Ward wasn’t stopping with Jacoby’s orgasm. No, he was going to throw Jacoby so far over the edge that he’d have a hell of a climb back up. In the process, he might kill himself, but he’d be fine going out that way.
He’d had enough whiskey to get moody and semi-sloppy, two things he avoided most in life.
Most people avoided killers. He avoided moods.
He shoved that out of his mind and concentrated on his dick, still hard, because he hadn’t let himself come after Jacoby came quickly. Ward’s dominance in bed turned him on, and now, Ward grabbed his arms and jerked them over his head.
Jacoby’s eyes opened wide, and then he smiled, an easy, floaty smile. Ward could’ve gotten him to agree to anything at the moment. Instead, he cuffed Jacoby’s wrists together and around a headboard slat and set his sights on breaking the bed or himself…whichever came first.
He grabbed Jacoby’s thigh and hoisted it over his shoulder, leaving Jacoby open to him. Then he took Jacoby’s other leg and bent it at the knee and held onto Jacoby’s calf.
“Jesus Christ,” Jacoby breathed. “Ward…”
That last part came out as a partial whimper, because Ward began to take him, his cockhead hitting Jacoby’s prostate mercilessly. Jacoby couldn’t do anything to stop it—Ward was crossing that pleasure/pain line with each rock of his hips. “You can keep calling my name—try your best to wake up the neighbors.”
He gave an extra slam of his hips with his last words, and Jacoby’s eyes widened, and a long, low moan stuttered out from deep in his throat before it was “Ward” and “Please” and “More, now—hurry”…and Ward did exactly what Jacoby wanted.
Jacoby’s body was pliable under his, and there was nothing more beautiful than the man under him accepting everything Ward had to give him, and more. And Ward gave him everything, all their pain and anger…their shame and fear, and he channeled it through him and into Jacoby. When Jacoby came, it was with a howl that shook Ward—and then Jacoby’s body stiffened, taut like a tight bow as he spurted between their bellies and chests. He took Ward with him, and Ward kept himself buried so deeply inside Jacoby, planting his seed, claiming his man…loving every second of this they had. Making up for lost time. Burying his face against Jacoby’s neck and breathing in the man’s life force as fiercely as he could.
*
In the aftermath, Ward reached out and grabbed for the cigarettes on the nightstand. He lit two at once and handed one to Jacoby, who took it gratefully. Because there was nothing like a cigarette after sex like that—hot, sweaty, mind-blowing, you’re gonna ache like a motherfucker after it but it’s so worth it sex.
Ward had delivered. Twice. And he was being a goddamned smug bastard about it now, especially when Jacoby winced as he shifted.
“What was that you were saying about all show?”
Jacoby groaned and attempted to find a comfortable position on his side. “You’re such a prick. You can’t even have a breakdown correctly.”
Ward lifted a brow. “I guess you’re the one to teach me.”
“Someone has to.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was nearly three in the morning, the witching hour, the time of night Ward always woke during and prayed for sleep.
Tonight, that wouldn’t happen. Not when he glanced at the security cameras and saw the body on the front doorstep.
How the front perimeters hadn’t been tripped, he didn’t take the time to figure out. He was rousing Jacoby, grabbing his weapon, and together they padded down the stairs, checking the alarms along the way.
“Still safe and sound in here,” Jacoby confirmed.
Ward had to agree, but the second they opened that door, the world came back in. His hand closed in on the doorknob, and Jacoby’s closed over his. “Before that,” Jacoby murmured. “We’ll deal with it. Whatever it is.”
Numbly, Ward nodded. He cupped Jacoby’s chin with his free hand, just needing to stare into those obsidian depths for a few seconds to get his equilibrium back.
When he moved his hand away, Jacoby removed his. Ward opened the door and they discovered a dead man, laid out on his back, naked…with his own dick in his mouth.
“That’s a message,” Jacoby said woodenly. He never thought he’d ever feel badly for a serial, and he didn’t, but it was still goddamned horrifying to witness. “That’s definitely him.”
“You recognize him from the sketch…”
“I remember him. He looks the same,” Jacoby said shortly. “If we match his DNA, Jessica will have handed us the Couples Killer.”
“And possibly Bren’s source. Student thought he’d become the teacher. In reality…” Ward trailed off.
“I’m grateful it’s not Bren. But what the fuck—is this a psycho peace offering?” Jacoby wondered out loud, mainly to keep himself out of his own head.
“Let’s just get a name.” Ward pulled out his phone and called in Jude and Leo, and then he and Jacoby stood there, staring between the body and Ward’s front lawn. The house was alarmed behind them, as was the perimeter, but both men had their hands on their weapons.
Time stretched, minutes turning into hours until the sound of cars slid through the quiet, cutting through Jacoby’s glaze.
Ward actually put a hand on Jacoby’s shoulder and shook him to rouse him further. “Don’t go there. Wherever your mind’s going, come back to me.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Jacoby assured him. “It’s just…she’s not this subtle.”
“This is subtle? J, there’s a dick in his mouth. And if I know her, she cut it off when he was alive.”
Jacoby winced. “I know, but…” He shook his head, anxious for Leo to get here. He didn’t like fucking with the guy’s crime scenes—he’d seen what Leo did to those who did. “I have to turn him over.”
Ward nodded and handed him gloves. Ward snapped on his own and gingerly, they eased Jasper’s back off the stone…
The carvings were unmistakable. Her signature. And she’d taken the time to clean him up so the words would be clear.
Miss you, Brother. I punished him for you…
*
Bren woke in a blind panic. He couldn’t move or see or talk. He was imprisoned within himself. The last thing he remembered was taking a drink from the soda she’d handed him. It was unopened, so he’d figured he was safe.
You trusted the wrong person.
“Ah, Bren, you’re awake. Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t be too out of it to enjoy this.” Jessica smiled. He felt her touch linger on his chest and in between his legs.
They were both naked. He reacted inside his mind and she must’ve seen his panic. It caused her to smile in an almost delighted way and his heart rate surged. He was going to die right here and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Don’t struggle—you’ll enjoy it more,” she assured him. “I know you’re curious about the jobs I do, the rapes, what it feels like to be totally helpless. I figured it was best to show you. I do this to the men before I carve and kill them, but don’t worry—you’re not a special case. I want you to be able to write my story with a certain perspective you wouldn’t have had otherwise. And if you don’t write the book, I promise you I’ll come back and finish the job.”
She wasn’t kidding. This was going to happen. As her body slid up and down his, he couldn’t stop the sensations flooding him or the way he responded. The pleasure was heightened and repulsive at once, making the mixture of panic and disgust worse.
Which was her intention.
“You know why I chose you, Bren?” She whispered the reason in his ear, her voice breathy, on the verge of orgasm and his started in conjunction with the silent scream that began inside his head and would probably never stop.
*
You’re a sin eater, Ward, so I’ll make you eat my sins.
Those words echoed inside his head as the nightmare gripped him. He struggled, the way he had for the days she’d kept him her hostage, taunting him, forcing him to admit his worst fe
ars and desires to her. She’d drugged him, which helped those confessions along. Whatever she’d dosed him with allowed him to be cognizant of what he admitted without being able to control or stop it.
The things she’d told him in return—they’d played truth or dare, confession for confession until he’d pass out and she’d rouse him for another round—made his stomach clench. She’d opened his mouth and literally forced the darkest parts of herself inside of him and he imbibed them and prayed the darkness didn’t completely take him over.
He woke with a start, but no shout—he’d trained that out of him. He’d told himself it was for his own good, but in the back of his mind it was because he hoped that, one day, Jacoby would be next to him again.
That day had come, but instead of not waking Jacoby, Jacoby was already awake, watching him in the dark, an expression he couldn’t quite interpret on his face.
“Sorry,” he muttered. Jacoby got up, went into the bathroom. A few seconds of running water later, he was back with wet washcloths. Ward was sitting up and Jacoby knelt next to him and wiped him down, face and body, and then he covered Ward when he started to shiver.
How many had he seen? Had he only been pretending to sleep the past few times?
They had so much to talk about. Four days admitting his flaws and foibles, his fears and wants. She knew them, knew the depth of his feelings for Jacoby too.
Ultimately, Jessica brought them together and then she tore them apart viciously. Neither man would let her do it again—that much, Ward was sure of. They’d both lost too much to do otherwise.
It’d taken Ward months of intense physical therapy in order to get back to work. Longer still to put his mind back to some semblance of where it was. Every agent who went into profiling lived with the imminent threat of getting too close, too involved, too wrapped up in their work. There was a trail of failed marriages, families, kids who hated you, miles long out of the Farm.
What no one told you was how vulnerable you really were to the whims of the monsters you chased. How easy it was to be captured and tortured…and how that never left you for as long as you lived.
It was a terrible price. For Ward, it was worth it, if for no other reason than the man lying next to him in the dark.
Now, Jacoby lit him a cigarette and Ward continued his hundred-yard stare at the ceiling. “We need to find her before she comes back for us.”
With that, Ward’s cell phone began to ring. He grabbed it, said hello and realized they were too late for that already.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“He sounds weak, but coherent,” Ward offered as he raced down the highway toward the bureau’s helipad. Neither man wanted to call in the local police to the scene—it would result in bloodshed and a fucked up scene, but they had no choice. “And he said he’s alone. I told him to lock the door and keep the phone in his hand.”
Jacoby nodded, his entire body tense. It was a good call on Ward’s part, because Jessica might be waiting to slaughter any cops who came to Bren’s rescue…or she might be waiting for him and Ward.
Bren had been gone for close to five days. Jasper had showed up on their doorstep twelve hours earlier.
“He’s alive,” Ward said firmly. “Focus on that.”
“Alive,” Jacoby echoed. But the two of them both knew how Jessica could make being alive the most unlucky state of all.
Dammit.
Ward barely braked before the men launched themselves out of their truck and into the waiting bird. Leo was already on board, headphones on, looking serious. Before takeoff, Jacoby called Bren to tell him they’d be there in twenty minutes and to just hang on…and goddamn, the man sounded broken as fuck.
“Police are outside the motel room door—they’ve confirmed Bren is inside and alone, but they’re leaving him be as they search the rest of the premises,” Ward told him over the din and Jacoby nodded numbly as the steel bird rose and whirred over the city toward their destination. This would cut their time to nothing—and the faster they could get to Bren, the better. “We have permission to bring him back on this?”
Leo answered that one. “He’s evidence.”
Jacoby had to swallow back what little he had in his stomach. As if he knew, Leo leaned forward and rubbed the back of his neck, subtly working pressure points to stop the nausea. For the moment, at least.
When they were boots on the ground, they got into the waiting car with an agent from the FBI’s nearest field office. Thankfully, he spoke little and drove fast, getting them to the secured locale easily.
“No press,” Ward said.
“Yet,” Jacoby added. “Let’s work fast to get him out.”
“Get him to the bird, then come back and get me,” Leo told them.
“I’ll go in first,” Jacoby said and began walking, leaving no room for argument with Ward or Leo. Neither man gave him one. He knocked on room nine’s door, calling, “Bren, it’s Jacoby—let me in.”
Almost immediately, the door cracked open and Bren’s face peeked out. Jacoby elbowed his way in and Bren slammed the door behind Jacoby before stumbling against him and grabbing his shoulders.
“Is it true?” he slur-shouted as Jacoby registered the fact that he was naked. “Fuck, it can’t be true!”
“Bren, what the hell.” Jacoby reached up to steady him, since Bren’s hands kept slipping off his shoulders. Ward came in with a quick shake of his head. It’d been a long shot and she wouldn’t have given Bren access to call unless she was far enough away from the scene.
“He’s been drugged,” Jacoby told Ward.
“Is it true?” Bren screeched into his ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bren, so calm the fuck down and tell me,” Jacoby demanded.
That seemed to snap Bren out of it. He swayed a little still, but he got quiet…and there was a terrible look in his eyes, one that actually sent a shiver down Jacoby’s spine. Bren looked away for a long moment and then he could barely meet Jacoby’s gaze when he managed a strangled whisper. “Jessica said she’s my half sister.”
And then he pitched forward into Jacoby’s arms and began to sob. They were more like howls, the gut-wrenching ones which told Jacoby that Bren believed what he’d said was true.
“What is he talking about?” Ward asked. Jacoby noted that Leo had also come into the room, but Jacoby had been too focused on Bren’s breakdown.
“Check his phone—look for a note,” Jacoby said woodenly. He held onto Bren, who was actually holding onto him for dear life.
Just because she said it doesn’t mean it’s true. We’ll need a DNA test…
Whether Bren had made the connection that he and Jacoby would also be related, if what Jessica said were true, Jacoby had no idea. Mentally, he ran Bren’s age against his and Jessica’s, trying to figure out where and how Bren would fit into the puzzle of his life. How would Jacoby and Jessica not have noticed that their mom was pregnant?
Unless…
Dad. In which case, Bren would more than likely escape the viper-like, psychotic tendencies.
Ward came out of the bathroom, holding a baggie with a small bottle. “Rohypnol.”
The date rape drug.
Rape.
And Bren was naked.
Bren, who’d stopped the deep sobs and tried to actually pull himself together and breathe.
“Jesus, Bren, did she…” He stopped, then stared over Bren’s head at Ward. “We’ll need a rape kit.”
“Fuck no.” Bren tried to fight him off.
“Bren, come on—it’s important. For your health,” Jacoby implored, and fuck, who was he kidding? He was horrified for Bren, whether or not Jessica was telling the truth about their DNA.
“We’ll do it privately. You won’t need the hospital,” Ward said, looked to Leo for confirmation.
Because Leo worked on the living and the dead. An oddity among medical examiners. “Better we get it done before we move him.”
At those words, Bren ran to the
bathroom and threw up.
“Now that’s a reaction I’ve definitely had before,” Leo muttered. He followed Bren, rubbing his back as he retched. “That’s it—get all that poison out of you.”
Leo was always there when Ward needed him, but behind the inherent kindness was a kind of hauntedness that emanated from him.
Ward seemed to gravitate toward the type…or maybe we gravitate to Ward.
“We need to get him out of here,” Jacoby told Ward and Leo.
Within a few minutes, Ward and Leo called in Jude to secure the crime scene, and Bren was wrapped in blankets and ushered onto the helo. As Leo had said softly, “It’ll keep.”
It’s not like they needed the evidence to pin the crime to Jessica. They knew it was her.
Forty minutes later, they were bringing Bren into Ward’s house, the way Jacoby had been years earlier. Leo helped him into the downstairs guest bedroom, telling them, “I think he’ll be okay with just me examining him, unless…”
“It’s okay, Leo. We’re right here if either of you need us.” Ward closed the door gently, and then, for the first time in many hours, he and Jacoby were alone.
“J,” was all he managed before gathering Jacoby in his arms. At first, Jacoby was like stone, but gradually, he thawed and melted against Ward’s body. He buried his face against Ward’s shoulder. Ward rubbed his back and his hair. “We’ll figure it out. Bren will be all right.”
“How can he be?” Jacoby murmured. “You were right—he was one hell of a pawn.”
“This is a time I wish I wasn’t right,” Ward said, because he had never envisioned anything remotely like this.
“You know what the most fucked up part of this is? I actually might’ve had a normal living family member, but not anymore.”
The gallows humor made Ward hug him a little harder.
After he finished with Bren, Leo would swab Jacoby for DNA and then destroy that evidence. No matter the result, there was digging to be done on Bren’s background.
After more than an hour had passed, they heard the shower begin to run. Fifteen minutes later, Leo emerged from the guest bedroom, closing Bren inside. Ward had the windows alarmed against Bren leaving…or anyone coming in to get him.
Rule of Thirds (A Mirror Novel Book 1) Page 15
