by C J Baty
Moses and Justin continued to struggle for the gun as Marcus rushed to reach them. Moses finally got the upper hand on Justin and knocked him to the ground. Hitting Justin so hard he blacked out.
“Put the damn gun down, Moses. It’s over,” Marcus said, pushing his own revolver into Moses’s ribs from where he stood behind him.
Moses threw his elbow back and jabbed it into Marcus, hitting him sharply in the stomach. Marcus folded over with the pain. This left Moses free to turn and take aim at Marcus again.
He heard the gun go off and felt the searing pain rip through the tender flesh of his right calf. He stumbled and automatically dropped his gaze to see what the damage was. Moses reached down and pulled him up by his
shirt. The fist that came out of nowhere made contact with his jaw and left him breathless, and he fell to his knees. Excruciating pain stabbed at his calf as he made contact with the barn floor. Somewhere in the distance, as he started to lose focus, he heard Justin scream his name.
––––––––
“M ARCUS!” JUSTIN screamed as he came to just in time to watch the man he loved being shot.
“You have been a pain in my ass since you first set foot in Beaufort!” Moses yelled as he threw Marcus to the ground.
Every revelation he’d heard tonight dimmed against what was happening right now. Not only were they in danger from Moses but he could see flames working their way throughout the barn. More wiring was catching fire. Light bulbs were exploding and the light from the fire illuminated everything. With Marcus disabled, Moses turned his attention back to Justin, firing the gun at him again. He dodged out of the way of the bullet, but didn’t get far enough out of Moses’s reach. Moses grabbed him, wrenching his bad arm behind his back. The pain that gripped him was horrible, and he twisted forward to try and find some relief.
“I have to finish this, Justin,” Moses said from behind him. “It’s the only way.”
The man was mad!
One of his father’s antique cars, Justin had no idea which, exploded, and the barn shook with the vibrations. A roaring wall of flames spread across the far side of the barn causing the roof to buckle. Everything in the barn was on fire. The floor. The ceiling. The walls. The cars. The thickening smoke was beginning to suffocate him where he stood. Justin knew if they didn’t get out of the barn soon, they were all going to die in here.
A slight movement from his right filled him with instant relief—Marcus was awake and trying to reach his gun that had fallen from his hand on being hit.
Dragging his wounded leg through the straw, Marcus reached out and grabbed it, then transferred it to his right hand. Propping himself up against the Mustang he fired above Moses’s head.
Moses let go of Justin with a snarl and turned to face Marcus. Just as Moses raised the gun and aimed at Marcus again, Justin rushed at him from behind and pushed him to the ground.
It only took a moment then Moses was engulfed in flames. As he tried to stand, the roof over his head finally gave way and toppled into the building.
Justin reached Marcus just as Moses’s last screams were muffled out by the sound of the raging fire.
Justin helped Marcus to his feet. Supporting his weight, the two of them made their way out of the blazing barn. Outside, several feet away from the barn door, Justin laid Marcus down in the shade of some trees and then fell
on the ground beside him, coughing from the smoke he’d inhaled on the way out. In the far off distance, the sounds of sirens could be heard. Though the barn was secluded, the smoke from the fire could probably be seen all the way into Beaufort.
Justin stroked Marcus’s cheek tenderly where Moses had hit him, relieved that he hadn’t been hurt worse. Not now that he finally knew how he felt.
Justin kissed Marcus’s lips softly and whispered the words.
––––––––
“I LOVE you.”
Marcus’s heart lurched in his chest. He’d known Justin was starting to feel things for him, but he hadn’t expected a declaration of love. Not yet, anyway.
Justin’s eyes told Marcus just how much he cared for him, and Marcus wanted to tell him how he loved him too. It should have been a moment they would always remember; instead, his lover stood and moved swiftly toward the burning barn. Marcus screamed after him, helpless, he couldn’t move from the spot where Justin had left him.
“Justin! No! Don’t go back in there. He’s dead. You can’t. Justin!”
Minutes passed that felt like hours. When he thought Justin had been gone too long, Marcus started to crawl back to the barn, and that’s when Justin emerged, coughing convulsively. He was carrying that damned journal in his hands. That’s what he’d gone back for?
Justin stretched out on the grass beside Marcus and held the journal tightly in his hands. Marcus laid his head on Justin’s chest, listened to his heartbeat and let his body relax. He didn’t think about anything else until the sounds of the sirens through the woods to the right of them caused him to lift his head.
The first vehicle to break the forest line was Chief Peterson’s SUV. He stopped just short of where Marcus and Justin were struggling to sit up. He was followed by a fire truck and emergency vehicle. Being the first to reach them, Chief Peterson started asking questions.
“You two okay?”
“Marcus needs a medic. He’s been shot,” Justin answered as he stood. “I’ve been better, but can wait.”
“Get that ambulance over here,” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Anybody else in there?”
Marcus looked at Justin then answered the fire chief. “Moses Lee.”
“Shit!”
Another fire engine broke through the trees then, and Chief Peterson called out to the teams as they roared to a stop that there was someone still inside.
Two firemen immediately rushed over, but before they could enter the building, Justin threw up his hands as he realized their intention, and told them that it was too late. Moses Lee was dead.
“He the one who shot you?” Chief Peterson asked.
“Yes, and he’s the one who killed Joe Thompson and set the bomb in the hotel too,” Marcus added.
“He also admitted to manipulating Caroline into killing those men last summer,” Justin added. “Of course, I have no proof of that.”
Chief Marshall seemed to be lost for words as he stared between the two men. More fire trucks pulled into the clearing around the barn, followed by several police cruisers. A young officer that Marcus had never seen before got out of one of the cruisers and approached them, removing his hat. He had a head full of flaming red hair.
“Oh God, not him again,” Justin muttered beside him as the young man approached.
“Gentlemen, would someone like to tell me what’s been going on here,” the red-haired officer asked.
––––––––
AFTER MOSES Lee’s body was recovered from the barn, he was buried quietly with no service and no attendees. The papers only said he was killed in a fire that was caused by faulty wiring.
Marcus was home at the manor now after a few days in the hospital where the bullet was removed and he was stitched up. He’d be on crutches for a couple more weeks. That was if Winnie ever let him get up off the couch again.
Justin had been in and out working with the insurance agents and attorneys.
There had been a few lawsuits filed by guests at the hotel, but it looked like they were all going to settle out of court for nominal amounts. The cleanup of the hotel had started with Peter and Robert overseeing much of it. Peter was a lot happier now that Sally and her mother were back in Beaufort.
Breakfast had been served and Thanksgiving dinner had been discussed. It was hard to believe it was only a few days away. Justin sat beside him on the couch drinking a cup of coffee looking over a notebook in his lap when Peter, Robert, and Damien entered the room.
“Hey, you are definitely looking better today,” Peter said as he made himself comfortable
in one of the side chairs.
“I agree. One would never imagine that either one of you could have died a few freaking days ago,” Damien blurted out, not bothering to hold back his feelings.
“Drama queen,” Robert mumbled under his breath.
“I heard that.” Damien plopped down in the chair opposite of Peter.
Marcus felt the silent chuckle rumble through Justin. It made him smile.
Everyone seemed to be talking at once but finally Peter looked at Justin and cleared his throat loudly.
“I’ve been waiting days to ask this. What I don’t understand is why the hell you went back in the barn after you got Marcus out? From what he’s told us, Moses was already dead. What in hell did you think you were doing?” Peter questioned his brother.
Justin didn’t answer for a moment. He looked over at Marcus, leaned in to kiss his cheek, and then stood. All eyes watched him walk from the room and return shortly with one of Bradley Warfield’s journals in his hands.
It was falling apart. A thick rubber band held it together. Justin removed it as he retook his seat beside Marcus.
“Oh hell, not more words from Father.” Peter shook his head as he spoke.
Marcus hadn’t seen the book since they left the barn that day, and Justin had never mentioned it. Now, looking at Justin, he seemed very happy. Although, excited might have been an even better word.
A mischievous smile spread over Justin’s face as he opened the book and laid it out on his lap. He flipped to the very back and removed an envelope that was tucked inside the back cover of the journal. He held it up for Peter and the rest to see.
“That day in the barn, while Moses was looking at his original birth certificate, I noticed this envelope peeking out. I went back after it, because I had a feeling it contained something very important.” Justin opened the envelope as he spoke and took out a single piece of folded paper.
“You went back into a burning building after a piece of paper? Hell, Justin, at least Peter and Robert went after people,” Damien scoffed.
Justin handed the paper to Marcus.
There wasn’t much on the paper, just a list of numbers. Marcus had seen a sequence of numbers and letters like it before but he couldn’t put his finger on it at first. He studied them a little closer and then it hit him.
“CH11 00123 00C159789413,” he read out loud.
“That’s the first one. There are five more.” Justin added.
“So what the hell does it mean?” Peter asked, scooting to the edge of his chair to look at the paper turned around for him to see.
Damien jumped from his chair and crossed the room in two strides. Plucking the paper from Marcus’s hands, he read the numbers to himself, his lips moving as he read silently. He looked up at Justin when he finished, a huge grin lifting his face.
“Have you checked them out? Are they real?” he asked excitedly.
Justin nodded his headed and looked at Marcus, then to Peter.
“Seems as if your prediction was right, little brother.”
“Hun?” Peter said, clearly confused.
“They’re Swiss bank account numbers,” Damien announced excitedly.
––––––––
JUSTIN HELD Marcus in his arms as his breathing returned to normal. It was the first time they’d made love since his stitches had come out. Justin had been worried that they’d hurt his leg, but Marcus had assured him the pain in his balls was much more important than any discomfort he would have from the site of his stitches.
Justin had prepared him carefully, nearly driving Marcus to the brink on several occasions, but pulling back just in time to hold off his release. Finally he felt all of Justin buried in him so deep, it felt like his body was going to shatter into a million flashes of sparkling light. The thing that nearly broke his heart open, though, was the words.
“I love you.” Moaned and whispered and shouted and kissed against his skin, over and over again.
He would never grow tired of hearing Justin say those three little words.
“What are you thinking about?” Justin asked as his lips left a damp trail over Marcus’s shoulder.
“You.” It was the only answer and absolutely true.
“Me? What about me?” Justin pulled away just far enough to look in Marcus’s eyes.
“How much I love you,” Marcus answered.
Justin’s lips, swollen and deliciously inviting, curved into a deep and sexy smile. The edges of his eyes crinkled and pure joy radiated from them.
“I love you too,” he answered then kissed Marcus deeply. He could feel the tingling all the way to his toes.
This time Justin was the one deep in thought. His eyes sort of glazed over and he was staring out into space. Marcus waved a hand in front of his face and chuckled.
“Where did you go there?”
The solemn look on Justin’s face hurt Marcus’s heart. He never wanted to see that look on his lover’s face again.
“A lonely stretch of beach watching the waves crash and the wind blow the sand across it,” Justin answered.
Marcus pulled him down for another deep kiss. “You won’t ever be alone again. No more drifting sands or crashing waves, just the roaring of our hearts, as the tide moves us along.”
Epilogue
––––––––
Six Months Later
––––––––
This was not the time to be leaving Atlanta, but he had promised Justin he’d be home for the re-opening of the Warfield. Three days ago another dead body had been found along the I-75 highway, not far from one of the Atlanta exit ramps. White male, approximately twenty-four, reddish blond hair, blue eyes, and brutally beaten. Purple and blue marks covered his back, buttocks and legs. The burn marks, possibly from a cigar, were there but not nearly as many knife slashes as in the previous bodies. He couldn’t get the images out of his mind. It probably explained why he hadn’t been sleeping very well lately, and the ongoing argument with Justin that he shouldn’t be on the case hadn’t helped either.
Their relationship had come a long way since the summer before last. Justin was learning to ease up and not be so protective. Marcus was learning that the Justin he knew now was so much more than the one he had dreamed up in his head. Together they were working out the rough spots. If Justin would let up about Marcus giving up his job in Atlanta, things would be damned near perfect.
Other things had fallen into place as well. Peter had moved Sally and her mother into the manor after Beulah was finally released from the hospital in Knoxville. She could take her radiation and chemotherapy treatments at the cancer clinic in Beaufort. Justin had returned to the hotel as soon as his new suite was available a month ago. That was where he and Marcus would live when they were in town. Marcus still had his apartment above the office where he worked from when he was in Atlanta. They’d bought some new furniture and a larger bed for the apartment too. It wasn’t a perfect arrangement, but it was working for them at the moment.
Daisy (Marshall) Lee, Richard Brooks, and Alexander had finally come to an understanding and were working on building a family together. Alexander was back in school and nearly caught up, thanks to Daisy’s tutoring skills.
Richard’s mother was still in the sanatorium but getting better every day.
Marcus’s phone rang, and he pulled over to the side of the road so he could answer it.
“Marcus? Where are you man?” Brace’s voice sounded anxious and annoyed.
He could only think of one reason Brace would be calling him, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear what his friend had to say.
“What is it, Brace?”
“They found another one.”
“Damn. Already? That’s a lot sooner than the usual time span between victims.” Marcus didn’t want this news right now. He hadn’t been home in over three weeks. If he had to cut his time at the Warfield short, Justin was not going to be happy.
“Yes. This one was south
of Atlanta, still along the highway and . . .”
“What?” Marcus held his breath.
“This one’s alive. Just barely. They think he somehow escaped.”
The air rushed out of Marcus’s lungs, and his chest heaved with a sigh.
Thank God.
“They’ve got him under protective custody at the hospital, hoping that he’ll be able to identify the perp when he wakes up, if he wakes up that is.” Brace didn’t sound very positive about the situation.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sure thing. I knew you’d want to know. Enjoy your time away.” Brace hung up and Marcus was just putting his phone away when it rang again. He smiled at the picture that flashed on the screen. Justin.
“Hi there,” Marcus breathed into the phone. “Everything okay. I’m almost there.”
Justin chuckled, and Marcus imagined the smile spreading across the man’s kissable lips. It hit him hard like a punch to the gut, just how much he’d missed the man on the other end of the phone.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just anxious for you to get home,” Justin answered.
“I should be there in about forty-five minutes,” Marcus answered as he pulled back into traffic.
“Good. I finally heard from Damien. He’s not going to make it until Saturday.
His flight from Greece got canceled, so he’s waiting on the next one out, which isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Greece? Good lord, when was the last time the man was on an assignment on this continent?” Marcus realized that he hadn’t seen Damien since the hotel had been bombed last fall.
“He’s been gone since the media coverage of the hotel bombing died down.”
Justin grew quiet, then added, “Though, I think it has more to do with Carter Preston still missing than the hotel.”
“Damien’s a big boy, Justin. He just needs time to let the past stay in the past.”
“I’m going to hang up now so you can drive safely. See you soon. I love you,”