Read Jumping at Shadows Online
Authors: R.G. Green
“What are you looking at?” Exasperation was clear in T.J.’s voice but lost on Eric.
T.J. had come up behind him, and though Eric felt him, he didn’t turn. “It’s a camera flash,” he stated flatly.
“That late at night, in that weather? While driving on
that
road?”
“It was the Lexus, T.J.,” Eric said evenly, forcing himself not to snap. “He drove by the house last night.”
He heard T.J. let out his breath.
“Don’t do that!” Eric lashed out suddenly, swinging his head up and around to face him. “You’ve already made it very clear what you think about this, so I don’t need to hear it again!” His mouth was a tight line when he looked away.
“It’s just a reflection of the window, Eric.”
Eric ignored him, eyes glued to the screen. Then without a word he suddenly shot to his feet, pushing past T.J. without looking at him as he headed in the direction of the kitchen. He swept past the plates on the breakfast bar and instead went to his jacket. He had his cell in his hand an instant later, his fingers pushing the keys.
“Yeah, Marie. Let me talk to the captain.” That Marie Collier answered the phone was a sure indication that whoever was supposed to be on duty that morning hadn’t shown up to work, but Eric wasn’t going to complain. Officer Collier was efficient, and at the moment that was enough. T.J. followed him to the kitchen far enough to reach the bar, and he leaned both hands on its surface as he watched the conversation take place. Eric only glanced at him once before he hung up the phone with a growl. T.J. already knew the explanation.
“It’s Sunday, Eric,” he said quietly. “Even your captain gets a day off now and then.”
“He’s on call 24/7,” Eric bit out. He didn’t wait for an answer as he swept around in search of his coat. “He can be called in, and he’ll watch the tape. We just need to take it to the precinct so he can see it. We can call him in once we get there.” He was already throwing his coat over his shoulders.
“You want to take it there
now
?” T.J. asked incredulously, stepping around the bar. “Eric, have you looked outside? You can’t seriously be thinking about going down to the station now. It’s bad enough that I have to go in.”
“I need to show him the tape,” Eric repeated, pocketing his cell and retrieving the gun from the bar. He ejected the magazine for inspection before quickly sliding it back into place.
“There was an ice storm last night! The roads aren’t safe—”
“They’re safe enough for you to go to work!” Eric swung to face him. “Look, just let me borrow your keys and I can take it in after—”
“What? Eric, I’m not giving you the keys! It’s too dangerous—!”
“Fine!” Eric spat out. “I’ll call a cab!” He jerked the cell from his pocket and immediately began pushing buttons, keeping the gun held firmly in his other hand. He jerked in surprise when the phone was yanked from his ear.
“You can’t expect a cab to get out in this!” T.J. told him sharply. “Even if they are running, it’s stupid to risk them and
you
on these roads!”
“You want me to walk?” Eric shot back. “Damn it, T.J., I finally have something to give the captain to make him believe this is real, and I’m not going to let some fucking ice storm keep me from showing it to him!”
“You have light reflecting on a car window!” T.J. answered harshly. “It’s not a camera flash; it’s not someone spying on us; it’s nothing but a reflection!”
“
It’s not a reflection, T.J.! Why won’t you believe that?
” Eric stopped suddenly, going so still so fast that T.J. froze in response. When Eric turned to face him fully, his eyes were narrowed and angry.
“Eric, I don’t know what’s going through your mind, but stop and think about it for a moment.”
“It’s a camera flash,” Eric said evenly, gesturing at the computer behind them dismissively. “A camera flash that I’m going to copy to a flash drive and take to the precinct. One way or another.”
“Eric—” T.J. cut himself off this time, rubbing one hand through his hair, then dragging it over his face. Eric had already turned away, digging through one of the drawers for a spare flash drive and slamming the drawer closed when he found it. At last T.J. let out his breath.
“Fine. Take the Jeep to the precinct after you drop me off.” He let out another breath, but Eric wasn’t looking at the resignation on his face. He was moving determinedly to where the computer sat open on the coffee table. “Do you at least want some coffee first?” T.J. asked at last, turning in to the kitchen.
“Please,” Eric answered without turning. He paused in his clicking of the mouse long enough to cast a glance at his lover. “Thank you.”
He was aware of T.J.’s silence and the rigid straightness of his retreating back. The stiffness of it left him a little uneasy. They had had arguments in the past, though only minor ones that were quickly resolved and easily made up for. In fact, not a single one of them had lasted to the other side of make-up sex. He heard the clink of the coffeepot against the mug and silently vowed to make this one up even more, once Victor was behind bars. But right now he had a video to copy, and neither of them said a word when he returned to the laptop.
A coffee cup was placed beside him as he prepared the video, but T.J. didn’t linger, and Eric was acutely aware of just how alone in the room he was by the time the progress bar appeared. He let out his breath as the bar began to fill and cast a quick glance in the direction of the kitchen, to where T.J. was eating alone beside his own ignored plate on the breakfast bar. T.J. had extreme depths of patience and understanding, but this was getting crazy, and his lover’s patience was running out. It had to end soon. Hopefully the camera flash he’d recorded last night would be enough—it had to be. Another heavy breath escaped as he switched to the current view while the previous footage was being duplicated.
“Shit!” Eric surged to his feet as ice filled his veins, staring at the image on the computer screen. Then he hunched over the machine with his fingers rapping on the keys to make the new footage rewind.
“Eric?”
Eric ignored the footsteps as T.J. hurried back into the room, and he didn’t look up to see the worry in his eyes as T.J. came up behind him. He didn’t acknowledge the hand that landed on his back.
“He was here!” Eric hissed, twisting so suddenly T.J. had to step back, and he nearly knocked him over as he lunged past him to the front door. Cold air swarmed into the room as he flung the door open. The sound of ice hitting the ground drowned out his footsteps as Eric burst outside.
Frozen shards pelted him as he surged into the street, stinging as they struck the bare skin of his face and neck. Eric’s feet slipped despite the thick soles of his boots, but he didn’t fall as he scrambled into the road, head turning wildly as he searched the street. Nothing moved in the ice-hazed neighborhood, the houses fuzzy through the fall of ice, the cars parked on the street smeared with thick crusts, showing only mere hints of color underneath. Trees rattled overhead at the impact of the frozen rain, but no living thing, human or animal, could be seen or heard.
Except for T.J.
“Eric! Come back here!”
Eric’s head whipped toward the voice, and he found T.J. at the edge of the porch, ice gathering on his jeans and sweatshirt, though looking every bit ready to follow Eric into the street if necessary.
Movement caught his eye, and he turned toward it. The dark shape of a vehicle inching in reverse into the intersection was visible a block away, as were the taillights that flared a moment before it changed direction to move forward again. Eric stiffened as he recognized the model and color.
“Fuck!” he spat, his legs moving instantly, the air sharp and cutting as he rushed through it. Ice slapped his face; his lungs burned with the cold. The car had nearly vanished behind the houses, though its taillights still glowed a sharp red in the white-washed street. His teeth hurt as he hissed another oath, and he willed his legs to move faster. The fucker wasn’t getting away.
Not this time.
Then the world shifted without warning, though his legs continued to move as his feet slipped from under him. He didn’t register he was falling until his body slammed into the ice-covered street. His hip hit the ground, followed by his shoulder, but his body continued to scrabble and move, working to regain his feet and continue on. His feet slipped again with the erratic movement of his limbs, and he caught himself on his hands, scraping his palms on the frozen ground. Then his feet caught traction, and he threw himself up…
… only to be caught short by a strong grip on his wrist, and a vice-like arm that caught him around the waist.
“Eric! Stop!”
Eric twisted wildly, almost stunned to find T.J. right there, holding him back, keeping him from running.
“
Eric! Enough!
”
The sharpness of the tone stilled him, his struggles stopping instantly as he stared into the hard, unblinking gaze of his lover. He was suddenly aware that it was T.J.’s hand on his wrist and T.J.’s arm around his waist, and it was T.J.’s body he was pulled against. It was T.J. who was squinting against the falling ice, who was standing in the road, holding him back like he would an angry child.
And it was T.J. whose iron-like grip slowly loosened on his wrist, and whose hold around his waist gentled as Eric began to calm. It was T.J.’s eyes that warmed as Eric’s awareness seemed to return.
“But—”
“Come on, baby. Let’s get back to the house,” T.J. told him quietly, cutting him off even as Eric twisted to look down the street again. The car was gone, and the intersection was empty. In the numbness that followed, it took only the gentle pressure of T.J.’s hand to get Eric to turn around. T.J. didn’t let go as he led Eric back to their home, only tightening his arm to share what little warmth they had, stiffening it only once when Eric twisted to look over his shoulder.
If they had made a spectacle in the neighborhood, they saw no figures in the windows to confirm it. Chances were that their neighbors were huddled around their own TVs in hopes of learning the amount of damage this storm would produce. Still, it was a relief when they stepped back into the warmth of their own house and closed the door behind them.
They were both wet and shivering by the time they were inside, and goose bumps covered Eric’s skin as the heat of the house surrounded them. T.J. didn’t stop inside the door, though, and continued to lead Eric back to their bedroom. There he paused only to drop a quick kiss on Eric’s temple before he moved into the bathroom, returning with two large bath towels. He tossed one to Eric. Eric caught it easily but hesitated before he began slicking the melting ice from his hair.
T.J. said nothing, just stood watching him, his own towel hanging loosely in his hand, waiting until Eric had finished and his skin was dry enough to satisfy him. When he moved, it was only to toss the towel through the door of the bathroom before turning to their closet to pull out dry jeans and a sweatshirt.
“Here,” he said, tossing these to Eric, who moved quickly to catch them. Another sweatshirt of matching heather gray came next, and T.J. changed quickly before moving to the dresser in search of socks. These he also tossed to Eric, and Eric changed silently, though slowly.
Certainty returned with the dry warmth of the clothes, but Eric knew that anything he said would immediately be shut down. T.J.’s expression was enough to tell him that, but he didn’t know what else to say. He’d almost had him—again—although T.J. would never believe him. And fighting with T.J. was exhausting, not to mention useless. But with the sight of the Lexus again outside their house, he knew now more than ever that he had to do something. Forgiveness was something he would have to ask for later.
T.J. stayed until Eric was dressed. Then he patted Eric’s stomach in passing as he slipped out of the room.
“I
TRUST
you’re not going to get pulled over or cause any accidents?” T.J. asked him, teasing mildly as he undid the seatbelt in the passenger seat. It was said with an effort, but T.J. was making that effort. “Driving without a license is illegal, you know.”
“I think I’ve heard that once or twice,” Eric answered with a cautious grin. “But don’t worry. I’ll obey the speed limit and stop for red lights, pedestrians, and any cows that decide to cross the road.”
“Ducks too. And don’t run over any turtles. Now come here.” T.J. leaned over, and Eric met him halfway to exchange a kiss before T.J. got out. By the number of empty spaces in the parking lot of Perlman Engineering, it looked like T.J. was one of the few who could still manage to get in, though he would have been more than a little late had this been a normal workday. Owning a Jeep Wrangler had the downside of putting T.J. in the category of those for whom the weather was not an issue, and with the Jeep being their only unimpounded vehicle at the moment, T.J. had insisted Eric keep it for the day, even if he didn’t agree with what Eric was going to do. License or no, arguments or no, he wanted Eric to have transportation, even if that meant he would be going to the precinct and harassing his captain into coming in. Eric had shown his gratitude by promising a saner attitude by the time he picked him up that afternoon, and he had spent the driving time giving a strained but lewd and highly detailed description of what T.J. would come home to.
“See you tonight, baby,” T.J. said as they broke the kiss. Then with a sweep of cold air as the door opened, he was gone. Eric waited until he had vanished into the building before pulling away.
Eric breathed a sigh of relief as he turned the Jeep back to the road. He had made it. He had gotten T.J. safely to work without any other outbursts about stalkers and spies or any more harsh words passing between them—not because he believed their stalkers had vanished, or that Victor had given up the pursuit, but because he wanted to make sure that T.J. wouldn’t worry, and that his lover wouldn’t have the chance to argue him out of his decision. It was good that T.J. believed he was still going to the precinct to demand the captain witness the shaky proof the footage provided. The ease with which T.J. had left him at Perlman meant that he had at least been successful at keeping his lover out of what he planned to do.