by Laura Day
She answered by pressing back against him, seating him deep inside of her in a slick, smooth, hot motion. He shuddered as she slid him all the way inside of her. This was his favorite moment—not the flirting before, not the orgasm at the end. This moment, this second of joining, when they both trembled, acknowledging the moment that they were sharing.
She moved first, pulling back from him and then sliding back, her thighs slapping against his, and on the second stroke he met her, his hands tight on her hips, showing her what he wanted. She sighed with pleasure and leaned down, her head supported on one hand, her other coming back to find her clit.
He felt her tensing around him as he throbbed into her, fast and hard, dancing so close to the edge already. He waited for her, though, waited with his teeth set into his lower lip, until she cried out, her fingers moving like lightning bolts over her clit, her pussy pounding hard and fast around him, pulling him deeper in. He couldn’t contain himself, then, and he came after her, pushing hard into her body, holding the girl he’d cared about for so very many years as she finally trusted him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Caroline gave in. She’d been staring at the clock in the guest bedroom for an hour, and she wasn’t sleeping. At home she would have pulled out a book or played a game on her phone or done something else to distract herself from the insomnia until her brain gave up and admitted that it was time to sleep. The room that Jack and Missy had given her was gorgeous, but it was a guest room, and there was nothing here for her.
She sighed and threw back the covers. She’d get a glass of water, and she’d seen bookcases in the living room before. Her own reading tastes were pretty broad, so she could find something there. She’d curl up on the couch and wait for sleep to find her.
She heard rustling in the kitchen before she got there. It made her heart pulse, and she had to focus for a minute. This wasn’t a movie. The sounds were too quiet to be someone who was trying to wake her up, and too loud to be someone who was trying to keep from being noticed. The odds were that either Jack or Missy were up, in the kitchen as well.
But she still crept down the hallway and through the living room, forcing herself to move as quietly as she could. She peaked around the corner into the kitchen, and then took a deep, sighing breath. Missy was standing in front of the refrigerator, staring as if she’d find the meaning of life in the crisper drawer.
“Hi,” Caroline said, hoping to keep from startling the other woman; it didn’t work at all. Missy jumped six inches in the air and yelped, her hand going to her chest.
“Holy crap,” she said, laughing as she realized who had surprised her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming down the hallway. Did I wake you?”
“No,” Caroline said, moving past Missy to sit down at the bar. “I couldn’t sleep. You?”
“Same.” Missy finally pulled a bottle of iced herbal tea out of the fridge. “Want some?”
“No, thank you. But water would be great.”
Missy nodded and poured a glass of iced water out of the freezer door, passing it over to Caroline. They were quiet for a few minutes, Caroline sitting at the bar, Missy hoisting herself up to sit on the counter, until Missy cleared her throat.
“Is he worth all this? Your Mason?”
Caroline hesitated, thinking back to the first time Mason had turned up in her office, clutching a handful of paperwork and a lot more chaos than she’d ever had to deal with. “I think so? I don’t honestly know yet. I know how I feel about him, and I know that I want to give it a try. I know he’s been through hell, and I know he hasn’t gotten anything like the kind of help that he needs for that yet. I don’t know if he ever will, and I don’t know if I can stay with him if he doesn’t. But—”
She trailed off, and Missy picked up the thread. “But you want to stick around and find out?”
Caroline nodded.
Missy smiled, her eyes far away. “It was like that for Jack and me. When I met him, it’d been so long since I dated a guy that I’d stopped bothering calling myself pansexual and just called myself a lesbian. It was easier and required less explanation. And then he came waltzing in at a party, catching my attention, and talking about numbers and accounting of all the fucking things.”
Missy laughed. “I used to be a punk rocker. I had safety pins in all my clothes, a dozen piercings in my ears. I still have ink all over my back. But the way his eyes lit up when he talked about balance sheets—I couldn’t walk away.”
“Was it hard?” Caroline asked. Missy cocked an eyebrow at her. “Adjusting to it all. To the different lives you two had led.”
Missy stared down into her tea for a bit. “It was never hard for the two of us, together. We got each other. He’d go to punk shows with me, and I’d listen while he railed about the most recent Forbes editorial. But our social circles… that part was hard. My punk friends were horrified that I was fucking The Man, my queer friends were convinced that I was just conforming because being queer was hard, and his friends thought I was some kind of prostitute who’d eaten his brain.”
She smiled. “In the end, I think we lost most of our friends from that time, and then when we couldn’t have kids…” A darkness passed over her face that dwarfed the darkness in the kitchen. “Well. We take care of each other. We have fewer friends than we did before, but the friends we have are the sort you’d lay down in traffic for.”
“Sounds good, in the end.”
“It is in indeed.”
They sat in silence for a little bit longer. And then Missy laughed, kicking out with her foot to gently jostle Caroline’s leg. “Why is it that women like us always end up sitting in kitchens talking about the menfolk? Let’s change the subject. What do you like to read?”
Caroline laughed and kicked back. “Fantasy, a lot of the time. Sci-fi. Doesn’t matter the flavor—urban, punk, cutting edge, classic, paranormal, whatever. I love it all.”
“Would a good book help you get some rest?”
Caroline nodded. “Or keep me busy until it’s socially acceptable to be awake. I’ll take either one.”
“Come with me,” Missy said, leading her into the living room. “Let me show you a few different things.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mason stroked his hand over Trish’s back one more time, watching her relax into sleep, and then stood up. His phone had rung half an hour ago, and he had a feeling he knew who was calling. He hit redial without bothering to check the voicemail that had been left.
“I hear you’re looking for me,” Declan said in place of “hello.”
“I hear you’ve been corrupting something that means more than the world to me,” Mason responded.
“Last I knew, you wanted a piece of that action.”
“Last I knew, you were a human being. An asshole, sure, but human.”
“I guess we were both lied to.” Declan said.
“I guess.”
“I don’t imagine you’ll take your bitch girlfriend and just wander off into the sunset like a good little cowboy?”
Mason found his mouth stretching into a cold smile. “Unlikely.”
“Shame. She’s going to find out that you’re a pretty shitty lay when you’re dead.”
He laughed, then; he couldn’t help it. “Really? Is that all, Declan? I'm sure you can do better than that.”
Declan ignored the jab. “So should I watch my back? Peek around all the corners in the world?”
“I’d prefer to discuss this face to face,” Mason said. “Like men.” He considered adding that he was giving Declan a lot of benefit of the doubt there, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Meet me at the garage in an hour,” he snarled, “and I’ll show you how men settle things.”
“No,” Mason said, as much as he wanted to agree. His plan was barely formed, but it was sound. Solid. “I don’t need a bunch of assholes cheering me on to kick your ass. Meet me at the high school. It’ll be deserted this time of night, and we can talk. See if we
can work this out.”
“You just don’t want anyone to see me kill you,” Declan said.
“Seems like you wouldn’t want anyone to see that, either,” Mason said. “I mean, your dirty cop can only cover up so much.”
Declan’s laugh was cold, and sharp enough to cut. “He can cover up more than you think. The death of some dirtbag biker? Easy as pie. I’ll see you in an hour, asshole. Say goodbye to your girlfriend.”
The connection died, and Mason took a long moment to control his sudden nausea. He’d killed before, in battle and in cold blood, but always in the context of the military. This was—different.
This was for his sister. For those other girls, who were probably so far beyond scared that “scared” sounded like a Disneyland vacation. Some people used up all their chances.
He rooted through Trish’s closet until he found a pair of heavy work gloves, then picked through her purse and her keychain until he found her apartment key. He let himself out, then locked the bolt from the outside and slipped the key back under the door. He’d find the rest of what he needed on his way.
***
Declan was punctual. An hour after their phone call, he arrived at the school, parking his bike next to Mason’s. Mason was leaning up against his bike, and he’d parked far away from the arc lighting that brightened the parking lot, even at midnight. “Declan,” he said. “Long time no see.”
“Mason.” Declan stepped off his bike and stood still, his posture loose and ready. “Where do you want to do this?”
“I assume only one of us is leaving alive.”
Even in the darkness, he could feel the edge of Declan’s grin. “You assume correct.”
Mason nodded shortly. “I’d say we should go back to the edge of the forest, then. Stay away from where anyone can see us.”
Declan agreed, which surprised Mason. He’d expected a lot more argument.
Declan rushed him as they approached the edge of the woods but Mason was ready. He let Declan swing first and then pulled both of them to the ground. He rolled with the motion, moving so he landed on top of Declan and smashed the man into the dirt.
He was tempted to let the bastard up, just so he could pummel the jerk a little longer, but that wasn’t necessary. He’d learned the hard way, on duty, that when you had your opponent at a disadvantage, you didn’t monologue, you didn’t give your opponent a chance to redeem himself, and you didn’t reconsider.
Once you’d engaged lethal force, you didn’t stop until you or your target was eliminated.
Declan was stunned by the rush to the ground, and by not coming up to straddle Mason like some grade school kid in the playground. Mason slipped an arm around Declan's throat even as his fingers clawed at Mason’s arm, his feet kicking frantically at the ground. He bucked hard as his autonomic reflexes kicked in, his brain losing oxygen.
Mason held on.
Somehow, all the parts of him that made him human faded, and another, more animal side held on. It was a mistake to think of the people you were doing this for—he’d learned that too. To think of Caro, or the girls. No. He focused on his enemy, and on the physical signs of oxygen deprivation.
Sixty six seconds, Mason. A voice whispered in his mind. One one-thousand, two one-thousand…
After Declan went still, Mason held on for a few more minutes, just to be sure. It took longer to strangle someone. He wasn’t interested in a horror movie ending, with the bastard popping up all unexpected. He checked for a pulse and couldn’t feel anything, but then, of course, he was wearing the work gloves. And, he found, he didn’t much care. He hoisted Declan’s body in a fireman’s carry, and started into the woods. He’d prepared the hole earlier. All that was left now was the burying.
It was too easy, in the end. He’d hiked miles in the mountains wearing packs heavier than this bastard, and he thought of it like that. Just another trip, a couple of miles in country. He could feel his brain filing this experience away among his wartime memories, just another nightmare to wake him up sweating. Nothing more, nothing less.
The sound the body made as it flopped down into the hole made his stomach flip, but he swallowed the nausea. He was a couple miles into the woods, off the trails. The odds of anyone finding this spot were ridiculously small, but there was still no reason to leave any kind of evidence if he could help it.
He pulled out the pay-as-you-go cell he’d bought with cash on his way here, and dialed both Munch and then Trish, giving them instructions. The specifics didn’t matter. They’d both handle things. They both wanted this freedom as much as he did.
And then he started to fill in the hole.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The knocking at the window was soft and insistent. Caroline had taken the book Missy gave her back to bed and read a few chapters before sleep finally overcame her. She woke up all at once, with a sense that she’d been hearing the sound for a few minutes at least. Her heart pounding in her chest, she went to the window, ready to scream for Jack and Missy if she needed to. The face that greeted her in the window was so filthy that it took her a moment to recognize Mason’s features. “Come to the back door,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
He nodded, every motion showing total exhaustion, and she grabbed the microfiber robe Missy had laid out for her and slipped it on. He was trembling on the back step, and his eyes were flickering from spot to spot, his pupils way too wide. “Mason?”
“It’s finished,” he whispered, swaying. “It’s done.”
She caught him as he collapsed, managing to brace her feet in time to not fall to the floor herself.
Jack flicked on the kitchen light a moment later, and hurried over to her, slipping Mason’s arm over his shoulder and helping Caroline support his weight. Mason’s head lolled, but his eyes were open. “Just exhausted, I think,” Jack said. “I don’t see any blood?”
“No, but he’s filthy,” Caroline said. “Can we get him into the shower, do you think? And then somewhere to rest.”
“I think so,” Jack agreed. “We have a shower chair from the last time Missy’s mom was here. Do you think you can hold him for a second?”
“Yeah, I got him,” she said, and braced her feet more carefully this time before Jack gave her back his weight.
Mason’s eyes flicked up to her. “I did it, baby. We’re going to be safe now.”
“I’m glad,” she said, stroking his hair back from his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then you can rest.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Burn my clothes. And wash the shower out. Just in case.”
“Is that really necessary?”
He knew what she was asking, and he nodded. “If they ever find him, it will be.”
Her stomach flip-flopped like she was on a roller coaster. “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
His mouth grinned, but his eyes didn’t light up. “Simple as that, is it?”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“Did I break us?”
“No,” she whispered. “No, we’re going to be just fine.” She wasn’t even remotely sure that was true, but what else was she going to say?
And then Jack was back. “I’m okay,” Mason insisted, slowly pushing himself back up to standing. Caroline stayed close, her hands braced on either side of his torso, but he walked carefully into the bathroom, then stripped off his clothes and sat down in the shower chair. Caroline reached past him to turn the water on while Jack excused himself. Mason didn’t flinch when it was cold, and he didn’t flinch when it was burning hot, either. Caroline tried to find a temperature that wouldn’t freeze him or scald him while his eyes stayed focused on the shower floor, at the swirls of muddy water that were accumulating there.
“What happened?” she asked finally.
It took a few moments for the question to penetrate, and then he shook his head. “Not something we can talk about, Caroline. Not today. Not ever.”
“Why not?”
He looked at her with a cold expres
sion that she’d never seen before. Not on his face. “You want to be called as a witness at the trial?”
And then, with no warning, his face crumpled. She shucked off the robe, the tank top, and the pajama pants, and she stepped into the shower, holding him as best as she could while he cried.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Eventually he was clean, the mud and muck washed off him. She paid attention and didn’t see anything anywhere that resembled blood. She couldn’t decide if that was good or not.
Mason stood still and quiet while she towel-dried him off, and when she handed him the boxers and t-shirt that Jack had passed through the door he put them on without protest. Missy had sleepily offered to clean out the shower once they’d all gotten a little more rest; Mason had considered it for a moment, weighing something in his mind, and then nodded. Caroline had taken his hand in hers and led him down the hallway to the spare bedroom where she’d been sleeping when he knocked on her window. She tucked him in, and then excused herself to pee before she went back to bed.
