by C J Baty
"Good morning," Robert answered.
"What's so good about it?" Marcus did not sound happy.
"What's wrong?"
"Michael Winehouse is denying everything," Marcus started. "He says, he doesn't know anything about text messages, or even what Damien's phone number is."
"He could be lying," Robert offered.
"That's true, and I've got a couple more people I want to talk to about him before I drop him as a suspect. But...." Marcus hesitated.
"But?"
"But, so far there's nothing concrete that can tie him to the situation."
Marcus's sigh was so deep, Robert heard it clearly through the phone line.
"What about his wife? Did she have anything to say?"
"Plenty, but nothing about the case." Marcus added, "I'm going to see her in person today. I'm on my way to Detroit now. When are you two headed back?"
"As soon as we get something to eat. Are you returning to The Warfield soon? I don't think Damien is going to want to stay put there for long. He saw his assistant yesterday and he may have a new assignment."
"No! Don't let him out of your sight until I tell you otherwise."
Robert sensed that Marcus wasn't telling him everything, and he didn't think he was going to like whatever it was.
"Carter Preston has been spotted." Marcus's voice sounded rough.
"Where?" Robert was yelling now. "That maniac cannot be allowed anywhere near Damien again."
"I know. Calm down, I agree with you," Marcus stated. "Clarksville, Tennessee. He was trying to force some kid to go with him out of a bar. The kid was fighting back, and that got them noticed. Preston was removed from the bar and told not to come back. An undercover cop, working the joint, recognized him from photos that had been distributed around the state."
"Any idea where he is now?" Robert asked, without hope.
"No."
"All right. I'll get him back to The Warfield and we'll be waiting for your return," Robert said. "I'm not telling him about Carter. He had a nightmare last night, and it wasn't pretty. The last thing he needs is to hear that Carter has been spotted anywhere in the south."
"See you tomorrow," Marcus said as he hung up.
Robert put away his phone and ran his fingers through his hair. There was no way in hell he was going to let Damien find out that Carter was close. No way.
He returned to the restaurant and found Damien eyeing the menu and sipping a cup of coffee.
"What took you so long," he asked as he set down his cup.
"Marcus had a lot to say." Robert didn't offer any more, and Damien didn't ask. "So, what looks good on the menu? Bacon, eggs and sausage gravy sounds good to me," Robert happily suggested.
Damien made a choking noise and waited for the girl to return and take their orders. "I'll have plain yogurt, a fruit cup and an English muffin... no butter."
Robert couldn't hold back his laughter. Damien needed to learn how to eat better. "I'll have two eggs, over medium, with white toast, and a side order of bacon," Robert said, then added, "Oh, and give me an order of home fries with onions and cheese in them."
The waitress took their menus and refilled their coffee before she headed back to the kitchen. Damien was staring at Robert when he looked up at him over his coffee cup.
"How can you eat that stuff? That sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen." Damien was clearly amazed. "How old are you, anyway? Don't you think about your health at all?"
Robert set down his coffee cup and stared at Damien. Age had never meant anything to him, especially not in relationships. And as for his health, he was clearly in excellent shape, so why should he worry about what he ate?
"I turned thirty-nine on my last birthday and I am perfectly healthy. There's no reason for me to stop enjoying food at this stage in my life." He sipped his coffee. "So, how old are you? Not that it matters to me."
Damien stuttered. "I'm... forty... two. Old enough and mature enough to realize that one has to take care of one's health if you want to live a long life."
The waitress returned with Damien's order, placing it on the table before him.
"Your breakfast will be out in just a few minutes, sir," she said to Robert. Her cheeks flushed as she spoke to him. Damien's fork made a loud clank as he placed it on his plate. The young woman took one glance at Damien and then fled from the table.
"I can't believe the nerve of some people," Damien said, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of pineapple with it.
"What are you talking about?" Robert asked as he added sugar to his coffee.
"Don't tell me you didn't notice she was flirting with you," Damien said incredulously.
"So?" Robert hadn't noticed, but it pleased him that Damien had.
Damien continued to eat his yogurt and fruit without speaking.
Eventually, Robert's breakfast came and he dug right in. It smelled heavenly and tasted just as good. Damien had long finished, only eating half of what he had ordered. Robert ate every bite of his food and enjoyed it immensely.
Damien looked at him with amazement.
"Where do you put it all?"
Robert smiled and lifted his arm, bending it at the elbow so his bicep bulged.
He pointed at the puff of muscle. "Here, right here, and anywhere else it chooses to go. I'll hit the gym tonight or first thing in the morning and work this off." Robert rose from his seat and grabbed the check off the table. He signed the bill and then opened his wallet and left a ten dollar tip for the waitress.
"We need to get going. I'd like to get back to The Warfield as quickly as we can."
It didn't escape Damien's attention that Robert hardly said a word during their trip back to The Warfield. He was avoiding the topic of Marcus completely. Every time Damien tried to ask him what they had talked about, Robert carefully shifted the conversation in some other direction. What Marcus had shared with Robert, he couldn't or wouldn’t share with Damien.
Confronting Marcus was the only way to get the answers Damien needed.
But Marcus wasn't there when they returned, and Justin was even more evasive than Robert had been. He would only say that Marcus had gone to Detroit on a lead and would be back early in the morning.
Damien decided that when Marcus returned, he was going to have a talk with his two friends and explain that if they wouldn't be forthcoming with him, he was out of here. There was a new assignment waiting for him in his email inbox and it would put him on a plane out of the country in twenty-four hours. Whoever was behind all this shit wouldn't be able to touch him when
he was halfway around the world. He was tired of being mollycoddled, and it was going to stop.
He opened the door to his suite and realized that Robert had disappeared as soon as they had returned to the hotel. Not even saying goodbye. What surprised Damien even more was the thought that he missed the man. He was such a conundrum of personalities, and every new one that Damien discovered made him want to know him even more.
His mind drifted back to this morning and the playful kisses and time spent lying together. They had wrapped themselves in a safe cocoon and it had been wonderful. That is, until Robert's misplaced sense of chivalry took over.
That had been another piece of the puzzle that collectively made up a man who was worth taking apart. And Damien wanted to take Robert Wyler apart, piece by piece. He wanted to see him come undone and tremble under Damien's touch. That's what he had thought about when he left Robert and escaped to the solitude of running water. He was thinking about it now and it was having the same effect on him as it had this morning. Throbbing and hard, he pushed on his cock, hoping the pressure would relieve some of the need and deflate his growing member. It didn't work. The phone ringing, however, did distract him.
Damien grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He opened the call without looking at the caller ID. Too late, he realized he should have looked first.
" You aren't any smarter now than you were in the past ." The v
oice was muffled, but it was clearly a man, and he was angry.
" I've told you once and I'll tell you again. You. Are. Mine. You cannot run where I will not find you. You can hide in the tallest building you can find.
Leave Atlanta on a plane to anywhere and I'll be right behind you. I'm watching your every move. It won't be long and we'll be seeing each other
—"
Damien disconnected the call, and when it started ringing again, he threw the phone across the room. His hands were shaking when he looked down at them. His stomach was threatening to bring back up the breakfast he had eaten hours ago. Damien collapsed on the floor and tried to slow his breathing. He would not have another panic attack over this bastard.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring at the floor, but it must have been hours. The curtains were open. It was dark outside when a knock pulled him back to himself. Pounding followed Justin’s voice when Damien didn’t respond.
"I'm going to use the pass key, Damien, if you don't answer me." Justin's voice rose as he spoke. "Say something if you can hear me."
"Come on in." Damien tried to shout, but the words came out weak.
The key card slid in the lock and the door opened. Justin rushed in and bent over Damien.
"Are you okay? It's nearly midnight. Why are you sitting here like this?" he asked as he helped Damien to his feet.
"He called this time." Damien choked as he spoke. "No text. A voice. A muffled, exaggerated, angry voice."
He needed Robert. Where was Robert?
Chapter Nine
"C ome on," Krystal whined . "Tell me what happened."
Robert wondered how long he could avoid her questions. Krystal knew how to wrestle what she wanted out of him. Maybe feeding her would distract her.
"Robert." Her voice was firmer.
"There's nothing to tell." Robert shoved open the door to the restaurant she had chosen. It was their usual dinner night, and her turn to pick.
Krystal didn't say a word, but he could feel her eyes boring into his head. He sensed them penetrating into his mind. How had he ended up with such a person as this as his best friend?
The hostess at the podium smiled at them. They ate here often enough, she recognized them. She directed them to a table, left their menus, and told them their waiter would be with them in a moment.
Robert picked up the water pitcher and filled first Krystal's glass and then his. He sipped at the water while he decided what he could tell Krystal without giving anything away. She'd been quiet for too long, and Robert knew she was making her plan of attack.
"Robert." Her voice sounded kind. Robert suspected it was a ploy to throw him off, given his experiences with her in the past. "Robert, we're friends, aren't we? I only want to be here for you. Robert you're always quiet, that's just who you are, but ever since Damien Fitzgerald came into the picture, something is different. You aren't withdrawn, you're almost comatose. What the hell is going on?"
"Comatose?" Robert couldn't help himself: he laughed. "What the hell, Krystal? Did you really think I would fall for this 'you're worried about me'
look, or the concern flooding your voice?" He huffed out another laugh and looked at his friend.
She wasn't smiling. In fact, she had her arms folded over her chest and she looked like she was ready to rip into him. He'd never seen her so pissed off.
"Excuse me." A sultry male voice grabbed both their attentions. The waiter was staring at Krystal with a playful grin on his face. "Krystal?" he asked.
"Bentley? Oh my God, when did you start working here? I haven't seen you in ages." Krystal was out of her chair and kissing the man before Robert had time to blink.
Bentley brought them their drink order and chatted with Krystal. He finally took their food order and left. Krystal was smiling from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkled, and she kept running her finger around the edge of her glass.
Robert was surprised to see this side of her.
"So, old boyfriend?" He teased. "I think Bentley's hot. Any chance he might bat—"
"No." Krystal glared at Robert. "Don't think I'm going to let you change the subject either."
Robert smiled and let her badger him until Bentley returned with their dinner. It was a good evening, and he was enjoying himself. There would be time enough later to decide what to do about Damien.
His apartment was dark when Robert let himself in. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he was glad to be home. He turned on the lights and stripped as he went. By the time he made it to the bedroom, he was only in his boxers. A hot shower sounded fantastic. After he stripped the rest of the way, he stood in the bathroom, naked. He gazed at himself in the mirror while the water in the shower warmed. He needed steam to release the tension in his shoulders and back.
What did Damien see when he looked at him, Robert wondered. He knew Damien noticed the size of him—he'd certainly mentioned it on enough occasions—but did he find Robert attractive? Robert rubbed his palm over his stomach. It was flat, the muscles well defined, but is that what Damien liked in a lover?
Robert slapped his forehead and laughed at himself. He must be crazy.
Damien Fitzgerald could have any man he wanted, and Robert was the last man on earth Damien would want.
The shower worked wonders on his body and even helped ease his mind. By the time the water was growing cold, Robert was relaxed enough to go to bed. He had slept little in the last forty-eight hours. After toweling off, he slipped on his sleep pants. Robert tugged the covers over himself and was getting comfortable when his cell phone rang.
"Shit." He groaned and plucked the phone off the night stand. "Hello." He was not in the mood to talk to whomever it was.
"Robert, it's Justin."
Robert sat up immediately; he heard the urgency in Justin's voice. "What's wrong?"
"It's Damien." Justin hesitated for a moment, and then whispered, "He had a call tonight from the stalker. He's shook up, Robert, and, well, you always seem to be able to calm him, so I thought...."
"I'm on my way."
Justin answered the door to Damien's suite. He motioned Robert in and held his finger to his lips. "He's sleeping at last," he whispered.
"What happened?" Robert asked as they made their way to the sofa.
"I'm not sure. After you two got back, Damien and I talked for a while. Then he said he was coming up to work on some assignment and he'd be down later for dinner. He never showed. Around eleven, I got really worried, so I came looking for him. I knew he hadn't left the building, but he wouldn't answer the door." Justin laid his head back and rubbed his eyes.
"I brought a passkey with me. I would let myself in if he didn't answer.
Finally, he replied and I came in to find him sitting on the floor in the dark."
Justin sighed. "It wasn't another panic attack, but he was so silent it scared me. I thought he had finally snapped."
Justin relayed that Damien had eventually told him what the stalker had said. Justin was sure Damien was in shock. He'd persuaded him to drink a cup of tea and then helped him into bed. Justin had called Robert as soon as Damien fell asleep, and here they were.
"I was afraid of what would happen if he had another nightmare or panic attack and you weren't here." Justin shrugged. Robert recognized the fear and exhaustion in his eyes.
"Let Marcus know what has happened, then get some rest," Robert said as he rose from the sofa and walked to the bedroom door. He opened it softly and peered in at Damien's sleeping form. "I'll stay, in case he wakes up."
Justin nodded, slipped out the door and closed it behind him. Robert looked at Damien again and saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. He left the bedroom door ajar and made himself comfortable on the couch. Not much later, he dozed off into a light sleep.
The feather-like touch of fingertips woke him gently. They stroked over his face and down his neck. They ghosted the outer rim of his ear and ran through his hair. Robert thought he was dreaming. He reached out his own hand, keep
ing his eyes closed, not wanting the dream to end. When Robert did open his eyes, he found it wasn't a dream. There was dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, and Robert could see Damien smiling down at him.
"You're here." Damien said, kissing him.
Robert wanted to give in to the kiss. Let passion overwhelm him and seep into his soul. What started as tender and sweet turned to hunger and need very quickly. Robert pressed his tongue between Damien's lips. He didn't
rush it. He took his time to taste everything when Damien let him. This was not the time to lose control. Robert sensed that Damien needed him to go slow, but restraining his rising desire would not be easy. Robert eased away from Damien to catch his breath. He needed to confirm that Damien was okay with where this was going.
Taking Damien's face between his palms, he kissed his lips softly. "Are you sure?"
Damien didn't hesitate. "Yes, I'm sure."
"We don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. All you have to do is tell me." Robert wanted to reassure Damien.
A crease formed between Damien's arched eyebrows, and he smirked. "This couch is a bit small for two grown men." He winked, then said, "Why don't we take this to the bedroom?"
Robert didn't want to move. He feared Damien would change his mind with the few steps it took to move. He searched Damien's eyes for any indication he was having second thoughts. Nothing changed except that, this time, Damien was standing beside him, offering a hand up. Robert took Damien's hand and followed him to the bedroom door. He stopped. Damien turned to look at him with a frown.
"Oh no you don't," Damien said. "I know exactly what I'm doing and I want to be with you." He dropped Robert's hand, then wrapped his arms around Robert’s waist drawing him close. "Can we pretend that my past is in the past and has nothing to do with us?" Damien pleaded. "I need you."
Undressing with a new lover was always embarrassing for Robert. In most cases, he was larger than other men he had been with. Naked was a totally different thing though. He felt exposed and unsure. Some guys found his body a huge turn on, but there had been a few in his life who'd changed their minds as soon as the clothes came off. He was praying the whole time that it wouldn't be that way with Damien. Damien's past was a problem.
