Wicked Hearts (15 page)

~*~

“You"ve reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If

you think you dialed this number in error—” Hank ended the call and stared at his

phone. Had he misdialed? He tried again and got the same message.

Something wrong with Reese"s landline. He tried his cell—it rang a while and then

just—stopped. What the hell?

Hank felt his jaw twitching and realized he was clenching his teeth. He hadn"t been

himself for weeks. Good thing he"d dealt with that troublemaking Hartman when he

did. Things had gotten way out of control.

He chuckled, remembering the look of stunned disbelief on that poor geek"s face

when Hank had broken the news. Like that nerd actually thought he had a chance with

the likes of Reese Armstrong. He"d felt almost bad for the guy, but at least he"d let him

down fast. A clean break. It was best that way.

Because Reese belonged to Hank. He always had, and he always would.

Later that evening, when he was sure Reese would be home from work, Hank

drove to his place. The motorcycle wasn"t there. Frustrated, Hank went to the door and

knocked. No answer. He looked for key on his keychain and pressed it into the lock.

Reese would sing a different tune when he came home and found the first class tickets

to Paris on his kitchen table.

The key didn"t fit. He tried again, and then examined the key more closely. Perhaps

he"d chosen the wrong one. He peered at the lock. It looked different. Holy shit! Had

Reese actually had his locks changed? Coincidence? The disconnected landline, the

malfunctioning cell…The coin finally dropped.

Reese was shutting him out!

Impossible.

Or was it?

Well, he"d just see about that.

That Monday morning Jeff was relieved there was no sign of either Reese"s

motorcycle or car in the parking lot. He could slip into the office and get to his desk

without fear of seeing that two-faced bastard. He was already an hour late getting in.

He"d dawdled over his breakfast, anxious at the thought of seeing Reese again. He

was going to have to find some way to get past the whole awkward office thing. He

guessed they weren"t the first two idiots to get involved and then break up with

someone at work. But that didn"t make it any easier.

He considered calling in to let people know he"d be working from home, but some

of the data he needed was stored on his work computer and it would slow him down

not to have it. Besides, he"d be damned if he let Reese keep him away. He refused to

give Reese the satisfaction. If he saw him, and he wouldn"t be able to avoid him forever

at work, he"d just turn away.

He moved quickly through the building, not even stopping for his usual cup of

coffee. When he got to his desk he saw the cupcake and his heart lurched in spite of his

resolve. He sat at his desk and booted up his computer, eyeing the cupcake.

It was such an obvious ploy—trying to win him back by reminding him of happier

times. Why was he even bothering? Was this part of the bet? See how long it took to get

the loser to take him back? Well, it wouldn"t work.

Jeff swept the cupcake into the trashcan by his desk. That"s when he noticed the

envelope beneath it, his name scrawled across it in a masculine hand. The envelope

looked crumpled, as if it had been stuffed into a pocket. Jeff almost smiled, thinking of

Reese on his motorcycle, the envelope jammed into his back pocket, the cupcake in its

white bakery bag resting on the seat between his thighs…

Stop it.
Jeff closed his mind to the images and pushed the envelope into the trashcan

unopened. Feeling grimly empowered, he focused on his work. Reese could go fuck

himself.

By the end of the day, to Jeff"s relief, Reese had never made an appearance at the

office. Jeff stood and stretched, moderately amazed he"d been able to focus as well as he

had. He"d take home the new specs on his latest project and do a little work on his

laptop. He put the files he needed into his backpack and reached for the flash drive he

would need at home.

He stared it for several long seconds, recalling that other flash drive, the one Hank

had dropped on his floor and he in turn had thrown at Reese in his rage.

That was all behind him now. He"d get over Reese. It wouldn"t be long before the

misery that had engulfed him like a cold cloud since Saturday would lift and float

away. He would move on with his life, wiser for the pain.

As he started to walk away from his desk, on an impulse he reached into the trash

can. Grabbing the envelope, he shoved it into his backpack, barely acknowledging to

himself what he"d done.

~*~

Okay. So Jeff hadn"t called. It was only eight o"clock. He might have worked late.

Or he might not even have gone in. That might be it! Maybe Jeff had taken the day off

and worked from home. Maybe he hadn"t even seen the card yet. Was the cupcake still

sitting untouched on top of it?

Reese had arrived at Strata Systems early that Monday, so as to be sure Jeff wasn"t

yet at his desk. The cupcake was a nice touch, if he said so himself. Jeff would

remember happier times, and how in love they had been. He would eat the cupcake,

read the card and call Reese.

Wasn"t it ironic—his new career was taking off, just as his personal life was

crashing and burning. Or rather, had crashed and burned. Hank had seen to that, the

bastard.

It had felt good to get the locks changed and cancel his landline, something he"d

been meaning to do anyway. The locksmith had come out on Sunday, but it had been

worth the extra charge to get it done. First thing Monday he"d put a block on Hank"s

numbers, so that when he called Reese"s cell, it would just ring a while and then

disconnect. Hopefully Hank had finally gotten the message.

It was at once strange and freeing to have finally severed the ties that had bound

them together for so long. It made Reese realize he could have done this years ago, and

probably should have. Hank had been whispering poison in his ear for so long, he"d

come to believe it as gospel truth.

He had news for Hank, if he ever wanted to hear it. True love
did
exist, and Reese

could vouch for it firsthand. He stared at his phone, willing it to ring, but it remained as

silent as the dead.

To distract himself, Reese watched TV for a while. He considered going out to a bar

or club, but couldn"t be bothered. A couple of scotch and sodas and two movies later,

Reese finally hauled himself off to bed.

As he lay wide-eyed it suddenly occurred to him—Jeff might not have read the

card. He might have tossed it without even opening it, the way he"d slammed the door

in Reese"s face, without even giving him the chance to explain.

But was there really any explanation for what he"d done? Could you explain away

secretly videotaping sex with someone and then handing it over to someone else for

money? Was there any way at all to clean that up? Even if Jeff had given him a chance

to explain, what would he have said?

Reese tossed and turned, his pillow hot, his feet cold, his mind roiling. He finally

lay still, staring up into the dark, wondering if Jeff missed him, even a little bit. When

he finally drifted off to sleep, it was into a tangle of dreams.

~*~

Tuesday morning the sealed envelope sat on Jeff"s kitchen table while he ate his

cereal and tried to read the newspaper. He should have left it in the garbage where it

belonged.

His eye slid toward it. What harm would there be in just reading it? It didn"t mean

he would fall for the guy"s bullshit—he"d just see how far Reese was willing to go in his

games. It would serve to make Jeff stronger—reminding himself he was up against a

consummate player.

He slipped his fingertip beneath the seal and opened the envelope, extracting the

card inside. On the front was a photograph of the Colorado Rockies, the sun just rising

behind them in a burst of gold. Despite himself, Jeff smiled. They had shared some

wonderful times on those trails, not just the hot, stolen kisses, but the long walks and

the peaceful silences as they stared out at the vastness of the landscape.

Inside, Reese had written:
I’m so sorry I hurt you. I would like to spend the next fifty

years making it up to you, if only you’d give me the chance. I am not the man I was when we

met. You have changed me. You have shown me the possibility of love. Yours, Reese

Jeff held the card a long time, trying to tell himself this was just another in a series

of ploys to use and humiliate him. Yet he couldn"t help but wonder—maybe Reese was

sincere? Maybe, at least, Jeff should hear him out?

The image of Hank Seeley rose suddenly in his mind, those hard, cold eyes

laughing at him. Much of Hank"s hurtful words were etched into Jeff"s mind with razor

sharp clarity.
…You should know this whole thing started with a bet. Reese and I are lovers,

you see. Oh, yes. Don’t look so surprised.
…
On a dare, I bet Reese he couldn’t get the nerdiest

little creep in his office into bed inside of a week. He said he could have his cock up that pathetic

loser’s ass before the guy knew what hit him.

And he had. With embarrassing ease, Reese had moved quickly past all Jeff"s

reserves, taking what he set out to get, videotaping it, and apparently making a tidy

sum in the process. Well, fuck him! He could be sorry all he wanted. That wouldn"t

undo what he"d done. Just the fact he could do it at all spoke volumes about his true

character and intent.

Jeff would not be seduced again by pretty words and false sentiment. With

deliberation, he tore the card in half, and then tore those halves, again and again until

nothing was left but tattered remains.

As Jeff walked toward his car, he heard Reese"s voice. “Jeff. Wait.”

He whipped around, his heart leaping high in his throat despite his resolve not to

react. Reese was standing on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. He looked

good, dressed in a dark blue T-shirt, jeans and black leather boots. His golden blond

hair shimmered in the morning sun. He offered a tentative smile and Jeff nearly smiled

in return, but caught himself in time.

Without responding, he continued to walk to his car. Once inside, he turned the key

with resolve, though he couldn"t resist looking in his rearview mirror. Reese hadn"t

moved. He was staring at the ground and for a moment Jeff"s heart ached for him. Then

he remembered who he was dealing with. Putting the car in gear, he drove away.

~*~

Bob Sanchez sat behind the large glass table that served as his desk. He wore an

imposing waxed handlebar mustache, his head shaved smooth over a tangle of

eyebrows. There being no door to knock on, Reese said politely, “Excuse me, Bob. Is this

a good time?”

Bob looked up and smiled, waving a hand toward one of the chairs in front of his

desk. “Absolutely. What can I do ya" for?”

Reese sat, aware it was too soon into a new job to ask. Well, what the hell. It wasn"t

like he was on salary, so it wouldn"t cost the company anything directly. “I, uh, I need

to ask for a little time off. I know it"s been less than six months, but something"s come

up. I need about a week. Two at the most. I"ve already talked to Doug and Sam about

the possibility. They can cover my existing clients" needs while I"m out. I can finish out

this week and take off by the weekend.” He girded himself for a refusal.

But Bob just nodded. “Absolutely. You"ve been doing an excellent job, Reese. I was

just thinking it was time for your first review. I like to think of Strata Systems as a

family. You have some things you need to take care, or shit, even if you just want to run

off to Cancun for a while, it"s totally cool with me.”

“Thanks, Bob, I really appreciate it.” That sure was different from the clock-in,

clock-out, request-vacation-time-six-months-in-advance mentality at the Seeley

construction companies. It honestly hadn"t occurred to Reese it would be so easy.

This past week and a half he"d been living in a waking nightmare. Jeff refused to

speak to him or see him. It was the first time in Reese"s life where something mattered

so much, and yet he was powerless to change it. He"d committed the crime and

apparently Jeff was judge and jury. Reese was guilty, with no reprieve.

He tried to tell himself it was for the best. He"d fucked up and Jeff had called him

on it. Better to wash his hands of the whole affair and move on. There were plenty of

hot guys out there. Who needed Jeff Hartman?

Somehow he forced himself to come in to work, but Jeff"s presence in the corner of

the building distracted him so much he couldn"t concentrate on a thing. He took to