Jumping at Shadows (25 page)

Eric stiffened suddenly, the gun back and aimed point-blank at T.J.’s chest. T.J.’s explanations were good, they were reasonable and they could be legitimate, but still….

“What about Victor Kroger?”

T.J. froze but didn’t back off. Then his smile turned brilliant. “You got him,” he said succinctly. “Your team found the connection between the tickets to Barbados and the judge.” Then Eric watched the smile become the warm, affectionate smile he had seen so often, reflecting the love and devotion that shone so clearly in the deep brown eyes. “You were right, baby. You got him.”

The resolve Eric had held so closely around him cracked at the words, and he lowered the gun slowly to point at the floor. Eric stared into T.J.’s eyes, wanting the words to be the truth, needing to see the certainty and reassurance in that calm and steady gaze. And he found it there.

“The pictures…?”

“Were apparently just a warning to get you to back off,” T.J. told him quietly. “They found evidence of it when they tracked the connection between Victor and the judge. It seems not even Victor Kroger would risk the repercussions of killing a cop.”

The smile never vanished as T.J. moved to close the final distance, reaching for Eric’s wrist, then gripping it lightly before he pulled Eric to him. Numbness and shock rendered Eric unresisting as T.J.’s arms circled around him. His mind and body were nearly paralyzed with horrified disbelief at what T.J. had told him… what he had thought… what he had almost done….

“It’s over, baby. You got him,” T.J. whispered into his hair. Then he leaned back enough to slip his fingers under Eric’s chin, raising Eric’s head enough to meet his eyes. When T.J. leaned forward to capture his mouth in a deep, gentle kiss, Eric felt himself responding with a surreal detachment, not feeling the heat of the kiss physically or emotionally despite the long, sensual moments before T.J. pulled back. Eric stared in wonder as he saw the same love in T.J.’s eyes that he had watched take root and bloom during their first year together, and the love he had seen every day of his life for the last seven years. He felt the sting in his own eyes as fingers stroked gently across his cheek, and the soft tenderness in T.J.’s voice when he spoke again broke the last of Eric’s resistance.

“And how could you think for one second that this isn’t real?”

That was when Eric crumbled, when the toll of the stress and tension and the wild, rambling thoughts that had plagued him since the day of the trial crashed around him. The rattle of metal clattered on the floor as the gun slipped from his fingers, and he threw himself against T.J., feeling his lover’s arms catch and hold him as he tried to bury himself in T.J.’s body, too terrified to let even a breath of space separate them. He pressed his face against T.J.’s neck, feeling the burn of tears scald his cheeks as he mouthed the words “I’m so sorry” over and over.

The blare of sirens grew louder as they drew closer and ended with a screech of tires, followed by shouts and orders.

Eric was still clinging to T.J. when the uniformed cops burst through the door.

Epilogue

T
HREE
counts of reckless driving.

One count of driving without a license.

One count of fifth-degree assault, brought on by the young man in the Mazda 6 Eric had driven off the road. The second count was dismissed, thanks in large part to an officer named Kilane who had done so well at calming the old man that charges were never pressed. A third one never materialized, as the man with the lost dog had never pressed charges either.

The weapons charge for intentionally pointing a gun might as well have never existed, as T.J. hadn’t even considered pressing charges.

Misdemeanors, all punishable, but not severely, not with Eric’s professional career and solid record, not with the extenuating circumstances of Victor Kroger’s abominable trial. Eric’s court-appointed lawyer had been adamant on that stance.

The assault with a deadly weapon, however, was not as easily dismissed, and the words “threatened without the intent to terrorize” were used by the court prosecutor in reference to the couple locked in the closet. Although a lesser charge than if a claim of “with intent” had been pressed, the incident nevertheless threatened to add years to his sentence. Follow that with the theft of SUV and the fleeing from police personnel, and the prosecutor had legitimate reasons to push for jail.

But Eric had gotten lucky. His licenses were gone for the foreseeable future, both his driver’s license and his license to carry a firearm. His suspension had turned into termination, though not so much a firing as a release from duty. Court-ordered reporting was mandatory, as was therapy twice a week, and the fines he had been ordered to pay were hefty.

But he had avoided jail time, largely due to the testimony of the captain and his fellow officers, detectives, and civilians at the precinct, and at least in part due to the sympathy of the judge, who had witnessed the fall of a peer into the clutches of corruption. Eric was credited with not giving up on nailing Victor Kroger and was given leeway for the stress that the activity had created.

Victor Kroger and Judge Kenczik were both wasting away behind bars, but Eric had been allowed to walk free.

E
RIC
stomped the snow from his feet before he opened the kitchen door, already smelling the spicy scent of chili simmering in the kitchen. Winter was almost over according to the calendar, but the snow on the ground seemed intent on lingering even as the days crept from March to April. It was slushy now, as the temperatures had warmed, but in the fading light of the day the neighborhood still looked to be suspended in a winter wonderland. Eric took a last, deep breath of cool winter air before he stepped inside.

“Hey, baby. Everything all right with Mr. Eckerson?” T.J. twisted away from the stove long enough to ask the question, then turned back to his stirring as Eric shed his coat. The scent of peppers and garlic rose from the pot on the burner.

Eric smiled as he breathed in the smell. “Yeah, just needed to replace the fuse on his furnace and reset the circuit breaker. He’ll be warm and toasty again in no time.” His coat went over the back of a kitchen chair, and he was still sniffing as he slipped up behind his lover. He would have to find another job soon, but he still felt hesitant about job hunting. Being unable to drive added to his reluctance. He smoothed the fleece over T.J.’s hips with firm hands as the spoon scraped the side of the pot.

T.J. had been a solid rock of support during the legal proceedings that had threatened to rip their lives apart, and had been more than understanding during the months since the rigors of trials and restitution had ended. The neighbors were also thrilled with the handyman services Eric provided as a way to keep himself occupied. He never accepted payment, but more than once they had been the recipients of cakes, cookies, and pies, and had even received a baked ham at Christmas, saving them the expense of buying their own for Christmas dinner. But they both knew he would have to go back out into the real world sooner or later.

Those thoughts were still present when T.J. lifted the spoon from the pot in offering.

“Taste,” he said, holding one hand under the lip to catch any drippings. Eric complied, and moaned in appreciation.

“I will take that as a compliment,” T.J. told him cheerfully, and he leaned over the spoon to claim a peppery kiss before returning to his stirring. Eric followed the move by pressing in behind him, slipping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on T.J.’s shoulder to watch. T.J. used his free hand to stroke the forearm circling his stomach.

“Everything okay, baby?” he asked casually.

Eric sighed and tightened his arms for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. I was just thinking about how I need to try to get back to work, somewhere. I just don’t know where, or doing what, or how I’m going to get there. But I can’t stay home forever.”

T.J.’s hand stopped to cover Eric’s own, and he squeezed Eric’s fingers where they rested against his stomach. “Take as long as you need, baby. There’s no rush.”

“There might be when we run out of money. We still have house payments, car payments, food and utilities….” His fingers began twitching just a little in the fabric of the sweatshirt T.J. wore. They had sold the cameras Eric had bought but hadn’t gotten enough to cover the credit card charges Eric had compiled in purchasing them. The alarm system they had decided to keep, with the monitoring subscription adding another bill to the stack, and the payments for the fines had drained their savings even more. The 9mm became property of the Breten City Police Department, and Eric had no intention of reclaiming it. Ever.

“Hey,” T.J. said, leaving off the stirring to turn fully in Eric’s arms, raising his own arms to rest them over Eric’s shoulders. “We’ll be fine. We’re not going to freeze or starve or sleep on a park bench downtown. We can last a while longer.” They had talked once of selling Eric’s truck or trading T.J.’s Jeep for something more economical, but Eric didn’t want things to come to that. Not when this whole financial mess was his fault.

“We’ll be fine, baby,” T.J. repeated, leaning his forehead against Eric’s, his voice softening almost to a whisper. “You just take the time you need, okay?”

“I know, but I can’t take too much more time,” Eric told him just as quietly. “It’s not just me that’s having to pay the bills for all of this, and it’s not fair to you—”

T.J. stopped his words with a soft laugh. “This isn’t a business relationship, baby. I married you in every way except on paper, and I meant every word of the vows we made.” He moved their bodies closer until they were almost cuddling where they stood. “And I still do. For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” He claimed a gentle kiss. “Forever, baby, no matter what.”

“Even if you lose the Jeep?”

“Even if I lose the Jeep.”

“And the house?”

T.J. shrugged. “We can always rent, or look for something smaller.”

“We’re already eating out less, and going for hamburgers instead of steak when we’re here….”

“But we’re still eating fine, and we’re not going hungry.”

“And we may not be able to afford a vacation….”

Dusky laughter crept into T.J.’s voice as he brushed his nose against Eric’s, and the cuddle turned to grinding with a deliberate press of their bodies. “We don’t have to go anywhere to have a vacation, baby. We can have our own vacation right here, just you and me.”

The words were working, just as they had worked every time T.J. had said them during the last few months, and Eric couldn’t keep his own mood from lifting at the infectious teasing of his lover, or keep his own body from answering the press and rub of T.J.’s groin against his own. “Mmm, but what if we have to give up gay porn?”

T.J. groaned, but the effect was lost in a languid stroke of his hips that set both their nerves tingling. “Oh, now, that would be a sacrifice,” he stated huskily, but followed it with a gentle nip at Eric’s chin. “I guess we’ll just have to make our own.”

“Now I’m definitely on board with that,” Eric breathed, and he leaned forward to catch T.J.’s lips in a breath-stealing kiss worthy of any porn couple on film.

The last of his anxious mood slipped away under the deft play of hands and lips, and the touches and nips even managed to push his worries about their finances and his own lack of employment to the back of his mind. He knew how lucky he was to have T.J. in his life, and the relief, gratitude, and sheer joy he felt pressed him to break the kiss and pull T.J. into a warm embrace instead. He breathed in the scent of spices and aftershave as T.J. pulled him close enough to feel his heartbeat, and the warmth and closeness as T.J. simply held him did more to ground him than any of the therapy sessions he had attended without argument. The gentle pop of the chili on the stove counted the minutes as T.J.’s soothing presence eased his own anxious thoughts, and Eric could only add them to the time he had already spent hiding in T.J.’s arms while the dust of the disaster he had created settled around them. He wasn’t sure how T.J. knew when it was okay to let him go, but he never once did it before Eric was ready, and this time, like always, he added a kiss gentle enough to make sure Eric was settled firmly on the ground.

Then the tongue that slipped past his lips added heat to the mix, and by the time they separated for breath, Eric’s hands had found their way under T.J.’s sweatshirt, and the erection straining his jeans was stroking its match under T.J.’s fleece sweatpants.

“Think you can wait a while for supper?” T.J. asked, his voice low and sultry, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Not a doubt in my mind,” Eric answered, continuing to brush their bodies together in an effort to maintain contact.

T.J. nipped his lower lip, then reached behind him to turn off the burner. When his hand returned, it dropped lower, cupping Eric’s ass and pulling them together for a sturdy stroke of cock against cock.

“Bedroom,” T.J. whispered breathily. “I think I want to take some time with this.”

Eric answered him with a deep and sensual kiss, then pulled away reluctantly and took T.J.’s hand. Their financial future might still be uncertain, but their physical one was sound, and more importantly, their emotional future was strong and solid.

And that was the future that mattered the most.

About the Author

R.G. G
REEN
grew up listening to the continuous tap of a typewriter as her dad threw out page after page of captivating stories, giving root to her love of books and her absolute fascination with writing. Now older, with marriage, overseas living, and a host of wonderful experiences under her belt, the self-proclaimed book fiend has finally settled down enough to give the writing bug its due. Currently living in a small mountain town where peaceful quiet is the norm, R.G. now spends her time away from her day job doing the things she loves the most: reading, writing, and spoiling the two barking fuzzy critters who can make her laugh no matter what.