Fearless Leader (Juxtapose City) (23 page)

Jake tossed his head, flipping sweat from his eyes. "Maybe I'm keeping what I know to myself."

"Mmm, maybe. But somehow I doubt it."

The two men continued to warily circle each other within the otherwise empty training room. Bee and Haney had wisely decided to watch the men face off from the safety of the video system connected to the T.V. in the living room.

"We were together for several months," Jake said, jumping aside as Calyx tried a leg sweep on him. "Being lovers involves a level of intimacy that you can't get as teammates."

"Ah, but is that true of Black?" Calyx smirked as Jake swung at him. "Touched a nerve, did I? You may have had our leader in bed, Cole, but I doubt he spilled his heart to you. He doesn't strike me as the type."

Jake stopped and straightened. "So if that's what you think why are you pursuing him? You want a quick fuck, is that it?"

Calyx relaxed out of his fighting stance as well. Now that he was no longer tensed his body registered the abuse it had taken in the last forty-five minutes. Jake was good at hand-to-hand; Calyx knew he'd be hurting tomorrow. Jake had also been an unexpectedly fair fighter, not resorting to any of the dirty tricks the empath had expected out of the man considering their relationship.

"What I want from Black is not your concern," Calyx told him. "He's a grown man. He can take care of himself."

Jake snorted. "You're right about that. If you try to fuck with him he'll make you regret it."

"Then what I do with him shouldn't bother you, should it?"

Jake grinned. "You know what? You're absolutely right. Go right ahead and take him to bed, Starr. I think I'd enjoy watching you get tossed on your ass once it's over."

Calyx smiled thinly. "You know next to nothing about Black. You know even less about me. But I appreciate having your blessing on our union, sweetheart."

Jake scowled.

Dressed in his own clothes again, Black descended the stairs and cautiously entered the living room. Sundhill's team was scattered across the sofas admiring a collection of guns and equipment laid out upon the coffee table. Flaherty was the first to look up at Black, his eyes widening as he shot to his feet.

"What the hell are
you
doing here?"

"I was invited," Black replied calmly.

"Bullshit," said Henderson, a stocky man an inch shorter than Black who'd come directly from the military. The man had a baseball cap drawn over his light red hair, casting his eyes in shadow as he faced Black. "The lieutenant wouldn't bring you here. Not JC2."

"Obviously, you're wrong," Black told him with forced patience. Ignoring the hostile glares sent his way, he nodded towards the weapon strewn table. "Your goods from the Gun Expo? Is that the new SIG/Sauer-90?"

One of the other men -- Black couldn't' remember his name -- picked up said weapon and casually aimed it in Black's direction. Black wasn't concerned. The gun's clip was still on the table.

"A beauty isn't it?" the man said, looking down the sights at Black. "So smooth you don't know you've pulled the trigger until you see the bad guy exploding in front of you."

"It's just a transition model though," Black said, crossing his arms across his chest and trying to appear relaxed. "The SIG-100 comes out in seven months with a twenty-two percent reduction in muzzle flash and a higher capacity magazine: nineteen loaded with one in the chamber. That one carries only sixteen, if I remember right."

The man dropped the gun and looked at Black incredulously. "Are you shitting me?"

When Black shook his head, Henderson reached over and took the gun out of his teammate's hand, studying it critically. "Heh, sounds like you just got screwed out of four hundred bucks, Stu. I told you that you should have done your research before we went."

"You know a lot about guns for someone who's been handling one for only a couple of years," Flaherty said quietly.

The weight of the older man's scrutiny was difficult not to flinch beneath. Black shrugged. "I'm a good student."

"How long
have
you been in the department?" Flaherty pressed. "No one seems to know much about you, Lieutenant Black. Or whatever your name is."

Black felt the tension in the room rise a notch. Flaherty was the oldest man present and definitely the most experienced. Compared to the sergeant Black probably seemed little better than a meter maid. "My qualifications are enough to satisfy Captain Dickerson. That should be answer enough."

"What qualifications are those?" he heard one of the other men whisper loudly. "Deep-throating without gagging?"

Black felt his anger rising though he'd been determined to keep his cool. "You're welcome to ask the captain yourself. Better yet let's take this into the training room and I'll show you exactly why I was given command of JC2."

"I'll answer that challenge," Flaherty said, rising to his feet. "Nothing would please me more than to wipe the mats with a snot-nosed kid like you."

"That's enough, Will."

They turned as one as Sundhill came down the hallway. Lines of tension slashing his cheeks on either side of his mouth.

"Lieutenant Black is here by my invitation. He's a guest, not to mention he's a superior officer, s
ergeant
."

Black would have preferred that Sundhill not pull rank but it was too late. The resentment in Sundhill's men grew more intense as they turned back to glare at him.

"Don't worry about it," Black said, fishing his keys out of his jeans pocket. "I'm on my way out, anyway. I've got work to do."

"I promised you a beer," Sundhill reminded him.

"I'll take a rain check."

Black felt the other men's stares on the back of his head as he moved to the front door with Sundhill in tow. He prayed the other lieutenant wouldn't touch him in front of the team.

"We didn't get a chance to go over those field strategies I was telling you about," Sundhill said with what looked like genuine regret on his face. He held the door open as Black moved onto the porch. "You'd better believe I'm going to hold you to that rain check, lieutenant."

"Another time," Black agreed noncommittally. The fresh air cleared his head, the dizzying effects of Sundhill's presence not quite as potent when escape was a few feet away. "Thanks for inviting me over."

Sundhill smiled the kind of smile that made schoolgirls giggle and elderly women blush. Black dug the bike keys into the palm of his hand to distract himself.

"Did you enjoy yourself even a little bit?" the older man asked. "I wanted to distract you from work and all the rest that’s happened lately."

"I-I did," Black admitted. He wanted to return the smile but decided it safer to extend his hand without one. "Thank you again, lieutenant."

Sundhill took his hand in a warm grip, not shaking it but holding it. "Eventually I'll get you to call me Andrew. It's a personal goal of mine." He winked. "Among others."

Black swallowed with difficulty and pulled his hand back. "Good-bye."

Riding his electro-bike back to JC2 was nothing less than torture. They didn't call it a crotch rocket for nothing.

In his office in the JCPD headquarters Captain Dickerson re-read the latest report turned in by his informant.

"God damnit," he snarled with a vehemence that would have made the officers under his command blanch in fear.

He prided himself on his ability to construct well-formed plans and carry them out flawlessly. He had the patience of a saint and even if it took years he kept his agenda in mind the entire time. This report however, threatened to undermine his carefully laid foundation.

He tapped his fingers atop his desk, thinking furiously. There had to be a way to salvage this before it fell apart. There had to be...

A dark smile slowly crossed his face as an idea took shape in his head. It was risky -- very risky -- but from what Dickerson knew of his subjects there was a chance of it working. He had no choice regardless. He couldn't sit back and watch his years of hard work come tumbling down around his ears. He had ambitions -- high ambitions -- and he'd be damned if he allowed anyone to come between him and what he wanted.

He picked up his PRU.

Black answered immediately, his handsome face expressionless as it always was whenever Dickerson called him. Dickerson held back a smile of satisfaction.

"I want you to send me Starr," he told the younger man. "Not here. I'll send you the directions."

"Yes, sir."

No questions, no hint of disobedience. That was Black. Dickerson uploaded the information to the lieutenant's PRU and studied the report again.

"You poor fool," he muttered without any real sympathy whatsoever. "Things have taken a turn for the worse and you're going to be the first to pay the price."

Chuckling quietly, he locked the report in his desk and grabbed his jacket.

Black sat on his bike and studied the directions Captain Dickerson had uploaded to his PRU. It was a hotel he had never been to. But he recognized the neighborhood. Damn.

The sound of plastic cracking forced him to ease his grip on the unit.
He's not asking for you. He's got business with Starr. Get a grip.

But Starr was now
his
business. The empath might grate on his last nerve but Starr was part of JC2, which meant he was under Black's unspoken protection. No one would harm a member of his team if he could prevent it.

But could he prevent whatever
this
was?

"You're jumping to conclusions," he muttered, swinging his leg over the chassis and hanging up his helmet. He had to trust that the captain had legitimate reasons for wanting to see Starr.

He just had to.

When he entered the Clubhouse Starr was sitting on a chair in the tactics room, facing the garage door.

"Waiting up for me?" Black said with a smile. His afternoon with Lieutenant Sundhill had put him in a better mood. Despite what had happened with Starr earlier Black was determined to keep things light to diffuse the negative energy between them.

Starr was wearing a gray JCPD T-shirt that he'd cut the sleeves and hem off of so that it bared his shoulders and flat stomach. Navy blue sweatpants covered the empath's long legs as they sprawled wide on either side of the chair.

"You trained with Jake," Black said in surprise, noting the other man's damp hair and the faint flush of exertion that pinkened his skin. A small rush of pleasure and hope filled him. "How did it go?"

Starr didn't return the smile. "A lot of unnecessary groping at first," he replied, making Black smile again. "Then we got down to business and gave each other bruises in all the right places." The empath's eyes narrowed. "But that's boring stuff, sweetheart. I want to hear the really interesting gossip. How was your date with the Golden Wonder?"

Black's pleasure died. He took of his jacket and draped it on the wall with the others'. "It wasn't a date."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I am
not
blushing," Black replied tightly. He forced the muscles in his shoulders to relax. "We were supposed to go over some tactics and compare notes but the rest of his team came home."

"Then what
did
you do?"

Let him rub his body over mine. Let him make me so hard I thought I would burst.

"Nothing worth mentioning."

Starr's fingers played across his belly. Starr had long, lean fingers. Artist fingers. They were probably very nimble. Black shook his head, wondering where his thoughts were leading to.

"Did Sundhill try to put the moves on you?" Starr asked softly. His eyes gleamed as they watched Black for reaction.

"That doesn't concern you." He didn't know why the hell he was defending himself to Starr.

"Did he try to kiss you?"

Black ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "I said forget it."

Starr dropped his leg from the arm of the chair and leaned forward. "He did, didn't he?" He laughed without humor. "Of course he did. It was obvious he wanted you when we were at the range."

"Officers in the department don't pursue each other like horny teenagers the way you're doing with me," Black said, his temper rising. "Especially not him. Lieutenant Sundhill is the most decorated officer in the department. We share a mutual respect. He wants to help me with my career. He wants--"

"-- to manipulate your hero worship so he can fuck your brains out," Starr snapped, standing up. "I know you're not that naive, sweetheart. But maybe you're just a little too enamored with him to see what he's up to. Respect you? Maybe. But you've been the leader of JC2 for how long? Less than a year?"

Old insecurities rose up. Black dug his nails into his palms, trying not to show how much Starr's words bothered him. He refused to believe that Sundhill only wanted him for that. Black was a good officer. He was a voracious student of police procedure. He was willing to work harder than anyone else, to sacrifice everything. He had...