“Yeah, it’s not pretty, that’s for sure,” the sheriff replied in a grim voice.
“I’ll call in a favor and get an agent out here. Two hours tops.”
The sheriff thanked him distractedly as it seemed someone else was trying to get the man’s attention, and they ended the call.
Yas wouldn’t be happy about the early morning callout, but she owed him a few favors and there wasn’t anyone else at the Houston FBI office he trusted more. Plus on the small chance the person who’d been perpetrating these crimes was connected to the ALP, it’d probably be prudent to have some backup on the ground with him.
Matt had disappeared into the doorless bathroom, and Gabe trailed over to find him brushing his teeth. He stepped over and helped himself to the bottle of mouthwash, shooting Matt a quick grin as their eyes met in the mirror.
“Sorry about the wake-up call. Tends to happen in my line of work,” he said once he’d rinsed his mouth and Matt had put his toothbrush away.
“S’okay,” Matt said with a shrug as he turned to face him and leaned against the counter, a hint of self-consciousness in his posture.
Ah yes. The morning after. Fraught with awkward conversation and silent questions about what happens now. If he’d wanted a one-night stand, he would have immediately dressed, kissed Matt, told him last night was awesome, and left with a smile. But instead of scratching an itch, so to speak, and getting his infatuation with Matt out of his system, it’d done the complete opposite. If he hadn’t been here working and had people relying on him to get shit done, he would have convinced Matt the only place they needed to be all day was naked in bed.
He reached down and took Matt’s hand, slowly but suggestively shifting closer. “A work call definitely wasn’t how I wanted to wake up this morning. So many other ways I could imagine starting the day.”
A hint of color bloomed across Matt’s cheeks, even as his eyes darkened. “Last night—”
“Was amazing.” He canted his hips into Matt’s, trapping him against the counter, enjoying the way his breathing hitched.
“I wasn’t sure—I mean about this morning.” Matt’s hands slid over his chest. “Last night was great. I’ve just never done this sort of thing before.”
“This sort of thing?” he repeated, understanding, but wanting to see how Matt clarified the two of them.
“Met someone and slept with them the same day or night. A one-night stand, I suppose.” Matt’s expression creased a little and Gabe could practically see the thoughts spinning around his mind.
“I’d prefer it if this wasn’t.” He leaned in and feathered his lips up Matt’s neck.
“Wasn’t what?” Matt arched, tilting his head back to give him better access.
“Not a one-night stand. I like you,” he said against his skin, just below his ear. Matt shuddered in his arms, and Gabe had to repress a smug grin. “You’re smart and successful and cute and have a wicked sense of humor, and last night you nearly blew my mind with nothing more than your hand. Don’t take this the wrong way, but every spare minute I’ve got this week when I’m not working, I’d like to spend it with you.”
Matt seemed to freeze beneath his touch, and he pulled back, thinking he’d gone too far and come on too strongly. But when he caught Matt’s gaze, his eyes were wide with surprise and pleasure.
“Really?” Matt blurted out like he couldn’t believe a word of it. The guy seriously had no idea how amazing he was.
“Well.” He drew the word out, making sure to add a teasing note. “If you’ve got something better to do….”
He started to step back, but Matt clamped both hands on his ass and held him in place, blue eyes sparking. Oh yeah. Matt might look borderline twink, but the guy had the sexual agency of a much more cocksure guy. Gabe had to say, the contrast was one hell of a turn-on.
“I definitely want that.” There was no doubt in Matt’s voice or expression, only warm anticipation. “I’m booked in for two weeks, but depending on how things go with my cousin, I could end up leaving sooner.”
“Cousin?” he repeated, that innate curiosity he could never smother sharpening. Matt had said something about family obligations bringing him out when they’d been changing the tire.
“Younger. Kind of like a brother. Basically, he ran away from home and I promised my aunt and my mom that I’d bring him back.” Matt added a casual shrug to the words as though it was a minor inconvenience, however there was a tension in his features that didn’t match the light tone. “What about you? How long are you in town for?”
He got the distinct impression Matt was trying to steer him away from his family matters, but he let it go. Wasn’t really any of his business, anyway. “The FBI’s got me here for a week. But I can extend if I need to. We can just take it day by day.”
An odd ringing sounded in the main room—actually, it was the Game of Thrones theme song—and Matt glanced toward the doorway.
“You need to get that?” he asked as indecision passed over Matt’s features, teeth appearing to worry his lower lip.
“It’s just Sammie,” Matt replied, returning his attention to him as the music stopped. “I’ll call him back later.”
“And Sammie is…?” Gabe wanted to slap himself after the words slipped out. He couldn’t blame that on his perennial need to know everything all the time. There’d definitely been a hint of jealousy buried in the words, even if Matt hadn’t picked up on it.
“Best friend and business partner.” A content kind of smile accompanied the words, but somehow, Gabe could see however deeply Matt cared about Sammie, it was entirely platonic.
“Call him back now.” Gabe leaned in and helped himself to a deep but thorough kiss, before finally stepping back. “I need to get going anyway. If it looks like I’ve got time for lunch later, I’ll call you.”
Matt trailed him out of the bathroom and across the room, holding the door open as Gabe stepped into the bright early-morning sunshine streaking across the parking lot.
“Have a good day,” Matt told him with a small wave.
“You too,” he replied, finding the exchange oddly…. Not domestic. But comfortable. Like he could get used to Matt bidding him goodbye every morning as he headed off to work. He shook the weird thought out of his head and hurried into his own room to dress for the day.
As he got on the road to Conroe—the next town over where the victim had been taken to the larger hospital—he called Yas, expecting to get her voicemail. She was one of those people who pretty much never answered their phone and was forever calling people back later. Except on the sixth ring, it connected.
“Lopez,” she greeted over a yawn. “Why in the hell are you calling me so early? I thought you were physically incapable of waking up before seven.”
“So did I.” The yawn was contagious, even over the phone. He tensed his jaw against the automatic reflex, but it still got him. The need for decent coffee was riding him like a demon. “But I got my own wake-up call. Listen, what have you got on the books this week?”
“Couple of ongoing investigations. Mostly boring stuff. Two different white-collar crimes and a cyber thing that might not even be a thing until I get some more information. Why, what do you need?”
“Think I could use some backup. That white-nationalist group I’m doing a profile on, the American Liberty Patriots, they’re definitely becoming more active. The locals have an open case involving threats and vandalism that, as of last night, has stepped up to physical harm. Got a guy in the hospital in Conroe who was severely beaten.”
“I’ll run it by Foley, but shouldn’t be a problem. You get a head start on interviewing the victim, and I’ll review when I get out there.”
Yas had agreed far more readily than he’d expected. If he was a city boy unhappy about being stuck in the middle of nowhere, then compared to Yas, that was a mild annoyance. She’d consider it some form of torture and had always done everything she could to avoid any assignments outside Houston city limits.
Things really must have been boring back at the office.
“Last I heard, he was still unconscious, but if he comes around before you get here, I’ll speak to him straightaway.” He made the turn toward Conroe, leaving the small town of Everness on a different road to the one he’d driven in on yesterday coming from Houston.
“Okay, see you in a few hours. Oh, and Lopez?” Yas paused momentarily, and he made a noise to indicate he was still listening. “Watch your back until I get there.”
He agreed before disconnecting the call, not liking the hint of unease settling within him at Yas’s warning. Yeah, maybe sending him to investigate a racist cult who were known to target Mexicans and Hispanics—anyone of color, really—hadn’t been the best idea. Add in the whole gay thing and he was the antipathy of everything they stood for. But he wasn’t going to let a bunch of bigots stop him from doing his job.
Even so, he double-checked the road behind him as he increased his speed outside of the town limits, just to make sure he wasn’t being followed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS almost lunchtime when Matt decided he needed to get out of his motel room and maybe out of his own head. He’d done some more cyber-stalking on Thomas and the group he’d joined, then spoken to his mom and Aunt Katie to let them know where things stood. And hadn’t that been a fun conversation? Aunt Katie had apparently been clueless about Thomas’s extracurricular activities, and then tearfully explained that his father had held a lot of the same views and Thomas must have picked it up over the years when he went to visit for weekends and school breaks.
Whatever way Thomas had arrived at his current life choices didn’t help Matt. He needed a plan to contact his cousin and work out if he could still salvage something from this mess. Part of him was really starting to think he should leave Thomas to his own devices, consequences be damned. But once again, the mantle of family sat heavy on his shoulders, and besides, he was too stubborn to give up until he’d exhausted all possibilities.
Matt checked his phone, even though it’d remained silent all morning—nothing from Gabe, who was no doubt busy working his case. Well, he wasn’t going to sit around waiting for a lunch invite that probably wouldn’t come. He grabbed his stuff and headed out into the late-morning heat. As he pulled the door closed behind him, he spotted a piece of paper flapping under the windshield wiper of his rental car. Some kind of pamphlet, he realized as he drew closer. He plucked it out, not thinking too much about it until he turned it over.
His blood turned to ice in his veins, breath catching in his throat as the words homosexuality is a sickness of the soul jumped out at him, along with graphic depictions of men he assumed were sick with AIDS back in the late eighties. Underneath it talked about the “cure” being God’s love and hope for all sinners in repenting their sinful ways.
Stomach churning, he glanced up to look around the parking lot, checking he was alone, but also looking for evidence that this was just a pamphlet drop and he hadn’t been purposefully targeted. However, there were no other cars in the motel lot and no way to determine if he’d just been unlucky to be here when the local Bible-thumpers were on some kind of homophobic drive or something more concerning was going on.
He crumpled the pamphlet, hands shaking slightly, a delayed spark of anger lighting up within him. He’d been on the receiving end of slurs once or twice, but growing up in San Francisco—arguably the gay capital of America—he’d been somewhat insulated from the bigotry many people still held on to when it came to same-sex relationships or anything to do with the LGBTQI+ community.
Covertly glancing around again as he slid behind the wheel of his rental, he told himself he’d just gotten a little spooked and had totally imagined the unsettling sense that someone was watching him. He tossed the offending pamphlet in the footwell of the passenger side and forced himself not to think about other people’s idiocy and narrow-mindedness.
He drove the short distance to the diner—no longer hungry but determined he wasn’t going to sit in his motel room and stew about Thomas or the pamphlet or wait like some besotted puppy for Gabe to call him.
He ordered a chicken club sandwich and texted Sammie while he was waiting for his food, but the responses were short and often took a few minutes to come back—his best friend was probably busy at their shop. He gave up when he dropped a hint about the previous night’s activities and Sammie didn’t even notice.
Partly, he was dying to tell his BFF about the crazy amazing hours he’d spent with the hot FBI analyst he barely knew, but the other half of him was second-guessing everything. This wasn’t him. He didn’t do things like this. Had never slept with someone he’d known less than twenty-four hours. Didn’t throw himself into a situation without examining all the angles and possible outcomes first.
He didn’t know what the hell he was doing with Gabe or how it was going to turn out, but that sense of the unknown was actually kind of thrilling. It had to be Gabe making the reckless seem perfectly reasonable. He’d never met someone he’d so instantly clicked with. Felt so unquestionably at ease with even though he hardly knew anything except the basics about the guy.
From the first moment their lips had touched, Matt felt something shift and settle inside him, like kissing Gabe was something he was meant to do. Waking up next to him this morning, legs tangled and arms around each another, his body had recognized Gabe like home, like waking up warm and content in his own bed under his 500TC bamboo sheets. It sounded crazy. He felt crazy thinking it. But there was no escaping the things Gabe made him feel, which he had no rational explanation for.
Maybe Sammie and Gabe were both right. He needed to stop overthinking things and do something for himself for a change, just because it was fun. If it felt right, then it surely wouldn’t do him any harm and he could go back to San Fran with a whole bunch of fun memories—that one time he’d had a holiday fling with a sexy FBI analyst.
The sandwich arrived and turned out to be not half-bad, but he was definitely making do with a can of Coke instead of the coffee he really wanted. He wished there was some way Sammie could send him emergency coffee all the way from SoMa. Another day or two without a serious caffeine hit and the idea might not seem so insane any longer.
As he was finishing the sandwich, he spotted a familiar figure walking across the town square. Alone. Thomas. Without giving it a second thought, he jumped up and hurriedly flicked some money onto the table before dashing out of the diner and across the road to catch up with his cousin.
“Tommy!” he called out as he rounded the white gazebo in the middle of the picturesque town square. His cousin didn’t slow or turn around—either hadn’t heard him or was pretending otherwise.
“Thomas!” He made sure he yelled louder as he started to catch up, drawing the attention of a few other people nearby.
Tommy increased the length of his stride, shoulders hunching as he hurried. Oh, he’d definitely heard that time and was now actively trying to get away from him. Matt broke into a run the last few yards and dodged around his cousin, skidding to a stop in front of him.
Thomas scowled at him as he was forced to stop. Matt held up a hand, trying to catch his breath. Damn. He was getting unfit. Time to do something with that gym membership he paid for and never used.
“Thomas, what the hell?” he finally said when he regained some control over the panting.
Thomas shoved both hands in his pockets, expression only just short of hostile. “What do you want?”
A short, disbelieving laugh burst from his chest. “Don’t be a dumbass. You know exactly why I’m here.”
“Yeah, well, no one asked you to come.”
Thomas was doing a really great impression of a belligerent twelve-year-old. Screw that. After everything that’d happened since he’d left San Fran, he was not going to stand here and take his cousin’s immature crap.
“Actually, they did.” His voice came out tight, but not as heated as all the anger he was trying to stuff down. Meeting
Thomas with return hostility would only escalate things, when his sole purpose in coming here was to defuse. “Your mom. Remember her? Woman that gave birth to you? Raised you? Fed and clothed you? The one you left without telling goodbye or where you were going?”
“Obviously none of you can take a hint,” Thomas replied, aggravation edging into his tone. “I want to be here. This is where I belong. People understand me here. I’m not going back.”
“You can’t really think a bunch of bigoted, narrow-minded assholes will care about you more than your own family.” He honestly couldn’t understand how Tommy had ended up here. Where had his life derailed and left him thinking this was the answer?
Thomas gave a dry laugh. “You’re such a hypocrite. You’re making assumptions about what kind of people you think they are based on what? Your own prejudices. Exactly what you’re accusing them of doing.”
“That’s not the same thing.” Frustration started building, but arguing in the middle of the street wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Look, can we just go somewhere and talk? Maybe call your mom so she can hear your voice and know you’re okay. I’m not saying you have to come home right this second. I just want you to talk to me about what’s really going on. Because running away is never the answer. We can figure this out. It’s what family does.”
Some of the hostility eased from Thomas’s features, and Matt thought he was actually going to agree when two men Matt recognized from the group in the bar last night came walking up behind them. They practically radiated aggression, like they were spoiling for a fight.
“Something wrong here?” one of the guys asked, clamping a hand on Thomas’s shoulder like he was claiming his property or something.
Thomas immediately went back to antagonistic. “No, I was just telling this fag to get the fuck out of my space.”
Oh no, he God damn didn’t.
The words stabbed like an icicle into his chest. Matt hadn’t once ever really been furious with Thomas. Yes, some of the stupid shit he’d pulled as a teenager—a couple of which had required bailing out of jail—had made him angry. But he’d never felt utter fury toward him like he did right now. He’d never had anyone he cared about say something so maliciously, purposefully awful. Matt was stuck firmly between indescribable rage and intense hurt, and it was way worse coming on the heels of the pamphlet stuck under his wipers today.
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