by Pandora Pine
“Can we go see my dad now?” Greeley asked. His green eyes glowed with happiness.
“You bet we can.” Ronan wrapped his arm around Greeley’s shoulder and led him out of the room.
Tennyson knew there would be a lot of questions that would need to be answered in the days and weeks to come. Ronan would be facing another Internal Affairs probe in the shooting death of Rod Jacobson, and he would have his own set of questions to answer and reports to file, but right now, all that mattered was reuniting father and son.
44
Ronan
Fitzgibbon’s surgeon had been right on the money. Five days after Kevin had been shot by Rod Jacobson, he’d been released from the hospital. Ronan had been the one to pick him up, but instead of dropping him off at his South Boston apartment, he’d dropped his grumpy cat captain off with Truman and Carson.
While Fitzgibbon had been in the hospital, Tennyson had taken over spending nights with Greeley in rehab. They hadn’t been reading Moby Dick, instead. Ten had been reading old copies of People Magazine. The teenager hadn’t wanted to go back to Hope by the Sea until Kevin was out of the hospital, but Tennyson with his soft touch had managed to talk the boy into returning the next morning.
For his part, Ronan had spent most of the last week with Internal Affairs. He’d known that was what was going to happen and he’d been prepared for it. Tennyson was going through the same series of interviews and they weren’t allowed to see each other during this time. It was all the same song and dance they’d both been through after the conclusion of the Michael Frye case.
The only difference this time was that Ronan wasn’t walking away with any demons. He actually felt like during the course of this investigation that he’d managed to exorcise a few of his old ones. He was the first person to admit he’d been completely fucked up by the way Josh had left and then divorced him. All of which was compounded by the confessions he’d later made about their lives together.
Ronan had sworn off love after their divorce, but Tennyson had been waiting for him right around the corner and though he was a stubborn man, he certainly was not a stupid one. It had taken him some time to figure out he was worthy of loving Ten. It had taken more time for him to figure out that he was capable of being in a real relationship where he would be responsible for talking through his emotions. Now that he was here, he was never looking back.
It had been a rough five days without seeing Tennyson. Internal Affairs was keeping them apart so they couldn’t coordinate their stories. The hold up this time was their not being able to speak with Fitzgibbon until he’d been given the all-clear by his doctors. Once they had his statement in the books, the shooting of Rod Jacobson had been ruled clean and Ronan was in the clear.
Truman and Carson were having a barbeque to get everyone back together as a family and to celebrate life. Ronan had a feeling that not everyone in attendance would be among the living.
The party was in full swing when he got there. He’d even remembered to bring a dessert, some kind of fruit tart.
“You finally made it!” Truman pulled him in for a hug.
“Got my final review from Internal Affairs. The shoot was ruled good and I’m back on the job.” It felt good saying it out loud. He couldn’t wait to tell Ten, who was sitting at the patio table with Carson and the captain. “How’s he doing?”
“Kevin?” Truman asked. “He’s frustrated by the fact that Carson and I wait on him hand and foot. He loves feeding the babies so we just tell him it’s an even trade off. He’s itching to be able to drive again and to get back to work. Carson of course gets his frustrations since he’s also taken a bullet for someone he loves…” Truman trailed off and bit his lip.
Ronan started to laugh. “That was a different story. Carson took a bullet because you were too damn stubborn to listen to his visions. What happened with Fitzgibbon was different.”
“Oh, ho! Look who’s all of a sudden defending psychics and what they see.” Truman laughed along with Ronan.
“Love changed me. What can I say.” Ronan meant every word he was saying. “Where’s Greeley?”
“He decided to stay at rehab. He’s out of detox now and into group therapy and he didn’t want to let his group down by being absent.”
“Wow. He’s one hell of a kid.”
Truman nodded. “We’ve all been going up there to visit him and Carson and I came to the same conclusion. Great kid who got a shitty break in life, but is now getting one hell of a second chance.”
“Speaking of second chances, I need to go kiss Ten’s lips off.” Ronan slapped Truman’s shoulder and headed off to where Tennyson and Carson were sitting with the captain. “Well, look who’s up and about!”
Fitzgibbon laughed. “I can see being cleared in your second IAB investigation in two years hasn’t changed you one bit, Ronan.”
“You were cleared?” Tennyson hopped out of his seat.
“Got my badge back this morning.” Ronan was all smiles as he pulled Tennyson into his arms. “Am I going to have my captain back too?”
“As soon as those God da- darned doctors clear me,” Fitzgibbon all but snarled.
“God darned?” Ronan laughed.
“Yeah, well, I owe the swear jar about a hundred grand, so I’m learning to watch my mouth, aren’t I, princess?” Kevin pressed a kiss to Bertha’s head.
“I’m glad you’re on the mend, cap. If you’ll excuse us. I have a man that I haven’t seen in days.” Ronan grabbed Tennyson’s hand and dragged him into the house.
Once they were out of sight of the others, he pulled Tennyson into his arms. “I missed you so much, babe.”
“I missed you too,” Ten agreed, wrapping his arms around Ronan.
Ronan pulled back to nuzzle Ten’s neck. His cock was already firming up and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up taking Tennyson against the kitchen counter. “Missed this too.” Ronan grinned against the hot skin of his lover’s neck.
“Ronan,” Ten sighed breathlessly, pushing lightly at Ronan’s shoulders. “Hold on.”
“What is it, babe? You want to run upstairs so we don’t get caught?” Ronan grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the living room.
“In a minute. There’s something I want to talk to you about first.” Tennyson was staring at the kitchen floor.
Ronan had a bad feeling about this. “Okay, what’s up?” He cupped Ten’s face in his hands and took a deep breath.
“I’m struggling with what happened in this case, Ronan. I’m not sleeping or eating much. All I do is pace around my apartment. I can’t stop crying. All of those gay teenagers, they all could have been me. The ones who died, the ones living on the street, the ones selling themselves to survive.” Tears slipped from Tennyson’s dark eyes.
“It’s okay. I understand.” Ronan pulled his lover into his arms and held him while he cried. Being apart for the last five days had been hell on him too. The last time this happened was before Carson and Truman’s babies had been born and they’d been able to focus all of their time and energy on Ten. This time, they had their hands full with three infants, Captain Fitzgibbon, and Greeley. Tennyson may have been the odd man out in the equation. “Tell me how I can help.”
“I need some time away, to find myself. To heal,” Tennyson said through his tears.
Ronan felt his heart shatter. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. It was happening all over again, just like with Josh. Tennyson was breaking up with him.
“I’m not breaking up with you. I promise I’m not. I just need some time away. Time to myself.” Ten took a ragged breath. He reached up to wrap his hands around Ronan’s. “I booked a cabin out on Great Diamond Island off the coast of Portland, Maine. It’s quiet there. Relaxing. Off the beaten path, as they say. I can meditate. Find my Zen. Heal.”
The words were slow to sink in. Tennyson wasn’t breaking up with him. He just needed time for himself. “Okay, I just…” Ronan tried to take a breath. “Just tell me w
hy you need to do this alone.” He was battling his own tears now. It wasn’t a breakup, but his heart was broken all the same. Why did Tennyson need to heal alone?
“It’s just what I need right now. I need to focus on me and if you’re there too, I’ll focus on you. Ronan, I love you so much. I think my heart will burst sometimes with all of the love that I have for you. This issue with these boys and what they went through is my issue. It’s my past and my present colliding and I just need to step away and reconcile those two parts of me. I promise you this isn’t the end. It’s just goodbye for now. I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”
It was too late for that, Ronan missed him already and Tennyson was still standing in front of him. “If this is what you need, babe, then I’m all for it. I can’t say I won’t miss you like crazy, but I support you one hundred percent. I love you too, Ten. With my whole heart.” Ronan pulled Tennyson back into his arms and held him tight.
Ronan wasn’t sure what was going to happen next between the two of them, but whatever it was he and Tennyson were safe. Right here and right now, that was enough
EPILOGUE
Tennyson
One week later…
Great Diamond Island was everything that the travel websites played it up to be and then some. The only people who were on the island were those who lived there and rented cottages. There was one inn over on the other side of the island, but that part of the island was fenced off from the rest.
The island was semi-private and unless you were renting a cottage or visiting the Inn at Diamond Cove you weren’t allowed off the ferry. For Tennyson, the quiet of the place was an absolute haven for him.
His little cottage was just off the beach. It was painted a light pink and had one bedroom. It was the perfect size for a honeymooning couple or an exhausted psychic looking to come to terms with himself and his past.
Every morning that Tennyson had been here started with an egg white omelet and a piece of wheat toast. After the dishes were cleaned up, he’d head out to the beach for an hour of meditation. Usually he’d only get in a few solitary minutes of deep breathing and a few simple poses before the voices and visitations would start. Ten knew there was no way he could truly take a vacation by himself; the spirits of the departed were everywhere.
The one thing he should have done was a bit more research on Fort McKinley. Built in the early 20th century, the fort was an active U.S. Army base until after the end of World War II. Over the course of the week he’d been here, dozens of the spirits that had visited him had been those of soldiers who’d come back to the place they’d been happiest after they’d died.
Instead of having hours of uninterrupted time to spend on himself, he’d used it all up helping spirits cross over or come to terms with the fact they were actually dead. At the end of most days, Tennyson was more tired than he should have been, leaving him with no time to work on himself.
Not being able to work on his own issues only made him miss Ronan more. He’d gotten in the habit of sending his lover one email a day, right before he went to bed. He never mentioned the fact that he was spending more time working with the dead than on himself. His emails were instead filled with details about the island and always included a picture of the beach or of some bird or flower.
Ronan, for his part, followed the unwritten rules Tennyson had set. He would respond to Ten’s email the next morning. He’d talk about the progress Fitzgibbon and Greeley were making, among other mundane things like what was going on with Truman and Carson. He’d close with a picture of Boston, usually a sunrise shot from Carson Beach, which told Ten that Ronan had started running again.
Day nine on the island dawned rainy. There would be no meditation on the beach this morning. After breakfast, Ten set up his mat on the living room floor in front of the cold stone fireplace and started his deep breathing. He was about to move into the “greet the day” pose when he was interrupted by a steady stream of voices talking at once. “That’s it!” Tennyson shouted. “I’ve been more than patient, but you all have to go!” His breath was ragged, his voice high-pitched. “I came here to relax and find myself. To heal and I haven’t had one damn second to myself since I arrived. Can you all just give me that? One damn minute? I wish I never had this damn gift! Now go!”
Tennyson fell back to his mat and let all of his emotions flow out of him. He cried for his childhood spent denying who he was. He cried for the boys back home in Boston who’d lost their families and lives for being born gay. He cried for Ronan and the precious time they were missing together because he’d run away from his problems to this god-forsaken rock to find himself when he’d never really been lost in the first place. Ten cried and cried until the tears were gone and sleep took him.
When he woke up, the cabin was dark. Ten sat up and all of his muscles screamed in protest. “That’s what I get for falling asleep on the hardwood floor,” he muttered to the empty room. He walked to the dining room table and grabbed his phone. Hitting the home button, he saw that it was 7pm. Christ, he’d slept for twelve hours on his yoga mat.
Guilt hit him like a boulder. Yes, he wanted a little time to himself to get his head on straight again after the Justin Wilson case, but he never should have yelled at those spirits like he’d done. Ten turned on the heat under the tea kettle and took a seat at the dining room table. Opening his sixth sense wide, he reached out to all of the spirits around, welcoming them to speak to him. Oddly enough, none responded.
When the kettle started to boil, he got up and made his cup of green tea. Ten took it out onto the deck, where the moon was rising out of the ocean. He sat in one of the Adirondack chairs and let the rhythm of the tides soothe his troubled soul.
The first thing he was going to do when he got back to Massachusetts, after he kissed Ronan’s lips raw and begged for his forgiveness for not taking him on this trip, was to jump in feet first with Truman on his We Are Family charity. After that, he was going to book appointments with clients looking to have private readings with their loved ones, and then he was going to get back to work with Ronan.
He knew damned well that not all cold cases were going to turn out like the Michael Frye and Justin Wilson cases with violence and gunfire. For most of them, it would simply be a matter of speaking with the victims and hearing the stories of how they died. Ronan would be able to find the evidence or get the suspects to confess from there.
Tennyson laughed into the twilight. There! All he’d needed was five uninterrupted minutes to himself to figure out what was next for him and his life. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?
As for what was going on with his past colliding with his present, he needed to let his parents and their narrow-minded religious beliefs go. He wasn’t that scared seventeen-year-old boy anymore, twisting his hands together and telling his parents he was gay and psychic. He was a man with a career, two of them, in fact, and a man who loved him to the moon and back.
He hadn’t spoken a single word to his parents in thirteen years. After the notoriety of the Frye case, his parents surely knew how to reach him, but they hadn’t. If the book hadn’t been closed on that relationship before, it should be now. “No, fuck that!” Tennyson shouted to the sea. The book was closed. He was closing it now.
“You hear that, Bertha? Erin? I’m done with my parents and thinking that they’ll never want to get back in touch with me.” Tennyson was all smiles as he waited for a response from Carson and Ronan’s mothers.
All he got in return was silence.
Tennyson stood up and walked to the edge of the deck and looked up at the stars. A million of them winked back at him. For the first time in his entire life, all he heard were the sounds his ears were picking up; a barking dog, the crash of the waves on the beach, a car horn, the sound of his breath getting faster with each passing second.
“Bertha? Erin? Anyone?” Tennyson shouted. Silence. It was dead silent.
Tennyson thought back to his tantrum from this morning. He’d wished his
gift away. The most precious thing he’d ever been given in his life and he’d wished it away like a teenager telling his parents that he hated them. What had he done?
Were the spirits just obeying his command to leave him alone so he could selfishly enjoy his vacation? Or were they gone for good?
There was only one way to find out. He needed to get home. If anyone could help him figure this out, it was Carson and Cole.
And Ronan. The second worst thing he’d ever done in his life was to run away from the man who loved him.
The next ferry back to the mainland wasn’t until 6:30am tomorrow morning. It looked like Tennyson was going to get exactly what he asked for. Peace and quiet. Only that was the last thing he wanted right now.
He offered up a silent prayer that when he woke up in the morning his gift would be back.
Book three of the Cold Case Psychic series, DEAD SILENT, will be available for sale and on Kindle Unlimited on March 6, 2018!
Be careful what you wish for…
After a dramatic end to the Justin Wilson case, psychic Tennyson Grimm heads to a small island off the coast of Maine, hoping to clear his mind and renew his spirit. When the dead won’t let Tennyson rest, the psychic curses his gift and orders the spirits to leave him. He wakes the next morning to silence, and finds truth in the saying, "Be careful what you wish for.”
Detective Ronan O’Mara has been tasked by his boss with the chore of fining a more "sedate" cold case to investigate this time around. The handsome cop is only too happy to oblige. He chooses the twenty-year-old case of a family patriarch who was murdered on Christmas night 1997. The only possible suspects are either his wife or his daughter, who were both with him at the time of his death. Ronan figures this one will be a piece of cake. All he has to do is get his favorite medium to talk to the deceased man's spirit.
When Tennyson reveals the truth about what happened in Maine, he’s forced to take a hard look at who he thought he was, and what his gift really means. Ronan does his best to help his lover cope with his new normal while he uses good old-fashioned police work to figure out a family who put the 'dis' in dysfunction.
