a stray
drop that splashed up during the violence of the mortal wounding. However, because it was
the only one anywhere in the area, and looked more like a smear of blood than a spray, I
decided to sample it. Even with heavy gloves on, a knife of that size and sharpness could
have cut through leather, and nicked the palm of someone bearing down on it.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, holy shit. Good news—it’s not the victim’s. Here’s your bad news though. It
doesn’t match anything we have in our databases, or the national databases. That’s part of
the reason I was up all night. I kept hoping for a hit.”
Jake looked over at Maggie. She appeared less hostile towards him.
“That is great news, Barry, thanks man. Hopefully, this sting Maggie and I are planning
will—”
Jake’s cell phone went off, it was the lieutenant.
“Gutierrez—where the hell are you? The killer just turned himself in!”
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Chapter Ten
Jake paled. This was great news, but why? How?
He jumped up, almost knocking Barry’s coffee and mangled bag to the floor. “
Yo—slow down there, turbo—what’s your rush?”
“What is it, Jake?” said Maggie, worry etched on her face.
“They’ve got him. At the station. Oh my God.”
“Quinn? They’ve got Quinn?”
“I thought so,” said Barry. “The lieutenant told me he’s left-handed.”
No. He hadn’t thought of that at all. It couldn’t be. There was no way.
Right?
“Come on, we all have to head back to the station right now. The killer turned himself
in.”
Maggie gasped, and Jake pushed his chair back, holding his hand out to her, anxious to
pull her along with him.
“I don’t believe it,” muttered Barry. “I stay up all fucking night, and now this. Why
does the world hate me?”
They hurried back down the street, and had to fight their way past reporters already
sniffing out a breaking news story. Had the lieutenant already called for a press conference?
It seemed a bit hasty before the guy was even questioned.
Lieutenant Connors was down the hall outside the room that had been designated for
the investigation ever since it had become clear there would be more than the initial killing.
He frantically waved for them to come down. They followed him inside, then he shut the
door. Nobody was interested in sitting, it was all too nerve-racking. The lieutenant leaned
against the one large table, and held onto the edge with both hands.
“You guys need to be prepared for this one,” Connors began, “he’s a real doozy. I’m not
a hundred per cent sure he’s our guy. He’s been read his Mirandas, and we’ve taken some
basic info already. He does seem to fit our profile though, and it looks as though my strategy
for giving you two this case was absolutely the right move all along.”
Huh?
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“I don’t understand, sir,” interjected Jake. “What’s the deal with this guy anyway?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Gutierrez, but this one is a real hard-core queer, not
more normal like you.”
Jake felt his legs getting a little shaky, and there was a funny feeling in his stomach.
Barry looked uncomfortable—the first time Jake had ever seen him that way—and
Maggie piped in.
“I don’t see how that relates, sir.”
“Oh trust me, you will,” continued the Lieutenant, completely oblivious to anything
inappropriate he might be saying. “Wait ‘til you see the outfit this weirdo is wearing. I guess
there really are guys like you who dress like that out there. I’ve just never seen that before
though in my town.”
Jake did his best to hold it together. He had been agonising since he woke up over his
bad decision regarding Quinn because he respected the rules of his job. But did his job have
any respect for him?
I can deal with this. I just have to push through. I’m just doing my job that I love.
“Could you elaborate, sir, or can we question him?” Jake asked, doing his best to
remain steady.
“Actually, I just want you in there with him. He’ll connect with you better than a
woman. That’s why I assigned the two of you to this case originally anyway. Maggie has a
little more experience in Homicide, and you have what it takes to relate to this kind of guy.”
Jake took a deep breath, trying to be very careful about what he said next.
“I don’t relate to murderers, sir, but I am anxious to speak with the subject.”
Barry still had his head down, and seemed like he was trying to angle his way out of the
room completely.
“No one’s saying you relate to murderers—don’t get your garter in a twist. I just
needed to put the best possible duo on the case, who stood the best chance of being able to
get into the mind of someone like that.”
Someone like that.
“I see. Which room is he in?”
“He’s in D. We’ll be watching and taping on the other side of the glass as usual. Here’s
the paperwork on him.”
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Jake grabbed the file, then turned without another word. He stopped into the restroom
before making his way down to where the interrogation cells were. He needed to gather his
wits, and splash more water on his face. It had been bad enough when it had seemed as
though Maggie’s gender, and his brown skin had been the reason they had been assigned the
case, but this was even worse. The lieutenant had made it seem as though he were some sort
of freak. He hadn’t kidded himself it ever had anything to do with his amazing detective
skills, but still, this was completely uncalled for.
After looking at his reflection in the mirror, Quinn popped into his mind.
There was no way Quinn would have stood for any of what had just gone on in there.
For the first time since he’d originally thought about going into the academy, he was
questioning his decision to be an officer of the law. It had felt great to do something that
seemed as though it would make a difference in the community where he lived. But what
control did he have over anything? Currently, he felt more like a puppet of the law, than its
defender.
Puppet.
Didn’t Quinn say something like that to him the day before? It hardly seemed possible
it had only been a mere twenty-four hours, it felt more like a week ago. Jake took a deep
breath, and wiped his mind clean of any outside thoughts. Now was not the time to make
any drastic life-altering decisions. He needed to do the job he’d sworn to do, and that meant
facing whatever was behind the door in the interrogation room downstairs.
He made his way there, knowing that the others would already be in position behind
the two way glass. Opening the door, he was greeted by the suspect’s almost serene
expression as he sat quietly in his chair facing the door, hands folded politely in his lap.
There was a small table in the room, but it had been set aside. Another chair was carefully
positioned behind the table, and tucked all the way in. Jake had the impression the guy had
been setting the scene somehow.
“Hello, detective,” the young, slight man said in a soft tone.
This isn’t our guy. I know it isn’t.
The man sitting calmly in the chair was dressed in full leather bondage gear, and had
the androgynous body and look that was very popular in the scene currently. He had thin,
light, almost platinum hair in a carefully groomed layered cut. His eyes were a very pale
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blue, and his skin a pale white. He couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds.
There was no way.
Jake kept his poker face on, and proceeded to do his job.
“So I hear you’ve been brutally killing some unfortunate men in the area these last
couple months.”
“Yes, officer, I’ve been very bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“It certainly seems that way. You understand we’re going to need you to recount every
detail of the deaths, for the record. You don’t have a problem with that, right?”
“No. Not at all.”
Jake took his time going over to the carefully placed table and chair. Deliberately, he
dragged the chair over near to the man, allowing it to scrape across the floor. Next, he did the
same thing with the heavier table, all four legs making an even more unpleasant sound as
they grated against the old concrete floor, leaving long scratch marks. It had the desired
effect, appearing to unnerve the subject slightly. He twisted his hands together, and couldn’t
take his eyes off the ground where Jake had made the marks.
One thing Jake was skilled in, and that was psychology. He had taken several courses in
college, and some special elective ones after he’d joined the force. By observing a scene
carefully, he had learnt that one could pick up indicators about a person’s psyche. The
lieutenant would be disappointed to discover that the clues Jake was picking up on had
nothing to do with the man’s attire or sexual preferences, but rather how he’d arranged the
scene and himself so neatly before anyone arrived. If Jake had to make a quick guess about
this guy, he would say he was likely to be very obsessive-compulsive about himself and his
surroundings, and what Jake had just done had probably rocked the guy’s world in a bad
way.
He could see beads of sweat beginning to form on the man’s forehead in addition to the
hand-wringing. If Jake applied just the right pressure, he could probably wrap-up with this
sad-looking man quickly. He couldn’t help but wonder what his life had been like, and what
had driven him to be where he was sitting right now. All Jake would ever be able to do for
him was to get him out of this room, but then what? What sort of life would he have to return
to?
Jake continued.
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“Tell me about your first victim, uh, Jason is it?” Jake peeked in the folder he had before
him.
“Yes. And should I call you officer, or sir?”
The kid, as he now appeared to Jake, looked so fragile. Did the lieutenant, or anyone
else for that matter, honestly believe he could have taken on any of the much larger, stronger
men that had been killed?
“You can call me Jake.”
“Oh. Jake. I like that name.” He tried smiling a little, but seemed so unsure of himself.
“Your first victim, Jason? Did you put him in the cage before or after you strangled
him?”
“Oh, well, let’s see…I did it after. I was trying to show that we’re all in a cage. It was all
part of the symbolism of the act.”
“Interesting. Did you have any help, or did you do all of this on your own?”
“On my own. I did everything by myself, to make a statement.”
“I see. And you work out a lot? You know, with weights?”
The effeminate suspect tittered behind his hands. “Oh my no. Muscles are gross.”
“And you weigh how much exactly?”
“Why I just weighed myself this morning, and I’m very proud to say that I’m not one
pound over one hundred and fifteen.”
“Well good for you. Now let me make sure I have my facts straight. You strangled…uh,
bare hands or with some instrument?”
“Oh bare hands, yes, I did it all myself.”
“All right, you strangled a muscular two hundred and twenty pound man with your
bare hands, and then dragged him—all by yourself—into a cage. Correct?”
Jason looked around the room, twisting his hands more furiously, confusion etched on
his face.
“Yes. I think so.”
“You think so, or you’re sure?”
He sat up straighter. “I’m sure. I’m absolutely sure.”
“Hmmm. That’s very odd.”
“Why? What’s odd?”
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“Because the first victim wasn’t strangled, and there was no cage. Jason, I know you’re
lying to me, and I don’t like it when people waste my time. Especially when there is a very
evil man killing innocent men out there that I should be spending my time catching. Now, I
think you’re a very nice, but confused young man, so I expect you to take back your
confession immediately, do you understand?”
Jason bowed his head. Jake detected one small tear fall on top of the young man’s
nervous hands.
He looked back up at him with watery eyes. “I’m sorry, Jake. Please don’t be mad at
me.”
“I’m not, Jason. But will you go and recant your confession for me now?”
“Yes, Jake, I will.”
Jake patted the kid on the shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring smile before
leaving. Jake didn’t even bother going into the observation booth, he was just seething and
didn’t trust himself with the lieutenant. Unfortunately, they all hurried after him.
“Hey! Gutierrez—wait up!”
Dammit.
He turned around and faced Connors. Maggie and Barry were behind him, pleading
with their eyes for him to chill.
Connors spoke. “Great job tearing that kid apart, Gutierrez, but damn, I thought he
really was the one, too bad.”
Jake felt like he was going to burst.
“Seriously? You seriously thought that sad little kid in there brutally tied up and
murdered three men? Are you crazy?”
Maggie had her hands over her eyes like she couldn’t watch, and Barry was making a
slicing motion across his throat.
“You just watch your smart mouth, detective. I will not tolerate any insubordination
from my team. Now if you think you’re so goddamned smart and know every fucking thing
there is to know about murder suspects with all of your vast years of experience, then
fucking go out there and get him. And I don’t want to see your fucking face, or hear your
fucking voice until you do!”
Connors stomped off, his face beet-red, looking as though he wanted to kick the nearest
dog. Jake was sure the entire station, and possibly half of Mesa had just heard that tirade.
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Barry stepped forward. “It’s been nice knowing you, Gutierrez. Well, sort of. If you
need me, you know where to find me. I’ll be hiding in the safety of my lab, not calling my
boss crazy.” He made a sweeping bow, and headed towards the elevator.
“For the love of all that is holy, what is the matter with you?” Maggie stared at him with
pure exasperation. “Have you been possessed by the pod people? I feel like I don’t even
know you!”
“If I were one of the pod people, I wouldn’t give a shit—just like Connors. Look,
Maggie, come to lunch with me, somewhere away from here, and I’ll tell you about
everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything—I swear. You are still my best friend in the whole world. But then, we are
going to set up the greatest sting operation we possibly can, and get this fucker once and for
all.”
“Good. That sounds more like my Jake. Let’s do this thing.”
* * * *
It had been five days since Jake had spilled everything to Maggie. He’d started with the
meeting at the Lo-Fi and the interviews with Richard and Cole. Then he’d had to admit what
Maggie already knew, that he’d been with Quinn. He knew she didn’t fully understand why
he couldn’t control himself, but she still had his back, and had no intention of giving his
secret away. But she’d also warned him that she wouldn’t support any more screwing
around with Quinn until the whole case had been resolved. Jake knew deep down she was
right.
She asked him about the blow-up at the station, but he didn’t think he was ready to talk
about that yet. He really wanted to talk to Quinn about it, but other than a quick
conversation—in Maggie’s presence—to say that the show was a go, he’d stayed away from
him. He texted Quinn to let him know that he couldn’t trust himself around him, and that the
best he’d be able to do until the night of the show was to text him. He sensed the man who
had fulfilled him more than he’d ever been fulfilled was a little pissed off—which tore at his
heart—but it was how it had to be for the moment.
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It was Sunday, and he was spending it with his familia, as he often did on that day. He
was sitting in the living room of his childhood home, trying to enjoy the two nieces and a
nephew who belonged to his oldest sister. They were two, four and five years old, the boy
being the youngest. Gabriel was running around in circles, making himself dizzy on purpose,
then falling, Jake there to catch him so he wouldn’t hurt himself.
That is what I would like to be able to do. Catch people so that they don’t hurt themselves. Like
that kid in the interrogation room. Jason. Where is he now?
“Unca Jay, Unca Jay, I’m falling too!” Valerie, the four-year-old, didn’t want to be left
out. Then Gabriel got jealous, and began pushing her and Rosita. She began crying, so
Valerie hugged her and kissed her cheek. The next thing he knew, Jake was holding all three
of them on his lap. He wasn’t having much success, as all three were vying to be the most
important one, and kept knocking each other on the ground. Jake would say “Oops!” so that
they hopefully wouldn’t cry. They finally decided that was an even better game, and fell to
the ground on purpose yelling “Oops!” just like Jake had done, and laughing hysterically.
His tiny nana, not even five feet, marched into the room, hands on her hips.
“Vete a fuera—ahora mismo!” she yelled, pointing to the back door.
The kids ran screaming from the room. It was the exact same thing she had yelled at
him and his two sisters and two brothers when they’d been little—‘go outside—right now’.
He liked the familiarity of being home, and it was interesting to watch little Valerie, try to
work things out between the oldest and the youngest. Jake was in the middle of all of his
siblings too, so in one of his psychology classes he’d learnt that it meant that he tended to be
the mediator of the bunch. He could see it.
His nana looked at him funny, scrunching her brow.
“What’s the matter my little mijo, why you so sad?”
“I’m not sad, Nana, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Is it that killer man, or maybe a lover man?”
Jake laughed. “Come on Nana, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Aah. Boys. They think they know best.” She made a swiping gesture with her hand.
“What you should do is go with lover man, and be happy. Be familia. Don’t think so much
about everything, you make yourself loco in the head.” She jabbed at her head as if the crazy
was something that could be pointed at.
“Okay, Nana, I’ll try.”
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She grabbed the top of his head, gave him a big sloppy kiss there then headed back to
her territory—the kitchen.
A family. It seemed like such an impossible dream. But he would love that someday.
Inevitably, his thoughts drifted to Quinn. He couldn’t picture the man living a peaceful
family life, he was such a loner. They probably weren’t a very good long term match for that
very reason. His heart was very heavy at the thought. He had been really falling for the guy.
And as a sexual match—they were perfect for one another.
* * * *
The days had seemed to just drag on and on, leaving Quinn restless and jittery. He was
still really horny from all of the amazing sex—and spirit bond—he’d shared with Jake, and
was pretty fucking pissed that his lover was being so adamant that they stay away from each
other, even to the point of not talking on the phone. Jake still sent him good morning and
good night texts, but they were short and sweet, rather than hot and sizzling. It sucked that
he couldn’t even get some decent sexting out of the whole arrangement.
But it had left him plenty of time to ponder his situation with the man. He wasn’t big on
dwelling in thought, so he’d been trying to stay busy helping Richard fix up the Youth
Centre in Blackwater. It had become run down in the last few years, and there just hadn’t
been as much help as there once had been. What Richard was really hoping to do was to set
up a non-profit charter, and get things run properly so that they could raise funding for after-
school and summer camp programs for the at-risk youth in the area. Currently, there was
just a ragged basketball court—not much fun in the scorching heat—a beat-up ping-pong
table and board games with missing pieces inside. Even the old outdated swamp cooler
barely kept the place at a tolerable temperature. The building had been donated by a private
party, but they weren’t willing to fund any programs, equipment or improvements.
“So what’s up with that detective?”
Richard and Quinn were sitting on the ground and leaning against the shady side of the
building, drinking a pop whilst taking a rest from the morning’s painting project. Quinn had
got carried away, and had found himself motivated to begin a desert landscape mural on one
of the inside walls, that included symbols and deities belonging to his ancestors. The whole
project had begun spontaneously, and he had just gone with it like he did most things. It was
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helping to calm the raging turmoil beneath his surface—the desire inside him that he knew
was a result of needing to be with Jake.
He would never admit it to Richard, and he wasn’t comfortable admitting it to himself,
but the strength of his need for Jake frightened him. He still couldn’t tell what it meant in the
long term, he just wished that Jake was around to help him figure it out.
Quinn took a long swig of his drink.
“Nothing. Not now. We’re just waiting for this whole show on Tuesday night, and
maybe we’ll find the killer, maybe we won’t.”
“Wow. You seem a little nonchalant about the whole thing. I find it hard to believe that
was just a one-night stand for you guys—you never bring anyone back to the rez.”
“What are you now, my mother?”
Quinn got up then tossed his empty bottle into the recycle bin. He was sorry for
snapping at Richard, but also knew his long-time friend was used to his quick bursts of
temper. Richard was the only one who could get away with teasing him about his sudden
mood shifts, and usually shrugged it off.
“All right, lonely boy, be all defensive about everything. That’s always worked out well
for you in the past.”
“Fuck you, Richard.”
“Sure—whatever it takes to make you happy.”
Richard calmly went back indoors, no doubt to pick up a brush to continue painting the
other three walls in the centre. Good, kind and concerned Richard.
Whiny, selfish me.
Quinn went inside too, walked past Richard and said, “Sorry.”
“I know bro, I know.”
Two more days, that was all he was going to wait. Then he was going to see that
detective, and tell him that they needed to work this thing out. Together.
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Chapter Eleven
It was the big day, which is exactly what Jake had texted to Quinn that morning. Quinn
hadn’t texted back right away like he usually did, and it made Jake nervous for some reason.
He texted, ‘anything wrong?’, but still didn’t hear back. Now his stomach really churned, and
he still had to meet up with Maggie and Nelson—the guy they had picked to be their
undercover guy in the audience. They were going to have a final run-through of descriptions
and photographs of men that Quinn had seen hanging around at his shows in the past. The
three of them had casually dropped in as customers the week before, so it wouldn’t seem like
they appeared out of the blue. They made sure to pick up one Quinn’s show flyers while they
were there. It also afforded them the chance to check out all of the exits, and get an idea of
the layout of the place.
Jake was planning on wearing a bright, slim-fitting red with black pinstripes dress shirt
that night, open at the collar. He had a pair of sleek black dress pants, and his only pair of
nice dress shoes—tasselled loafers. He felt like he was dressing for a date, and it frustrated
him.
He had been soul-searching the whole week, and while he didn’t think he’d be able to
completely stay away from Quinn physically, he didn’t think the stunning man was the long-
term guy he had been wishing for, and that hurt. It hurt because he knew he felt something
more for him than just lust.
But we can’t build a life on just feelings, right?
What also tore at him was the idea that maybe his whole detective career might not be
the long-term gig he had thought it would be. Something about the whole past week had
messed with his head. Being with Quinn, seeing the lieutenant’s true colours, it all seemed to
dare him to confront the reality he had chosen for himself, and to face whether it was what
was truly meant for him. And since he now believed that Quinn wasn’t his dream partner, he
felt very alone, and without anyone to talk to. As close as he was to Maggie, she lived and
breathed the force, didn’t know Quinn at all and any advice she offered—whilst well-
intentioned—would be influenced by her own ideals.
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Jake grabbed the keys to his truck to head downtown for his final meeting before the
show. As he reached for his cell, it buzzed, alerting him to a message. He looked at the
screen, and his heart leapt to see that it was from Quinn.
It simply read, ‘See you 2nite’.
That was it—no acknowledgement of him asking if anything was wrong. Maybe Quinn
was over him, and just wanted to get this show thing over with, this being his way of
winding things down and pulling back. Jake struggled with whether he should respond or
not. Should he be short and just reply ‘ok’? Or maybe not reply at all? Press him for more?
Not able to decide what to do, he did nothing. God he hated texting personal shit—it
was so hard to figure out where the other person was coming from. Now that he was cranky,
he slammed out the door and got into his truck. Once he was on his way, it was easier to
focus on the real reason for the show that night. In truth, he was nervous that the lieutenant
would be right, and that the whole thing would be a big waste, nothing being gained from it.
That would suck.
* * * *
They were all gathered in the same coffee place that Maggie, Jake and Barry had been at
the week before. Maggie and Nelson excitedly discussed different strategies, while Jake’s
mind wandered to what Quinn might be doing. There was a silence, and Jake looked up from
his vanilla latte to see both of his co-workers frowning at him.
“Jake,” said Maggie, not even attempting to hide her irritation, “would it be all right
with you if we all participated in trying to catch this killer?”
“Sorry, Mags,” he said somewhat sheepishly.
“As I was saying,” she said with a telling glance at him, “I’ll be in the middle of the
crowd, observing closely. Jake, you said to us when we visited Lo-Fi that Quinn had told you
the tables were usually set up a bit differently when there was a show. Could you elaborate
on that for us again? I want us to get there early enough so that we can pick the perfect spot.”
God, she’s so confident and ready for this.
“Sure. They almost do a mini amphitheatre like set up. Not raised, but everything in
more of a semi-circle.” Jake drew what he meant on his notepad. “Not like the rows and
aisles that were there when we went.”
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“Right,” said Maggie, “so I want to be here in the middle.” She indicated where she
meant.
“Is the management in on this in any way?” asked Nelson.
“No,” replied Jake. “For all we know it might be someone working there. We couldn’t
take any chances. However, we’re all pretending to be a part of Quinn’s team—his publicist,
Maggie, and then you and I are his agent and publisher.”
“When was that decided?” Nelson seemed a little miffed.
“Sorry, but Maggie and I were thinking last night that we would want to be able to talk
to Quinn, maybe go backstage and other non-access areas to the public. It would hobble us if
we were just random members of the public.”
“Yeah, that seems right.”
Nelson was thirtyish, and had been working undercover for almost five years. Both Jake
and Maggie had agreed the man was an excellent choice for their operation—experienced,
but young enough that he looked as though he belonged in the art and poetry crowd that
Quinn attracted.
After determining that Nelson would hang out near the front door, and Jake would be
near the hallway leading to the restrooms and the back exit, they wrapped it up.
“I’m getting there at six thirty,” announced Maggie as she stood up to leave. “Are you
going to ride with me Jake?”
She gave him a pointed look, and he was pretty sure she had it in her head that there
had been some sort of private agreement between him and Quinn about going to the show
together. After all, if he was supposed to be his agent, it would make sense.
Hmmm. No—I’d better not. Should I?
“That reminds me. I should give Quinn a call and make sure he’s up on our plan to all
be a part of his team.”
Maggie’s lips were pursed, and he could tell she was trying to control herself in front of
Nelson.
“I thought you were supposed to text him those details earlier.”
“Right. I forgot.”
After getting so worked up about feeling dismissed by him this morning, that is.
“Well, why don’t you call him now while we’re all here so that we can know what to
expect.”
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Jake could tell Nelson was starting to get a little confused.
“Uh…sure. Good idea.”
Maggie and Nelson slid back into their seats and looked at Jake, apparently waiting for
him to make his move and call Quinn.
Trying not tremble, Jake dialled Quinn’s number. It would be the first time in a week
he’d heard his lover’s voice, and it had to be with his two co-workers staring at him.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, detective?”
Jake could hear the faint mocking tone in Quinn’s voice. And the timbre of promise.
“Hi, Quinn.”
He tried to sound professional, without coming across indifferent. This really sucked
having other people listening in. He had to make sure Quinn understood. “I’m here with
Maggie and the undercover cop assigned to your show tonight, and we wanted to make sure
you knew how things were going to be played out.”
“Oh I get it,” said Quinn. “This isn’t a social call. I guess that was too much to hope
for.”
Jake tried not to outwardly cringe, but as was typical, couldn’t stop himself from
clearing his throat. He forced himself to continue, his heart breaking, and wishing he could
just let go and say anything to his lover.
“So, Maggie is going to be there as your publicist, I’ll be your literary agent and
Nelson—he’s our undercover man—will be your publisher.”
Quinn chuckled. “I see you guys have it all figured out. Well, I think my agent should
escort me to the show. After all, I have some things that we need to discuss before we arrive,
and we hardly ever get a chance to speak anymore. What with him being so busy and all.”
Jake slapped his hand to his forehead. On the one hand, his heart was doing the happy
dance at the prospect of getting to see Quinn alone. On the other, he knew Maggie would
fillet him, and possibly leave him to rot in the desert if he even suggested this.
“Well? I can’t hear you. Oh and I just remembered—my car’s broken down too. I might
not be able to get there at all if my agent doesn’t pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay, hold on.”
Jake put the phone down and took a deep breath. “He said that he needs a ride for
tonight.”
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Nelson frowned. “I’d do it, but I have an appointment with the DA at four, and I’ll be
pushing it to get home and changed as it is. It would have to be one of you two.”
Thank God Nelson is completely oblivious.
“Actually, he’s requested that I go and get him.”
Jake could tell Maggie was steaming. Her face was flushed, and she glared at him.
“Oh really? He did, did he? And what did you tell him, detective?”
Jake was starting to get pissed off now too. Everyone was acting like he was a fucking
two-year old lately.
“You’ve heard everything I’ve said,” Jake snapped back.
“Whoa,” said Nelson, obviously having no clue as to what was going on. “If it’s going
to be that big of a hassle, I could see if the DA can see me a little earlier or something.”
Jake turned to Nelson, just wanting to get him out of the conversation completely.
“It’s fine, officer. Detective Sullivan and I have this, you can carry on.”
“Okay then. See you tonight.”
Nelson looked a little unsure, but was smart enough to know when it was time to leave.
After he was out of earshot, Jake turned back to Maggie.
“You’re bossy, you know that?”
“You’re an idiot, do you know that?”
“Maybe. But I’m also a grown-ass man, and I’ll deal with this my way. I’ll see you
tonight no later than seven. Will that be acceptable?”
“Fine.”
She grabbed her things and stomped off. He watched her go and looked to see if Quinn
had bothered to even stay on the line anymore.
“Okay, I’m back.”
“I see your keeper is not very happy with you right now.”
“Quinn, please, it’s been a long week.”
“Tell me about it. But it’s good to know that you still have your cojones intact. I would
miss them otherwise.”
Jake sighed. How had he ever got himself to this place? Everything had seemed so set
and just the way he’d planned a little over a week ago.
“You know, I do have a life already that involves responsibilities to other people,
people I care about.”
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“And I don’t?”
“I’m not saying anything about you or your life right now. I’m just talking about me,
and asking for a little understanding. You hit me like a truck. I have no idea what any of it
means or what to do about you.”
“What do you want to do?” Quinn’s voice was softer, sexier. Welcoming.
Jake groaned. “I want to fall into your arms, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll just fade
completely away.”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to say something like that. Something so…revealing.
“Oh, babe,” soothed Quinn. “Come over. Let’s start today trying to figure it out
together. Don’t stop yourself from embracing what you want in life. Let it be.”
Could it be that easy?
“I don’t think I’m using my best judgement right now concerning you. Or anything
else. There are a lot of things that have been eating at me—not just us—but other stuff too.
I’ve wanted to talk to you, but, Maggie, my boss, the job—it’s been a totally fucked up
week.”
“Come to me. Let me hold you. We can talk, or say nothing. Whatever you want. Let
me be there for you like I want to be.”
Jake’s resolve completely crumbled.
“Okay. I just need to grab what I’m going to wear tonight.”
“I can’t wait, I really can’t.”
Jake clicked off the phone and a lightness filled his soul that hadn’t been there all week.
He still resisted Quinn’s pull on him, still feared that there was no real future for them, but at
least he would have the man’s comfort for now.
Quinn hung up his phone, and went back inside the centre.
“Rich, I’m gonna take off for today.”
“Are you nervous about tonight?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t think anything much is going to come of it. Plus, I’ll be doing a lot of the same
poems I’ve done in the past. Well—except one. But anyway, Jake’s headed over in a little
while.”
Quinn paused to gauge Richard’s reaction.
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“Really? That’s awesome bro! It is awesome isn’t it?”
Quinn smiled. “Yeah, it just might be.”
“Well get the hell out of here then, dude. I’ll see you tonight at the show.”
“I told you, you don’t have to come.”
Richard furrowed his brow. “Don’t you want me there?”
“It’s not that. Part of me still thinks there’s a possibility that psycho might be there, and
well, I wouldn’t want for him to fixate on you.”
“Impossible. Richard huffed. “It could never happen. I’ll see you later.”
Quinn nodded. “Okay, but be careful. I’ll see you tonight.”
Quinn jumped in his car and hurried to get back to his place. He’d been in a bit of a
mood this week, and the place could use some straightening up. And even though it was just
a little after one o’clock, the few hours he’d put in already at the centre had him reeking. It
wasn’t quite October yet, and the heat was still relentless.
An hour had gone by, and while Quinn had been getting ready for Jake’s arrival, he had
also been mulling over what he felt he should say—and not say—when Jake got there. They
had really only had that one day the previous week, and of course, that glorious night and
next morning together. It all still came down to—now what? It was honestly the first time
since Joe back in High School that Quinn had wanted to picture a life with another man. The
casual sex he had consigned himself to for the last decade had seemed the best way to go.
Now he wasn’t so sure about that, and it was seriously fucking with him.
Then there was the apparent dilemma Jake was in—it made Quinn nervous—a state he
never wanted to be in.
Maybe that’s why I avoid closeness?
Because he did believe he could give himself over to Jake, finally take a chance after all
of these years. But what would it be like to have the man he wanted run away from him?
Quinn looked out the window at the sound of a vehicle, and saw that Jake was headed up his
driveway.
This is it.
Because he relied so much on his instinct and feelings, Quinn was certain his spirit
would tell him the moment he saw Jake if the man was for him, if it hadn’t just been some
sort of lust-driven fantasy. He went outside to wait. Jake pulled to a stop, and it seemed as
though he were purposely avoiding looking directly Quinn’s way. He dropped from his
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truck and headed towards him. Quinn felt a surge in his chest. It was not just sex. This was
his man, he was more than maybe. The poem he had been driven to write the night before
told it all. It told the truth. But would the truth be the same for Jake?
Jake was a wreck. The whole way driving to Quinn’s he’d been terrified he was doing
the wrong thing, but couldn’t prevent himself from going to his own doom. It was so
perplexing. How could having such strong feelings for someone seem like such a horrible
thing? Was it because of Maggie? Guilt? Was it his inner self warning him to stay away from
Quinn? After all, he’d already logically concluded that the man was a bad match in the long
run. There were too many differences, especially when it came to families and commitments.
Quinn knew nothing of the importance of family ties, and probably would have recoiled in
horror at the crazy scene at his parent’s home with all of the kids running around.
Whatever. Maybe he could get the guy out of his system, then just move on. He was
pretty sure that’s what Quinn wanted anyway, to go back to his reclusive existence out here
in the desert, away from everyone.
As he’d got closer, Jake had almost been to the point of panic. Conflicting thoughts had
run through his head.
This is insane. I’ve never been this way. I’ve faced down gang members with guns pointed at me
without blinking, and some hot guy I barely know has me all tied up inside and freaking out.
He had spotted Quinn in the distance, standing, waiting for him. His heart had done
this funny flip-flop thing it had never done before.
Great. I’m probably having a heart-attack or something, he’d thought.
Trying to avert his gaze as he’d got closer, he had been able to admit to himself that he
was actually terrified by what sort of reception he’d receive from Quinn. He wondered if he
would be able to control himself, and not just fall into the arms of his lover. He’d parked,
then reached over to get his duffle from the passenger seat that held most of his clothes for
that night. His shirt was nicely pressed and hanging in a plastic cover, so he’d grabbed that
as well. Maybe with his hands full, he wouldn’t have the urge to seize and hold on to Quinn.
It’s go time.
He kept his head down as he approached the man he hadn’t been able to stop thinking
about all week, and waited until he stood right in front of him. Quinn had been silent the
entire time. Taking a deep breath, he raised his head. He was met with the sight of Quinn’s
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exquisite almond-shaped brown eyes. The ones Jake knew it would be so easy to lose himself
in.
“Let me help you.”
Quinn extended a hand, indicating Jake’s duffle. He handed it to him. Then Quinn
turned around, and Jake mutely followed him inside. It smelt very much the way he
remembered it from their morning of lovemaking. Fragrant and earthy, just like Quinn. He
could almost see himself being at home here. His heart was racing, and he was alarmed to
see that his hands were shaking a little.
Stop it.
Their conversation over the phone had been so emotional and immediate. Now there
was something preventing Jake—and it seemed Quinn as well—from acting on it. After
Quinn put Jake’s duffle down by the settee, he gestured for him to sit.
“Relax, detective. You look like a scared rabbit. I have some tea brewing—a new blend
I’m trying.”
Jake bristled a little at the rabbit remark, but he couldn’t deny that that was probably
how he was coming off. Jake watched Quinn pour the tea, and noted that nothing seemed to
have changed with the eagle painting he had seen from the week before. What had Quinn
been doing all week? Suddenly, he was very curious about the mundane daily things this
man did. The things that made him a complete human being, and not just a sexual enigma.
“The painting hasn’t changed.”
Quinn looked a little taken aback at Jake’s comment. He handed him a mug of tea, and
took his own, sitting cross-legged on the floor, almost at Jake’s feet.
“You can tell?”
“Well, yeah. It’s pretty obvious. How come?”
He shrugged. “It just wasn’t speaking to me. I’m surprised you remember it that well,
or looked at it that closely.”
“I was—I am—really impressed. I like it a lot. I figured you would have still been
working on it. Maybe it’s done, and that’s why you stopped.”
“That’s a very insightful thing for you to say, detective. Now I’m impressed.”
Jake wasn’t sure whether he was being complimentary or sarcastic. He was still trying
to figure out the man’s rhythms, and be aware of what triggered his little outbursts of
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temper. He was like an investigator’s dream in a twisted sort of way. Jake would enjoy it
more if his heart wasn’t on the line.
Jake was about to clear his throat, but took a breath instead, stopping himself. “What
has been speaking to you?”
This time he allowed himself to look right into Quinn’s eyes, instead of avoiding them
the way he had been doing since coming inside. He was here. They had hours before the
show. It didn’t seem likely Quinn had asked him to his home to try his new tea blend over
the course of the afternoon.
“You.”
The word hung in the air between them.
What does that mean?
“Can you…elaborate?”
“You haven’t tried your tea.”
That jarred Jake a little. Frowning, he blew on the hot liquid, and took a sip. There were
several flavours, familiar, yet mixed together. He noticed one that was the most prevalent.
“You grow vanilla now?”
“No, hardly. I had to get it from one of my organic suppliers. But I like the mixture, the
variety of everything blended together. By themselves they can be a little boring. Combined,
they’re quite enjoyable.”
Whoa.
“I see. Are we still talking about maybes? Or, has it gone past that point.”
“I can only speak for myself, detective. I haven’t had anyone to share this with over the
last week. I’ve had to work it out on my own. But I can see past maybe.”
Jake gulped. He knew that it wasn’t fair to lead Quinn on, but he was still so uncertain.
It felt incredibly right being there with him—if he took all of his other considerations away—
but in the past, he had always had things carefully planned out before he made any
decisions. This was anything but that.
“I’m…confused.”
“By what?”
“I want you, Quinn, oh my God, you have no idea how much, but I…”
“Stop. You’re going to tell me about your job, your life, all of those things you said on
the phone before you came over here. And I will always listen to anything you have to say. If
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it’s important to you, it’s important to me. But right now, just feel me. Feel us together, in
your heart. You think way too much, my sweet detective, and I plan on being more than a
thought. I want to live inside your soul.”
It seemed that the air was becoming too thick for him to breathe. Quinn’s words were as
overwhelming as the man himself was. This was not fixing anything. He could see that
trying to figure out what was happening with Quinn would not be presented to him in a neat
and tidy package the afternoon before the show. It was going to be messy and frustrating and
glorious and surprising, and many other things that Jake just didn’t know if he had the
strength to deal with at this point in his life. But if he could just live in the moment, he
wanted to experience the essence that was Quinn at least one more time. Right now.
“I don’t know what to say.” Jake saw Quinn’s face fall. “You deserve a better response,
but that’s all I’ve got right now. But I do want you to hold me. I do want to feel you with me,
inside me again.”
Quinn said nothing more, placing his mug on the ground, and crawling on his knees
towards Jake. He put his mug down too, and watched as Quinn edged up between his legs,
and ran his hands up Jake’s thighs, continuing up his chest then pulling Jake’s head down so
that he could thrust his tongue into his mouth.
The kiss wasn’t as raw as their first one the week before, but it was insistent and filled
with aching need. Quinn moaned as he moved his mouth over Jake’s, clutching Jake’s curls.
Jake wrapped his arms around him, and gave himself completely over to Quinn.
Abruptly, Quinn broke the kiss, stood and offered his hand to Jake. Silently, Jake
accepted, and allowed himself to be led over to the mattress, covered only in a sheet as it had
been the week before, allowing them uninterrupted space to explore one another. It was an
intoxicating moment, and Jake realised just how much he’d been missing this man’s touch
and even more, the vulnerability that came over him when Quinn claimed his ass.
Quinn lightly pushed Jake, and he fell back on the mattress. He couldn’t believe how
serious the man looked, but he didn’t question it. He was trying to take his lover’s advice and
just let it be. Quinn undressed slowly, never taking his eyes off Jake, the need that had been
building up in Jake all week undeniable, his cock surging to life as he gazed at the beauty
that was Quinn.
When he was completely nude, he got down on his knees again, and crawled towards
Jake, a feral beast, hunger in his eyes. Jake began to unbutton the top of his shirt, but Quinn
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grabbed his wrist, yanking it and his other wrist above Jake’s head. He imprisoned both of
them with one hand, and straddled Jake. Then he leant down to kiss him possessively, and
undid Jake’s shirt whilst he did. Quinn sat up again, and yanked the shirt to the side. Jake
hadn’t bothered with a tank, and Quinn took advantage of that by nipping one of Jake’s dark,
pebbled nipples.
He jerked at the unexpected sharp pain, and felt Quinn smiling against his chest as he
soothed it with his warm soft tongue. Over Quinn’s shoulder, Jake could see his lover’s
magnificent ass gyrating in the air as he gave every ounce of his being over to pleasing him.
Quinn moved to his other nipple and did the same thing. He continued love-biting, licking
and kissing his away all about Jake’s throat, chest and torso, keeping his wrists prisoner until
Jake thought he would go completely mad with desire.
Finally he let go, but Jake left his hands above his head. No one had done that to him
before, and it was kind of hot. Quinn scooted down, still bending over him on his knees, and
licked under the waistband of his jeans, teasing him with the promise of what would happen
once the pants were removed. Quinn kneaded Jake’s thighs, then reached under to grasp his
tight little butt, and squeezed it hard until Jake cried out, bucking his hips, and anxious to get
his now swollen cock into Quinn’s delectable mouth.
No doubt sensing his lover’s want, he lifted his head so that he could unbuckle Jake’s
belt, and rid him of his pesky jeans. Jake helped as much as he could without lowering his
arms, wiggling his ass to facilitate his undressing.
The only fabric left between his erection and Quinn’s mouth were the white chones he
had on. Without warning, Quinn ripped them away by grabbing the fly opening, and giving
them a vicious tear. Jake eyes widened at the unexpected move. Quinn pushed him to the
side, and continued ripping and tearing at them, until all that was left was the waist band,
and a few shreds of fabric.
Next Quinn rolled him completely onto his stomach, rid him of his shirt then pulled the
elastic of his tattered undies down, yanked it tight and let it go, where it snapped with a loud
thwack on Jake’s behind. He yelped, more from shock than actual pain. Quinn used his
rough, strong palm to caress where the band had hit, and Jake felt his lover’s warm breath on
his butt crease. Quinn then used his other hand to place Jake’s arms above his head again.
“Intertwine your fingers. Tell me to stop if I go too far.”
Quinn’s seductive tone was like a balm to Jake, and he merely nodded.
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His lover reached over for a small bottle. He poured what looked like some oil into his
hands, rubbed them together and massaged Jake’s shoulders, arms, and down his back. He
reached the top of his ass, pulled the elastic taut and let it hit his butt cheeks again. He
smoothed the oil where the band had stung him, and repeated this a few more times.
Jake had never had any kind of rough sex before, and it had never been anything he’d
even been the slightest bit curious about. Nor had he ever thought about being restrained, or
giving over control in any way. But this was thrilling and different. It was a heady mixture of
harsh and soft, salty and sweet.
He was unbelievably excited.
Quinn played with the band a little while longer, sometimes twisting it, pulling it even
harder so that it dug into his waist, and kneading Jake’s backside with his hands. Then he
grabbed both cheeks, spread them wide open and held them there. Quinn straddled the back
of Jake’s thighs, and Quinn’s swollen erection brushed against his legs. His senses were
completely awake and alive.
After what seemed like forever where Jake was lying face down, hands entwined above
his head and his ass exposed to the air as Quinn held it open in his strong grip, his lover
dived in greedily—biting, licking and eating all around his entire back area. Quinn grunted
and moaned as he took Jake’s ass with his mouth. He used his tongue to breach Jake’s tight
ring of muscle, and he mercilessly fucked him there. Over and over Quinn thrust in and out,
farther in than Jake had ever felt. Every bit of his awareness was centred on the penetration
inside his anus. He felt his nuts disappearing into his body, the uncomfortable tightness that
always happened just before he came. He didn’t imagine it was possible that he could do that
before his dick had ever even been touched, but Quinn had been surprising him in a lot of
ways ever since he’d first met him.
Quinn continued plunging his tongue into Jake’s asshole with complete enthusiasm,
reaching deep inside him so deliciously, and now the tip and underside of Jake’s cock was
being rubbed against the sheets. That final bit of friction sent him over the edge.
“Oh fuuuuuuuck!”
Jake grasped his hands tighter together, the sheets curling in his grip, his ass bucking
into Quinn’s face as he lost all control humping the sheets. After shooting his cum over and
over onto the bed, he collapsed in exhaustion, his entire body going limp. Quinn pulled out
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of Jake’s body, releasing his ass cheeks, and kissing softly all around Jake’s backside until he
lay down beside him.
Jake still had his eyes closed, but he turned his head towards Quinn on his left. He
could feel the man’s warm breath on his skin. Jake reached for him, and Quinn gathered him
to his side—being the bigger of the two—and acting as his protector. Jake allowed himself to
be held in the crook of Quinn’s arms, and rested his head snugly on his lover’s chest.
After a short while, he pulled back on Jake’s hair - not too hard—and tipped his head
back. Jake opened his lips to receive his lover’s tongue in his mouth, and Quinn kissed him
lazily, sucking in his top lip, then the bottom. Jake felt wonderfully used and sated, but he
wanted to return the favour to Quinn. He leaned up on one arm, and caressed Quinn’s cheek,
brushing some stray locks of black hair away from his face as he did so.
“I want to get you off too,” Jake said.
“You will babe. But I’m going to be in charge. If you’re still willing to trust me with
your body.”
Jake nodded.
“Let’s start by moving to a little drier spot on the bed.” Quinn winked at him.
Oh Lord. Do I really think I can stay away?
They scooted over to the farthest edge of the mattress, and Quinn pushed Jake’s
shoulder down, pinning him on his back by straddling him again. He reached over near the
head of the bed and grabbed a leather strip Jake had seen him tie his hair back with once
before and held it up for Jake to see. His eyes widened at the sight. He wasn’t sure this was
still within his comfort zone, but it had been thrilling when he’d kept his hands entwined
and not used them on Quinn. This was just a little bit farther, right?
“Put your arms above your head again, and clasp your fingers together like before.”
Jake did as he’d been told, and Quinn reached over and wrapped the tie around his
wrists, finally tying it in a small knot. It wasn’t super tight, but he was definitely without the
use of his hands now. Quinn leant down and brushed his lips back and forth against Jake’s,
teasing his face with his mane of dark hair. Pulling away, Quinn then sat up on his knees.
“Open your mouth for me. I want you to take me all the way in if you can.”
Using one hand against the wall for support, Quinn used his other to guide his cock
head past Jake’s lips. Jake wrapped his mouth around the man’s velvety erection, sucking
him deep, gagging slightly and marvelling at how vulnerable and dirty it felt to take Quinn’s
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cock this way. He had no control, Quinn was fucking his face the same as he would if he
were ramming him up the ass.
Tears fell as Quinn’s thrusts became more insistent, and his gag reflex was triggered.
Unbelievably, Jake’s dick was hard as a rock again, and he bucked in vain to the empty air.
With one final deep plunge, Quinn’s hot salty cum shot down Jake’s throat, and he did his
best to swallow as much as he could, sputtering a little.
Quinn pulled out almost immediately and cradled Jake from the back of his head.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Oh my God, I am so fine.”
Quinn clamped his mouth down on Jake’s again, not hesitating to push his tongue
inside, and swirl it around, no doubt sampling his own taste. He sat up, and turned around
so that he had his back to Jake, his ass now directly above Jake’s face.
“Suck my balls,” he said just before he took Jake’s cock in his mouth all the way to the
root.
Quinn worked his mouth up and down the length of Jake’s shaft, swirling his tongue
around and around, sometimes just flicking vigorously on the tip, working his way in the
slit, then plunging all the way down to the hilt again. Simultaneously, Jake suckled the man’s
smooth hairless balls, whilst wondering if he could survive this much unadulterated
pleasure on a regular basis.
The combination was getting to him again. There was plenty of raw and dirty sex, but it
was all done with tenderness and love.
So wild.
This time, his pleasure was being drawn out nicely, as he’d already come once. There
wasn’t the urgency to let go as there had been before. Jake just revelled in the sensations
surrounding him. The warm, wet tease of Quinn’s lips and mouth, the way he was also
caressing his nuts, the taste of Quinn’s balls in his mouth, the feeling of being taken and
giving into it.
Soon the build began low in his belly, and worked its way deeper and deeper into his
core. More and more he climbed, and his moans rose as well. Quinn groaned against his
cock, pushing him farther towards the edge. Finally, he exploded into Quinn’s mouth, and he
bore down, taking every drop without a problem. Gradually, he released himself off Jake’s
softening dick, and turned around, looking down at him and smiling.
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“I only ever want to give you the greatest of pleasure. Give me a chance.”
What am I supposed to say? Right now I feel like giving him my soul, but I can’t tell him that.
“I want to, Quinn, really. There are some things going on in me though that I need to
figure out first. Stuff that isn’t about you and me.”
Quinn rolled on his side next to him, and lightly caressed Jake’s chest.
“Then talk to me. Let me help you. I told you I’m here for you.”
“Jesus, Quinn, this is all so much. Umm, could you untie me?”
Quinn’s eyebrows furrowed together.
“So that you can pull away from me?”
“No, don’t say that, that’s not what I meant.”
Saying nothing, Quinn did as Jake had asked. He brought his arms back down, his
shoulders stiff from being in that unforgiving position for so long. He absent-mindedly
rubbed one side.
“Did I hurt you?” asked Quinn.
Jake stopped rubbing as soon as Quinn said that. That was not at all what he was trying
to convey to him.
“No. I liked it. Actually, I loved it. It was different for me, but I really loved it.”
Quinn looked at Jake slyly from where he lay on his back.
“So you like other flavours than vanilla?”
Jake chuckled, and turned towards Quinn, propping himself up on his side.
“I guess I do. Look, everything is just so heavy for me right now. Like I said, other stuff
too. Can I just enjoy the day with you, and then get ready to go and deal with tonight? I need
to get my game face on for that.”
“Let it be?”
Jake leant down and kissed Quinn softly.
“Yes, let it be.”
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Chapter Twelve
Things were heavy for Quinn too. He sat listening to Jake whooping and yelling as he
experienced his first cold shower at his place. It had taken a while, but with the weather
being plenty hot most of the time, Quinn had got used to it. After napping a little bit, they’d
both woken up hungry, and he offered to take Jake to a local place in town where he liked to
eat. It was a mixture of southwest flavours including black beans, rice, seasoned meats, flat
bread and various types of chillies grown right there in the backyard.
Afterwards, Quinn drove back past the Youth Centre, so he could show off what he’d
done with the mural. Jake actually seemed genuinely interested—not only in the mural, but
in what Richard was planning on doing with the Centre. Quinn told him as much as he
could, but without Richard around, he couldn’t give him all the details. He had been
surprised that his friend wasn’t still there, and was glad that he had the extra set of keys on
him, or else he couldn’t have shown Jake the mural.
However it was now time to get ready, and leave to go to the show. Quinn could tell
Jake was holding himself back. He wasn’t completely there with him. He would be
devastated if his detective gave up on him before they’d ever really started. He had to laugh
at the irony though, what else could he do? How many times had he pushed other men
away, when all they had wanted was someone who cared for them as much as they’d cared
for him? It was all so sad.
His melancholy and the impending night at the Lo-Fi brought John to mind.
God, I should have really tried with him. Not to love him, but to at least help him. Why was I
was so blind? He was such a sweet guy.
Quinn startled himself with a little choked sob, and wondered at how his emotions had
become so unpredictable lately. Swiping his eyes, he stood up, and went over to the small
closet near the bathroom where he kept his limited wardrobe. He was all about jeans and T-
shirts typically, but when he did a show, he had a few solid black button-up shirts he wore.
To his way of thinking, he didn’t want to call unnecessary attention to himself, instead, he
wanted his audience to be focused on the art.
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Jake stepped out of the bathroom shaking his head, his only covering the russet
coloured towel Quinn had handed him earlier, and jogging a little in place.
“I’m fucking freezing! But it sure did wake me up—damn!”
“Well, my turn.”
“Uh…Quinn?”
“What?
“I used up all the hot water.”
Quinn shook his head.
“Will there be more bad jokes where that came from?”
“You can count on it.”
Jake gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then went back to drying himself, showing off
his fine, tight, lean body.
Well, he’s not gone completely cold on me. This is my lesson after all I’ve put others through. I
have to be patient and have faith in what we’re meant to be.
Quinn finished getting ready, and gathered his sheets of poetry, including the one new
one he was planning on doing tonight. At least he hoped he still had the nerve to do it. He
looked over at Jake, who was busy going over some file. It looked like the list he had made
with Quinn the week before. How strange they should have met this way.
He would do the poem. The words were true and from his heart, that was all that
mattered.
Jake closed the file and turned to look at Quinn.
“You look great.”
“So do you, detective. Oh, I’m sorry, you’re my agent, right? Well, you look very slick
and professional. You’d make a perfect agent.”
“Slick, huh? I’m not sure that was the look I was going for.”
“No matter. I like it.”
“I see. And that’s all that matters?”
“In my opinion, yes.”
“Hmmm…”
Quinn could almost see the wheels turning in Jake’s head, and he was dying to know
what all of those thoughts were, that kept his man from just giving them a chance to really be
together. But right now, he knew that both of them needed to remain vigilant and aware of
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everything going on at the Lo-Fi that night. The chilling reality was that the brutal killer that
had been plaguing the area these last couple of months could be in the same room with them
in as little as an hour.
Jake had loved the day he’d spent with Quinn, and that was the honest truth.
Obviously, the love-making had been outrageously wonderful, but everything else had been
great too. He’d seen something in Quinn today that he’d never spotted before. The man had
a child-like quality to him when he wasn’t working so hard at being sombre and serious most
of the time. He noticed it when they were in the Youth Centre, and Quinn was excitedly
showing him the mural he was doing, and talking about what he knew of Richard’s plans for
the local kids.
Jake was amazed at the man’s talents, and he thought it was awesome what Richard
was doing with the Centre. He did note though that Quinn seemed somewhat surprised that
Richard hadn’t been around when they got there. Jake wasn’t sure what to make of it. He
also wasn’t sure what to make of his situation with Quinn either. It’s not as if he had come
out and directly asked Jake to be with him exclusively—and Jake was more than aware of his
reputation—but it was obvious that Quinn wanted more with him.
They had agreed to ‘let it be’, but in reality, Jake knew it would be up to him at this
point to give the go-ahead to any type of real relationship. If Jake didn’t believe he would be
able to overlook all of the reasons he didn’t think they would be a good match as partners,
then he would have to be fair and bring Quinn in on his thoughts. If he decided to push those
reasons to the side and give it a chance, there would have to be open communication
between them before Jake would be willing to put his heart on the line with such an intense
guy. Truthfully, Jake had been in exclusive relationships briefly before, but nothing that even
hinted at being as powerful as what was already going on with Quinn—even without a
commitment.
They’d agreed to ride over in Jake’s truck—as per the phone call in front of Maggie and
Nelson—but Jake hadn’t yet decided if he was willing to stay over if Quinn asked. Deep
down inside he knew he was probably lying to himself if he thought he’d be able to say no to
Quinn, but he had promised to give himself time to think about things, alone.
The anticipation of what the evening might bring kept them somewhat quiet on the
way to the coffeehouse, and their conversation was light. At exactly five minutes to seven,
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they pulled into the lot. It was already getting crowded, and Jake’s pulse pumped as he got
into cop mode.
As they’d agreed ahead of time, they would walk in together, and acknowledge Maggie
and Nelson in their respective roles. If there was anyone Quinn knew well enough that came
over, he would introduce them to his ‘representatives’, and they would try to get as much
info out of each guest as surreptitiously as possible. Quinn spotted Richard, and Jake told
him to pull his friend aside and let him in on the set-up so he didn’t inadvertently tip anyone
off.
Quinn milled around the crowd with Jake at his side, while Maggie and Nelson did
their own thing in other parts of the coffee house. The idea seemed to be working. They’d
certainly filled the room to capacity. Jake almost wondered if they weren’t going to get too
full, which would create a whole new problem. He could only imagine what the lieutenant
would say to him if his sting went bust because the fire marshal shut them down.
There were several people, most of them men, who Quinn whispered to Jake about.
Seeing them before him was doing a great job at jogging Quinn’s memory, and Jake was
hopeful that even if there were no arrests this evening, there would at least be more to work
with.
At ten minutes to eight, Quinn gave Jake a little private wink, and squeezed his hand
quickly. With that, he took the stage, and Jake headed to his pre-arranged spot by the
restrooms and rear exit. As he passed Maggie, he nodded, and she reached out and grabbed
him. He leant down.
“Has anyone met the dark-haired guy two tables to my left?” she whispered.
Jake glanced that way.
He whispered back, “That’s Richard Mendoza. He’s Quinn’s childhood best buddy.”
“I don’t trust him. He keeps looking all around the room, like he’s nervous or
something.”
“Okay, well he’s in on the whole thing, and knows this is a set-up.”
“Jesus, what next? Whose brilliant idea was that?”
Still keeping his voice down, Jake said, “Look, Maggie, he already knows me from
interviewing him…”
“And screwing his buddy, yeah, go on…”
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Jake began to fume, but he noticed that the announcer appeared to be getting ready to
introduce Quinn.
“Just deal with it. It’s show time.”
He pulled his arm away, and got into position. From where he stood, he had an almost
completely unobstructed view of the audience, and in addition to Maggie, he could also see
Nelson’s position.
Perfect.
He sneaked a look at Quinn, knowing he’d have to stay focused on his objective, no
matter how badly he wanted to just get lost in the man he’d been giving himself to all
afternoon. Quinn had his head bowed with his eyes closed, almost as if he were in prayer.
Jake hadn’t even thought to ask him what sort of preparations he went through before he
gave a performance, especially involving revealing his feelings in poetry. Jake would’ve
probably fainted if he ever had to do anything like that.
The announcer started things rolling, and Quinn stepped up to the mic. There was the
slightest glance in his direction before Quinn caught himself, and after welcoming everyone
and thanking them for taking the time to come, he began his first poem. It was just as earthy
and organic as Jake had expected, with references to nature contrasting with the harsh
realities of being. It was beautiful and strange all at the same time. Jake was not accustomed
to this much art, he had always been much more inclined to the cerebral. He had to admit
though, that it was really appealing to him, especially coming from Quinn.
Jake tore his gaze away from the stage and immediately locked eyes with that guy they
had met the week before with the redhead.
Andrew? That’s right.
Quinn had got his name wrong, and he’d laughed it off, but had seemed incredibly
insulted at the same time. He was standing next to that same redhead, but there were a
couple of other scantily dressed beauties surrounding him as well.
The guy gave him the creeps, but that didn’t exactly qualify him as a psychopath. Still,
it was worth noting that he’d shown up. Jake continued surveying the room and saw some
other young men who looked completely enraptured in what Quinn was saying. Jake jotted a
few notes in his phone to help remind him who he wanted to try to talk to during the
reception, after the show. He looked up again and saw that the Andrew guy was no longer
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standing with the women. He observed the entire venue from where he stood, and still
couldn’t spot him, when Richard came up just behind him and startled him.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “He’s an amazing poet isn’t he.”
He had said it more as a statement than a question.
“I guess I missed you guys at the Centre earlier, I was picking up more supplies.”
Why is he distracting me?
Jake leaned towards him. “Look, Richard, I’ve got to concentrate right now okay?”
“Oh shit. Sorry.”
Richard put his finger across his lips, and went down the hall to the men’s room. Jake’s
ears pricked up when he heard the next thing from the stage. Quinn was saying something
about a new poem.
“I wrote this in the last week, and it is the truest thing I have ever felt. It is called ‘Test
of Faith’.”
Oh crap.
Jake fantasised that all eyes were boring into him as Quinn had ever–so-slightly looked
his way. He was pretty sure at least Maggie’s were. Quinn began in a low seductive tone,
letting the words caress Jake through the microphone, the entire room silent.
“Your spirit in me
Pure connection all the time
There is no separation.
Terror of the unseen
Worming through threads of attachment
Eating at what was meant to be.
Reality will not let go
Even as it bears witness to
Sacred darkness, pure oneness.
But I shall be strength for you
Worthy of our joining
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Don’t deny me, I keep our faith.
And we will be
As none have ever been
Utmost belonging, brilliant night.”
There was a slight pause, then everyone burst into applause. Quinn looked Jake’s way
and gave a barely perceptible nod. Jake’s knees trembled and his stomach felt funny. He was
actually fighting back tears.
This is not happening. Not now.
Quinn’s show was over, and people crowded around him at the front of the stage.
Suddenly Andrew, the very person he had been looking for just a little while earlier, stood
right next to him. Maggie couldn’t be seen, and Nelson had his back to him, talking to a few
subjects near the front.
“There’s something I need to tell you, detective.”
“Excuse me?” Jake was a little thrown, and still in a semi-trance from Quinn’s powerful
words.
“Oh I’m very aware of all the problems poor Quinn has been going through because of
these awful killings. It’s been very stressful for him.”
This guy was talking as if he and Quinn were close friends and shared their problems
all the time, yet the impression Jake had got the week before was that Quinn barely knew the
guy. Something was very off.
“I was wondering if we could step out back, I think I might be able to shed some light
on things for you.”
“Uh, let me go grab my partner…”
“No, I only want to speak with you.” His tone became very harsh, but then he pulled
back. “Please, I feel more comfortable with you. I believe you have Quinn’s best interests at
heart, but I’m afraid the rest of law enforcement won’t see it that way.”
Something tugged at Jake’s gut, telling him he shouldn’t listen to this guy, yet, they had
so few leads to go on. And anyway, he was only stepping out the back door, and it was a
crowded place. He followed the smarmy man out of the back door, staying alert in case he
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perceived any direct threat. Once they were outside, he expected the guy to stop, but he kept
on going.
“Hey, where are you going?”
Andrew paused, then turned around.
“Over here, detective, I found something, and I wanted to show it to you. I think it will
solve these murders.”
What? This was sounding more and more goofy.
Jake didn’t have his piece on him—it was in the truck. It wouldn’t have looked right to
be packing a weapon as Quinn’s agent. Which also had him wondering how this guy knew
he was a detective. Jake looked over his shoulder, weighing his options. Andrew had done
nothing illegal—unless supreme creepiness had recently been outlawed. And if he had
something tangible relating to the case, Jake didn’t want to let it go. But all of his antennas
were on alert that there was something wrong here.
Deciding he needed backup at the very least, he turned to head back towards the coffee
house. Just as Jake was about to make his way around a large truck, Andrew was suddenly
on him, his arm clamped around his throat in a vicious chokehold. Jake reached up to grab
his elbows, but the guy was steroid strong, and fear built in Jake as he realised he would not
be able to fight off this psycho. Andrew had definitely got the jump on him. He frantically
clutched at the sweaty man’s arms, clawing at him uselessly. As he lost consciousness, he
also knew with gut-wrenching truth that he was now in the grip of the very serial killer that
they were there to catch.
“That was beautiful, Quinn, I’m very proud of you. I think Jake will come around after
that.”
“Thanks, Richard, uh, speaking of which, have you seen where he went?”
One minute he was looking at Jake’s stunned expression as he’d finished the poem he’d
written about him, and the next, Jake had completely disappeared.
“Oh, I saw him walking out the back door with that big blond guy that’s always here
with the bimbos.”
“What?”
He jumped off the front of the stage, and pushed through the crowd towards the back
door. All types of alarms screamed in Quinn’s head. He couldn’t think of any good reason
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why Jake would have been going out back with that fucking weirdo. Andrew had always
made his flesh crawl, but he’d never cared other than to keep as much distance between him
and the man as possible. Now this.
Maggie tried to grab his arm as he flew by, but he shook her off.
“Hey!” she yelled. “What the hell is going on!”
Quinn yelled back over his shoulder as he kept moving.
“Jake went out back with someone!”
Maggie was soon on his heels, and he had to admire her spunk. And her ability to keep
up with him. She obviously cared about Jake quite a bit.
As soon as he burst out the back door, he saw a white van speeding out of the lot. He
barely caught a glimpse of Andrew in the driver’s seat.
“Fuck!”
Quinn looked around desperately. By now, Nelson and Richard had caught up with
them, wondering what was happening. Quinn grabbed Richard’s arm.
“Your keys, bro.”
Richard never hesitated—he yanked them from his pocket and handed them to Quinn.
“Where…”
“In the front on the street,” Richard finished for him.
“Thanks.” Quinn took off with Maggie screaming after him to wait, that she was calling
it in.
He didn’t have time to discuss it with her, his man was in trouble. And in some twisted
way that he still didn’t understand, it was all because of him.
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Chapter Thirteen
Jake woke up in the dark, on what felt like a cold concrete floor, and he was tied up. As
a matter of fact, he could barely move, because he was actually hog-tied.
If only I could have held Quinn just one last time and told him how much his poem meant to me.
He couldn’t get weepy. He had to hold it together. How had that guy got the jump on
him like that? If he’d come to his senses even a fraction earlier, he might have got away. It
just didn’t seem real that he was in this position.
A bright light suddenly clicked on in his face, blinding him. He squinted, and tried to
see his surroundings, but the light had made tons of spots dance before him, blurring his
vision.
“We’re awake I see,” said Andrew in his pseudo-intellectual affected voice. “How is my
little detective feeling? Missing Quinn? I couldn’t believe that revolting trash he wrote about
you. You’re obviously poisoning him. I just hope I’m not too late.”
“What’s this all about,” Jake croaked out, his voice sore from Andrew’s harsh
treatment.
“It’s about all of the dreck that people try to pass off as art, and the sycophants that
steal the souls of true artists. Like you stealing from Quinn.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t taken anything from Quinn.”
“Yes you have, you silly faggot. You’ve tricked him into thinking he’s somehow
destined to be with you, that the two of you have some sort of spiritual connection, and now
it has turned his words toxic. As soon as I get rid of you, I will be one step closer to clearing
Quinn’s artistic path.”
Oh brother. This guy snapped irretrievably a long time ago. I am toast if I don’t think of
something fast. I should keep him talking.
“How did you find out I was a detective?”
Andrew snorted. “As if that was so hard. I followed you two lovebirds around that day
after you left the coffee house. I waited until you left Quinn’s home—I’ve been there often
when he didn’t know so I could sneak a peek at his latest creations—and then when you
went to the taco place and the ruins, I figured it out. Especially with all of that precious hand-
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holding. Once I saw the fliers, and you and your little minions come into the coffee house, I
knew I’d be able to grab you at the show. What I wasn’t expecting was that disgusting
display of mush from my dearest Quinn. Ugh.”
“So, you were jealous of Quinn’s lovers, and want him for yourself?”
“Oh please. You’re such a simpleton. I’m not gay. I don’t want to fuck him. I just want
to free him, as I freed Francesca in Monterey Bay.”
Francesca. Monterey Bay. I have to remember that if I survive this.
“And the idea that I could be jealous of any of that filth—it’s not even worth discussing.
Well, I can’t chit-chat with you all night. I want to be near when Quinn hears of your death. I
plan on encouraging him to channel his pain and loss into his work—a way to heal, you see.”
“I just don’t see what you get out of it—it makes no sense.”
“You are really trying my patience, you pathetic moron. I get to know that I am the one
responsible for removing the obstacles that prevent this planet from experiencing the
ultimate that genuine artists have to offer. It’s my destiny. But you are too shallow and
useless to comprehend this, which is why you must now die.”
With his cheek pressed against the unforgiving ground, and his limbs restrained behind
him, Jake tried to lift his head to see what was coming, to see if there was any way to thwart
the inevitable. In his last moments, all he could think of was the agony that Quinn would go
through because he would blame himself all over again for another death.
I’m so sorry, Quinn. I would give anything to be able to tell you that.
Jake still tried to see past the awful bright light shining in his eyes. It was kicked to the
side a little, and with abject horror, he saw the axe head resting at the toes of Andrew’s fussy
white loafers. Andrew scraped against the concrete with the axe and chuckled, both sounds
nauseating to Jake.
“I’ve never decapitated anyone before, so you’ll forgive me if I miss the first couple
times?”
Oh fuck.
Jake screwed his eyes shut, he couldn’t handle the thought of seeing that coming. He
could try to roll away, but then his suffering would likely be prolonged as Andrew hacked
away at him. This was it, and there was nothing he could do.
There was a loud clang as the axe hit the ground somewhere near him. Jake jerked and
tensed up.
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He hadn’t been hit. The guy couldn’t be that bad of an aim. Jake dared to open his eyes,
and he was greeted with Andrew’s face right next to him, with his dazed eyes rolled in the
back of his head.
What the…?
“Jake, oh my God, Jake, tell me you’re okay.”
Strong arms cradled him, and he looked up into Quinn’s moist eyes.
“Quinn? How did you find me?”
“Never mind that right now, let’s get you out of this shit first.”
Quinn reached into one of his boots, and pulled out a knife.
“I didn’t know you had that.”
“Shhh, sweetheart, let me take care of you.”
Yes, I want you to take care of me.
Within a couple of minutes, Jake was freed, but his legs and arms were very shaky from
the way he’d been restrained. Quinn helped him to his feet, put his arm around his waist and
whispered, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“I don’t think so, my dearest Quinn.”
They both turned to see Andrew, the side of his head bloody either from where he’d
fallen—or maybe from Quinn hitting him—wielding the large axe over his head. Quinn
shoved Jake behind him, and threw his arms up to block the first strike.
“Nooooo!” Jake yelled, just as a gun shot rang out.
Andrew crumpled to the ground in a heap, completely still, a bullet hole in the back of
his head. Jake froze where he stood, unable to tell where the shot had come from in what
appeared to him, in the limited light, to be some sort of large empty warehouse. Quinn
grabbed Jake into his arms, trying to shield him as much as he could with his body.
“Nobody move! Mesa Police!”
Maggie. Good ol’ Maggie.
Beams from scattered flashlights made their way towards them, and Jake relaxed into
Quinn’s arms. Maggie’s was the first face he saw, and under the bizarre circumstances, he
really didn’t care who else witnessed his lover holding him like this. As of that moment, Jake
had officially cleared Quinn as a suspect.
“Detective Gutierrez, are you okay?”
“Yes, thanks to you, Detective Sullivan.”
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“That’s why you need to be practising at the range more.”
Jake shook his head. It was going to be a long night, reports to complete, statements to
make. Wrapping up a case like this would involve a lot of paperwork. Then there were press
conferences and meetings with his superiors. No doubt the lieutenant would yell at him for
getting himself caught by the killer. He sighed. It would be another very tough week.
Quinn still held on to him tightly, and Jake didn’t mind at all. Maggie looked them over
suspiciously, then Quinn let go of Jake with one hand to reach out to her.
She accepted his offer, and they shook.
“Thank you for acting so fast, and showing up when you did.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself, Verdugo. I think Jake’s a lucky guy.”
“I hope he feels that way.”
Jake just smiled, not willing to spill his guts right there in front of Maggie and the other
officers wandering about. Fortunately, they were interrupted right then by the medic.
Terrence—a young African-American EMT who had recently joined the team—came over to
check Jake out.
Terrence exuded an easy confidence all wrapped up in smoky good looks, and Jake felt
Quinn tense his hold as the medic got closer.
“Don’t fret, babydoll,” he said to Quinn, “I just wanna make sure your man is returned
to you in good shape.”
Fuckin’A, what a smooth operator he is.
Jake could only imagine the look on Quinn’s face, but he let him go, and Jake followed
Terrence just outside to the Medic Van. Quinn was right by his side the whole time.
As Terrence looked Jake over, and Quinn kept an eye on things, the lieutenant pulled
up, with Barry close on his heels.
Oh great.
A long night indeed.
As he’d predicted, the lieutenant was yelling at him six ways to Sunday about how
stupid he’d been to get snared by the killer, alternating with how lucky it was for them that
he had been kidnapped so that the case was neatly wrapped up. Then he thanked Maggie for
shooting ‘the fucker’ so that the tax-payers could be spared that expense.
Jake was haunted by the images of Andrew’s other victims, and wondered if their
families would agree with the lieutenant’s assessment. He thought of how close he’d come to
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being the next one and involuntarily shivered. Terrence had put a blanket over him in case
he fell into shock, but Quinn still rushed over, sat on the edge of the van next to him and put
his arm around him.
Right then both Barry and the lieutenant looked their way and froze. Jake knew he was
going to have to include Quinn’s actions in his final report, but he just wasn’t in the mood at
that moment to get into it. Then he remembered something else.
“Lieutenant, I need to tell you something.”
Quinn didn’t remove his arm even as his boss approached.
“I can’t wait. What is it Gutierrez?”
“When the killer had me tied up, I was trying to keep him talking, and he said
something about doing this before in Monterey Bay for someone named Francesca. I’m
guessing she was some type of artist as well.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll call it in tomorrow. That can be their problem, but forward to them
anything on our guy that they need.”
“Sure.”
“Anything else you wanna say?”
Jake smiled feebly. “No, sir. That’s it.”
“Humph.”
The lieutenant walked away, and Jake pondered whether the man would let it go, or if
he even cared anymore whether he did or not.
“When can I get you home? You need your rest.”
Quinn was looking down at Jake with a worried expression.
“Well, I still need to get you back to the rez first, and then I’ll have to drive from there.
But I’ll be fine.”
“Bullshit. When I said ‘home’, I meant the rez. You’re staying with me.”
Are we really going to get into all of this right now?
“Okay, I can stay tonight if you’re all right with that.”
Quinn squeezed Jake’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “I won’t yell at you in front of
your friend and co-workers, but I wish you would just knock it off already. I know you can
feel the strength of our connection.”
Jake sighed. “Quinn, I swear I do. And that poem…” Jake could feel himself becoming
emotional, and he choked back a sob. “Thank you so much for that. But just because I’m not
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handling things the way you want me to right now, doesn’t mean that I’m not doing the best
I can.”
They stayed silent after that, but Jake had to admit he was relieved that Quinn wanted
to be with him tonight. The last thing on his mind was sex after the ordeal he’d just been
through, but to have the comfort of Quinn’s arms holding him through the night was
something he greatly needed. His mind drifted to what he’d thought would be his last
seconds alive and how badly he’d wanted to tell Quinn how important he was. Now here he
was, and still he resisted him. But at least there would be more time together now, and Jake
had a lot of serious thinking to do about everything.
* * * *
Quinn didn’t think his heart would ever stop pounding. He had never been more
terrified about anything in his life as he’d been when going after Jake and that nut job. It had
been serendipitous that Richard’s SUV had been on the street and facing in the right
direction when he’d bolted out of there. He had barely been able to make the tail lights of
Andrew’s van disappearing down the street. Just a few seconds later and he might not have
been able to find him.
Quinn’s gut clenched at that thought, and he squeezed Jake’s hand a little too hard.
“Ow,” mumbled Jake, who had his head resting against the window as Quinn drove
the truck back to the rez.
“Shh, sorry, babe. You just keep resting.”
It had been one hell of a night, and now he understood exactly why Andrew had made
him recoil every time he was near. His spirit had been spot on with that one. It was the
opposite of how he felt so joined and at ease with Jake. His spirit spoke to him about that too.
Richard had been a nervous wreck too. He’d waited with Nelson back at the coffee
house, and had been about to have a complete breakdown before they’d made it back. He
kept apologising over and over to Quinn.
“I had no idea bro, I should have gone out there or something. Oh thank God you’re
both okay.”
Poor Richard would probably never leave the rez again.
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They finally pulled in Quinn’s driveway, and he let go of Jake’s hand, noting that Jake
was now sound asleep.
Probably crashing from shock and the whole adrenaline rush.
Quinn was just about there himself.
Quinn went around to the passenger side and slowly eased the door open. Jake roused
from his sleep, confused and startled.
He’ll be having nightmares about this for a while. And so will I.
“Come on, babe, I’ve got you.”
Quinn gathered Jake into his arms, even as Jake tried to step down on the ground. He
lifted him up and carried his man, his love, inside. There was a weak protest, but then he
relaxed into Quinn’s embrace. He laid his sweet detective on the bed and caressed his cheek.
It was still tearing at him how close he came to losing him.
When he’d arrived at the warehouse, he’d had to be so careful. He had parked on the
street, and sneaked around to the back near to the van, knowing it was too risky to bring the
SUV any closer.
Andrew was already inside, and had slid the large door shut. Quinn was close to panic
trying to find a way to get inside before any harm came to Jake—and without being
discovered—so that he could have the jump on the guy. He’d finally found an office window
all the way on the other side of the large building, prised it open and stealthily made his way
through to find Jake. Fortunately, Andrew’s loud talking had alerted him to where they
were.
I was barely in time before…
He cast the ugly thought from his mind, and gazed down at Jake’s sleeping face, so
peaceful, so sweet. Quinn curled up next to him, keeping one arm draped protectively over
his lover’s body, and eventually fell into a deep slumber.
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Chapter Fourteen
It had been over a month since Jake had been through the ordeal with The Bondage
Butcher Killer, as Andrew was still known. Barry had been correct about the small blood
swipe—the DNA was a perfect match for Andrew’s blood. He was also left-handed. He and
Maggie had received special recognition for wrapping the case up so fast, and the lieutenant
suddenly thought that the sun rose and set on his two young detectives.
But Jake continued to be haunted by that night, and just how warped Andrew had
been. He couldn’t help but wish there was a special kind of hell reserved for such an evil
being. He couldn’t even bring himself to consider him human. Finding out how others had
been tortured and killed in Monterey Bay California, all in the twisted name of how Andrew
deemed artists should create, made Jake’s disgust for the man that much stronger.
The most disturbing aspect of that case was that the artist Francesca—a locally popular
singer-songwriter—had disappeared without a trace shortly before Andrew had relocated to
Mesa the year before. Jake shuddered to think what Andrew had meant when he’d said he’d
finally ‘freed’ her. And that his beloved Quinn might have been next on his list.
Today was the day he was finally moving the rest of his things over to Quinn’s. He had
never left his side since the night of the show. He did the perfunctory things he had to in the
interest of wrapping up the case, but everything had changed when he’d woken up in
Quinn’s arms the morning after The Bondage Butcher had been shot dead. He felt at home.
Quinn healed his spirit, and embraced him with unconditional love. Jake had been trying to
reconcile his feelings for Quinn, and his wishes for his future, and as a result, he had taken a
big step at work.
He’d requested a leave of absence. It had quickly been granted due to his experience of
being kidnapped and almost killed, and it had also been recommended that he seek
counselling to deal with any post-traumatic stress issues.
The counselling had been one of the best things he could have done. Yes, it helped with
what had happened, but he’d also been able to discuss his situation with Quinn, his desire
for a family and his dissatisfaction with his job. A combination of wonderful things had
happened in the last month. He had not only been able to work up the courage to talk with
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Quinn about the issues that worried him regarding pursuing a long-term relationship, but
he’d decided that being a detective in homicide wasn’t really for him. He felt that a better
way for him to catch people when they were falling was to get into some type of community
service. He had a decent-sized chunk of savings put away—the result of him residing in a
studio apartment, and living on the cheap. He had hoped to buy a house with it someday,
but now it could finance the beginnings of his new life.
Maggie had yelled at him for the better part of an hour when he’d confessed his desire
to leave the force, but because she cared about him so much, she’d eventually eased up. She
shared with him that a lot of it had to do with feeling like she was losing him, and that they
weren’t going to be in each other’s lives on a daily basis anymore. He reassured her that she
would always be an important part of his life.
He’d also been hanging out with Richard and Quinn at the Youth Centre, helping out
during his time off. That had been its own type of therapy. He was drawn into Richard’s
excitement about developing it, and he had his own idea about having programs for foster
kids. It was greeted with enthusiasm not only from Richard, but Quinn as well.
One evening as they had watched the sunset together, sitting outside with that special
vanilla blend tea, and holding hands, Jake knew he was ready to completely open up to his
lover. It was late October, and there had finally been a bit of a chill in the air.
“I love you, Quinn.”
Quinn had taken a sip of his tea and squeezed Jake’s hand. He had seen the faintest hint
of a smile at the corner of Quinn’s lips.
“Finally, detective. You’re smarter than I thought.”
“About that. I don’t think you’ll be able to call me detective much longer. I’m putting in
my notice.”
There had been a silence as Quinn took another sip, and Jake had gone crazy
wondering what he was thinking. He’d put his mug down and turned to Jake, this time
taking both of his hands in his.
“I’ll support whatever decision you make, I’m here for you no matter what. But I
honestly always felt in my heart that the homicide department wasn’t for you. Not because
you’re not intelligent—you’re the sharpest man I know—but you also have the biggest heart
of anyone I know, and working homicide would have dulled that until the Jake I love was
completely gone.”
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Jake had turned his head a little so his lover couldn’t see him tearing up, but Quinn had
grabbed his chin and pulled his head back to face him.
“Don’t ever hide yourself from me, you have no need to. There’s something else you
want to say, I’ve felt it for days now.”
“I guess I’m afraid I’ll break the spell if I bring this up.”
“Unless you tell me you’re not really gay—which I know is not true—there’s nothing
you can say that will change how I feel about you.”
“Well, you finally got to meet my big crazy family this last Sunday, and I could see how
overwhelmed you were. I know it’s very different from your own experience growing up,
and you don’t have any family life now. But that’s very important to me, and something I
want in my future, and I’m just afraid you won’t want that, or won’t be able to handle it.”
Quinn had dropped to his knees and moved closer to Jake, still clutching both of his
hands and looking him directly in his eyes.
“You are my family Jake, and if we can add children to our lives, I would be honoured
to do that with you. Don’t you think I always dreamt of having a family to share my life
with? I would cry when I was little, not only over the loss of my parents, but the loss of the
brothers and sisters I never got to have. I’ve been alone so long, so caged off. I had no choice
but to keep my feelings carefully locked up, because I was so afraid that I would be alone
forever. But I’m not anymore, and all I want is to grow as a family with you by my side. Also,
how could I not love your nana—she’s a spitfire.”
Jake had laughed, a surge of relief and joy running through him.
“I think she loves you too. But what you saw last week was her sweet side.”
“Yikes. Now I am scared.”
* * * *
That night when they’d made love, it had taken on another level of tenderness. Quinn
had worked him over and over until his body was completely limp, and Jake was sure he
would weep from the intensity of it. He finally felt that he was doing the right thing in every
aspect of his life and was honestly ready to begin living it with Quinn. They’d even begun to
make plans together—one of them being a trip to Alaska to seek out the other half of Quinn’s
origins. It meant so much to Jake that his lover wanted to share that journey with him.
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He turned up the driveway and saw Quinn standing outside, waiting for him. Anxious.
Happy. Welcoming. This was his maybe, and he was completely certain of it.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
The Perfect Third
Morticia Knight
Excerpt
Chapter One
Alexa Wharton unsnapped the front of her deep purple, lacy, push-up bra and let it fall
to the floor. With the last bit of clothing off her body, she inspected herself in the full-length
antique mirror in her bedroom. Her round, heavy breasts hung beautifully, her large pink
nipples peaked from the slight chill in the room. As she continued looking down her body,
she smiled in satisfaction at how her Pilates and yoga classes had helped to shape her torso
into a lean, but still feminine form. Slightly curved hips, a flat tummy and a perky ass with
long legs made her any man’s dream.
Yet, she was alone. She pulled her long, brunette curls into a ponytail that fell to the
middle of her back, and scrunched up her slightly upturned nose in the mirror. She was
almost twenty-five years old, a quarter of a century. What a thought that was. It was getting
scary to think that someone who was as sensual as she was could be this hopeless when it
came to finding a deep love and real pleasure in her life.
Perhaps it was time to take the proverbial bull by the horns, or at least his horn as it
were, and really make something happen. She had always been attractive enough that
having to go after a man hadn’t been a problem—many had approached her. The guys in her
law firm in the financial district of downtown New York City never hesitated to come on to
her. But she needed to remain professional, while having a social life. So she made do with
meeting potential dates at attorney get-togethers where there were men from other firms. She
wasn’t much of a bar scene girl, and most of her friends were already in committed
relationships.
Throwing on her cream silk robe, she went into the living room of her Soho apartment
and opened her laptop. Internet sources might be a possibility. She wasn’t quite ready for an
e-date service, but maybe some ideas on the latest hot clubs, or she could look into joining a
social group. This is pathetic. What sort of lame social group was she going to join? The same
old business-minded, straight-laced men were not what she wanted. She had always
fantasised about being with a wild and uninhibited male who would open up her mind and
body to all manner of erotic thrills. She wanted a bawdy man with staying power. Someone
creative and daring, who was ready to turn her on over and over again, all night long. I
wouldn’t say no to a huge dick either.
Just then her desk phone rang, and she jumped, abruptly torn from her sexual reverie. It
was Jill, a very upwardly mobile colleague at her firm who loved to party, but could still
negotiate the finer points of a business contract on only three hours of sleep. She was a tall
and lanky temptress with a short, red bob who could literally charm the pants off any man.
“Hey, hot stuff,” she cooed into the phone. “What are you doing at home at eight p.m.
on a Saturday night, you naughty thing? Or should I say, you not very naughty thing?”
“Ha! I suppose I should ask you the same. You are the one calling me, after all, and I
don’t hear the customary laughter and clinking glasses in the background. Nor do I hear any
dance beats, so you can’t be at a club. Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch…”
“Now, now. Don’t be cranky with me just because you haven’t had a decent lay in ages.
But I may just have the perfect solution for you.”
“Oh really?” said Alexa, secretly marvelling at how Jill’s call perfectly fit her mood.
“Yes, really,” laughed Jill. “Now, a Hollywood producer client of mine has been trying
to get in my pants—no big surprise there—for ages. So his latest bid to impress me was to
invite me to the New York premiere of Locked and Loaded at the Lincoln Centre.”
“That’s awesome, but what does that have to do with me?”
“Stay with me on this. He had to leave town at the last minute, so he had someone
bring the tickets over to my office. Well, Bob—you know the guy that just joined the firm
from Boston? He was taking me from behind in the conference room, and somehow I might
have mentioned this premiere thing. Anyway, I don’t actually want to hang out with Bob. He
can screw me or whatever, but I’m not at all interested in going to this thing with him. So I
told him I’d already invited a friend. It’s next Friday night. There’s a party afterwards, and
I’m willing to bet it will be filled with stunningly fuckable hotties.”
“Well, since you put it that way…” said Alexa sarcastically, but Jill was off on her own
agenda.
“Great then! We’ll go over all the details Monday. Now get out there and do the nasty
with someone already.”
“Don’t worry, it’s right here on my list. Pick up shampoo, call landlord about leaky
faucet, do the nasty. Got it.”
There was a pause while Jill processed the smart-ass commenting that Alexa was
known for.
Finally, Jill laughed. “Oh, you! You’re so silly. See ya Monday.”
Alexa hung up the phone and pondered this sudden turn of events. Stunningly
fuckable hotties? This did have possibilities. Artists, crazy Hollywood actors, who knew
what else? This could be much more exciting than the typical business and financial types
who only wanted a quick release so they could go back to scouring the Nikkei index.
She decided this was it, her moment to shine. She was going to go all out, buy a new
dress, Jimmy Choo heels, racy underthings. She was even going to get the ultimate ‘I plan to
get fucked hard’ accessory—a bikini wax. She had almost a week to pull her quest for hot sex
together.
About the Author
I love all things book. I have a passion for creating stories—the more fantastic the
better—and used to spend hours as a little girl drawing pages of pictures and then
putting captions to them. I love reading and writing several different genres, but I
recently put my more mainstream paranormal romances aside for naughtier tales.
I also enjoy music from Imogen Heap and Nine Inch Nails to Mozart, and love horror
and sci-fi films from cheesy to terrifying. I must also confess that I am a huge LOTR
(Lord of the Rings) geek.
I currently reside on the northern coast of Oregon, where the constant rain and fog
reminds me of my visits to family in England and Scotland when I was a child.
Morticia loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at
Also by Morticia Knight
Uniform Encounters: Set Ablaze
Clandestine Classics: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
All Together Now: The Perfect Third
Total-E-Bound Publishing
www.total-e-bound.com
Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™
erotic romance titles and discover pure quality
at Total-E-Bound.
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