CHAPTER TWO
Iker Dawson was new to the area having transferred from Harrisburg just three weeks prior. Luckily, he already knew someone on the force, Anthony, who was an old friend from the academy. Anthony introduced him to Grant, who turned out to be a really cool guy. All the guys had been welcoming, and Iker was finding the city to his liking. He was more than ready to put the politics of Harrisburg behind him and get back to normal.
He ordered dinner to be delivered and pulled a few beers from the fridge before joining Grant and Anthony on his fabulously large comfortable deck. They sat and enjoyed the night air for a few minutes before Anthony started the conversation about Iker’s neighbor, Stanley.
“That guy next door couldn’t take his eyes off us as we worked today.” He laughed. “You’re likely to end up with a stalker Iker.” He continued to laugh.
"Probably just curious, I know I would be." Grant chimed in. "From the looks of him, I doubt he has any trouble finding willing men or women to keep him company." He added.
“Definitely men and don’t tell me you’re into uptight feminine twinks.” Anthony shot back at Grant.
“I’d be into him if he gave me a second look, I’ll tell you that much.” Grant laughed at Anthony’s pained expression.
"Enough, let's change the subject. My neighbor has done nothing to warrant your abuse and sarcasm." Iker found their banter both humorous and unsettling when it came to talking about Stanley Binkman. He didn’t like talking about the man with his friends, it seemed disrespectful, yet he’d never felt like that when talking about others.
Their banter was common, and he usually joined in, but not with Stanley, it just wasn't sitting right in his mind. It was probably because he hoped to make a good impression on the little man and talking shit was not a good beginning to that end.
"He writes historical romance for fuck sake. What in the actual hell would you have in common?" Anthony was not letting it go, and neither was Grant.
"Based on outward appearances, I'd say his is doing very well for himself, so your attack on his livelihood is unwarranted. As for common ground, I think we would have plenty." Grant grabbed his crotch suggestively and winked, and that was all Iker was going to tolerate.
"Shut the fuck up!" Iker jumped to his feet, and both men stopped and stared at him. "The food has arrived." He covered and headed inside. What the hell is the matter? He wondered as he paid the guy and carried everything to the kitchen where both Anthony and Grant were waiting, silently.
"So, you like this guy?" Grant stumbled into the silence as usual while stuffing a garlic knot into his mouth and following it with a swig of beer. The pure innocence of the man was the only thing that saved him repeatedly.
Iker cocked an eyebrow at his friend and stared for a moment before responding. "I don't know him. I just don't want preconceived ideas in my head when I do." That was enough for Grant to capitulated immediately and continue with his dinner. Anthony, on the other hand, was still taking issue.
“He was staring at us, you in particular, he could be a problem.” Anthony was making no sense.
“He’s a hundred pounds at best and shorter than your Aunt May, he’s not a problem. Now let it go, you’re obsessing. He wasn’t watching us any closer than we were watching him. He’s probably with his friends right now wondering what kind of freaks have moved in next door to him.” That had Grant laughing loudly, while Anthony grunted and finally let it go.
…
Stanley hung out with Walker at the Imperial until after nine in hopes of not seeing the handsome detective when he returned home. He just wanted to slip into his house unnoticed. The tension he was feeling seemed out of place, but it was real none the less. After seeing Iker’s picture, the tension increased significantly which lead Stanley to believe that this man was trouble.
He drove up beside his back door rather than into his unattached garage which was a longer walk and threatened exposure. Stanley quickly exited his car and hurried inside his house locking the door securely behind him. He didn’t like leaving his car outside, but the weather was supposed to be mild overnight, so he took the risk.
As he closed his door, he noticed a light on in the upstairs bedroom next door. He was familiar with the layout of the house since the last occupant had been an elderly man who he often looked in on. It was the largest bedroom, so Iker Dawson was probably using it as his own.
Thoughts of Iker in his bedroom flooded Stanley's mind, so he went directly to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink and then another. He wasn't much of a drinker, so the effect was quick, and drowsiness took over. He hoped tomorrow he would wake with a clear mind. He was such a sucker for good looks and muscle.
His phone pinged and when he checked it Walker had sent him several more pictures of Detective Dawson. He was at a picnic, on the sidewalk outside someone’s home with his arm around an older female and he was on the beach in tight swimwear. Walker was pure evil.
Stanley could not resist scrolling through every shot, according to Walker the man didn’t have any social media accounts, but Easton found several pictures on the accounts of his friends and family. Stanley was beginning to feel like a straight up stalker, so he quickly deleted the pictures before he was tempted to scroll through them again and again.
Stanley went to his room and after changing into his nightclothes stretched out on his antique black mahogany four-poster bed. He realized that their bedrooms were situated in the same areas of the second floor, but thankfully his window looked out onto the backyard with no side window facing his neighbor. The temptation would have been too great not to have tried to get a look at that hard body in a state of undress. Damn, he suddenly wished he hadn't deleted the pictures Walker had sent him.
He started to text Walker to have him resend them when he stopped and tossed his phone onto his French provincial nightstand. He had to stop obsessing, he thought, when his phone pinged again. He reached over and retrieved it just to see that Walker had sent the photos again with the note, ‘I knew you'd delete them.' He is such a little fucker and he knew him so well. Stanley chuckled and deleted the photos a second time without looking at them and shot Walker a quick text.
“Stop being a jerk.”
“I’m sending them again.”
Damn, and there they were showing Detective Dawson in all his masculine glory. Stanley contemplated keeping them in a secret file but then abruptly deleted them. Secret file, he chastised himself, what a loser you’re becoming. Besides, he didn’t need pictures when the guy was living right next door.
Stanley went to bed early, it was not yet ten o’clock, but he wanted to relax and contemplate the outline of his next story. It was going to take place in the late eighteen hundreds in Charleston, South Carolina. He hadn’t started the actual writing yet, just research and outline so far. Losing himself in his work helped to push the lustful thoughts regarding his neighbor to the back of his mind.
He fell asleep quickly but was awakened abruptly at one thirty-three by a sound downstairs. He got up and pulled on his robe and slippers while listening to someone attempting to open a window in his kitchen or perhaps it was the sliding glass door. It was located at the back of the house and directly below his bedroom.
The house was completely dark except for a street light that gave a soft glow to the living room but left the kitchen dark. As a vampire Stanley had no difficulty seeing clearly in the darkness and as soon as he crept into the kitchen, he saw the man trying to jimmy open his sliding glass door.
He approached slowly and silently and stood in front of the door, so the first thing the intruder would see was him. He didn't fear humans, he was small but ten times stronger than any human. The door slid open, and the guy, medium height and weight with a knit cap and dark jacket took one step inside when he suddenly saw Stanley and Stanley went full vamp on the guy.
His eyes flashed red and he dropped his fangs with a fierce growl as he grabbed him by the front of his jacket. The guy beg
an to fight, but it was useless. The fear in his eyes was gratifying as Stanley lifted him off the floor and threw him back out the door. He threw him with enough force to clear the porch rail and the guy landed on his side in the middle of the back yard.
Stanley watched as he scrambled to his feet and ran away. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Stanley checked his door and saw that he'd somehow managed to press and damage the latch to get in. He would have to see about a better lock, and a new door. He stepped back inside and secured the door with the broom handle laid in the track. He doubted that guy would ever come back, he was pretty freaked and being tossed like a rag doll by someone the size of Stanley must have also boggled his brain.
So much for having a cop next door, certainly doesn’t seem to be having an effect on the crime rate. Although this was the first time Stanley had suffered a break-in and he’d lived in the house for two years now. Too bad the guy hadn’t gone next door instead, that would have been interesting. Stanley snickered as he headed back upstairs to bed.
…
Iker heard his phone ringing, and it pulled him right out of one of the best dreams he'd had in a long time. He was on the beach with Stanley, and they were rubbing suntan oil on each other and damn that man felt real. He groaned loudly and reached for his cell.
“Hello.”
“There’s a unit at your neighbor’s house. A call came in from a woman reporting that she saw someone trying to break into the house across from her, Stanley’s place.” Grant told him. He was on the overnight and heard the call and assumed Iker would want to be brought up to date considering it was next door. He gave him all the information he had as Iker grabbed his t-shirt and jeans, quickly pulled on his boots and ran downstairs.
“Thanks, I’ll check it out.” He said and closed the call. The thought that Stanley had suffered a home invasion or burglary was pushing him to move faster. He noticed the two officers just inside the front door talking with Stanley. He hadn’t met the man yet, but he felt a connection that he could not explain, and he wanted to assist in any way that he could.
He came up behind the officers and showed them his badge and after he explained his presence, they then told him of their current findings. He watched as Stanley stepped back and watched looking unsure of him and the officers. It struck him that he didn’t look like someone who’d suffered a break in.
He didn’t appear upset just annoyed and he wasn’t asking questions or demanding answers. He was calm and appeared unconcerned that someone had tried to gain entry to his home. The officers finished and left their cards in case Stanley remembered anything more.
Once they were gone Iker stepped forward and stuck out his hand with a warm smile. He wanted to know this guy, he seemed to be hiding something, but Iker doubted it was anything serious. Perhaps he was the type of person who didn’t like to get upset around others and would quietly freak out once everyone had left.
"Detective Iker Dawson, I just moved in next door." He said as an introduction. He noticed it took Stanley a couple of beats before he took his hand and held it in a loose grip, a very light touch.
Iker and held Stanley's hand firmly in his as he watched a flash of what appeared to be recognition flash in Stanley's eyes and then just as quickly disappear. He didn't know Stanley, never met him before but he too felt as if they'd already met. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked before finally releasing Stanley's hand.
“Stanley Binkman, but you probably already know that and no I don’t think we’ve ever met, why?” Stanley was speaking very carefully, and his eyes were watching him with an intensity that he could feel. The room buzzed with sudden tension that seemed out of place for the situation.
“You seem familiar, but I guess not.” He took in and tried to analyze the striking attraction he felt for the small man who stood before him. Was it the silky blond hair that beckoned him to touch or the depth and secrecy within those soft blue eyes? He was a beauty for sure, even more so up close and in his current disheveled condition. “I wanted to check on you and see if I could be of help since I was right next door.” He explained although he was sure Stanley already understood why he was there.
"Thank you, I appreciate your concern," Stanley said and turned away from him. The officers had explained the situation to him, and it sounded cut and dry. The intruder was scared away when he realized the homeowner was up. But there was a problem with that because there had been several break-ins in the surrounding area and at least twice the homeowner was home. Those homeowners being home had not deterred this guy from attacking them, tying them up, and burglarizing their home.
The reports had indicated the attacker was a big strong guy well able to defend himself in a fight so how was it that Stanley, little Stanley Binkman was capable of scaring him away? "Do you have any firearms, Stanley?"
Stanley stopped and turned around abruptly as if startled that he was being followed. "No sir, I don't." He answered carefully once again. Once they entered the kitchen, Iker stepped around Stanley and headed for the sliding glass door. He checked it over and saw where the latch had been forced from the outside.
“Call me Iker, we’re neighbors after all.” He was rewarded with a warm smile which took him by surprise. Stanley’s face took on a loveliness that had Iker taking a few steps towards him but then stopped and glanced back at the door. It had been opened, the intruder had gained entry but was scared away.
“Would you like something to drink?” Stanley offered. “It’s late for coffee but perhaps juice or water?” Stanley was looking at him again, closely like he was looking for something specific. It was a strange feeling but not uncomfortable.
"Water, thank you." Iker didn't need a drink, but it would afford him the excuse to stay longer, and he wanted to stay longer. He watched as Stanley crossed to the refrigerator and extracted a bottle of water. It was high end not a cheap grocery store brand. Stanley had specific tastes as evident by the design and décor of his home.
He liked vintage and antiques that were valuable and in the best of condition. Either Grant was correct in his assumption that Stanley was doing well for himself with his writing or Stanley had a side gig. He took a seat at the lovely carved oak kitchen table with its matching chairs and opened his water taking a long swig while waiting for Stanley to join him.
“I know you’ve explained this to the officers, but would you walk me through what happened here tonight? The guy has committed several break-ins in this area over the past couple of months, two with dire consequences.” Iker watched as Stanley’s eyes widened.
“Dire, what happened?” He asked.
"People were home and they were roughed up pretty bad by this guy." Iker took another drink and kept his eyes on Stanley noting his reaction. "One of the victims was a twenty-five-year-old bodybuilder." Iker threw that fact out there and let it rest for a moment before adding. "Why was he afraid of you?"
“Maybe it wasn’t the same guy.” Stanley offered offhandedly the tension from before was slipping away.
“The descriptions match.”
“All I know is he looked at me and turned and ran. Perhaps it was the robe.” Stanley looked down at the thick burgundy velvet robe he was wearing and then back up at Iker.
Iker smiled and winked seductively. “The robe is beautiful.”
Stanley did not know what to say, Iker Dawson, the handsome detective from next door was in his kitchen drinking water and apparently flirting but also accusing him of something. The questions were casual yet pointed. Stanley hadn't lied, he just hadn't told the entire truth. He knew exactly why the man ran, and it had nothing to do with the robe.
He would be demanding that this game playing manipulator leave his house if it weren’t for the fact that Detective Iker Dawson was his beloved. The Fate chosen love of his life and his eternity. The wink and the compliment went straight to his heart even though he knew it was a popular ploy when trying to get answers from an uncooperative witness. Buddy up, pretend interest and get them to
spill.
The interest and draw that he didn't understand before was clear now, and even though the guy was pushing every anger button he owned, Stanley wanted him to stay longer. This human was his beloved and somehow Fate figured they'd make a good match. Why a human trained in the art of distrust and hidden agendas, why was life always so hard for him?
The moment the detective entered his home the scents and sights bombarded Stanley and the need to get close was overwhelming him. He kept a firm lid on his thoughts and concentrated on control. The handshake had been absolutely torturous and Detective Dawson or rather Iker seemed to be aware of that fact. He held on longer than necessary and it was simply to put Stanley off balance.
Enough duplicity he needed some clarity with his beloved. If he was suspecting him of doing something, then say so. “What are you accusing me of?” Stanley asked and waited for a reply. The fact that by the look on Iker’s face he surprised him was a bonus.
"I believe you had a weapon and for whatever reason, you are denying it. With that said I then assume that it is an illegal weapon." Iker was very forthright, and Stanley appreciated him not trying to continue with the word games.
"I have no weapons, never shot a gun and never owned one." Stanley could see Iker processing his words and watching every twitch. "You're welcome to search the house if you wish."
"Why didn't you call in the report? Your neighbor called it in when she saw someone trying to get in your back door. You never called. You had time to call after they ran away." Damn, that was a point he had hoped wouldn't have come up. He thought perhaps the timeline would go in his favor but apparently not.
“I was upset, I was getting around to it when the officers showed up at my door.” He wished he could just wipe Iker’s mind and plant a few convenient explanations, but it was impossible for a vampire to meddle in the thoughts of their beloved.
He’d manipulated the thoughts and understandings of the two officers, but Iker was going to be a problem. There really was nothing to investigate as far as Stanley was concerned and perhaps Iker would come to that conclusion in time.
The Vampire Next Door Page 2
