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Edge Jump

Page 9

by Elizabeth Noble


  “Your favorite.” Rylan turned his head far enough to give Brett a smirk and a wink before looking away and blushing.

  “Hmm.” Brett stuck his hands in his pants pockets to keep from running one hand over the swell of Rylan’s ass. “No booze.”

  Rylan shivered beside Brett and swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  There was a nice buffet and plenty of non-alcoholic beverages. They each grabbed a plate and tall glasses with lemon water before circulating among the guests. A band played and many couples danced, but Brett and Rylan found a table and stayed to the side.

  “See anyone you recognize?”

  Rylan chuckled. “Yeah, lots. But no one from the other night at the club.”

  “Me either,” Brett grumbled.

  “We should go back for another check.” Rylan gave Brett’s side a poke with his thumb.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea.” Brett took a sip of his drink and gazed over the glass rim at Rylan.

  “Do your parents ever come to see you perform? I don’t remember them at any competitions either.” Brett carefully avoided looking directly at Rylan since as long as he’d known him this had been a sore spot, but one which Brett was often curious about. He reasoned given the recent change in their relationship he could ask.

  Rylan glanced around the party room before he shrugged. “My mother is always too busy flitting around Greece on her yacht with the boy toy of the month. And my father is one of those pissed off fans who thought Celia and I would get married and live happily ever after. According to him it’s impossible for him to have a gay child.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope it’s alright that I asked.”

  “I don’t really talk about them because I don’t know much about them,” Rylan confessed. He smiled at Brett. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t share with you.”

  Brett rubbed one foot along Rylan’s calf, that way he wouldn’t be breaking Kathryn Sweeny’s rules against public displays. There wasn’t much Brett could offer in words of comfort, but he needed to try. “They’re wrong, you know that.”

  “I guess there was some advantages. They did support me while I trained and competed.” Rylan laughed a little. “I am sort of surprised they haven’t asked me to pay them back with interest.” He paused long enough to take a sip of water and shift in the chair. “It’s easier to skate than sit, though I had a nice burn to remind me of the other night and that paddle.” Rylan smiled shyly and leaned forward to whisper. “It was a fantastic thing to focus on during the show. I was pretty nervous about that routine.”

  “Wow, I’d have never guessed you were even a little bit anxious about your performance. I was petrified I’d forget my speech or fall on my ass,” Brett admitted.

  Rylan blushed and glanced down at the table top. “I don’t think anyone there tonight could take their eyes off you. I know I couldn’t.”

  Brett snorted. “Probably for different reasons.” His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Holding up one finger he said, “Phone call.” Pulling the phone out he looked at the screen and frowned.

  “What?” Rylan asked.

  “This can’t be good. It’s that detective.” Brett pulled in a deep breath and answered the phone. “Detective Swift, hello.”

  Rylan scooted his chair around the table so he was closer to Brett who turned the phone so he could hear the conversation as well.

  “I’m sorry to have to bother you at this hour, however I thought you should know Clive Sebastian died a few hours ago,” Detective Swift said.

  Rylan tapped Brett’s arm and mouthed the word postcards.

  “I think we, Mr. Hennessy and I, might have some more information for you.” Brett pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his free hand.

  “I can meet you at your hotel in a half hour,” Swift said.

  “We’re at an after-show party for Celebration on Ice. There was a special tribute to my sister this evening. Would tomorrow morning be all right?” Brett asked. “At the police station?”

  Lindsay Swift blew out a breath and Brett could feel her aggravation over the phone. “Nine A.M.”

  “We’ll see you then,” Brett said and ended the call.

  As the evening wore on Brett and Rylan were offered condolences along with congratulations on the night’s show from the party guests. It was well past midnight when the gathering began breaking up.

  Once they were back in their hotel room Brett sank down to sit on the bed. “The tribute was beautiful, but damn this whole night was hard.” He rested his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Rylan moved about the room, discarding clothes and hanging them in the closet. When Rylan tapped on Brett’s shoulder, he looked up.

  “Want me to hang your suit up?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Brett stood and pulled off the jacket then his trousers. “You know for a little while the last few days I almost felt as if I might someday not be mired in grief.”

  Rylan shut the closet and sat on the bed beside Brett, putting one arm around his shoulder. Brett let Rylan pull him close and settled against him, taking comfort in the warmth from his body. He bent his head and pressed his face into Rylan’s shoulder as a shudder ripped through him. Rylan jerked in a shaky breath and Brett wrapped both arms around him, holding him tightly when Rylan began trembling.

  “I miss her.” Rylan’s voice was tight and wet.

  Brett tightened his grip even more and choked out stifled sobs against Rylan’s shoulder. He had no idea how long it was before he was able to regain control. “So do I,” Brett whispered. He sat up and inched away from Rylan, putting only a tiny bit of distance between them and held Rylan by the shoulders moving his thumbs in small circles over Rylan’s smooth skin.

  Rylan’s eyes were red and puffy but still he offered Brett a small smile. “I know I said it already, but I’m relieved you’re here, with me.” He looked at his hands and picked at one knuckle for a few seconds. “I needed you.” Rylan’s words were spoken so softly they were barely audible.

  Brett envied Rylan, he was fearless when it came to expressing his feelings. He put everything out there. He wanted to say words he knew Rylan wanted to hear, to tell him he needed Rylan as well, that he was bolstered by Rylan’s presence. All those things were true, and maybe more, but Brett couldn’t bring himself to risk saying the words.

  So, instead he leaned forward and kissed Rylan’s forehead then said, “When you skated I could feel her and what you felt, I swear.” He studied Rylan for another minute. Hurt crossed Rylan’s features, but he covered it up quickly. Brett said what he could say, “I’m relieved to be here with you too. I couldn’t do this alone.”

  Brett slid his hands down Rylan’s arms and took his hands. “I don’t know about you, but I’m completely spent.” He paused, licked his lips, and swallowed before continuing. “I hope you won’t think less of me and I did have some plans for tonight—”

  “I’m exhausted,” Rylan announced.

  “I guess we’re on the same page. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could get the motor running even a little bit.” Brett squeezed Rylan’s hands, let go and stood up. “I’m going to clean up and get some sleep.”

  Rylan reached out and took Brett’s hand. “You’ll be more comfortable and sleep better in the bed. It doesn’t mean a marriage proposal for me, I promise. I’m tired of feeling guilty because you insist on sleeping on that chair.”

  Brett nodded, but didn’t answer. Instead he went to the bathroom for a quick shower. He slipped a pair of sweat pants on and went back to the bedroom. Rylan was settled in bed with the TV playing. He looked up and smiled. “I hope you like the X-Men.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Brett slipped under the thick comforter and propped himself against the pillow. “I love them. Which one? It doesn’t matter, they’re all good.”

  Rylan scooted closer and Brett lifted his arm so Rylan could snuggle against his side. “Thank you for not sleeping in the chair.”

  Brett turned far e
nough to press a soft kiss to Rylan’s temple. “Just this once.”

  “Uh huh,” Rylan mumbled against Brett’s chest.

  All the tension and emotion from the day bled off and Brett finally relaxed. As he drifted off to sleep he made a mental note to inquire at the desk about getting his own room. The next fuzzy thought he had was he didn’t really want to be so far from Rylan.

  * * * *

  To say Rylan was nervous about taking the postcards to the police was an understatement. He held a different shirt in each hand, looking from one to the other before poking at the black jeans on the floor with his toe.

  “What are you doing?” Brett asked. He stood near the bathroom door, hair still glistening from his shower and his skin a ruddy pink from being recently scrubbed and shaved.

  Rylan was a mere few feet from him and watched every bit of moisture trickle through the hair on Brett’s chest. “I can’t decide what to wear,” he grumbled.

  Brett arched an eyebrow and tilted his head before looking down at himself and running one hand over his chest. “Do I have bugs or something?”

  “What if we’re arrested?” Rylan blurted out.

  “For what?”

  “Didn’t we withhold evidence or something?”

  Brett shook his head. “I don’t think so. And if we do get sent to the big house, don’t worry, I’ll make sure all the other guys know you’re mine.” Rylan glared then threw one of the shirts at Brett. Laughing, Brett snatched it out of the air and threw it back. “You look good in green, wear this one.” He moved closer and reached around Rylan, pulling one of his button-down shirts from the closet. “Don’t worry so much. We didn’t do anything wrong and I’m sure Detective Swift will understand why neither of us said anything about the club. She’ll probably be cranky and give us a lecture.”

  “Kathryn will be pissed if I get arrested,” Rylan grumbled as he dressed.

  “Now that I’d be worried about.” Brett finished putting on shirt and jeans and was sitting on the bed tying boot laces. He looked up at Rylan and grinned wickedly. “Maybe later you’d like to know what I’d planned for last night?”

  That brightened Rylan’s mood considerably. “I would!”

  While Brett navigated the SUV through the city streets Rylan finally said the words he’d been dreading. “The show is leaving in two days for our next stop. There’s one more after that and then we’re done for a while. I’m going to finish out the tour with them.”

  Brett nodded. “Makes sense. What will you do when your contract is up? I think it’d be a shame if you quit skating.”

  Rylan shrugged. “I tried to convince myself I could perform as a solo, but I don’t know.”

  “Maybe right now isn’t the best time to make that decision. You might feel a lot different in six months or a year. There’re always charity shows and events that need performers too,” Brett pointed out. “And you’d have a lot to give as a coach. Wait a while and think about it.”

  “Is that a job offer?”

  Brett glanced at Rylan for a second then turned his attention back to the road. “I never actually thought I’d have to be so specific, but yes. I always thought after you and Celia retired from performing you’d both be more involved with training and running things at Big Sky. All those young skaters need good role models and teachers.”

  “Wow. I. Wow, I’m a little…I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

  Brett smiled softly but kept his eyes on the road. “Now you do,” he replied.

  As they had before, they met Detective Swift at the police station. Even though they were ten minutes early she gave the impression she’d been waiting forever for them to arrive. Maybe from her point of view she had been.

  This time they followed her to a cubicle with a desk and some extra chairs beside it. Rylan slid into one chair and watched as Brett took the two postcards from his coat pocket and held them out to Detective Swift before sitting in another chair.

  She leaned against her desk and asked, “What are these?” Her question was a bit redundant since she read the postcards as she spoke. “When did you receive these?”

  Rylan cleared his throat and hoped he didn’t look and sound as utterly terrified as he was. “I…um…that first one was left at Celia’s door about a week before she died. I think we’d just gotten into the area. We usually arrive a few days before the shows begin.”

  Brett reached over and put one hand on Rylan’s forearm then spoke, “The second one was left at our door a few days ago. I’ve been in Vancouver a little over a week now. Are you familiar with the establishment in the picture, Club Frisky Flirts?”

  Detective Swift nodded. “I am. Though I want to stress not because of any trouble they’ve had there. We simply keep a list of all sorts of clubs in the city. I’ve never personally or professionally been there.”

  “My sister and her fiancé were regular patrons when they were in the area. As am I,” Brett explained and nodded to the cards. “Will these help you?” If it made him uncomfortable to reveal that information or if Lindsay Swift was in the least unnerved by learning more facts neither ever let on.

  “Maybe.” Detective Swift nodded. She stood and took two clear, plastic bags from her desk drawer and slipped the postcards inside. “I’m going to overlook the fact you didn’t show me these straight away. They’re not direct evidence, but maybe I could use them to persuade the hotel to show me some security tapes. Can you give me dates and approximate times?”

  Rylan gave her his best guess when Celia had found the first postcard. The details about the second postcard were likely much more accurate.

  “The first postcard was aimed at, and delivered to Celia. The second was directed to primarily you.” She motioned to Rylan. “Has there been any other threatening actions against you?”

  “No. Just this postcard,” Rylan said.

  “I’m guessing the two of you went to this club?”

  “We did,” Brett said. “To answer your next question, we didn’t recognize anyone and weren’t threatened, other than that postcard.”

  Detective Swift took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It seems to me Mr. Hennessy here, is the one being threatened.” She looked between them. “I have to ask, how long have the two of you been involved? And who other than your sister and Mr. Sebastian would know?”

  “We’ve known each other for years. Celia and Rylan began skating together when you were what?” Brett looked at Rylan and raised his eyebrows. “Six, eight, something like that. It wasn’t until I got into town that our relationship moved to the next step. Everyone in Celebration on Ice knows.”

  Detective Swift sat in her chair. “I can provide protection for you.”

  “I’m only going to be here a few more days. The show is leaving Vancouver for the next stop.”

  “What are your plans?” Detective Swift asked Brett.

  Brett shrugged. “It depends on when my sister’s body will be released and I can take her home.”

  “It’ll be some time yet. Would you at least be willing to stay for a few more days while I see what I can come up with from these postcards?”

  “Yeah, sure, of course,” Brett agreed immediately.

  “Mr. Hennessy, do you feel safe with your performing company?”

  “Yes.” Rylan didn’t add he’d feel safer with Brett close by. He didn’t tell either of them how rattled he’d been by the first postcard and even more so by the second. Having Brett not only in Vancouver and in his life but sleeping in his room and finally his bed offered Rylan an incredible sense of security. Now that security was being taken away.

  “Here’s my card. Call me if you feel even slightly uncomfortable about any situation. I’ll get through to the right people and do it fast.” Swift held out a card to Rylan. “Before you leave Vancouver email me a complete itinerary and I’ll make some calls ahead to departments in the cities you’ll be in.”

  “Thank you.” Rylan took the card and slipped it in his pocket.
He stayed seated until Brett stood up and shook the detective’s hand. Rylan followed suit. She promised to be in touch when she knew something.

  As they walked back to the car, Brett put one arm around Rylan’s shoulders for a few steps. “Are you sure you’re okay going on ahead alone?”

  “I’ll admit I’d prefer if you could go with me, but that’s not possible.”

  “That’s not a yes,” Brett pointed out.

  “Other than some hate mail, no one’s bothered me. I’m sure there won’t be any problems.” Rylan sounded much more confident than he felt. A change of subject was in order. “Does the plan for tonight involve my wearing a plug again?”

  “Eh, maybe,” Brett teased as they got into the car and started back to the hotel. “When do you leave?”

  “Day after tomorrow, at five A.M. Next stop Calgary then back to the U.S. and Saint Paul. We have a free day today, then rehearsal and a troupe meeting tomorrow before back to the hotel. We leave for the airport the following morning.”

  “At five in the morning,” Brett reminded him.

  “Good times.”

  “Well, I was thinking, if you’re up for it, we could go back to Frisky Flirts and play a bit in the dungeon. It’s a good way to try new things and have that safety net of the dungeon masters to make sure boundaries are respected,” Brett suggested.

  “I trust you and I certainly don’t feel you’d go too far,” Rylan said quickly. He wanted to put a stop to that sort of thinking right now.

  Brett glanced over at him again. “I’m not saying that. But sometimes certain activities look fun when you’re watching a video or playing them out in your head and the reality is different. We’re new in this relationship, I don’t want any misunderstandings. It’s easy to not admit if a scene is too much or an activity isn’t for you if you’re trying to please someone you have feelings for.” He shrugged. “Dungeon masters and mistresses are pretty good at spotting those situations and regulating things before they go too far. Personally, I think it’s much better to test limits and boundaries with a spotter. Besides, I do enjoy clubs and their equipment.”

 

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