The Heart of the Jungle

by Jeremy Pack

  He cried until there were no more tears. Even then, he couldn't pull away. The smell of Jason's skin, the supple feel of it against his cheek, the firmness of his body, the comfort of being wrapped up in him, these were the lifelines keeping him from spiraling into the void. He realized guiltily that he kept seeking out opportunities to be sheltered in this embrace---it was becoming a compulsion. Finally, a knock at the door announced the arrival of the cheeseburgers, and Chris tried to pull away.

  "Don't answer it," Jason said in a low, husky voice.

  He looked up and saw torment and passion in the other man's eyes.

  He could feel the evidence of it pressing against his body.

  "I...." He couldn't speak, but instead, when the knock sounded a second time, he propelled himself backward and away before Jason had time to respond.

  After the delivery had been transacted and the room was awash in the scent of burgers and fries, Jason tried to stammer an apology for his tumescence, but Chris waved it off. He didn't want to acknowledge it; he was too overcome by embarrassment.

  "Eat," he said, to put an end to the discussion. "And tell me everything."

  Jason took up a handful of fries and ate them, chewing thoughtfully.

  He seemed to be struggling with how to begin. "Hopkins brokered some kind of deal with a family named Mariano. They owed someone a favor and agreed to take Brianna in. She said it was a temporary arrangement."

  "Temporary for how long? And why?"

  "She didn't know. Said she was carrying out instructions."

  "And Brunner?"

  Jason swallowed another mouthful of food. "He's got a suite at the Bellagio."

  "Do you think Michael is with him?"

  "Count on it."

  "I don't believe it. They're really alive. They're really here. You were right."

  "Are you going to eat that?" Jason asked, pointing to Chris's burger.

  Chris rolled his eyes and gave him a disbelieving look.

  "You really should, you know. Keep up your strength. You don't eat enough."

  "Enough with the food already." Chris picked at the bun, forcing himself to chew the dry bread and swallow. "What's our next step?"

  "First, I need to get a digital camera. I'm going to get photos of Brianna. Lisa's working on the Mariano lead, trying to get me some addresses. I also need to get proof that Michael is alive and with Brunner. They're the only ones who know what's behind all of this. There are apparently big backers involved in Brunner's scheme, and if we don't find out who they are and what they want from you---stop this thing at the source---putting Brunner away won't be the end of it. Once we have all that, we'll take it right to the FBI and let them go to work."

  "Why me? I still don't get it."

  "I don't know, but these people are dangerous, Chris. The look on that woman's face when she talked about it.... She said she was more afraid of them than the authorities. I don't think she was faking it."

  "Why do we need photos, then? Why not just get the CAU--- whatever it was---involved now? Go in with support in the first place?"

  Jason shook his head. "There's another... complication."

  "What now?"

  "Jeffrey Cross is dead. Murdered. They think we had something to do with it."

  Chris's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a sudden wave of nausea.

  His breath exploded in a stunned gasp. "Oh no," he whispered. "No."

  "So you see, we need proof now more than ever. We need Michael and Brunner to talk. Besides, these people, the Marianos, have legitimate documents, witnesses. We have to move very carefully."

  "I can't believe Jeff is dead," Chris said, still horrified by the news.

  They'd just spoken to him the day before. It seemed unreal that he had been killed.

  "Some very bad stuff is going down. I have no idea what, but I can tell you the authorities will send us back to Seattle as prime suspects in a homicide investigation unless we go in with something substantial. We have to move very quickly and very carefully."

  Chris nodded. He was still reeling and overcome. Would these horrors ever end? "Okay," he agreed, clenching his fists and trying to bring the violent tremors under control.

  "So I take the pictures, the authorities get Brunner and Michael to talk, and we move with the CACU team on the Marianos to recover Brianna. It has to go down just like that or she'll slip right through our hands. You have to trust me."

  He looked into Jason's eyes and set his jaw. "I'm coming with you this time. I need to see her. I need to be there when you nail Michael's ass to the wall. I promise I won't interfere. I won't do anything stupid. I just... I need to be there."

  Jason looked as if he might protest, but after contemplating the resolve on Chris's face, seemed to think better of it. "I'll need your help to identify Brianna, anyway."

  A renewed sense of hope surged to life within Chris. After all this time, he was finally going to have his life back. Brianna was alive, she was here, and she'd be home with him soon. He would have wept with joy if he had any tears left to cry.

  He favored Jason with a look that bespoke deep and boundless gratitude. "I don't know where you came from, Jason Kingsley, but I can never repay you for this. Never."

  Jason smiled softly, tenderly. "You don't need to repay me, Chris. I told you, I have a soft spot for anything to do with children."

  Chris noticed the fleeting look of pain again. This time, he didn't fight down his curiosity. "Because of your time in the FBI?"

  Jason nodded slowly and looked away.

  Chris drew him back with a gentle touch. When their eyes met again, he asked, "Why is it that whenever the subject comes up, you shut down?"

  "I told you before. Bad memories."

  "Was it a case you were working on? What happened? Please tell me."

  Jason tried to protest, but before he could stop himself, the story came tumbling out. He faltered at first, and then, as if frantic to get it all out before he lost the nerve, he let it pour forth like a flood. "I was working a case. A serial. Sick, detestable scum by the name of Don Gerry. He was... a predator. Violent. So evil you can't imagine. Careful. We knew it was him, but it seemed like every time we got close, he'd slip away. Crime scenes were always scoured clean. I hate prime-time television. Damn shows teach perps how to cover their tracks.

  "Anyway, up to that point, I had a promising career in the unit. I had already nailed a couple of high-profile cases and had a reputation for getting the job done." He drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he spoke. "I was following in my father's footsteps, so they expected great things from me. Everyone's confidence in me... well, I guess it made an impact. I was just as confident in myself. Too confident.

  "Guys like Gerry always mess up, and I was there when he did."

  Chris was transfixed. The sacrifice Jason was making in telling the story was not lost on him. He could see the anguish, could feel it in Jason's every word.

  "About a year into the investigation, we got a call that a little girl named Jessica Andrews had been murdered. Since the scene looked like it matched Gerry's MO, my partner and I were sent in. We did an initial sweep---found nothing---not even fiber evidence. Typical of Gerry. We checked the body and found about what we'd expected. She was beaten to death and badly abused." Jason stopped, his face adopted a haunted, tormented expression. The shadowy apparitions of his memory had momentarily overwhelmed him, and Chris could see him struggling with the images in his mind. He wondered if he would ever have been able to sleep again after having seen something so horrific.

  Suddenly conscious of Jason's struggle, he reached out. "This is too hard for you. I shouldn't have imposed. I don't expect you to---"

  "No, I have to get this out." He took a deep breath. "We decided to do another sweep, hoping we'd missed something, anything. We almost gave up, but Clint, my partner, lost it. He was kind of a rookie and just wasn't hardened to crime scenes yet. He got sick.

  "There was a used condom in the commode,"
Jason said. "When Clint lifted the lid, he saw it. Gerry must have tried to flush it, but the house had bad plumbing. Clint had the good sense to puke on the floor, but it turned out to be a wasted effort." Jason gritted his teeth, remembering what had followed.

  "What happened?"

  "I fucked up," Jason said, too ashamed to meet Chris's eyes.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I didn't seal the evidence bag properly," he blurted.

  Chris drew in his breath sharply. He had some idea of what was coming.

  "The guys in forensics positively ID'd the sample. It was him, all right. He'd done it, and we had the proof---right there in our hands. Only we couldn't use it."

  "But you got him anyway? Tell me you got him."

  Jason shook his head. His voice was filled with bitterness when he spoke again. "That sample was our only real evidence. We had nothing else to make a case with. We had to let him go. He's still out there, probably up to his old tricks."

  Chris swallowed hard, utterly sickened by the fact that such evil roamed the streets. "He went free on a technicality? You had proof that he did it, but you couldn't tell anyone? That's preposterous. It's... it's---"

  "My fault. I was cocky, sloppy, too goddamn caught up in my moment of glory to check the boxes the way I should have." Jason ran a trembling hand through his hair, and there were tears of remorse in his eyes. "I let that little girl down, and all the rest of them. After that, I just couldn't do it anymore. They were counting on me---all those kids that Gerry preyed upon---and I betrayed their trust." Jason closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "So I left. They censured me, of course, but I didn't really care. They should have drummed me out. Instead, I quit." He stared at the table for a long while, drained, seemingly afraid of the reproach he might see if he dared to look Chris in the eye.

  "If anyone betrayed their trust, Jason," Chris said with passion, "it was the messed-up system."

  Perhaps because of the conviction in Chris's tone, Jason finally found the courage to look up. "So now you know. I probably should have told you in the first place---before I offered to help you."

  Chris took hold of Jason's hand and held it fiercely. "I trust you more than ever. Whether you believe it or not, you can't crucify yourself for the rest of your life over a stupid mistake." He gave Jason's hand a small squeeze. "You have to get past the guilt. I know that's easier said than done. God knows I have my own demons." He looked away for a moment, trying to mask dark memories of his own. "You were doing good work for the world. You can't blame yourself for a totally screwed-up system of justice that lets the worst kind of killer free on a technicality. Yeah, you missed a step---but which is more important? An unchecked box, or the fact that all the other times it was checked, you were saving lives and making the world a safer place? If you ask me, the system is to blame anyway. Not you."

  Jason smiled weakly. "I dream about it all the time. I've flogged myself repeatedly for that moment of carelessness. In the end, it doesn't bring any of them back."

  Chris stared directly into his eyes. "No, it doesn't. But that's not the point. The point is saving the next child, and the next. You have the power to do that. Look what you've done for me."

  "I wish it were that easy, but I don't have that kind of confidence in myself. Not anymore."

  "Well, you should. I do. Jason, you are a brilliant investigator. You're smart, brave, much more capable than you realize. When everyone else let me down... you gave me hope. Look how far you've brought me in just a handful of days." His intent was to put Jason at ease, to soften the pain he carried. He didn't realize until after he'd spoken how intensely he believed what he'd just said. He'd known Jason for such a short time, but he'd seen directly into the man's soul tonight. He realized that he truly did care---more than he'd like to admit.

  The arrogance and thoughtlessness were affectations. There were unbelievable depths to this man. At his core, Jason was the most compelling, most sensitive, most compassionate person he'd ever known.

  Chris released Jason's hand and rose from his seat. He walked to the window and looked out over the city, caught up in so many emotions they threatened to overwhelm. Somewhere out there in that sea of lights, his baby girl was asleep. His little peanut whom he loved with his very soul was a heartbeat away from him. He placed his fingertips on the window and breathed her name.

  He didn't attempt to move away when Jason came up behind him.

  Strong arms wrapped around him. He could feel the beating of Jason's heart against his back. He breathed in the spicy scent of his skin. The embrace was meant to offer comfort, or perhaps to receive it. Whatever the purpose, Chris was grateful. After a time, though, the innocence gave way to something more. The thudding of Jason's heart grew in intensity.

  There was a rising heat in his flesh. Jason's ardor from earlier, having been stifled and put aside, now returned in full force. Chris could feel it straining through the thin fabric that separated them. Though every shred of good sense was railing at him to pull away and to put a stop to this, he couldn't. He wanted it just as badly. He needed it as he had never needed anything in his life.

  He allowed himself to be turned around, and he leaned his head against Jason's shoulder. He reveled anew in the softness of Jason's skin.

  His lips brushed over Jason's collarbone, and his own hunger arose. His breath came quickly, and he pressed himself closer to Jason's body.

  Jason's fingers traced along his neck, raising gooseflesh and shivers. Chris sighed and gave in to the pleasurable sensations.

  Jason cupped a hand beneath his chin and tilted his face upward.

  Chris surrendered completely to the passionate kiss that followed. He made no move to stop it, but instead committed himself body and soul to the moment.

  He was so lost in need that he was on the bed, covered by Jason's body, before his mind could rally one last attempt at resistance. He was quickly losing himself to the intensity of the experience.

  Strong hands pressed him into the mattress, and he yielded to the hard lips that sought out his earlobe, his chin, his neck, the hollow at the base of his throat. He did not protest when his shirt was lifted and painful yet pleasurable suction aroused first one and then the other nipple. And then lower, teeth and tongue teased the taut muscles of his stomach. He writhed and clenched with each nip of his sensitive flesh. He was alight with fire, rising and falling in crests of pleasure and torment and confusion and desire.

  He rose up and pulled Jason close to his body, kissing him deeply.

  He was now a willing participant, the animal part of himself having taken full control of his body.

  They circled, first one taking the lead, then the other, exploring, tasting, giving, and taking. Clothing fell away and flesh molded to flesh.

  It was as if their bodies had been made to be entwined. Their limbs locked together in perfect union. Heart to heart, they pulsed to the same rhythm, their cries of joy rising to a crescendo.

  This was the way it was always meant to be.

  Finally, although it seemed Chris had been consumed by an eternity of fire, it was done. They lay together, spent, still wrapped in the hot embrace of damp flesh, and Chris fell asleep.

  SUNLIGHT spilling through the carelessly opened curtains awoke Chris.

  He snuggled in closer to Jason, not fully awake. He breathed in the comforting scent of the man he'd loved with an abandon and fury he'd never known, just the night before. A vague stirring and a heady feeling of euphoria roused him. As he came more fully awake, a dawning realization of what had transpired between them snapped him completely back to reality.

  In the next instant, he jerked away and clumsily disentangled himself from Jason's body. He rolled out of the bed and rushed blindly to the bathroom, pursued by a groggy, "Chris?"

  He closed the door and locked it. He slid down the wall and came to rest on the cool tile. He cradled his head in his hands. What have we done? What have I done? How could I have let
this happen?

  There was a knock at the door. "Chris? Are you okay?"

  He controlled his breathing, trying to put down the tremor he knew would be obvious in his voice. "I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute," he said.

  There was a long silence on the other side of the door. "You're upset about what happened."

  Chris pinched his eyes closed and shook his head. He couldn't spend the rest of his life in the bathroom. He was going to have to face Jason again sometime.

  He stood, wrapped a towel around himself, and opened the door.

  Jason looked at him imploringly. Chris was surprised to see shame on his face. What did Jason have to be ashamed about? Chris was the one who didn't put a stop to it.

  He brushed by and fumbled with his clothes, dressing hastily.

  Jason came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Chris shrugged it away.

  "So you're just going to give me the cold shoulder now? You got what you wanted and now I'm history?"

  Chris spun around and glared at him. "That's not true."

  "Then what's your problem? Why the sudden change of heart?"

  "Because it's wrong. Can't you see that? Don't you understand it should never have happened?"

  "Why, Chris? Why?"

  "I... I led you on. Led you to believe I was ready for something more, but I'm not. I can't offer you something I don't have to give. We--- I did something incredibly stupid." He pulled on his pants and hastily struggled into his socks.

  "Stupid? You think it was stupid? I didn't hear you complaining about it last night," Jason railed. His face was stricken. Chris turned his eyes to the floor. How could he have treated Jason's heart so carelessly?

  After all the man had done for him, how could he have been so thoughtless?

  Jason turned away and marched to the window. He didn't speak for several minutes. When he turned back to Chris, his eyes were hard. "I know what this is all about. I was right about you. You're nothing but a coward."

  There was a flash of pain in Chris's heart. Jason's words cut deep, but the wound was yet to be opened.