by Rick R. Reed
Part of Thad wanted to giggle at the thoughts and suspicions clouding his thinking. Werewolves? Really? Aren’t they the stuff of legend? Is it even remotely reasonable—or sane—to give Jared’s description of the wolfman creature he said he had seen any credence? Couldn’t Jared just have been in shock and his own memory conjured up something fantastic and chilling? Stranger things have happened. But there’s little stranger than the idea of a werewolf roaming the streets and parks of a major city like Seattle. It seems absurd.
But is it?
“I hope you can at least put aside this difference enough to sleep with me tonight.” Sam smiled, but Thad caught a bit of apprehension behind the smile, as if Sam were no longer confident in Thad’s response to the idea. Thad had been so immersed in doubt and fear, enough to make his stomach churn, that he had sort of drifted away from Sam, even though he remained physically seated at this old oak table with him.
He looked up at the man he thought he loved and recoiled. Could he sleep with him tonight? The idea, one that had once held so much promise and passion, now filled him with a queasy kind of dread. Thad bit at his lip and was seized with an almost irresistible urge to cry… with loss and regret.
I really thought I was falling in love with Sam. He’s my dream come true. My Mr. Right. How could all that just fly out the window with a few doubts, doubts even I think border on the lunatic?
Thad fingered the linen of the tablecloth, not allowing himself to look up at Sam as he pondered the origin of the word lunatic: luna, as in moon.
It all comes back to the same thing, doesn’t it? Why not just put my fears on the table? Why not just ask the things I’m burning to know? Maybe if I do that, I can clear the air, repair the break in the bridge between me and the man I thought I loved?
Because if I do that, Sam will think I’m crazy, and he’ll reject me.
Because if I do that, Sam will tell me the truth—he and his whole family are homicidal werewolves—and then what will I do with that?
Because if I do that, Sam will laugh at my fears and then follow me home and murder me to ensure I do not reveal the secret of the Italian family in Seattle.
Thad laughed out loud, inappropriately and maybe in something a bit too close to a hysterical twitter, and then stopped. He looked up at Sam and a combustible mixture of feelings pulsed through him within only a second or two: lust, loss, desire, regret, horror, passion, and doubt chief among them.
“Talk to me,” Sam commanded, his dark eyes clouded with what looked a lot like worry to Thad.
What if this is all in my head? What if Sam really is just a humble chef who wants to make a success of his restaurant? What if he’s just a guy who loves and lusts after me?
Sam went on, “You have been distant all night. I don’t know what’s wrong unless you tell me.”
And there, poised on the brink, Thad almost did. He nearly poured out all his half-gelled fears and wants. He was close to telling Sam he wanted to put things back to where they were before their most recent full moon.
Yet he didn’t know if he could. He stood suddenly, startling Sam. “I have a lot going on in my head, as you’ve noticed.” Thad found he was trembling and, once again, on the brink of tears. He crossed to where Sam sat, stooped, and planted a deep kiss on his lips, not caring who saw. He pulled away, searching Sam’s eyes and wishing he could make him understand. “I think I love you, Sam, but I’m not sure—right now—if I love you or the idea of you. I don’t know if that makes sense. I don’t know if any of what I’m thinking makes sense. I just know I need time to sort it all out.”
Thad forced himself to turn away and scurry from the restaurant. He didn’t stop, even when he heard the door reopen and Sam call after to him to come back.
“Thad, please!” Sam’s voice caught at him as surely as if the man had run up behind him and grabbed at his jacket. He stopped for a moment, indecisive.
Then he continued on, shoulders hunched against a cold night wind that blew across the lake’s water. Sudden drizzle stung his face, and as Thad hurried away, Sam’s plaintive voice echoing behind him, the rain came down harder, soaking him. Thad looked around, at the lights in the windows of houses, warm, and the traffic rushing by him. He suddenly felt something he had not felt in a long time.
Alone.
But what really had changed? Could a nightmare and some outlandish suspicions actually thwart what he thought was the start of a promising relationship?
It wasn’t Sam. It couldn’t be Sam. A man so full of love and life, so full of nurturing, could not be a killer. I could not have slept with a killer. I could not have let a killer make love to me. Things like that happen to other people, people you read about in those true crime books or see on TV shows. I am not a victim.
And Sam is not a victimizer. Sure, in bed he can be rough, but it’s always at my behest.
Thad paused there in the rain to think about their lovemaking, which was anything but gentle. It was often hard and ruthless, full of not nips but bites, nipples twisted beyond pleasure into pain, punches to the chest that left marks….
And I loved it all. Sam knows it. He wouldn’t go there if I hadn’t shown him how much I loved it. For Christ’s sake, rough sex does not make the guy a killer—or a werewolf.
That’s ridiculous.
But as Thad walked on through the night and the downpour, he slowed his pace. He was already soaked; a few more drops would make no difference. He began thinking about something that had nagged at him since early this morning… Domenic, Sam’s son. He pictured the young man in his mind’s eye: the handsome countenance, chiseled and stubbled, like out of some tough-guy thug porno. He considered Domenic’s powerful shoulders, the biceps that tested the endurance of his always-black T-shirts, and the way he seldom smiled. The look could be alluring, surly and sexy, but it could also be viewed as cruel.
Why had Sam sent his own son away so quickly, almost as if he were rushing him out of the country?
Thad stopped in the shadows, his heart thudding. Did Domenic know something about his father? Something that could destroy the man? Was that why he had been banished back to the old country?
Stop it. These thoughts are lunacy.
There’s that word again! I need to talk to Sam and maybe even lay out my fears, ridiculous as they may be. If I don’t, any chance the two of us might have to make good on what was a very promising beginning could be lost.
Is that what I want?
THAD OPENED his door to find Jared on his love seat with Edith curled up beside him, as if she didn’t even notice Thad had left. Thad stared at the back of Jared’s blond head, at the TV on in front of him, playing an episode of Top Chef, at a bowl of freshly popped corn on the coffee table and a glass of Coke sitting next to it.
The scene was so homey and domestic that Thad wondered if he had stepped into the wrong apartment, if indeed he had stepped into the wrong life. It suddenly seemed as though his life were an episode of Twilight Zone with the premise that he had never existed at all, and that a young blond man named Jared lived in his studio, owned his dog, slept in his bed…. And Jared had never heard of Thad.
But then Jared must have heard him come in, because he turned and smiled at Thad. “The show’s just starting. I can pause it while you get comfy. There’s enough popcorn here for two. That is if you’re not too full of all that eye-talian crap. I just took Edith out, so you can relax.”
Thad stood still at the door, not sure how he felt about Jared making himself so at home. On one hand it was comforting to come in after an awkward and confusing night with someone you thought you loved and find another someone waiting for you. Jared was simple and uncomplicated. He made Thad laugh. He was close to his own age, and in spite of Thad’s passionate entanglement with Sam, Jared was sexy as hell. There was a kind of warmth to having Jared here, almost as if they were a couple who had lived together for a long time.
On the other hand Thad wondered, as he grabbed some sweats and a flannel
shirt from his dresser and headed into the bathroom to discreetly change, if he wouldn’t have just preferred to have come back and found the apartment empty. Part of him simply wanted the time alone to be depressed, to be angry, to sulk, to lick at his wounds. That part wanted solitary time to think about Sam, to decide if his fears were irrational and if he needed to rudely push them aside so his romance with this hot man could continue onward, unabated.
Part of him wanted Edith to himself! Jared had his own dogs, anyway. And who the hell was looking after them at the moment?
But there was little he could do right now but accept the fact that Jared had made the decision to stay, even though Thad had assumed he would have gone back to his own place while Thad was having dinner with Sam. He understood. Jared was probably still afraid of being alone. Who wouldn’t be? And Thad knew he should have the selfless heart to welcome his friend into his home, even if it was for another night, or even a few days, so he could calm down and let the horrific memories fade a bit before he faced time alone.
So he plopped down on the couch next to Jared and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl. Their thighs touched. Jared aimed the remote at the TV and started Top Chef going again. “It’s the Quick Fire Challenge,” he said.
“Cool.” Thad leaned back into the couch, patted Edith’s head, and let his own head slide onto Jared’s shoulder.
Chapter 12
THAD AWAKENED the next morning to the sound of rain drumming against his window. Even though the alarm clock on his bedside table read a quarter after nine, it still appeared almost as dark as night outside. The wind howled. A low-hanging branch banged intermittently against his front window. The bed, pillow, and covers were a warm cocoon.
He felt safe, secure. He was still too drowsy to think of his awkward meeting with Sam the night before and his troubling thoughts about the man and his family. Right now he simply felt warm, snuggled down under his comforter, the body-heated pillows bunched beneath his head. In seconds, he knew, he could drift right back into a deep slumber.
An arm went over his shoulder, and he felt a warm body press against his back. Thad closed his eyes, guilty for not first imagining the body pressed up against him was Sam’s. It was Jared’s. In addition to the warmth radiating from Jared’s body, an insistent erection also poked at the back of Thad’s boxers.
Thad didn’t move away. Yet he wasn’t sure what he should do once he felt Jared begin to thrust against his backside. Should he reach down and pull off his boxers, let nature take its course?
In spite of his feelings and doubts about Sam, he simply couldn’t travel that road. Things were still too unsettled between them. Thad was a one-man man, always had been. And he could tell, from Jared’s even breathing just a degree north of a snore, that he still slept and wasn’t putting the moves on Thad.
So Thad grabbed his friend’s hand and pulled it off him, then turned to lie flat on his back, positioning himself so Jared would be forced to move away. He glanced over at Jared, still asleep, blond hair askew against the pillow, the pale brown stubble on his face, the slightly parted Cupid’s-bow lips that caused a nearly irresistible urge in Thad to plant a lingering kiss on them.
Where would be the harm?
The harm would be that it would just add more confusion to the mix, and Thad was already mixed up enough as it was. The sight of Jared turning his head toward him, licking his lips, and opening his eyes to stare at him interrupted Thad’s thoughts. Jared’s eyes were the bluest he had ever seen. So different from Sam’s.
Jared reached over and stroked Thad’s face for a minute, smiling. “I was dreaming about you.” His voice was husky from sleep.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Never mind.” Thad made himself scoot over so Jared’s hand fell away from his face. The touch was making his own dick harden, in spite of his best intentions. And his dick had been known to pull a demonic possession routine on him in the past, and he needed to stay strong.
“Do I have morning breath?” Jared asked. He stretched and lowered the comforter so his arms and part of his chest emerged. Thad couldn’t help but notice the downy pale brown hair that coated his friend’s forearms and his smooth, muscled chest.
So unlike Sam.
“We both do, so don’t worry about it. Did you sleep okay?”
“Mmmm…. Thanks for letting me crash here. Don’t worry. I can probably head back today. I have things to do, dogs to take care of… and messes, I am so sure, to clean up. I also eventually have to go to work. And I have to be by myself sometime.”
Thad was surprised by the twinge of sadness that went through him as he contemplated Jared leaving. But what else would he do? They were just pals, right? Jared couldn’t exactly stay there forever. Could he?
Why not? Forget about Sam. Maybe Edith would enjoy the company of Jared’s dogs; they could be like siblings to her.
The thought rose up almost like another voice in his head. Thad told it to hush. “You take your time. I don’t mind you being here.”
Jared reached down and squeezed Thad’s cock.
“I can tell.” He laughed, and Thad was confronted by two conflicting emotions: lust and betrayal. The former from down below, the latter from his head.
He elbowed Jared’s hand away. “Behave, you!” To cut off the direction things were heading, Thad sat up. “I need to take Edith out, and then I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Will you bring it to me in bed? On a tray with two pieces of lightly buttered toast and a couple soft-boiled eggs?” Jared batted his eyelashes, grinning.
“Don’t press your luck, buddy. In fact, since I am going to be braving the rain outside with Edith, why don’t you make the coffee?” Thad stood and struggled into the sweats and shirt from the night before. “Beans are in the freezer, grinder in the cupboard above that. You know where the pot is.”
“You’re no fun.” Jared got up from bed. His body was graceful, defined, and his plaid boxers tented outward with his morning wood. Thad questioned his sanity in turning away this offering.
Edith hopped impatiently against his leg. He looked down at her as if she knew what she was interrupting and was doing it for Thad’s own good. “Thanks, sweetie.” He scooped her up and went over to the door, where her leash and collar hung on a hook. “Be back in a few.”
“’Kay.” Jared trotted into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Before Thad could get outside, he could hear the rush of pee hitting against the water in the bowl.
When he got back, Thad smelled the coffee brewing. Again he was struck by how homey and domestic things seemed with Jared there. Jared had already found two mismatched mugs from his cupboard and set them out on the breakfast bar, along with the pint carton of half-and-half from the fridge and the canister of sugar from his counter. He had pulled off some paper towels from the roll above the sink and put out two spoons. A pot of water boiled on the stove, the egg carton beside it, and bread sat in the toaster.
One thing Thad could say about Jared was that he was not pretentious.
But he was thoughtful.
“You makin’ us some breakfast? You didn’t have to do that.”
“Soft-boiled eggs and toast isn’t exactly hard. Dry your hair off and grab a stool. This will be ready in….” Jared stopped talking long enough to lower four eggs into the boiling pot and push the bread down in the toaster. “Four minutes.”
Soon the remains of their breakfast—yolks, bits of egg white, and bread crusts—sat before them. Thad set his plate on the floor so Edith could lick up the remains of the egg. When she finished, he held the plate up to Jared. “All clean. Just put it back in the cupboard.” The plate did sparkle. And Jared smiled.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking this whole time that maybe you and I need to find out what’s going on here, play a little detective, if you will. We need to do this so another gay dude in Seattle doesn’t get ripped
to shreds. Especially when the dude could be one of us.”
Uneasily a thought rose in Thad’s mind, borne up by his subconscious. He hadn’t considered it before, but now it made perfect sense… and it caused a shiver to course through him. The problem’s been taken care of. It’s been sent back to Italy. But he didn’t say that. He realized that if doing something proactive like this would help Jared conquer his fears, then he would be happy to do it. “So where were you thinking we should start?”
“Good question. Do you remember that killing last September? In the Arboretum?”
Thad nodded and sipped at his coffee, which had now gone tepid.
“Well, if you recall, I am not the only one who witnessed a killing. The news reports at the time said there were some other guys who saw what happened, or at least had a glimpse.”
“Yeah, I remember that. But it also said something like they couldn’t recall much of what they had seen. It was dark and over so fast.”
“Right. That’s what the papers reported. But maybe they were like me. Maybe they were too afraid to talk about it. Maybe, like me, they were too afraid of the images in their own minds to give them any credence.”
“You could be right about that.” Thad got up to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. He held up the pot to Jared and raised his eyebrows.
Jared shook his head. “Another cup will put me on the toilet for the next two hours.”
“Lovely.”
“Get over it. While you were at dinner last night, I managed to call a reporter from one of the papers. You know, that alternative weekly? Anyway, it took me a few times with a few different folks, but eventually I was able to get the names of the witnesses.”
“Really?” Thad sat back down with his coffee. He was surprised it had been that easy.
