by Jerry Cole
“I can pay, that’s not a problem.”
The woman shrugged. “Whatever, I can get more sent from Florida. They ain’t breeding well right now anyway.”
One pair of birds were huddled together in their corner of the cage. The other cage had one bird hiding in its hut, and the other bird drinking from a disgusting-looking water bowl.
“Top pair is established and has been giving me good clutches. The bottom pair hasn’t done anything yet since the male’s old mate died and he hasn’t bonded to the new one yet. Haven’t had the female long, but she’s young and from a good line.”
Jensen’s heart was pounding as he looked at the birds. This is where Ginger had been kept. This is what the poor bird had been subjected to. It was horrific. He forced himself to stay calm and collected. He couldn’t panic, not now. “How much for the bottom pair, then? My brother can take a gamble. He’s had real good luck before.”
The woman rubbed her chin. “$7000.”
“$5000.” Jensen just wanted to give her the money and run, but he knew that he had to play out the part. She would expect some haggling, and so he would give it to her.
“$6500.”
“$6000.”
“Deal.” She stuck her hand out, and, stomach knotting, Jensen shook it.
“I can give you cash right now, it’s just in my truck.”
She grinned, and her teeth were stained yellow. “I’ll wrestle the birds into a box for you while you go get it.”
Jensen desperately wanted to tell her not to hurt the birds, but he knew it wouldn’t make any difference and could blow his cover if he said too much, so he kept quiet and made his way to Blake’s truck and retrieved the cash from under the front seat where he’d stashed it. He counted out the six thousand dollars and stowed the rest, then made his way back to the barn, heart pounding. He did not want to go back into the den of misery he’d seen, but he had no choice.
As he opened the side door to enter again, the woman approached him holding two milk crates taped together, with a bird in each crate. The top crate was sealed with a piece of plywood, and the birds barely fit.
“Here you go. Best put them in the truck bed, they’ll shit all over the cab.” She set the crates down and held out a hand for the cash, which he handed over. She pulled a fraud detection marker out of her coat, tested some bills, and then, satisfied, stuffed them in her pocket. “Good doing business with you.”
“Yep, same to you.” He picked up the crates and made his way out to the truck slowly, trying to look as though he didn’t care that he had two abused, unhappy animals trapped in unsuitable containers in freezing conditions. He carefully placed the birds on a towel in the back seat of the truck and buckled the mess in, praying it held until he made it back to Blake’s.
The drive was nerve-wracking on the snow and ice, but he made it just as the sun was almost set. The birds had been quiet in their makeshift cages, only making nervous-sounding clicking or cooing noises a few times when he went over bumps. As soon as he pulled to a stop, Blake, Sheriff Winston, and Jeanie came out of the house, both looking anxious.
“Did it work?” Blake asked when he opened the door.
“See for yourself. Careful, they aren’t really packed very effectively.”
“Oh, holy shit, are those milk crates?!” Jeanie looked appalled as Blake carefully extracted the crates from the truck and hurried inside with them.
“Yep. Assuming your camera worked, we have plenty of good footage of the inside of the barn now,” Jensen replied grimly. “It was horrific.”
“I was afraid of that.” They followed Blake inside and shut the door to keep the blowing cold out.
Ginger was in her enormous wrought iron cage dancing back and forth. “Rosso! Rosso! Pretty bird!”
“Ginger!” The bottom milk crate replied in a bird’s voice that was somewhat scratchier and harder to understand than Ginger’s. “Ginger!”
The third bird was screaming in response, apparently just to scream.
Blake looked between Jensen, Jeanie, Sheriff Winston, Ginger, and the milk crate. “I guess that answers that question.”
“Rosso!”
“Should we let Ginger out?” Jeanie asked.
“No, I need to check these two over, and they’ll really need to be quarantined for a while, hard as that’s going to be. From what Jens described, I’m concerned they could have some communicable diseases.”
“I’d be shocked if they didn’t have something from being in that place. They had cages stacked up, so birds were pooping on each other…who the fuck does that?” Jensen was trying to keep it together, but now that he was far away from Longmont and the horror of the barn, he was cracking. Blake noticed and hugged him tightly.
“We’re going to make their lives hell, don’t worry,” Sheriff Winston stated grimly. “They’ll be really sorry they set up shop in Colorado.”
Jensen nodded and carefully removed the camera and equipment from his body to hand to Jeanie. She took it, mouth set in a firm line.
Blake returned to his task with the birds, carefully removing one and then the other from the crate. They had clipped wings, but their wing feathers were so destroyed it was unlikely they could have flown anyway. Both birds stayed on the towel on the exam table, huddled together and obviously terrified.
Jeanie set about getting photos of the birds and the milk crates. Blake placed one bird in a large cat carrier so he could examine the bird with the more severe plucking problem. Jeanie took video as he did his exam.
“I’m thinking we need to have Mich look at both of them. I texted him earlier, and he said he’d head up as soon as he’s done at work. I’m still not an exotic vet, and he’s a better judge of this stuff. He can also help me get samples for the lab. I’m not gonna ask anyone else here to chance getting bit.” He looked at Jensen. “Do you know if this was the male or the female?”
Jensen pulled some grimy carbon copy paper out of his coat pocket and unfolded it. “Says the blue band is the male and the green band is the female.”
“This is the female then. We should scan both of them for a microchip, in case they’re stolen or something.”
Jeanie raised her eyebrows. “Is that common?”
“We were told in vet school that it happens, but how often, I couldn’t tell you.”
He finished with the first bird and examined the second. He was in somewhat better shape, and was a little less panicked and stressed.
“Hi Rosso,” Blake chanced as he looked at the bird’s eyes with a penlight.
“Hi Rosso,” the bird replied, voice a little less clear than Ginger’s.
“Good bird…good.”
Jeanie snorted. “Well, you have the matched set now. What about the other female?”
“I’m not going to worry about any of that until we are sure these birds are healthy. I’m really concerned about how wet their breathing sounds.”
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a flurry of activity. Jensen changed clothes and then went to keep Ginger company in the living room as a succession of people came in and out of the house. He was feeling overwhelmed and anxious about the situation, and desperately wanted to talk to Blake, or his therapist, or just go back to bed.
He must have dozed off on the couch because he woke up hours later in a dark living room with Ginger sleeping on his head. He could hear Mich and Blake talking quietly in the kitchen, and he could smell something that might have been beef cooking. He carefully dislodged Ginger and set her on her perch, then went to investigate. He heard crunching, which meant Ginger immediately went to her food bowl.
Both men looked up, and Blake smiled when he came in.
“I was wondering if I should wake you up before we eat or not.”
“Yeah, no, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Jensen murmured, rubbing at his eyes. “I think everything just caught up to me, that’s all.”
“You didn’t miss much. Mich looked the birds over, and he’s g
oing to take them down to Ft. Collins with him. I’m sorry we can’t put Rosso with Ginger, but it seems like a bad idea to risk getting her sick again. He’s getting a group ready to help with the raids.”
“The school already volunteered their resources. It’s good practice for the students.” Mich took a swig of his beer.
Jensen nodded and moved to stand close to Blake’s side, and Blake put an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “That’s good that there will be a lot of vets available, at least. Are you going?” Jensen looked up at Blake.
“Only if they call me and ask. I’m really not qualified. There are a few alpacas and horses on the property too, but by all accounts, they’re all healthy. If there’s anything wrong with any large animals, I can head out there.”
“What are we going to do with Rosso and the other bird…? Do we even know her name?”
Mich looked at Blake and smirked, and Blake rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well, I was thinking of keeping at least Rosso…maybe both of them. We looked at the paperwork you brought and checked both birds for microchips, but no luck on her name. Birds are usually happier with other birds anyway…”
“What he’s saying is that he’s a sucker and you’re now dating him and three cockatoos,” Mich laughed. “If he doesn’t decide to keep the other female, I might keep her. She’s a little more skittish than Rosso and Ginger, but she’s also a lot younger. With some work, she will probably settle down.”
Jensen nodded. “Okay, that’s fair. And hey, I’m kinda finding I like parrots.”
“I’m glad because more than one relationship has ended because one person loves birds and the other doesn’t.” Mich finished his beer. “They’re a bit of an acquired taste.”
The oven beeped and Blake spun around to pull a lasagna out. He set it on the stove to cool for a few minutes, then turned back around. “I’ve always been confused by people that get rid of a pet they’ve had their entire lives instead of ending a relationship. If a person doesn’t like your animals…are they really that compatible?”
Jensen shrugged. “My mother only ever had miniature Pomeranians, and they weren’t too friendly, so I honestly have no idea what kind of pets I like. But Ginger and I get along well, so that’s something.”
“Yeah, Poms can be kind of neurotic. Any animal can, really. I like exotics because you see a lot of different things. Blake just sticks his arm up horse butts a lot.”
“Horse butts, cow butts, you name it. Lots of butts.” Blake held up a wine glass and Jensen nodded, so Blake poured him a glass of red wine. “But I like my work. Just wish it weren’t so damn hard on my leg.”
“Yeah, I imagine getting kicked by ungulates every couple of weeks isn’t too good for that.”
Blake just shrugged. “I’ve been lucky so far.” He pulled Jensen close again.
Chapter Ten
The raid of the Lee barn took place two days later and involved police and agents from several counties as well as the Colorado Bureau of Investigation. It was enough of a big deal that it made the local news in Denver, and Jensen was a little unnerved to find out that they obtained the footage he’d filmed inside the barn, complete with his voice. He wasn’t exactly sure where Eric was now, or if he was still looking for him, but he hoped that enough time had passed that Eric had forgotten what he sounded like. Blake had been concerned and had insisted that Jensen stay with him as long as he liked, on the assumption that it would be that much harder to locate Jensen at a house he had no financial connection to.
Jensen had agreed, partly out of worry and paranoia, and partly because he really, really liked being around Blake, and he suspected that his house would feel a lot emptier and lonelier than it had before. And, really, he kind of wanted to see if Blake fucking him felt as good as it had the other way around. He strongly suspected it might be the best sex of his life.
Most of the animals removed from the Lee property needed immediate veterinary attention, so huge vans drove back and forth to Ft. Collins all day, and veterinary students and volunteer veterinarians from all over the Denver-metro area came to help. It was pandemonium, but the end result was as satisfying as it could be.
They found a lot of dead birds, mainly budgies and cockatiels, and Jensen could only wish that he had gone earlier. It probably wouldn’t have made much difference, according to Blake, but they would never know.
That evening found the two of them in town, finally having a normal date and dinner at an Italian bistro, when Jensen’s phone began to ring. He ignored it at first, then sighed and pulled it out when Blake raised his eyebrows.
“I’m sure it’s just another political robocall or something,” Jensen glanced at the display and froze for a moment.
“What, it isn’t Eric is it?” Blake asked.
“No, he’s blocked on this number. It’s Sophia. Do you mind if I answer?”
“No, no go ahead.” Blake nodded encouragingly.
Jensen had explained the entire situation with his best friends the day before. He’d mentioned wanting to go down and see them in Denver, and asked if Blake would be willing to come along. Blake agreed, despite his discomfort. They wouldn’t be in downtown Denver, and he recognized that maybe it was time to start pushing his own boundaries more. Jensen had also asked, rather pointedly, if Blake wanted him along next time he visited a specialist about his leg. Blake had been briefly annoyed and ready to argue, but a spasm of pain in his hip had hit and even he had to acknowledge that he couldn’t go on like this forever.
Jensen answered the phone, grateful that they were in a quiet corner away from any of the other diners. “Hey, Soph.”
“Jensen, why the fuck were you undercover buying a cockatoo?” Her voice was both amused and exasperated. “Manny and I recognized your voice the second we heard it. What the hell?”
Jensen laughed and put his head in his hand. “Uh, well, that’s kind of a long story.”
“Uh huh, well I hope you realize we’re driving up there tomorrow and you’re going to tell us the whole thing.” Her tone left no room for argument.
He laughed again. “Okay, that’s fair. I can meet you in town when you get in.”
“You don’t live in town?” Now she was suspicious. “Did you go off and become an actual hermit?”
“No! No, I’m just staying with someone who lives further out and it’s not an easy place to find. I’ll text you the address of the place I’m renting and meet you there.”
She paused. “Are you worried about Eric? Is that why you’re not staying at your house?”
“A bit…but that’s not the only reason.” He glanced up at Blake, who was sipping his glass of red wine with an innocent expression.
“Oh, so the person you’re staying with is the guy you started dating, then.”
“Yeah…though I’m just using him for his real estate.”
“He’s there with you?”
“Yeah, we’re having a nice dinner.”
“Oh well, fuck, then hang up on me. I’ll text you in the morning when we get on the road. Enjoy your dinner and say hi to whoever this guy is.” She hung up.
Jensen dropped the phone back in his pocket, snorting.
“I heard most of what she said. She sounds…interesting.”
“Intense and a bit much. That’s how people usually describe her.” Jensen took a sip of his own martini, and spotted the server coming over with their food. She set down a plate of mussels in cream sauce in front of Blake, and penne con vodka in front of Jensen. “But she’s always, always had my back. And she didn’t blink when I called her out of the blue a few days ago. Not many people would handle what happened as gracefully as she did…and I know she and Manny both desperately want to say ‘I told you so’ about Eric.”
“You think so?” Blake asked, taking a bite of his food.
“No question. You can’t even imagine how much they both hated him. And Sophia really loves to be right. That she’s keeping all of that under w
raps and being understanding is…a lot. I know that makes her sound horrible, but I swear she isn’t. Manny is the same way. They’re both very good at reading people, which is why I was especially dumb to ignore their concerns about Eric.”
“Would she know if Eric recognized your voice? I actually don’t even know how you met him…if you had mutual friends or what.” Blake moved his good leg so he was brushing knees with Jensen.
Jens shook his head. “No, I met him through some other friends. Different crowd. I don’t really talk to any of them anymore because I mostly knew them through work. I’ve known Sophia and Manny since middle school.”
“I have an alarm system. I’ll turn it on from now on. I had it installed after someone broke in and stole a bunch of ketamine from the clinic a few years ago, but I got sloppy about turning it on whenever I’m home. I don’t actually keep any controlled substances at my home clinic anymore, and I doubt Eric will figure out where you are, but I don’t want to run that risk.”
Jensen nodded. “Thank you, Blake. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re worth it.” Blake reached across the table and squeezed Jensen’s hand.
Jensen just blushed and downed the rest of his martini.
***
They fell into bed almost immediately when they got home, and Blake had Jensen’s cock in his mouth within seconds. He had not deep-throated anyone in a very long time, but he was doing his level best to get as much of his cock in his mouth as he possibly could. Jensen had his fingers in Blake’s hair, obviously resisting the urge to grip harder. Blake was fairly sure that he could come from just listening to Jensen moaning.
“Blake…oh fuck…Blake, I’m going to come…”
Blake hummed and swallowed, going down as far as he could. Jensen was moaning louder now and shaking slightly. He collapsed backwards onto the bed after a few moments, laughing.
“Oh fuck, you’re going to kill me.” He looked over at Blake, who wiped his face off with a t-shirt from the floor. “Are you up to fucking me? Because I really, really want to feel your dick in my ass.”
