[Men in Blue 01.0] Night Is Darkest

by Jayne Rylon

  “Fuck, yes! Ty!” Mason roared as he joined their simultaneous release. More scalding fluid coated his chest before sliding onto his abdomen. The rush of orgasm stole his mind with unrelenting waves of ecstasy. Just when they’d begun to fade, a feminine cry reached through senses saturated with desire.

  Tyler groaned, “You’re killing me.” His cock heaved one final burst of sperm then stilled in Mason’s shaking hold. Every muscle in his body turned to mush. He barely managed to throw his weight to the side to avoid crushing Tyler’s bruised ribs when he fell, drained, to his back on the bed between Lacey and Tyler.

  Both of his lovers panted as they matched his struggle for breath in the wake of mind-numbing release. As though one person, Tyler and Lacey turned to him in unison. Their tongues lapped at his gooey chest, stealing a taste of their mingled pleasure before meeting in the middle for a soul-stealing kiss. As they explored each other’s mouths, their hands—one tiny and delicate, the other broad and strong—massaged the remaining essence of their loving into him until his skin, and the light fur coating it, gleamed.

  Mason lay entranced as he observed the sealing of their lips as though it were a sacred oath. One thing was certain in his blown mind. Nothing could ever come between them again.

  A bond this powerful could never be broken.

  Lacey monitored the even breathing of her men from her resting place on the left side of Mason’s chest. Her head lay over his heart, which beat slow and steady. Curled on the other side of their lover, Tyler mirrored her position. Mason had flung a burly arm around each of their waists, tying the unit together.

  After sleeping all day, she couldn’t stand to close her eyes again. Instead, she preferred observing the way Mason’s fingers tightened to ensure they stayed nearby and the peaceful smile gracing Tyler’s handsome face. She’d easily been staring at the pair of them for an hour after the brief nap she’d stolen in the wake of her orgasm.

  It would be easy to forget the horrific events of the past week when faced with paradise but fate obviously hadn’t gotten the memo regarding their vacation from reality. The muted buzz of a vibrating cell phone caused Tyler to bolt upright. His left hand flew to the purple discoloration on his ribs as he fished around on the floor for Mason’s discarded jeans with his right hand.

  “Yo? Nah, this is Lambert. What’s up?”

  Mason dislodged her when he slid his legs off the far edge of the mattress. The guys sat side by side with the phone between them, close enough that their spread thighs touched, sharing whatever news the caller had. While their backs were turned, Lacey gave her head an exploratory shake.

  No dizziness.

  With as much stealth as she could manage, she crawled behind the pair in an attempt to eavesdrop but all she caught was Ty’s sharp intake accompanied by Mason’s pungent curse before they flipped the phone closed to end the call. Tyler’s longer hair stuck up in stylish disarray only a man could manage without effort. She reached her hands out to massage the base of each man’s neck.

  “What’s wrong?” Neither one of them answered her. “Please, don’t make me wait. Tell me what they found.”

  Tyler twisted to face her. He pulled her into his lap then nuzzled the crown of her head with his chin. She recognized his futile attempt to disguise his communication with Mason when his jaw bobbed against her hair.

  “You won’t hide this from me!” She shoved out of his hold but only ended up on Mason’s lap instead. “Who the hell was that?”

  “Little one, are you sure you’re up to hearing about this right now?”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “When we left the station earlier today, the lab hadn’t been able to find any anomalies. The stuff you drank was really just coffee. But, we had them run the tests again. They didn’t find it the first time because we were convinced you drank whatever the fuck that bastard gave you.”

  “Find what?” The suspense knotted her guts. “Which bastard?”

  “Someone spread Harmytal on the lid of your cup. Every time you took a sip, you breathed it in until it knocked you out.”

  “I really didn’t fall asleep at the wheel?” A simultaneous rush of relief and dread blossomed in her chest.

  “Shit no, sweetheart. I could have told you that. You were seriously fucked up before we crashed. I should have realized your violent reactions were abnormal before we even pulled out of the lot.” Tyler tucked her hair behind her ear. “You don’t remember it at all, do you?”

  “Not very much.”

  Mason tightened his arms around her waist as she shivered in his hold.

  “Thank God,” Tyler whispered under his breath. “It’s better that you can’t, trust me.”

  “We should have filled you in, doll.” Strong hands chased the goose bumps from her arms as Mason reassured her. “First you were sleeping, then…well, you know. You didn’t do anything wrong. Harmytal is hot on the street right now. People are using it as the new date rape drug. Other than memory loss and a killer headache, there are no lingering side effects. It clears out of the blood stream fast, making it hard to prove someone’s been a victim.”

  The blood drained from her face. “Who would do that to me? Why?”

  Tyler enfolded her hand in his then brought it to his lips before Mason dropped the bomb.

  “They’re bringing Jerome in for questioning now. Do you think you’re up for a trip downtown? Ty and I have some things we want to ask about in person.” The rage underlying his calm assertion terrified her. “Neither one of us wants to miss out on the fun but we’re not leaving you alone again.”

  “Wait a minute!” Their intent finally penetrated her shock. “Jerome wouldn’t hurt a fly. There’s no way he’s involved in this.”

  “We’ll see about that, little one.” Ty tried to lighten the mood. “I promise I won’t let Mason pound him into the dirt until we know for sure.”

  She didn’t laugh or even crack a smile. Suddenly, she couldn’t shake the sick dread in her gut. “Is all of this related to Rob’s murder? What the hell is going on here?”

  Her mind raced to think of any tiny detail she could have missed, anything that would link the bouts of insanity invading her life, but nothing clicked into place.

  While she thought, Mason lifted her. He carried her into the bathroom where he filled the tub with steaming water and a dash of bubbles. “Take a quick bath then we’ll get some answers, doll.”

  “A shower would be faster,” she mumbled, already knowing what he would say to that.

  “It’s not safe, yet. Harmytal can affect your equilibrium for up to twenty-four hours.”

  “We could take one together.”

  The spark of arousal in his blue eyes reminded her of the core of a flame.

  “That would take ten times as long.” He deposited her in the soothing liquid. “I’ll get cleaned up while you’re soaking, then Ty can have his turn. Be ready to get out in fifteen minutes.”

  As if she’d wait for their assistance.

  In the end, she did settle in for the entire show as the guys soaped up then rinsed off in the glass-doored shower. The heat of the bath infused her aching muscles with welcome relief. Plus, the scenery rocked her world, distracting her from stressing out over things outside of her control.

  She had a feeling she’d know more than she cared to soon enough.

  14

  Tyler slipped into the dim, closet-sized room where Lacey stood ramrod-straight behind the one-way window overlooking the interrogation room. Without a care for the other officers, the DA—or even the chief, who flanked her in a protective semi-circle—he cut through the crowd of guys. Though Mason had kissed her on the lips in front of their co-workers before they’d had one final private conference in the hall, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her shoulders snug against his chest.

  Whatever happened, they would watch it together. Since he had no intentions of skirting his relationship with Lacey—or Mason—ever again, he shrugged
off the cleared throats, elbow nudges and stares of the few gawkers. Most of the men in the room he trusted with his life, both public and personal. The rest could go to hell.

  His hands fanned out over the fuzzy, cornflower blue sweater Lacey had thrown on over the sexy jeans molding to the rise of her hips. From this angle, he caught a glimpse of the plump swell of her breasts framed in the V-neck.

  Son of a bitch! He forced himself to concentrate on the action unfolding under the horrid green glow of the fluorescents next door. Mason stalked across the cracked linoleum to the mustard colored bucket chair that barely held all of Jerome’s massive build. The giant dwarfing the tiny plastic seat appeared at ease despite having been detained for close to two hours already. The detective on the case hadn’t been able to make any progress. He’d gladly turned the suspect over to Ty and Mason for a change of pace.

  “If you planted that shit on Lacey’s coffee, I’m going to fuck you up.” Mason got right in Jerome’s face as he snarled the threat.

  Behind them the chief cursed. “Is he going to be able to keep his act together?”

  “Depends on if he believes the dude or not.” Tyler shrugged. If Jerome had caused the wreck, Mason was likely to kick his ass but someone would probably pull him off before he did permanent damage or got himself fired.

  Lacey shuddered in his hold. “Jerome wouldn’t hurt me, Tyler. I keep telling you guys that.”

  “We’ll see, little one.” He refused to entrust her safety to blind faith. “I hope you’re right.”

  If not, maybe Jerome would get his ass kicked twice. Once for causing the crash and once for betraying her friendship.

  Jerome laughed at Mason’s bluster. “You expect to come in here and scare me into confessing with that bullshit? What is this, some bad TV show from the 80’s?”

  “That man must have a death wish,” the rookie, Razor, mumbled as he shook his head.

  Mason slapped his palms on the stained Formica table. “You only have something to worry about if you’re the bastard who drugged Lacey. Only if you’re the fucker who caused her to crash into that tree.”

  Jerome grimaced, his chocolate eyes matching Mason’s heat for a moment. “I don’t know jack about any drugs but I’d never do something to put that girl in jeopardy. In fact, I’d gladly give you a hand in taking out whoever did.”

  “Not a smart thing to admit in a police station, shithead. Especially not when you’ve got two priors for assault on your record.”

  Lacey gasped at the news her friend wasn’t the gentle giant she’d thought.

  He lifted one mammoth shoulder. “I ain’t no saint but you’ve got the wrong guy this time.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you talk to the detective?” Mason studied the other man while skepticism rang in his voice but his posture had relaxed a bit.

  “I was waiting for you, blondie. Or that dark-haired hunk who hangs with you.”

  Razor snorted but settled at a glare from the chief.

  “I’m here now.”

  “I’ll spill. But first, I want to know one thing.” Jerome crossed his thick arms over his chest.

  “What’s that?” Mason continued to stare him down.

  “Is she alright? Tiny L?” His forehead creased. “They wouldn’t tell me anything ’cept that she’d wrecked.”

  Mason reached behind him to unknot the tension in his neck. He shook his head as though to clear the red from his vision then plopped into the chair next to Jerome. Tyler felt some of the tension leach from his bones. Lacey heaved a sigh of relief beneath his forearms.

  “Yeah, she’ll be okay. They got her with Harmytal. She blacked out and drove off the road but my ‘hunky’ sidekick saved the day. They’re banged up. A concussion and a hell of a lot of bruises sprinkled between them but they’ll make it.”

  The DA shuffled as Mason confided in the man he no longer suspected. He picked up his briefcase, flung his overcoat across his arm then made to leave. “Call me when you’ve got someone legitimate, Chief.”

  “So here’s what went down.” Jerome drew their attention back to the interrogation room with his deep bass. “I saw the Lacemeister working desk. I wasn’t really surprised to see her back so soon ’cause she’s a fighter. I passed by a few times even though I’m not assigned to that wing this week so I could check on her and maybe cheer her up a few degrees. After midnight, she started fading so I put in an order for that ridiculous imitation latte she digs from the crapeteria. When I came back through I went to grab it from the spot David, the hot cashier, usually stashes my shit. Only it wasn’t there. I figured that was good enough excuse as any to strike up some convo with the stud. He told me some broad already grabbed the drink. I was pissed. You know, I thought she stole Tiny L’s juice. But when he started to make up a fresh one, the cup was sitting on the machine. We had a good laugh over it, like he’d lost his fucking marbles. It happens when you work such suckass hours. Then I snagged the cup and hauled ass upstairs. That’s when I ran into you three in the middle of your little domestic drama.”

  Mason cut him off before he exposed the nitty-gritty of their possessive snit in colorful detail they’d never live down. “How did David describe ‘the broad’?”

  Jerome scratched his chin as he thought back.

  “I remember he said she was cute ’cause it bummed me that he might not be batting for my team after all. You never can tell with some guys.” He winked at Mason, drawing another chuckle from Razor. “After that I didn’t listen too close. Maybe he said she was brunette? Sorry, man, you’d have to ask him.”

  “I’ll do that, Jerome.” Mason stuck out his hand. “Thanks for cooperating. And for being a good friend to Lacey. Let me call you cab home.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jerome leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table hard enough to make it creak. “One more thing.”

  Mason raised an eyebrow.

  “You and your hunky sidekick hurt her and you’ll have to answer to me.”

  Mason threw back his head and laughed. Jerome didn’t.

  “I promise, hurting her is the last thing on my mind.”

  Lacey squirmed from Tyler’s hold as the two men made their way out the interrogation room door. She flung herself at the mountain of a man while the rest of the men studied their shoes. “I knew it wasn’t you.”

  “You got that right, Lacemeister.” His diner-plate sized hand patted her back. “Who else is going to dish with me about the fine young specialists roaming the halls of St. Ann’s? Though, I have a feeling you’ll be less interested in the selection of Grade A beef than you once were.”

  Mason growled, “Don’t push your luck, Jerome.”

  They parted ways at a fork in the labyrinthine corridors when Tyler guided them farther into the bowels of the station rather than toward the front desk. “I want to check in with the tech guys. The decoding of your emails should get bumped to high priority now. Make sure to smile and bat your lashes a lot, these geeks will do anything for a pretty lady.”

  “Like you wouldn’t?” Lacey wrinkled her nose. She’d seen some crazy and inventive ploys by women hoping to get Ty’s attention over the years.

  Mason laughed. “She’s got you there.”

  The closer they got to the labs, the more drastically the atmosphere changed. By the time they’d made a handful of turns, shoulder-length hair replaced buzz cuts as the style of choice while an array of ripped or faded T-shirts advertised a plethora of heavy metal bands. She ducked her head to conceal a tiny smirk when Mason greeted a techie with a clap on the back that resulted in a dislodged pocket protector.

  The way the male dominant culture of the station dealt with Rob’s death struck her as polar opposite from the nurses’ reaction to her return. Not one person mentioned the tragedy but several gave brusque nods in the partners’ direction that communicated respect all the same. She supposed they had to compartmentalize their work from the personal in order to survive. Not that different from working on a family member at the h
ospital, she supposed. Hopefully, she’d never have to find out for sure.

  With light pressure from the fingers resting on her elbow, Mason nudged her into a bustling hive of activity. Cubicles lined the outside walls of the cramped room while long conference style workstations allowed for collaborative pursuits. Tyler scanned the chaos for a second then took off for the far corner.

  A monitor angled away from the action for the maximum privacy afforded by the communal space. As they neared, she realized a familiar face huddled behind it. The neat man with classic Roman features felt so out of place in the mishmash of wires, data ports and social ineptitude that she had forgotten he belonged to the cyber crimes division. Lacey had always found her brother’s friend attractive. He’d even taken her out to dinner a few times and to the movies once but the chemistry between them hadn’t transcended the platonic phase.

  “What’s taking so damn long, JRad?” Mason never beat around the bush.

  Lost in his work, Jeremy Radisson blinked several times but didn’t even look up from the screen. Tyler whapped the mesh back of the ergonomic chair cradling the young computer whiz, who disengaged the miniscule, state-of-the-art earphones none of them had realized he wore.

  “Hey guys. Lacey.” He flashed her a sad smile. “Sorry, it gets kind of crazy in here. If I don’t tune it out I’d never get anything accomplished.”

  “Have you been able to descramble the email yet?” Tyler usually had more patience than Mason but today it looked like they were both fresh out.

  Jeremy frowned. “I made some significant progress here in the last ten minutes or so. I wanted to clean up the artifacts a tad before I called you guys in.”

  “Yeah, well, we need to put a rush on the job.” Mason bordered on rude.

  She covered his fist with hers, prying his fingers open until she could slip her hand into his palm.

  Jeremy glanced up from his station for a closer look at the three of them. “Shit, Lacey, what happened to your face? What aren’t you guys telling me?”