Light From The Dark: Protecting What's Theirs, page 2
I shielded my eyes from the bright light, blinking rapidly as I took in the modern kitchen. This looked like the home of a family of four who enjoyed spending time together at the kitchen table. It didn’t look like the home of a serial killer.
I stumbled across the room, leaving a bloody trail behind me, and through the living room, past a lovely leather couch and big screen TV hanging on the wall. I walked to the front door, turned the lock, and swung it open to see a row of similar houses lining the neighborhood.
I stumbled out the door and down the steps, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the birds chirping while a dog barked somewhere nearby.
When a woman driving by slammed on her brakes and jumped out of her car, I blinked, trying to tell her to call the police, but all that would come out of my throat was a whimper. I was completely done. All of my fight and determination to escape had drained what was left of my energy. My vision darkened as I watched her reach for her phone. When I heard her say she needed an ambulance and the police, I finally closed my eyes and crumpled to the pavement.
One
ETHAN
I was bone fucking weary when I parked my Mustang in the driveway and hefted my large frame out of the car. I was more than ready to get inside and just let myself relax. It had been a damn long day.
I walked through the door and inhaled the delicious aroma of food wafting from the kitchen. Unbuckling my shoulder holster and shrugging it off, I immediately checked my service weapon out of habit, ensuring the safety was on. I then slid it into the drawer of the table next to the front door. I waited for the light to blink, letting me know the hidden safe had locked, before finally toeing off my shoes.
“Long day?” Brent was leaning against the doorway to the living room, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. I took in his blue tee, gray sweatpants, and disheveled wet blond hair.
“You took a shower without me,” I pointed out gruffly.
He pushed away from the doorway and sauntered to me with his usual sexy swagger. Everything he did was with that damn swagger. It was no wonder I had fallen for him.
“Yes, but I can still wash your back if you want.”
When he reached me, he put his work-roughened hand on the back of my neck. I stared into his green eyes as I placed my hands on his waist before pulling him roughly against me. Our hard bodies slammed into each other almost as hard as our mouths. Our tongues tangled, wrestling for dominance, as usual. Neither one of us was soft, and neither one of us was willing to give in. It was always a battle in the bedroom, and it made life fucking fantastic.
“Mmmm. Dinner is done, but the stew can wait if you want that shower. You seem tense. Let me help you relax.”
Yeah, we were both dominant fuckers, but we loved each other, and we both knew how to give just as much as we knew how to take.
My stomach growled at the thought of waiting for food, and I grunted. “I’ll take you up on the shower. But food first, fucking later.”
He stepped back after nipping at my lower lip. “Of course. I’m at your service.”
I barked out a laugh and swatted him on the ass as he turned to walk away. “Like hell you are.”
He threw a wink over his shoulder and kept walking. I followed, staring at his firm, round ass the whole way. I had to adjust my dick in my slacks. He never failed to turn me the fuck on. I could be sick with the flu, and he would waltz into the room, looking like a golden movie star, holding a bottle of nasty-tasting medicine, and I’d still get a hard-on the size of Manhattan. Not that he ever waltzed anywhere. Maybe stalk or stomp.
Once seated at the table with large bowls of stew and a plate of rolls sitting in front of us, he asked me what had gone on with my day.
“I got a call today. Domestic abuse. Turns out the fucker had been beating his wife and children.” I paused and forced myself to swallow the bread that suddenly felt like a lump of lead in my throat. “His little girl had that look to her.”
Brent narrowed his green eyes dangerously at me. “Did he…”
I shook my head. “I didn’t get a straight answer from either the mom or the little girl. But if I had to place a bet on it, I’d say yes.”
He slowly laid his spoon down on the table and folded his arms in front of him. Anyone else watching would think he was concerned about the little girl. They’d be right. But they wouldn’t see what I did, what he hid so well. The rage that roiled like a stormy sea behind those mossy green eyes. A sea that would drag its victim down into the depths of the ocean and drown them until they were no longer alive.
“Did she press charges?” His words were forced out from behind clenched teeth.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “No.”
He looked away and stared at the window covered in a plain blue curtain. “Goddammit.”
I grunted out my agreement.
“Do you have his information?” His eyes burned into me with the question I knew to expect. I pulled a slip of paper out of my pocket and slid it over to Brent. It had a name, address, place of business, phone number, and any other pertinent information he would need.
Brent grunted and picked his spoon back up. We both went back to our dinner. Once we were done, we stood at the sink together, with him rinsing the dishes as I placed them neatly in the dishwasher the way I knew he preferred. The kitchen was his domain, and I had no problem following the rules he had set in place. Once the kitchen was tidy again, he turned to me and grabbed my tie.
“Shower time,” he growled before slamming his mouth to mine with a brutal kiss. I knew telling him about the little girl would get him in a mood, but I also knew that it was necessary. I may have been a detective, but there was only so much I could do. The police’s hands were often tied with bureaucratic bullshit. People didn’t like to tell on their abusers, fearing that they would be in even more shit if they did. Sometimes, justice wasn’t served because of some idiot fucking up and mishandling evidence.
When the innocent suffered, people like Brent were the real heroes.
I followed my life partner into our bedroom and began to strip off my clothes. As I removed each piece, he took it from me and put it where it belonged. I never argued his need for tidiness and for everything to have a place. Brent needed things in his life to be orderly. He couldn’t live with chaos, or it would make his head spin. I understood it. I loved him enough to give in and let him keep the order in our home.
After he rolled my tie up and slid it into the drawer, he turned to me while pushing it closed. He eyed my half-hard cock. His grin was wicked, and he still had a hard glint in his eyes. Our night was going to wear me out in the best of ways.
“You aren’t naked,” I pointed out as I stepped into him.
“Give me two point three seconds, and I will be.”
“Not soon enough.” I backed away from him as he started reaching for me and headed into the bathroom. By the time I had the shower heads blasting hot water, he was behind me, running his hands over my abs before sliding them down to firmly grasp my cock. He rubbed his erection against the small of my back, and feeling it there, hot and hard, was enough to have my own cock ready.
“In,” he whispered, and bit my ear roughly.
We stepped in together, our bodies staying in sync, never losing touch with each other. I placed my hands against the wall and let the hot water rush over me, relaxing my tense muscles even as they tightened for a different reason. Brent jacked off my cock with one hand as he grabbed the body wash with the other. Then, without releasing me, he popped the top on the body wash, and I hissed as I felt the cold liquid pour down my back.
“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to be a good boy and take it.” He growled into my ear as he ran his hand through the soap and brought it down to my ass, and rubbed against my asshole with his slicked-up fingers.
Like fuck.
I spun around and slammed him against the wall as he laughed in my face.
“Call me a good boy again,” I challenged, grabbing his cock and jacking it roughly against mine. Our heads rubbed together, making us both let out guttural groans.
“Why,” he grunted and ground into my hold, “when you do such naughty things when I say it?”
“I’ll show you naughty.” I let go of his cock and shoved hard down on his shoulders. “Suck me.”
He looked up at me with a wicked smirk. Then, he opened those gorgeous, full lips and swallowed down my cock like it wasn’t as thick as a long-necked beer bottle and as long as one, too.
I dropped my head back and groaned long and loud into the steaming shower. “Fuuuck. That’s so fucking good, baby.” I slid my fingers through his thick hair and gripped it tightly. There was no telling when he’d decide that he wanted control again, and his mouth felt too good to lose. I spread my legs wider and prepared for the onslaught of pleasure that only he had ever been able to give me.
I glanced down at him. His mouth was open wide, stretched to the limit as he sucked me deep, before sliding up to my tip to swirl his tongue over my hole. Then he swallowed me down again, just to repeat the process. Seeing his hand gripping his own massive cock, gaining his own pleasure from giving, was enough to have my balls drawing up tight.
I gripped his head firmly and pressed my hips forward, making him take my entire length as my cock began pumping my come from my balls. He swallowed with every pulse, the suction of his mouth making my toes curl with pleasure. I staggered back once the last spurt left my cock and watched with half-lidded eyes as he rose from his kneeling position and licked his swollen lips.
“My turn,” he growled. I was far too sated to put up an argument, as he turned me back around to face the wall. Instead, I braced myself, relaxing as much as possible when a giant cock was about to enter my ass, and shuddered as he ran his fingertips over my hole. “I fucking like it when you get all loose and relaxed for me,” he murmured as he placed his tip at my entrance. “It makes it so sweet when I get to do this…”
He pressed in slowly. He never took me in a way that would hurt me, the same as I was always careful with him. When his chest was flush with my back, he reached around and ran his hands over my abs and up my chest to pinch at my hard nipples before running them back down my body again. I was still too sensitive to have my cock touched again so soon, but that didn’t stop him from running a hand over the length and then back up to my abs.
He pulled out slowly, then paused. I braced myself, planting my feet wide. He was careful entering me, but once inside, all bets were off. The air left me as he slammed back in. Gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises, he pummelled my ass. Both of our groans filled the shower as he took his pleasure with my body. I loved the way his cock head felt as it rubbed inside my ass. It was enough to have my cock stirring again.
He always knew what I needed as he grabbed my now hardening cock. He began to pump it in his tight fist as he continued his brutal pace. It didn’t take long before both of us were grunting out our releases.
Fully sated, I leaned against the wall and allowed Brent to wash my body. He took his time, careful to get every inch of me clean. Once he was satisfied he’d done a thorough job, he reached over to shut off the water and leaned into me, giving me a soft peck on the lips.
“All done.”
After drying off and brushing our teeth, I let him lead me into the bedroom, where he pulled the covers back from their neatly tucked corners.
We slid in from opposite sides and met in the middle of the king-sized bed. I placed my hand on his hard abs as he lay on his back with his hands folded behind his head.
“Don’t worry, Brent. You’ll get justice for her.”
His grunt of agreement was the last thing I knew as I drifted off to sleep.
Two
CASEY
I stepped off the bus into a small town somewhere in Texas; having lost track of where I was. I had ridden on so many buses, crisscrossing so many states, that I was tired of traveling. I looked around the busy terminal, trying to find a sign with a city name, but I gave up after being jostled too many times.
I grabbed my rolling suitcase and hefted my backpack over my shoulders. I had promised not to tell my mom where I was going. Though I missed her like crazy, I knew I couldn’t call her. Calls were able to be traced too easily.
I stepped out into the sunshine and was instantly hit by a wall of heat and humidity. In our coastal town in northern California, it was almost always cool or pleasantly warm. It certainly had never gotten as hot as it felt right now. I already had sweat forming at my temples and was tempted to take my hoodie off.
After leaving the hospital and talking to one detective or FBI agent after another, I had retreated into myself. Finally, my mom convinced me to see a therapist to talk about my ordeal. The woman was nice enough, but I’d had trouble reliving my time in that basement. I’d given the police all the information I could, but it didn’t matter. The man had disappeared without a trace.
Somehow, the Castle Killer had escaped without anyone knowing his identity. His neighbors didn’t know him. The name he had given to his landlord was an alias and had been stolen from another man that had died in a car accident. The police didn’t even know what he looked like because all I could give them was a description of his nose. And that might not even be correct because I had only seen him once and refused to look at him again.
With the serial killer on the loose and me as his only living victim, my parents and I had decided that it was in my best interest to get away. So they pulled every penny from their savings account, gave it to me in cash, and then put me on a bus with strict instructions to keep going until I felt safe. After spending almost two weeks on buses, I finally realized I would never feel safe.
I saw a diner a block down the road and began to walk in that direction. Perhaps something to eat that didn’t come from a vending machine would help me decide if I wanted to keep going to another town or if I was ready to call it good. At the moment, I was famished and needed to sleep in an actual bed and not on a bus.
The bell jingled above my head as I walked in, keeping my eyes on the floor. Then, I heard a cheery voice call out to me and tell me to sit anywhere I liked. I pulled my suitcase behind me as I walked across the black and white tiled floor to sit with my back to the wall, facing the front, needing to see who was coming in. Even though I didn’t know what he looked like, just the thought of him catching me off-guard was enough to have me want to vomit.
I slid into a soft booth covered in bright red vinyl and sighed, relaxing my shoulders. I pulled my suitcase against the wall next to me to keep it out of the way but within reach if I needed to leave quickly.
“Hey, there, darlin’. I haven’t seen you around here before.” The lady asked with a distinct Texan drawl as she handed me a menu and placed a glass of water in front of me, already sweating from the amount of ice in it.
“Hi,” I said softly. “I, umm, I just got off the bus.”
“Oh, yeah?” She perked up. “You here visiting family?”
I just shook my head as I pulled the menu in front of me and opened it to see pictures of hamburgers on one side and breakfast foods on the other. It all looked so good.
“Oh. Just passing through, then?”
I looked up at her and saw kindness in her brown eyes as she looked me over. I could see pity there, too, and knew she thought I was running from something. Well, she’d be right. But I was willing to bet it wasn’t what she was thinking.
“I just needed to get away. I don’t know if I’m staying or going at the moment. But I would love a cheeseburger and fries, please.”
The bell on the door jingled, and we both looked up to see a man in dusty blue jeans and a dirty white t-shirt with the name Mason Construction on the front.
“Hey there, Brent!” she called out to the man with a huge smile. “Have a seat, hun. I’ll be right with you.”
He waved at her on his way to a booth, but stopped in his tracks when our eyes met. I sucked in a breath at the hypnotizing beauty of his eyes. He was tall, probably six-three or four, with dark blond hair and full lips. His body looked hard and muscular, likely from all the hard physical labor he did daily. His tee stretched tight across his broad chest, showing off his defined arm muscles that were covered in black ink. I couldn’t tell what the art was, but I could see bits of it peeking out from the collar of his shirt, stretching up to his neck.
As he took me in, I realized that I probably looked like a mess. I hadn’t had a shower beyond a quick scrub down in bus terminal bathroom sinks in almost two weeks. My clothes were wrinkly and smelly, I was sure. I probably had circles under my eyes from lack of proper sleep.
But the way he stared at me had tingles racing down my spine. I looked away quickly and picked up my glass of water with both hands. I gripped it tightly, hoping that no one would notice my trembling fingers.
“Alright, darlin’, let me get your burger put in. Do you want a drink to go with it? My name is Grace, by the way.”
I cleared my throat. “Water is fine. Thank you, Grace.” She tapped the table and paused as if she wanted to say something else, but left. I chanced a glance over to see if that Brent guy was still staring, but I didn’t see him anymore. I tried to tamp down the disappointment as I stared back into the ice inside my glass.
I didn’t bother looking around anymore and watched the glass as if it held the meaning of life. Lost in thought, I jumped when a plate was placed in front of me.
“Here you go, darlin’. The fries are hot, so watch out for those.” She slid a chocolate milkshake onto the table next. “This here is on the house. You looked like you could use something sweet.” I blinked at the milkshake, touched by the gesture. Then, before I could thank her, the waitress slipped away to another table.
I ate slowly, keeping my head down, only glancing up when I heard the bells jingle, alerting everyone that a new customer had come inside the diner. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was looking for. The killer could walk right up to me, and I wouldn’t even realize who he was. It was the main reason my parents had been so desperate for me to escape. They were convinced he would never just let a victim go.
