The words jolted through Matt like a shot of whiskey,fear chasing in their wake. The police meant he’d have to tellsomeone what happened, and why, and that was the lastthing Matt wanted to do right now. Couldn’t they just move on withtheir lives, put this behind them, let Jordan fade into the past asif he had never existed in the first place?
Vic spoke, his voice in stereo, out loud as well asinside Matt’s mind. “Kendra Jones, please.”
The blonde came to the forefront of Vic’s mind. Foran instant she was illuminated by harsh overhead lights that heldback the night beyond a storefront window, pad and paper in hand, afrown on her face as she looked from Matt to Vic, waiting for anexplanation that never came. Matt saw himself, arms around Vic’swaist, and recalled all too well the events that had put thatscared look on his face. The 7-11 shooting, that’s wherehe’d seen her before.
So why was Vic calling her now?
Giving up all pretense of privacy, Matt entered thekitchen. Vic leaned back against the sink, arms crossed, thereceiver tucked between his shoulder and his chin. Crossing hisarms in a similar manner, Matt closed the distance between them tostand right up on Vic, his bare toes curling around his lover’s,his jaw set in that way he had that demanded answers. Though he nowknew Vic’s response, he felt the urge to ask anyway. “Who are youcalling?”
Before Vic could reply, he turned back to the phone,dropping his gaze from Matt’s to concentrate on the conversation.“Officer Jones? Vic here.”
Matt stepped closer to lean against Vic’s chest,forcing his lover’s arms to open and refold themselves around hisshoulders. With his head on Vic’s chest, he listened to what thisKendra Jones had to say. The words spoke from Vic’s mind to his,and whenever Vic said something, his reply rumbled through Matt.::Mr. Braunson, yes. Vic. I was just getting ready to call you.We have him in custody.::
“Good news,” was all Vic said, but a flash ofvindictive happiness shot through him and even Matt smiled; hedidn’t have to ask who they spoke of, he knew it had to be Jordan.“About the way you found him—”
::I wrote it all up in the report,:: OfficerJones said, and Matt thought he heard a hint of a smile in hervoice. ::The evidence we gathered at his house this morning morethan anything indicates he’s a sexual pervert. He’s tried to sayyou were somehow involved in his…his positioning, if you will, butthe lack of fingerprints makes it hard to pinpoint you as aculprit. The general consensus here is he somehow managed to dothat to himself.::
Out loud, Matt whispered, “No fingerprints? Thenhow…”
A hand on his back silenced him, but his lover fedhim a delicious image of Jordan screaming in anger and pain as Vicused his mental prowess to coerce the man into tying his own anklesto the bed, putting on the cock ring himself, cinching his balls uptight in the necktie, and working that thick dildo deep into hisass. With each squeeze of the hand pump, Jordan had struggled tofree himself from Vic’s mind grip, but the larger the dildo grew,the more it tore sensitive skin, and the harder it was for Jordanto concentrate on struggling. Sicko that he was, there had been avery real part of him that enjoyed Vic’s torture, as much ashe had enjoyed inflicting such pain and misery on Matt. The onlything Vic did was secure Jordan’s arms behind his back, to keep himfrom untying himself once they were gone, and that had been donewith his hands inside two little plastic bags—Jordan had left thebox of baggies on the bedside table, within easy reach when heneeded a new one to attach to Matt’s dick. The fact that Vic hadused them to keep his prints off the rope seemed to be nothingshort of poetic justice.
On the phone, Officer Jones continued.::Eventually we’ll need to get a statement from Mr. diLorenzo. Ican come by later today, if that works for you. Might be better todo it at home, in a non-threatening location, or so my experts say.Mr. Dubrowski has already been questioned.::
Matt waited for Vic to answer. When he didn’t, Mattglanced up to find his lover scrutinizing him, a hard-to-read lookon his face. Part of him wanted Vic to say no, shelter him fromhaving to relive the past twenty-four hours, the hell that Jordanput him through. But he had to do it, he knew he had to, andthe cop was right, being in the safety of his own home, with Vicclose at hand, would make it easier to get through the ordeal. Withthe slightest nod, he indicated his assent.
Into the phone, Vic said, “How about three or so thisafternoon? We’ll be here.”
* * * *
Over a quick lunch of chicken salad sandwiches, Mattthumbed through Vic’s memories of the day before, trying to findout what he might expect from the cop when she arrived. He feltVic’s anguish and fear as if it were his own, and though his lovertried to hide it, he felt Vic’s arousal as well, when he hadthought the bondage images sent from Matt were done in jest and notfor real. “What was I supposed to think?” Vic asked, defensive.“Last time we made love, you had your hands behind your back. Ithought this was just going a step farther. I’m sorry.”
“It would be fun,” Matt admitted, chewingthoughtfully. Then his face twisted in a sour grimace, as if he’djust bitten into something nasty. “He had to go and ruin it for us,you know? That could’ve been a lot of fun, and now if we ever tryit, all I’m going to think about is him.”
Vic cocked an eyebrow suggestively. “I think I mightbe able to get him off your mind.”
Matt grinned, a flirty retort on the tip of histongue, when his mind brushed over a memory that snagged hisattention. “Wait. You told her?” At Vic’s frown, he asked,“About…”
He couldn’t seem to find the words. So she knew, thecops knew—”Why the hell bother taking my statement?” Mattcried, anger flaring
