Crashing Waves

by C J Baty

  “Can’t. Not right now. Later. Maybe.”

  “All right, Damien. It’s all right. It can wait. Come on.” Justin wrapped an arm around Damien’s shoulders as he headed them to the elevator.

  “I’ll wait for you in the bar, Justin. Take your time.” Marcus then turned to Damien. “Glad you’re here, Damien. Get some rest.” Damien nodded as he walked away with Justin.

  Marcus ordered a drink from one of the bar staff and was sipping at it slowly when Robert returned. He immediately went to work filling a drink order for one of the waitresses. The usually laid-back and friendly Robert was curt with the waitress and then apologized for snapping at her. When she took her order to a table in the corner, Robert came to talk to Marcus. Resting his elbows on the bar in front of him. He ran his big hands through his hair and then looked up at Marcus.

  “Want a refill?”

  “Rum and coke. Easy on the rum,” Marcus said, waiting until Robert’s attention was on him. “You going to be okay, man?”

  Robert didn’t say anything while he was mixing Marcus’s drink, but when he set it down on the bar in front of him, he let go of what he had apparently been bottling up.

  “Guys like that make me sick. They are too good looking. They have too much money. Too much everything. They think they are better than everyone else and want to be treated like something special. He’s the total opposite of guys like me and you.” The rant ended as quickly as it began.

  Marcus picked up his drink and took a slow slip from the glass. He waited while Robert’s breathing calmed and he relaxed where he was standing.

  “So you think Damien is good looking?”

  Robert stared at Marcus like he had lost his mind. Then slowly a smile quirked at the corners of his lips, and he began to laugh. Softly at first, and then it built into a boisterous sound.

  “Out of all that, the only thing you heard was me saying Damien Fitzgerald was good looking?” Robert rested his elbows on the bar again and leaned in toward Marcus. “Yes, I think he’s good looking, and he has a great ass, but it’s his mouth that ruins the whole package for me. I’m not his type, and he’s definitely not mine.” Robert stood up then and walked to the end of the bar where a couple was sitting. He refilled their drinks and talked with them a minutes before returning to Marcus.

  “Sometimes it’s those differences that attract us to someone. Try not to be so hard on him. He’s not himself right now. I can’t go into details, but he’s in a rough spot.” Marcus drank the last of his drink and put the glass down. He pulled his wallet out to grab a couple of bills, but Robert stopped him.

  “It’s on the house,” he said, then added, “I’ll try, but it’s hard to be nice to someone who’s an asshole.” Robert smiled at Marcus.

  ––––––––

  AS THEY rode back to the manor, Justin filled Marcus in on what he and Damien had talked about. The only new element to the situation was the fact that the authorities had lost track of Carter Preston as soon as he was released from prison. He never reported to his parole officer, and no one had seen him. There was a statewide warrant out on him. Damien had gotten the restraining order in place before he had come to the Warfield. Justin said he’d told no one at his office where he was going. He had left a forwarding address with the detective in charge of the case. Marcus wasn’t sure that was a good idea but didn’t say anything.

  The car rolled to a stop in the circular drive in front of the house. Marcus knew Justin was worried about Damien, and he wasn’t sure what he could do to help with that situation. He thought getting them focused back on the journals was the best way to go.

  “Since Daisy mentioned going to see Celia, it got me to thinking,” Marcus said as they closed the door to the car and walked to the porch. “We’ve never asked Michaels or Winnie about seeing the journals. I mean, they saw them after we brought them into the house, but I wonder if either one of them have ever seen them before. In the house maybe or somewhere else on the grounds.”

  “I never thought to ask them. But it makes sense that if there were more of them around here one of them might have seen them. It’s worth asking them about.”

  Justin opened the entryway door, and they proceeded through the foyer and down the hall that lead to the kitchen. Winnie and Michaels were both in the kitchen at that time of day. Winnie was standing over the stove, and Marcus could smell the tantalizing scent of chicken frying. Michaels was peeling a bowl of potatoes where he sat at the table.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Justin, Mr. Drummond,” Michaels said as he made to stand.

  “Don’t bother getting up. Go ahead with your work there. Wouldn’t want to have Winnie mad at me because I distracted you.” Justin smiled as he patted the older man on the shoulder.

  “I wonder could I ask the two of you something,” Justin said as he pulled out a chair at the table and took a seat. He motioned for Marcus to do the same.

  Marcus knew Justin cared for these two kind people. It was in everything he said and the way he treated them. He didn’t treat them like hired help or staff. They were family to him.

  “You both know we’ve been going through those red leather books in the parlor. Do you know anything about them?” He accepted a glass of ice tea that Winnie poured for him.

  Marcus sat back and watched the proceedings. This was personal, not an interrogation to Justin. He made it seem like they were just having a conversation. Marcus smiled to himself, thinking about this kind caring man he loved. Michaels answered first.

  “You mean your father’s books? He started writing in them things when he was just a child.”

  “Your grandmother bought him the first one when he was, I don’t know . . .

  maybe when he was in high school. He was always scribbling down words on paper somewhere in the house,” Winnie added.

  “The red books we’ve been reading through, they look expensive, maybe even handmade. What do you think?” Marcus prompted.

  “Don’t know about handmade, but when your father was living, they arrived special delivery every six months or so, Justin,” Winnie answered as she returned to the stove to check on the frying chicken.

  “So, would you say he was obsessed with the journals he wrote in?” Marcus asked.

  Michaels and Winnie seemed confused by the question. Marcus thought maybe he should just let Justin continue.

  “There seems to be a few of the journals—books—missing. Do either of you know where he may have stored more of them?” Justin asked.

  Michaels rose from the table and took the bowl of peeled potatoes to the sink. He washed them and then handed the bowl to Winnie. She took a large knife and began to cut the potatoes into cubes, which she added to a pot of boiling water. She looked at Michaels and they seemed to have some sort of silent conversation. Michaels gave his wife a slight nod and turned to face Justin and Marcus.

  “I don’t believe there are any more in the house.” The gentle old man looked at his wife and then continued, “If I had to guess, if there are more, they’d be where he always kept them things that were important to him.”

  Justin stared at Michaels clearly confused by what he had said. “I don’t understand.”

  “The barn, Mr. Justin. He kept all sorts of things in the barn.” Winnie spoke up. “Even when he was a child, he’d hide stuff in there.”

  Marcus could see Justin considering what the older couple had told them. A sudden flash glinted in Justin’s eyes. There was no doubt he had remembered something.

  “You can’t mean that run down building at the far edge of the property?

  Father always told us it—” Justin looked at Marcus, then continued. “—he said it wasn’t safe. It would fall down on us. We were never allowed to go there.”

  Marcus knew that there was an unspoken realization in Justin’s words.

  Would Bradley Warfield go to the trouble of hiding something that he didn’t want anyone else to know about? Marcus supposed it could be possible. A rundown barn that
he had warned everyone to stay away from would be a perfect place to do it.

  “Yes, sir, that would be the place,” Michaels spoke up. “I don’t know about them books but the cars are still there.”

  “Cars?” Marcus was curious now, more than ever.

  “That’s right Mr. Drummond. Mr. Warfield has six or maybe eight old cars out there,” Michaels stated. “Maybe even a dozen.”

  “He’d spend hours out there,” Winnie added. “I always wondered what he was up to spending so much time in that scary old place.” She shuddered as she poured the potatoes into a colander to drain all the hot water.

  Marcus and Justin sat quietly for some time. Winnie finally broke the silence when she told them to go wash up. Dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes.

  ––––––––

  “I ’M GOING to gain a hundred pounds if I stay around here for very long,”

  Marcus huffed as he slumped back in the couch. He wasn’t used to eating so much food or feeling so stuffed.

  Justin laughed as he stretched out beside Marcus laying his head gently on Marcus’s lap. The action took Marcus by surprise. It wasn’t that he didn’t like where Justin was lying because truth was, he loved it. Still, it was a surprise. It seemed to Marcus that Justin had made up his mind that they were together, and he was feeling free enough with that thought that he was giving it his all. Marcus smiled as he ran his fingers through Justin’s hair, rubbing his temples occasionally. Justin’s eyes slowly closed and a small soft smile formed on his lips. He looked completely at ease and relaxed. Marcus realized Justin was speaking and he hadn’t been listening when Justin cleared his throat.

  “What?”

  Justin chuckled as he spoke. “I said you are staring at me but you aren’t listening to me.”

  “How did you know I was staring? Your eyes were closed?” Marcus asked.

  “Because I could feel it.”

  Justin opened his eyes, reached up with his hands and pulled Marcus down to within an inch of his face. He bit Marcus’s bottom lip lightly.

  “It’s okay. I like looking at you too.”

  No more words were spoken. Deep breaths and heavy sighs filled the air between them as Justin stole Marcus’s complete interest in a single kiss.

  Really, the word kiss was far too simple for the intimate experience that was happening between them. Marcus couldn’t really find a word or a whole group of words that fit this moment. His entire body became a part of Justin as they explored each other with gentle rolling tongues. They shared the breath in their bodies and the flavor of each other. It was almost more intimate than the actual act of intercourse between two people. Hands groped for skin, twisting material that got in the way, even pulling each other’s hair. Trying anything to get closer . . . inside the other man’s skin.

  Eventually, Justin’s body relaxed and he let his head fall softly back into Marcus’s lap.

  “God. What you do to me?” Justin was a little breathless but still smiling.

  “Me?” Marcus teased, laughter in his voice. “It’s all you, Mister. No one has ever kissed me the way you do.”

  Sooner rather than later, they made their way upstairs. Took care of necessary things and climbed into the big bed in Justin’s bedroom. Marcus knew they would make love, but he was in no hurry. He was enjoying this new side to Justin. The one that wanted to be with him. They could check the barn out in the morning and maybe finally put an end to what Bradley Warfield had been hiding for so long, but tonight was theirs. They would make the most of it.

  14

  ––––––––

  The first thought Justin had as he stepped from the bathroom was he is so beautiful. A cup of coffee gripped in one hand as he leaned against the wall, staring out the floor to ceiling window on the other side of the bedroom.

  Marcus was barefoot; his jeans hung low on his hips as he focused on something outside the window . . . Justin’s heart beat faster.

  Walking up behind him, Justin wrapped his arms around his lover’s bare waist. He pulled him into his chest and the scent of freshly shaved and showered man filled his senses. Marcus relaxed against him comfortably.

  Drawing in another breath of the man in his arms, Justin sighed contentedly.

  Justin was still floating on air from last night’s love making. The sex had been amazing, of course, but it was the intimate conversations interspersed before, during, and after that had made Justin’s heart sing. One conversation in particular stood out in his mind.

  Marcus had asked if he ever wanted to top. The thought alone had his cock stiffening again.

  “I take it you like the idea,” Marcus murmured, holding Justin’s cock in his hand.

  “Most of the men I’ve known assumed I was a bottom, so I haven’t had much experience being a top. But with you, I’ll admit I’ve thought about it on more than one occasion.” Justin hugged Marcus to him.

  “I’ve never been with anyone I felt I could give that kind of trust to,” Marcus answered in the dark. He rolled over so his face was next to Justin’s, then whispered, “I trust you.”

  A shiver ran through Justin’s body as he accepted Marcus’s words. He wasn’t sure when it had happened or how, but he had fallen hard for Marcus. He was in love.

  Justin kissed Marcus, pulling their bodies tighter together. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, like it was trying to break free from his body and fly away.

  “Are you all right? Your heart is beating so fast,” Marcus whispered, concern in his voice.

  “Better than I have ever been. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Marcus fell asleep shortly after still wrapped around Justin’s body. It took a little longer for Justin to doze off.

  He was still reliving the moments of their night. He’d woken to sunlight streaming through the window they now stood at not long after dawn but didn’t stir out of bed until much later. It just felt too good holding Marcus and daydreaming about what the future might hold.

  “I think I can see it,” Marcus stated, disturbing Justin’s thoughts.

  He kissed the nape of Marcus’s neck lazily as he said, “See what?”

  Marcus groaned and wiggled in his arms.

  “The roof of the barn. Stop that before we end up back in bed.” Marcus chuckled, pulling out of Justin’s grasp and pointed out the window.

  Sure enough, with all the fall foliage gone from the trees, Justin could see something at the far, westerly edge of the grounds. It was the sunlight reflecting off what was probably the old-fashioned tin roof of the barn.

  “Let’s get something quick to eat and see what we can find,” Justin offered.

  “Though it’s a shame to cover all this luscious skin up.” He kissed and nibbled on Marcus’s shoulder.

  “Come on. Clothes, breakfast, and exploring.” Marcus laughed after he left a quick kiss on Justin’s lips.

  Thirty minutes later, they were headed out the door when Justin’s cell phone rang. One look at the caller ID and Justin couldn’t help the look of disgust that formed on his face.

  “Who is it?” Marcus asked.

  “Lee.”

  That one word said it all for both of them.

  “Let it go to voice mail,” Marcus urged.

  The phone stopped ringing, then immediately started up again.

  “He’s not going to stop until I answer. Might as well get it over with.” Justin pushed the answer button and brought the phone to his ear.

  “Yes, Chief Lee. Now? Well . . . really? All right then, we’ll be there as quickly as we can.”

  Justin rang off and slipped his phone in his pocket. He looked at Marcus.

  “He thinks he knows who’s behind the incidents that have been happening here and the hotel. He wants us to meet him at the hotel.”

  Marcus shook his head, then said, “Those fates of yours really are after us.”

  A cold tremor of apprehension raced up Justin’s spine as they picked up the car keys and headed for Just
in’s car.

  ––––––––

  ROBERT MET them at the door and pointed them to the manager’s office.

  Justin could hear Lee arguing with someone as they approached. He hoped he was wrong, but the other voice sure sounded a lot like Richard Brooks.

  Opening the door, Justin saw he had been correct.

  “You have no right to talk to Daisy like that. She has every right to see her mother if she wants to,” Richard said, inching closer to Moses Lee.

  “She’s my sister. I can talk to her any way I like, and you’d best remember who you are talking to.” Moses leaned his big body into Richard’s personal space.

  “Richard! Stop! He’s just trying to stir up trouble.” Daisy grabbed Richard’s arm and tried to pull him away from her brother.

  “Enough!” Justin shouted as he tried to stop the possibly explosive situation he and Marcus had walked into.

  Lee’s attention quickly turned to Justin, a sneer spreading across his face. It was clear he didn’t like anyone interfering in what he believed was his business. He gave Marcus the same spiteful look then took control of the situation.

  “And you,” he said, pointing at Daisy. “Remember, Celia lost her mind a long time ago. Whatever she might tell you is coming from a broken, twisted person.”

  “Everyone take a seat and listen up.” Moses walked to the center of the room.

  Justin and Marcus shifted to the desk, sitting on the front edge, side by side.

  Richard and Daisy sat on the sofa. Moses pulled a notebook from his shirt pocket, flipped it open, and smiled at them. Justin didn’t miss that Moses seemed to be purposely drawing out every movement he made. He heard Marcus sigh deeply, and Justin knew if he looked, those beautiful coffee and cream eyes would be rolling up.

  “We’ve had several leads that my staff have been following up on. At the moment everything is pointing toward Joe Thompson and that kid of his, Alexander.”

  Justin jumped to his feet before he shouted, “That’s crazy!”

  “Sit down, Justin,” Marcus said, pulling on Justin’s arm. “Let the Chief explain.”

  Justin stared at Marcus. He couldn’t believe that Joe had anything to do with the incidents that had happened at the hotel. And there was no fucking way Joe or Alexander had been the one who’d attacked him in the attic. He tried to think of anything that the man had said or done that would even remotely connect him to either situation.