Dark of the Moon

by Shannon West

  When Hawke’s finger found Jace’s prostate, Jace couldn’t seem to be still or quiet. He was moving back and forth and groaning loudly. One more swipe of Hawke’s finger across his prostate did it. With another loud groan, Jace climaxed, shooting cum everywhere, but mostly on his own chest. He fell back on the bed next to Hawke, exhausted and totally satisfied. “Damn,” was all he could manage to say.

  Hawke chuckled and said, “Yeah, that about covers it.” They lay there, side by side on the bed, satisfied and spent. That was the good thing having sex with another man—they never expected cuddling afterward.

  The flesh and blood man in bed next to him made a whimpering sound just then and turned over, his feet tangling around Hawke’s. Startled out of sleep, Hawke couldn’t quite figure out what was real and what had only been a dream. Then Jace scooted closer and wrapped a warm arm around Hawke’s waist, rubbing his face against Hawke’s chest and sighing in his sleep.

  Okay, so maybe the cuddling wasn’t totally bad. He stroked Jace’s hair, thinking how soft it was. He could get used to this. Wondering if his damn dreams would become less vivid now that he had the real thing beside him, he came awake enough to realize the sheet over him was wet and sticky. Yeah, not working out so far.

  Chapter Four

  After his shower late that afternoon, Hawke eased into his bedroom to get dressed, trying to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake Jace up. Hawke had finally forced himself out of bed after a day of restless sleep. He’d awakened twice to check on Jace, once gently shaking him awake to help him out of the clothes he’d fallen asleep in. The last time, Jace had been groggy and disoriented so he’d soothed him a bit, helped him into the bathroom and hovered around outside until he reappeared. Then he gave him more of the Advil and eased out of bed before going back to his own bedroom.

  It was past three in the afternoon, but he needed to speak to Spencer about his brother before nightfall, so he’d decided to get dressed and go into the office to check on things while he was up. He needed to find Jace some clothes for when he woke up later, though a naked Jace wouldn’t be hard to look at.

  He reminded himself of his own vow not to be a pig and rambled through his drawers looking for something that might fit the boy. Jace’s shirt had been so ripped and stained with blood he’d thrown it away. Head wounds always had a tendency to bleed a lot, but he didn’t want Jace to see it and freak out. The khaki pants he’d been wearing weren’t too bad—a few grass stains, but he’d let Jace make that call.

  He’d put them in the clothes hamper and found a pair of University of Alabama sweats that had been a Christmas present from his aunt, who fancied him as perennially twelve years old. They were much too small for him, so he figured they might fit Jace well enough.

  Leaving a note in case Jace got up before he returned, he left the house and drove into town. When Hawk got to the office, Barton was playing solitaire on his computer.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff. How’d it go last night?”

  “You tell me. Have we had any calls about any problems?”

  “No, sir. Quiet as a tomb. Even the radio’s been quiet. A few of the mates came in to get some groceries over at the store but that’s about it. I guess everybody has been sleeping in today. I know my wife didn’t say two words to me this morning. She was in a terrible mood.”

  And that was different how? Hawke nodded. “Have you seen my cousin, Spencer, or heard anything from him today?”

  “No, sir. Should I have?”

  “No, I was just wondering. I’m going to try to call him. I’ll be in my office if you need me for anything.” He turned and walked in, closing the door behind him. The fewer that knew about the attack last night, the better, as far as he was concerned, though in Blackwater Falls it was hard to keep anything private.

  Dropping into his chair, he took out his cell phone and dialed his cousin’s number. When a groggy-sounding Spencer answered, Hawke told him he needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

  “So talk.”

  “I need you to come in, Spencer.”

  “For what, Hawke? I’m still in bed. Damn it, I had a rough night.”

  It was all Hawke could do not to drop the phone and run across town to drag him out of bed and throttle him. “Apparently. Now drag your sorry ass out of the bed and be here in an hour.” Hawke’s voice had dropped down to the low growl never far from the surface during the three days of the dark moon and Spencer went very quiet.

  “This sounds serious.”

  “It is serious. You coming or not?”

  He sighed deeply. “Of course. Just let me get some clothes on and I’ll be there. Gotta grab something to eat first, you know. But then I’m coming.”

  “Good.” Hawke hung up, realizing he’d been abrupt, but damn Spencer and his mother. Jace could have been killed. He put his face in hands and sent up a silent prayer for a peaceful night tonight. If people would just control their damn kids! Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

  Hawke busied himself with paperwork until about forty-five minutes later, when Spencer strolled into Hawke’s office, looking so rested and relaxed, Hawke wanted to knock his damn head off. He scowled at his cousin, who simply raised his eyebrows and smiled, saying, “What’s up, man? What the hell is the big emergency?”

  “I’ll tell you what the big emergency is. You and your mama let that crazy-ass brother of yours get away from you last night.”

  A cloud seemed to pass over Spencer’s face. “Travis? Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh shit.’ What happened to ‘I’m going to stay right with him every minute, Hawke.’ What the hell, Spencer? I was counting on you!”

  Spencer’s face turned red and he shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, Hawke, I only took my eyes off him for about five minutes, ten at the most—I think. I got a little distracted with some deer. Then when I managed to realize Travis had given me the slip, I rounded him up. And, anyway, nothing happened.”

  “Really? Then that wasn’t him I saw standing over a guy that he’d just knocked down in the roadway, about to rip out his throat?”

  Spencer blanched, and Hawke almost felt sorry for him—almost. “Oh my God, Hawke. Did he—did he hurt somebody?”

  “Not too much. The man hit his head when he fell. He got a concussion, but the doc said it was mild. It could have been a whole lot worse than it was. He was standing on the guy’s chest when I stopped him.”

  Spencer blanched again. “Where is this man now? Does he know what hit him?”

  “He’s at my house and I’m not sure what he remembers just yet. Jace had car trouble and was walking toward town for help. When I got to him, Travis was crouched over him with his teeth bared. He was knocked out when his head hit the road.”

  “Oh, fuck!”

  “Exactly. Do you think that you can control the little asshole tonight, or do I need to lock him up?”

  “Hell, yes, I’ll control him if I have to chain him to me. Damn, Hawke, I’m so sorry. Ever since he started hanging out with Holden MacKay, he’s gotten ten times worse.”

  “Holden MacKay? What the hell? Holden’s too old for Travis!”

  “He’s eight years older, actually, but way too experienced for a boy like Travis.”

  “Yeah! Not to mention he’s probably selling these boys drugs along with the illegal liquor. I can’t believe your parents let him see that jerk.”

  “Well, they don’t let him exactly. Travis is twenty-one now, and my parents are afraid that if they hassle him too much about it, he’ll move out and maybe get in worse trouble.”

  Hawke shook his head. “Damn, Spencer.”

  “I know. But wait till I tell Travis. I think it’ll scare the shit out of him.”

  “Good, it needs to. I’m counting on that, as a matter of fact. As far as I know, that was the only incident we had, but that was too damn close.”

  “Thank God it wasn’t any worse. Can we at least pay the doctor for this guy? Is there anything else I can do?”

 
; “You can pay the doc. And call Camron MacKay to pick up his truck. You can pay his fee too.” He tossed over Jace’s keys he’d found in the pocket of the khakis earlier. “Ask Camron to see if he can fix Jace’s car while he’s at it.”

  “Okay. So Jace, huh? Hey, is he that young guy I saw yesterday coming out of the diner? Good looking, blond? Nice ass…”

  “Yes, and leave his ass out of this,” Hawke broke in, almost snarling at him.

  “Oh, I see.” Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Private property, huh? Who is this guy, Hawke? I never saw him around here before.”

  “A census taker, he said. He just showed up at the office yesterday, and I sent him back down the mountain, but something happened to his truck I guess. Anyway, he was headed back here for help when Travis saw him. If I hadn’t heard the scream…”

  Spencer paled again and shuddered. “I got the picture. But did you know him before or something? You seem kind of—“

  “Pissed? Outraged? Horrified? Yes, all of the above! Damn it, Spencer, I think he’s my mate!”

  Hawke hadn’t thought it possible for Spencer’s eyes to get any wider. “Oh fuck,” he said again. “Hawke, I…”

  “Save it. I got there in time, but we might not be so lucky if anything like this happens again. It can’t happen again, Spencer. Are we clear?” He heard his voice drop into the growl again, but did nothing to stop the low rumbling coming from his throat this time.

  “Yeah, of course, of course.” Spencer scrambled to his feet and began backing up slowly. “I’ll just uh, I’ll go on home and tell Mom and Dad, okay? I mean, about us needing to keep Travis out of trouble, you know. See you later, Hawke. I’m really sorry!” He turned and made a break for the door, and Barton came to fill the doorway after he left.

  “Well, you put the fear of God into him, Sheriff. I, uh, I couldn’t help hearing. Your mate, huh? That blond kid from yesterday?”

  Hawke sighed. He should have closed the door after Spencer came in, but what the hell? The news would be all over town soon anyway. “Yeah, it seems so. I don’t guess it would do any good to tell you to keep this confidential, would it?”

  Barton flushed. “Yeah, sure thing, Sheriff. I won’t say a word. Unless, of course, Melinda finds out about it. I can’t really keep anything from her.”

  Hawke rolled his eyes before he could stop himself and Barton flushed.

  “Well, damn, Sheriff, you know how she is. If she found out I was keeping something from her…” He blanched. “Well, let’s just say she wouldn’t like it too much.”

  “What’s she going to do, Barton, whip your ass?”

  When Barton flushed a deep, ugly red, Hawke stiffened, shaking his head. “Oh shit, please don’t say any more. I’m begging here.”

  Barton frowned at him, turning away quickly and went back to his desk, leaving Hawke sitting in his chair, slightly stunned. The mental picture of Melinda in full dominatrix gear whaling on Barton’s naked ass refused to leave his brain. Did Barton wear a collar? Or maybe a slave harness? A plug up his…? Hawke got up quickly from his desk and left the office, trying not to look at Barton and calling over his shoulder. “I’m leaving now and going home. Call if you need anything.” Hawke took off across the street, wishing he could pour some bleach inside his head.

  Hawke headed toward the diner, thinking he’d get some food to take home in case Jace felt like eating. He dreaded having to deal with Marie. She was quite possibly the most ill-tempered female in town, next to Melinda. He had found that it was best to avoid most of the females, if at all possible, but unfortunately, as well as being the only waitress, Marie owned the diner.

  Walking in, she was the first thing he saw, frowning over the counter as usual. She looked like she might have just rolled out of bed and was sipping at a cup of coffee. “Hey, Marie. I need a couple of takeout plates.”

  “A couple? Why? You got company?”

  As if it’s any of your business. “No, I just thought I’d take some extra for later,” he said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

  He was looking at the menu, trying to decide what Jace might like to have when she said, “Well, what’ll it be Hawke? I don’t have all day, you know. We’re not even officially open, though that didn’t keep you from bargin’ your way on in here.”

  Hawke gritted his teeth, but managed to hold his tongue. He looked at her and smiled pleasantly. “Just give me whatever you have, Marie. Maybe leftovers from yesterday?”

  “Got some leftover meatloaf and mac and cheese. Maybe green beans.”

  “That would be great.”

  “You want any dessert?”

  “Let me see…”

  “Lord, Hawke. It’s not like the menu ever changes. Chocolate cake or apple pie. Do you want any or not?”

  Resisting the urge to throw the menu in her face and stalk out, Hawke made himself reply calmly. “Chocolate cake and apple pie ought to do it.”

  She turned without a word and went back in the kitchen. In about five minutes, Marie was back with the Styrofoam takeout plates, which she plopped down on the counter. Hawke paid her and left, happy to be out of there. Marie didn’t even have a nodding acquaintance with the term customer service. He got in his car, placing the dinners carefully on the seat beside him, and headed out of town toward his cabin. He was anxious to check on Jace and make sure he was okay.

  ****

  Jace slept most of the afternoon, waking only to get a drink of water and go to the bathroom again. He vaguely remembered being helped to the bathroom earlier, which was mortifying since he was naked. He found the sweatpants by the bed and slipped them on. He couldn’t help wondering who’d stripped him and hoped like hell he hadn’t done it himself, right in front of the handsome sheriff. Not that he would mind getting naked with the sheriff, actually, but not while he was unconscious and unable to enjoy it.

  He didn’t feel rested, though, because his head ached and his sleep had been full of unsettling dreams. He’d had crazy ones, jerking awake in terror and then falling back to sleep, only to have another. Some of them hadn’t been nightmares, though. Those were the ones that involved the sheriff, usually naked and doing wicked things to him in bed.

  The others—the ones that involved big, monstrous cats that looked like mountain lions but were as big as a jungle cat, attacking and mauling him—left him sweaty and shaken. At times, though, he seemed to have gotten it all mixed up with the sheriff dreams, because in that one there was a huge cat lying beside him, as if protecting him. In those dreams he was absolutely sure that the mountain lion was really Sheriff Hawke Sutherland. He blamed it on the head injury.

  Jace was awake, but still in bed when he heard Hawke’s vehicle pulling around to the back of the house. He heard the car door slam and then the keys jangling as Hawke unlocked the door. It was stupid, Jace knew, but he felt a little excited that Sheriff Sutherland was home, and got up to go into the other room to greet him.

  He was a little dizzy, but otherwise steadier on his feet than when he’d gone to the bathroom earlier. Wearing the sweatpants, Jace padded barefoot down the hall and into the kitchen just as the sheriff was putting Styrofoam containers on the counter. He looked at Jace so long, his gaze raking over his naked chest that Jace got nervous. He shifted from one foot to another.

  “Um, hey,” Jace said softly.

  The sheriff cleared his throat and dropped his eyes back down to the counter. His tone, when he spoke to him, though, was friendly. “Hey, yourself. I see you’re up. How are you feeling?”

  Jace almost looked behind himself to see who the sheriff was talking to. The last time he clearly remembered talking to him, the sheriff was rudely telling him to get out of town and not come back for a week. When Jace saw the sheriff staring at him expectantly, he realized he really was talking to him.

  “Oh, uh, I feel okay. Thanks. I, uh…I slept most of the day, I guess. Listen, did I dream it or did you find me in the woods this morning and bring me to your own house? This is y
our house, right?”

  “What do you remember, Jace?”

  “Not much. I left town like you said, but halfway down the mountain, my truck quit on me.” He broke off, looking alarmed. “Oh shit, my truck. I need to go after it. I left it right in the middle of the road.”

  “Sit down and relax, Jace. It’s been taken care of. I sent someone down to pick it up and bring it back up the mountain.”

  Jace fell down on one of the stools at the bar in relief. “Oh, thanks. I appreciate that. I’ll have to call Huntsville for a wrecker, I guess, unless there’s some mechanic up here, by chance?”

  The sheriff nodded. “There is. I asked him to take a look at it for you.”

  Jace looked a little confused. “Oh. That’s uh…I don’t have much money for a lot of repairs, actually. If he could just tell me before he does anything.”

  “Don’t worry. No one will cheat you here. He’s a friend of mine, so it’s no charge.”

  “Oh…really? Man. That’s very…thanks.”

  The sheriff pushed a Styrofoam box toward him. “Eat something. I got meatloaf and mac and cheese. Some dessert in there too.”

  Jace opened the container and picked up a fork. “I guess you got this at the diner. They have great food, but that lady that works in there is…kind of a…”

  “Harridan? Shrew? Bitch from hell?” Hawke rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, all of the above.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jace said, feeling his face getting hot as he laughed at the sheriff’s words. “You’re not related to her, are you?”

  “Unfortunately, yes, but only distantly, and I don’t like to think about it.”

  Jace felt himself flushing again. “Oh, I’m sorry, I…”