You Belong to Me – 12

 

 

Forty-five minutes later, his shopping cart almost full, Corey wheeled it toward the produce department. He paused by a display of spices that were on sale, wondering if he’d ever use any of them, when he felt as if he were being watched. Turning slowly, he looked around. There were several people in the vicinity, but none of them seemed to be paying any special attention to him. “Nerves,” he muttered under his breath and moved on.

 

After getting tomatoes and potatoes, he checked out the cauliflower, trying to find a head that didn’t have black spots on it. Again he got the creepy feeling someone was staring at him. And again, when he looked around, no one seemed interested in him. Still, unnerved now, he grabbed a bunch of broccoli, tossed it in the cart, and headed toward the checkout counters, stopping just long enough to snag some bananas on the way.

 

Five bags of groceries—and way too much money spent—later, he was at his car. As he put the bags in the trunk, he kept glancing at the other people in the lot, wondering if one of them was…what? A stalker? His gift giver?

 

It wasn’t until he was back in his apartment that Corey was able to shake the feeling of being watched. He got everything put away, and then, not wanting to leave again, he decided it would be a good time to hang the pictures his parents had given him for Christmas.

 

He laughed, looking around his living room. I need a fifth wall. Given that every open space on the four walls was filled with pictures he had collected or been given, that wasn’t far from the truth. However, with some judicious rearrangement, he was able to hang the new ones. An hour later Corey stepped back, pleased with the results.

 

By then it was suppertime, and with food in the house, he set about fixing something to eat. When it was ready, he took his meal into the living room, settled down on the sofa, and ate while watching the news. The only interesting part, in his opinion, was finding out the weather would be seasonably cold but not unbearable. Tomorrow will be a good day to stay inside, though. Maybe, when I’ve finished chores, I can finally read the book Kerry gave me. With that settled, he did the dishes and went back to watch a couple of his favorite programs before going to bed.

 

It took him a long time to fall asleep. Thoughts of his stalker, had him tossing and turning, trying to figure out who it could be. Finally his mind calmed down, and he slept.

You Belong to Me – 11

 

 

'You still aren’t wearing my present.'

 

Corey found the printed message slipped under his door when he got home mid-Sunday morning after his night with Renny. It would have been bad enough if it had come in the mail, like the previous one had. The fact that his stalker—and he was now beginning to believe that’s what the person was—had gotten into the building to hand deliver it did not make him the least bit happy. In fact, he was beginning to be afraid.

 

Where are you, that you can watch me without my knowing it? At the club? At the shelter?

 

He knew the shelter, with its vast turnover of clients, was a possibility. There was no way he could remember every man who came through the doors. If one of them was paying special attention to him, would he even be aware of it? Of course, the same held true for the club.

 

What Corey couldn’t figure out was why someone had decided to fixate on him. It’s not as if I’m anything special. Hell, there are men at the club who make me look like… nothing the least bit exceptional.

 

He crumpled the note and tossed it into the wastebasket, realizing as he did so that the last one was in there too since he hadn’t emptied the trash in the last week. For a moment he debated rescuing both of them. But to what end? It wasn’t as if there was anything in them to identify the sender, since—he was quite certain—they had been created on a computer. And fingerprints? I’ve probably ruined them by handling the notes.

 

He wondered what would happen if he did start wearing the watch. The idea creeped him out, but still he thought it might be worth a shot.

 

He also considered—again—calling Kerry but decided worrying his brother when there was nothing he could do but give advice wasn’t worth the stress that might ensue. If Kerry told their parents…. Corey didn’t want to think what would happen if he did. They’d descend like… like locusts.

 

Restless, a bit afraid, and definitely at loose ends, Corey briefly thought about going to noon Mass, just to kill some time. He quickly put that thought aside. When he visited his family, Mass was de rigueur. Otherwise, he tended to avoid going to church except on holidays. All things considered, he didn’t feel comfortable there, even though none of the parishioners had a clue he was gay.

 

He couldn’t fill the time cooking, as he wasn’t hungry. Renny had fixed a big breakfast for them. He wasn’t in the mood to go to a movie either. So what to do to kill time? Mondays were no problem as far as keeping busy, because that was when he did his laundry, cleaned the apartment, and went grocery shopping.

 

Groceries. I’m in desperate need of them. It’s not written in stone that I have to shop tomorrow. Going into the kitchen, he made a list of what he had to buy, then drove to the chain grocery store ten blocks from his place.

 

You Belong to Me - 10

 

 

Since Corey was now back on his regular schedule at the shelter, with Sunday and Monday off, he decided to go to a club Saturday night. After dressing in tight-fitting jeans and his favorite T-shirt, he checked himself out in the mirror. If the family could see me now, they’d think I went off the deep end.

 

With that done, he gathered up what he needed to take with him, put on his jacket and gloves, and headed out. Ten minutes later he was parking in the lot beside The Scene, the same club where he’d run into Brad a few days earlier. The place was really hopping, the bar standing room only, and on the dance floor there was barely room to move.

 

Managing to squeeze between two men at the end of the bar, Corey flagged down the bartender and ordered a beer. When he had it in hand, he wove his way to a spot along the wall where he could watch the dancers. “Or at least their heads,” Corey grumbled, since there were a hell of a lot of men between him and them.

 

“Some pretty cute heads though.”

 

Corey turned to see who had said that and smiled. “For sure, Renny, for sure.”

 

“It’s been a while. I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen off the edge of the world,” Renny said, slinging one arm over Corey’s shoulders.

 

“I was here a couple of days ago,” he protested.

 

Renny chuckled. “And I wasn’t. My loss. Want to see if we can shove our way onto the dance floor?”

 

“Sure. Let me finish this first.” Corey held up his bottle of beer.

 

Seconds later Renny snatched it from him and handed it to a guy walking by them. The guy looked at him in surprise, took it, and kept on going. “There, it’s finished,” Renny said with a grin before putting his hands on Corey’s hips to steer him into the dancing throng.

 

“Bossy,” Corey grouched, but he smiled when he said it. He knew that was Renny’s way of dealing with impediments to what he wanted.

 

They danced, or more accurately, moved in time to the music, bodies pressed together with their arms around each other’s waists. It didn’t take long for Renny to suggest they take the dancing to a more comfortable, and more horizontal, venue. To wit, the bed in Renny’s apartment. Feeling a bit like a slut, since he’d been with Brad so recently, Corey considered saying no. His body, however, was giving a much different message, which Renny had obviously picked up on. Not all that reluctantly, Corey agreed to the plan.

You Belong to Me – 9

 

 

With the holiday season over, Corey’s life settled back into its normal routine, more or less. The temperatures dropped significantly, so the shelter was filled to capacity day and night, and he spent more time there than he did at home. When he did return to his apartment, he collapsed into bed for a few hours and then showered, put on clean clothes, and went back to work.

 

Three days after the cold snap, the weather improved enough to allow Corey to work his regular shift again. When he got home that evening, the first thing he spotted was the pile of unopened mail from the last few days that he’d tossed on his desk to look at when he had time. “Bills and more bills,” he grumbled as he began going through it. There were other things, too, including a couple of what he presumed were late Christmas cards. The first was a comic one from an old college friend. Corey chuckled at the message and put it aside.

 

His address on the second one was typed, with no return address and a very blurred postmark. He opened the envelope, expecting to find it was from some company he did business with.

 

It wasn’t. The front of the card showed two hands, fingers touching to form a heart with “Merry Christmas” under them. From the look of it, the sender had designed the card himself, probably with a photo-manipulation program. Inside, typed, was a message: I’m hurt. You haven’t been wearing my gift.

 

That was all. No signature. Nothing to indicate who had sent the card.

 

My secret Santa, as Archie put it? He could only presume that was the case and the sender was referring to the watch. Creepy. He shivered, crumpled the card, and tossed it into the wastebasket. I should get rid of the watch too. Donate it to… some charity that could sell it and use the profits to support their efforts. Not to the shelter, though. Mr. Zimmer would wonder why I was getting rid of it and, knowing him, make a big issue of it.

 

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered. He figured it had to be someone he’d met at one of the clubs. But why approach me this way? Why not just come out and say he’s interested in me? “Games, and not ones I like.”

 

He was tempted to call Kerry to get his opinion about the gift and the card. As a cop, even though in a different city, he might have some suggestions on what to do.

 

Like tell me to go to the police, and what would that accomplish? There’s nothing overtly threatening in this. I don’t think I can get a restraining order against a person or persons unknown. He chuckled dryly. Nope, not happening, so I’ll forget it for now and hope this is the last I hear from them.

 

 

You Belong to Me – 8

 

 

Corey finally got off work around nine thirty that night. He’d put in over twelve hours because one of the other men had called in sick at the last minute. When he got home, he took the watch in its box from his jacket pocket and set it down on his dresser. “Who are you? And more to the point, why me?” He examined the box, hoping he’d missed something, like a note from the sender. He hadn’t. Nor was there any kind of inscription on the back of the watch.

 

Shades of Play Misty for Me or some such. He smiled sourly as he shoved the watch into the back of one of the dresser drawers. Damn, I hope I haven’t got a stalker like in that movie. Whoever she is—or he, because I have no clue—this had better be the beginning and the end of it.

 

With that thought in mind, Corey changed out of his work clothes into jeans and a sweatshirt before going into the kitchen to make something for supper. A fast check of the refrigerator and the cupboards told him it was time to go grocery shopping if he wanted to eat at home. Since he was hungry now, he put on his jacket, grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser where he’d left them, and headed out to a nearby restaurant.

 

An hour later, well fed and feeling restless, he decided—even though it was a work night—to stop at one of the clubs he sometimes frequented. When he walked in, he saw, as always, a mix of couples and singles. After finding a seat at the bar, he ordered a beer, then watched the people on the dance floor. He recognized several of them, some fondly, others not so much so. One of the former turned, obviously checking who was at the bar, and waved when he saw Corey. A moment later he came over and took the vacant stool next to him.

 

“It’s been a while,” Brad said after ordering a beer.

 

Corey nodded. “I went home for Christmas.”

 

Brad smiled sardonically. “Ah, the joys of family.”

 

Chuckling, Corey replied, “It wasn’t all that bad. Good food, presents, all the normal festivities.”

 

“Bet you didn’t tell them, though.” Brad was one of the few people who knew enough about Corey to be able to say that.

 

“Nope. Someday… maybe.”

 

“When you’re old and gray.”

 

Corey laughed. “Tottering around in my walker, telling my brothers as they languish in nursing homes.”

 

“Probably better then, or not at all.” Brad had reason to say that. He’d been kicked out and disowned when his parents had found out he was gay. Luckily, his older sister had no longer lived at home and she’d taken him in. Otherwise he might well have ended up at a shelter like the one where Corey worked.

 

          They talked for a while, danced a bit after that, and by the end of the evening, decided to go home together. They’d done that a few times since they’d first met, so it wasn’t, to Corey’s way of thinking at least, too surprising when Brad suggested it. They ended up at Corey’s place, enjoyed a good bout of sex with no strings attached, and then Brad left.

You Belong to Me – 7

 

 

The rest of Corey's shift went as always. He helped some of the men in their search for a job or a cheap apartment, and supervised cleaning the dorm rooms—a chore the men were required to do if they wanted to return again. At one point he broke up a fight between two teens before sitting down with the pair to find out what had happened.

 

“He stole something out of my backpack,” the older one said.

 

“Did not,” the younger one protested. “You left it on the table in the rec room. I was just going to return it to you.”

 

“Bullshit! You were putting it in your pack. I saw you.”

 

“Just ’til I could give it back.”

 

“What is this priceless treasure?” Corey asked. He figured it was probably gloves or some such, given the cold weather. He was surprised when the older boy dug a dog-eared book out of his pack. “Okay. That is a prize worth keeping.”

 

“Yeah, and it’s mine.” The older boy glared at the younger one. Then, inexplicably, his gaze softened. “When I’m done with it, if I see you around, I’ll lend it to you. Until then, hands off.”

 

“Thanks,” the younger kid muttered. “Is it good?”

 

When Corey left them, they were discussing the book and others they’d read.

 

Maybe I should write a book: A Day in the Life…. He smiled in amusement. Naw, Phil can do a movie script. Hell, as good as he is, he might even be able to sell it and get Daniel Radcliffe to play me. As if. He chuckled.

 

“What’s got you so happy?” Archie asked, coming up beside him. “Figure out who your secret Santa is?”

 

That sobered Corey immediately. “Nope. No clue.”

 

“Well, I’m sure she’ll let you know soon enough. She’s just teasing to up your anticipation level.”

 

“Then she doesn’t know me well. It just pissed me off.”

 

Archie waggled his eyebrows. “But she wants to. Know you well, that is.”

 

Corey shrugged before continuing on his way to the shelter’s admitting room. “Won’t happen if she doesn’t reveal herself.”

 

Won’t happen even if she does. But that’s none of Archie’s business.

 

You Belong to Me – 6

 

 

“Corey, someone dropped this off for you,” Mr. Zimmer, the manager of the shelter, said when Corey came in to work New Year’s Day. He handed Corey a small, gaily wrapped Christmas package with his name printed on the tag.

 

“A gift from your secret Santa?” Archie, one of the other men who worked at the shelter, asked with a grin. “Is she blonde and beautiful?”

 

Corey chuckled. “If she’s secret, how would I know?” He balanced it in his hands, wondering who had left it. And why here and not at my place?

 

“Well, are you going to open it?” Silas, a part-time employee, asked, watching Corey in anticipation.

 

Instead of replying, Corey asked Mr. Zimmer if he’d seen the person who left the package.

 

“No. It was on the front counter when I got here this morning. I figured I’d better put it somewhere safe until you showed up.”

 

“Very strange.” Corey hesitated, hoping whatever was inside was innocuous enough it wouldn’t give the men standing around any ideas. Biting the bullet, he tore off the wrappings to reveal a jeweler’s box. He opened it, and found it contained a simple, black-faced watch with gold hands and a gold-and-silver band.

 

“Nice,” Archie commented. “Very you. Who’s it from?”

 

“I have no clue,” Corey replied. Whoever it was, he knew they must have money to burn. The day after he’d returned from his Christmas vacation, he’d seen the same watch in one of the high-end jewelry stores at an upscale mall, and he’d immediately lusted after it. But at over a thousand dollars, he could never have afforded it. Now someone had fulfilled his wish. But who? Who knew I wanted this? I never told anyone. He quickly closed the box.

 

“Aren’t you going to wear it?” Mr. Zimmer asked in surprise.

 

“Maybe on a special occasion,” Corey said quickly. “Around here I’ll stick with my very utilitarian one.”

 

“Probably a wise idea,” Mr. Zimmer agreed. “No sense tempting anyone to ‘borrow’ it.”

 

‘Borrow’ was his euphemism for the occasional thefts that happened at the shelter.

 

Corey nodded, shoving the box into his jacket pocket. A few moments later he hung the jacket in his locker, snapped the padlock closed, and then got down to work. But he couldn’t stop wondering who had given him the watch, and why he—or she—hadn’t put their name on the gift card.

 

You Belong to Me - 5

 

 

A week after Christmas, Corey was back home, his visit with his family now only a happy memory. Despite the fact he'd grumbled to himself about it, he had enjoyed the time spent with his parents and brothers. Still, if asked, he’d have to admit he was glad it was just once a year. One-on-one is fine. The whole lot together can be too overpowering. Yeah, I’ll stick to it’s being just at Christmas.

 

Then he realized they’d all be together again in a month when he had to attend Phil’s wedding. “God help me,” he muttered as he unpacked from his trip. “I’m happy for him, but…damn.”

 

Now he was back to his real life, or would be in the morning. At the moment he had nothing more exciting planned than getting into comfortable clothes and going out to find something to eat.

 

As he put on a pair of old jeans and a fisherman’s sweater, he grinned. If Phil could see me now. I’m sure he thinks I’m always dressed in slacks and good shirts… and ties.

 

The only reason Corey had worn the tie on Christmas Eve was because the family was going to midnight Mass and he didn’t feel like returning to the motel to change clothes for that. Christmas Day he’d foregone the tie, but had to admit that otherwise he had still been overdressed compared to the rest of them. But that’s just me when I’m around them. It’s my defense so that they can’t see the real me.

 

“Not that there’s anything wrong with the real me, but somehow I don’t think they’d agree. At least Mom and Dad wouldn’t,” he told his image in the mirror as he combed his hair. “They may consider themselves fairly liberal, but when it comes to family, they expect us to be ‘normal’ in every sense of the word.”

 

That was the reason he had the reputation as the playboy of the family. He claimed he dated a variety of girls, never more than once or twice each. He’d describe the dates and what they did on them in his weekly e-mails to his mother. He had done that ever since going away to college. It kept his parents off his back and—he knew—amused his brothers.

 

The truth was, he had been in relationships. Twice. Once had been with a very nice man, one who had finally given up on Corey because he wouldn’t come out of the closet. Corey had learned his lesson from that and avoided any involvements for a while. Then he met a man who was as closeted as he was. They had hit it off and managed to make things work until they both realized the only reason they were together was because they weren’t ready to let the world know they were gay.

 

“Hardly the best basis for a relationship,” Mike said when they mutually decided to break up.

 

Corey agreed. Since then he’d stopped looking. He’d had offers, when he’d had time to go to a club or a bar. But none of the men really appealed to him on more than a transitory basis.

 

He shuddered as he put on his winter jacket, envisioning one of his brothers—or, God forbid, his parents—deciding to drop in for a surprise visit. Not that that had ever happened. He made it quite clear to all of them that the demands of his job meant he was rarely free on a moment’s notice to entertain them. So far they had honored that. The one time his folks had come to town, they had given him plenty of warning. Their time together had been fun. Still, Corey had kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for some man he’d met at a club to appear and say something that would blow everything out of the water.

 

“Yeah, the single life is for the best,” he said under his breath as he walked down the snowy street to a restaurant he favored.

 

You Belong to Me – 4

 

 

“You’ve been grumbling?” Phil said, dropping into the chair beside the sofa. “Never. You’re the definition of the bluebird of happiness.”

 

Corey rolled his eyes. “I suspect that would be you.”

 

“Yeah, now that I think about it, it would be. Let’s see, Kerry’s the eagle because he’s a hunter, and you”—Phil tapped his chin pensively—“you’re an owl?”

 

“Wise and logical?”

 

“Debatable on the wise, but yeah, you’ve always approached everything logically, and you’re a perfectionist.”

 

“Is that a bad thing?”

 

“Not at all, little brother. Not at all. That said, Mom told me to let you all know dinner is almost ready, so….”

 

“We should help her get it on the table,” Corey replied.

 

“Yep, and then feast to our heart’s content on barbecue.”

 

“One family tradition I really love,” Kerry said, getting up. “How much did Dad order this time?”

 

Phil laughed. “With my help, enough to feed an advancing army.”

 

“Oh boy, you’ll have to roll me home.”

 

“Nope,” Jena said, grinning, “I’ll make you walk home, pacing you with the car.”

 

“She would too,” Kerry grumbled. Pulling her to her feet, he hugged her, then with his hands on her shoulders, he steered her into the dining room.

 

Corey watched their interplay wistfully for a moment. Maybe, someday….

You Belong to Me - 3

 

 

By the time Christmas evening rolled around, Corey had had enough of family—at least all the family in one place at one time. He rested his head on the back of the sofa, eyes closed, listening to the babble of voices around him.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

Corey nodded, smiling slightly at Kerry when he sat down beside him. “Just feeling overwhelmed. Everyone talking at the same time.”

 

Kerry chuckled. “It’s always been like that, even when we were kids. Why’s it getting to you now?”

 

“I don’t know.” He looked around the room. Cathy and Jena were talking about Cathy’s upcoming wedding. Phil was explaining to Tom how the new electronic “toy” he’d given him for Christmas worked. Linda was bustling around, picking up stray bits of wrapping paper and empty cups and glasses, which she took to the kitchen. “I guess I was hoping to get away from constant noise and chatter for a couple of days. I should have known better, right?”

 

“With this family, you bet. Is what you do that bad?”

 

“Not really,” Corey admitted. “I love the job, and I think I’m pretty good at helping the men when they need it. But it can be stressful, especially with the teens. When I think of why they’re there…. Okay, I’m not going into that rant. I should consider myself lucky I have a family to spend the holidays with. I do, actually.”

 

“You two look awfully serious,” Jena said, settling down next to Kerry. “Discussing the fate of the world?”

 

Kerry snorted. “What’s to discuss? It’s doomed.”

 

“Cynic.”

 

“Realist.” He laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have given up hope long ago.”

 

“Uh-huh.” She looked across him at Corey. “You have a pair of weird brothers. You know that, don’t you?”

 

Corey grinned. “The weirdest, but I still love them.”

 

“Well, you should, since you’re stuck with us,” Kerry told him.

 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, despite my grumbling to the contrary.”

 

You Belong to Me - 2

 

 

Corey listened to Phil rattle on with a bit of amusement, tempered by relief that Kerry had stepped in when he did. I really didn’t intend to get upset, but sometimes Phil seems to know just the right button to push. Conquests, indeed.

 

It had always been that way with the brothers.

 

Phil was a free spirit who seemed to enjoy teasing his youngest, more uptight brother. And like an idiot, I react. Outgoing and gregarious, the life of any party, even a family one, Phil expected everyone to listen when he talked. Not in an “I’m the best, so…” sort of way. More like he figured whatever he was talking about would entertain everyone within earshot—and it usually did.

 

Phil and Cathy had started seeing each other after a private screening of one of his films, just over a year ago. She’d been sent as a reviewer, interviewing him in the process, and they both agreed it had been love at first sight. He’d brought her home to meet the family last Christmas. Then, to no one’s surprise, he’d proposed to her six months later.

 

Kerry tended to be the peacemaker and had decided to put that to good use by joining the police force. He’d met Jena soon after he’d made detective, and they’d been together ever since.

 

That makes me the odd man out. No— He smiled wryly to himself. —no girlfriend, no desire to have one. Hell, what with working practically 24-7, when would I have time for anything more than a casual hookup now and then?

 

Corey had majored in social work. Now he worked at a homeless shelter, supervising and assisting the men—teens and adults—who came looking for a meal and a place to sleep for the night. It really was a full-time and often stressful job. The last thing he needed, in his opinion, was to have to deal with someone who wanted to commandeer what free time he had.

 

“Supper is ready,” Linda announced as she and the younger women came into the dining room bearing bowls and plates laden with food. Tom opened a bottle of wine and filled everyone’s glasses, and then the Christmas Eve festivities were in full swing.

 

You Belong to Me - 1

 

Kerry leaned back, studying his brothers. It had been a year since the whole family had been together—last Christmas, in fact.

 

Phil, being Phil, was dressed casually—to put it mildly—in a plaid flannel shirt and old jeans. His dark hair was desperately in need of cutting and his beard, while short, looked ragged. Of course, since he and his fiancée, Cathy, had just arrived twenty minutes earlier from the west coast, where Phil worked as a screenwriter, Kerry wasn’t too surprised that his brother wasn’t dressed to the nines—But the hair and the beard….

 

Shaking his head, Kerry turned his attention to his younger brother. Corey was Phil’s polar opposite. His brown hair was stylishly short. He was clean-shaven, wearing well-pressed slacks, a blue button-down shirt under a gray V-necked sweater, and even a tie.

 

He always was the most conservative of us. Still the tie is a bit of overkill, even if we’re going to Mass later.

 

Kerry glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the credenza. He was wearing nice jeans and a red turtleneck in honor of the season. He smiled as he looked at his girlfriend, Jena, in her black slacks and red blouse. She was in the kitchen with Cathy and his mother, Linda. Whatever the topic of conversation, the three women were deeply engrossed in it.

 

“Comparing recipes?” Kerry’s father, Tom, said with a grin, joining his sons at the dining room table.

 

“Or clothes, or men, or whatever women talk about when their guys are out of earshot,” Phil replied, laughing. He turned to Corey. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring your latest conquest with you.”

 

Corey smiled tightly. “At the moment I’m between ‘conquests,’ as you put it. Besides which, this is supposed to be a family celebration.”

 

Phil arched an eyebrow. “Cathy’s almost family. One more month and counting. And from what Mom said in one of her e-mails, Kerry and Jena are living together now, so she belongs here too.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound pissy,” Corey muttered.

 

Phil clapped him on the back. “It’s okay. That’s just your way.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Hoping to defuse the situation, Kerry immediately asked Phil, “What’s your newest project?”

 

He got more than he bargained for in reply when Phil gave them a blow-by-blow description of a film script he had been contracted to write by one of the major studios.

 

'Targeted' is out!

Targeted

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/targeted-p-4047.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09KKN25XC

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/targeted-edward-kendrick/1140394425?ean=9781646569205

 

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/targeted-35

 

GENRE: Gay Mystery Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 43,729 words
RATING:

Eddie is on the run after one too many 'accidents' that could have proven deadly. He has no idea who is causing them, or why, or how his adversary finds him again and again. After two years, he ends up in Denver, and decides that with yet another new identity, it might be safe to settle down, so he rents an apartment.

That leads to his meeting Jules -- who owns a gay club and lives down the hall -- as well as his friends. He soon finds out that Jules is not choosy about who he has sex with, but that he also cares about his friends. When Eddie opens up to him about being on the run, and why, Jules wants to help him. At the same time they start what Eddie is certain will be a casual sexual relationship, at least as far as Jules is concerned.

Between them, will they be able to learn who is after Eddie, with the help of Jules' friends, and stop him? As they try, Eddie must also deal with his growing interest in Jules, who, he is certain, will never be willing to settle for having only one man in his life.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

"It must be nice to have such good friends." Eddie sighed wistfully.

"You don't, or didn't where you used to live?" Jules asked with some surprise.

"No, at least not recently. I move around too much these days. Acquaintances, sure, but I wouldn't classify them as more than that."

Jules shot him an inquisitive look before suggesting they continue their conversation in his office.

They went up to the second floor. A hallway ran the length of the house with several doors on each side. At one end was another flight of stairs which took them up to what Eddie had properly surmised had once been a small attic.

It contained Jules' office and after Eddie took a seat on the sofa, Jules sat at the other end, studying Eddie. "My first question I suppose, since it's why you came with me tonight, is what sort of job would you prefer if you had your choice?" He pointed a finger at Eddie. "Be honest."

Eddie debated whether he should be, and decided he had nothing to lose. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs and tells me to get real?

"I need something that pays at least minimum wage, and most importantly does it under the table."

"I see." Jules tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. "All right, given that, and the fact you said you've been on the move, I surmise you're on the run. From the law, or a disenchanted ex, or some crook because you broke from his gang or saw something he wishes you hadn't?"

Eddie blew out a breath. "I wish I knew. Whoever it is has tried to kill me, several times. Not by shooting or trying to stab me or cut my throat, or anything else so direct. Everything he's tried, I'm presuming it's a man though I can't say for sure, anyway, everything he's tried was supposed to look like an accidental death." He didn't know why he trusted Jules enough to tell him, but he did, elaborating on everything that had happened.

"Damnation," Jules exclaimed a while later when Eddie had finished. "It's a wonder you're still around to talk about it."

"No shit! Dumb luck, I suppose, and the fact that for whatever reasons my adversary or harasser, as I think of him, doesn't want it to look like a murder. Perhaps he's afraid the police would figure out he did it; perhaps he doesn't want the 'publicity' my death could cause, hell, who knows. Not me for sure."

"All right, that makes some sort of sense. I presume at this point you are not 'you' anymore."

"Nope. I'm on my third or fourth incarnation, hell, I've lost count. Fourth, I think, with the ID to prove it this time."

"So you could use that to get a job."

"I'd rather not. If it were me looking for me, one of the first things I'd check would be tax records since I'd know what sort of work I usually did. You should know an employer has to file W4s and what have you when they hire someone."

"Too true, and W2s for income tax purposes at the end of the year. Thankfully I have an accountant to handle those. But that's neither here nor there. If you are essentially living off the grid, although not totally since you do rent somewhere to live, like the apartment you've got now, how is he finding you?"

"I don't know. So far, until I came here, I've always lived in places that don't require a credit card for payment or the number to keep on file in case I decide to run out on the rent."

"Then why change that now?"

Eddie shrugged. "New ID, for starters, which made me feel it would be safe. Besides, I'm tired of living in dumps, which most of them were other than the house in the mountains I told you about. I'd still be there if ..." He shook his head. "Anyway, I want to feel like part of the human race for as long as I can, before the bastard finds me again."

Jules moved over to put an arm around Eddie. "I wouldn't wish your life on anyone."

"Me, neither," Eddie replied dryly, liking his concern as well as the physical contact.

"If there were any way I could help, I would," Jules murmured, rubbing Eddie's thigh as if to emphasize his words.

"You already have. You've let me get it all out, which I haven't until now." He put his hand over Jules' to stop what he was doing. It was too sensual, whether Jules realized it or not, although Eddie had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Sharing a problem halves it, or so they say." Jules smiled, easing his hand from under Eddie's, which would have been fine if he hadn't moved it higher, sliding his fingers between Eddie's legs, stroking slowly.

Eddie sucked in a breath, trying to control his natural reaction to what was happening. "Are you trying ...?" He couldn't finish his question, uncertain how he would react no matter what Jules replied.

"To give you something else to think about? You bet." Jules moved his hand again, this time to cover Eddie's growing erection. "Is it working?"

"You have to ask?" Eddie looked at Jules crotch and saw he wasn't the only one affected by Jules' actions. "If we were anywhere but here I think I'd take you up on what you're offering."

"What's wrong with here?" Jules asked, standing suddenly. He strode over to the office door, locked it and came back to kneel in front of Eddie. "We're alone, we're horny, let's do something about it." He flipped open the fastening on Eddie's slacks, then pulled the zipper down. "Lift up a second." Eddie did and Jules eased his slacks and briefs down enough that his swollen cock sprang free. "Nice, very nice." He gripped it, pumping slowly.

 

 

The Artist and the Actor – 48

 

 

The following morning, as they were eating breakfast, Colin said, "I have a proposition for you."

 

Shane waggled his eyebrows. "The answer's 'yes'. I don't have to be at the theater until five."

 

"That's great, but I wasn't going to suggest we go back to bed. At least not this very moment." Colin paused to take a bite of his pancakes.

 

"You're going to leave me hanging until you finish eating?"

 

"Now that you mention it." Colin grinned before turning serious again. "You're going to need somewhere to stay other than the hotel, since you're sticking around."

 

Shane had the distinct feeling he knew where Colin was going with that, but decided to play it safe, just in case. "I know. Hopefully I can find a decent apartment that isn't halfway across town, and a cheap car. Taxi fares will break me."

 

"I'm sure the car won't be a problem. Check Craigslist for starters. As for an apartment…" Colin tapped his lip pensively. "I happen to know of someone who might be looking for a roommate, or more specifically, a housemate."

 

"Might be?" Shane asked, playing along now.

 

"Yes, if it's the right person. He's looking for a soon to be out-of-work actor, although he's certain the man won't have any problem finding a job with one of the local theaters, as good as he is."

 

"Well, damn. I know just the guy. He has a thing about artists, specifically one artist, and wouldn't mind at all sharing a house with him."

 

Colin grinned broadly. "So if I asked the actor to move in, he'd accept?"

 

"In a heartbeat," Shane replied adamantly. "Name the day."

 

"The sooner the better. How about this afternoon?"

 

"I think that can be arranged."

 

It was, with no problem, as all Shane had with him was, as he put it, "The clothes on my back and a few personal items." He did admit to having an apartment in a city several hundred miles from Denver. "But I sublet it, since I knew I'd be on the road for an extended period of time. There's not much there I want, other than my books and the rest of my clothes. I'm sure the woman will be happy to pack them up and send them out in exchange for my signing the lease over to her."

 

She was, and a week later several boxes were delivered to the house—after Shane had called his landlord about what he wanted, and then signed a contract the man emailed him.

 

As he unpacked his books and set them on one of the bookshelves in the living room, Colin came down from the studio. He smiled when he heard Shane humming. Something from a musical, he suspected, as he didn't recognize the song.

 

"You sound happy," Colin said.

 

"I am," Shane replied, stopping what he was doing to come over to him. "I have everything I dreamed about from the day we met." Putting his arms around Colin, he said, "This time it's going to work."

 

Colin nodded, replying softly. "It will. Nothing in life is more important than being there for the person you love. The one who loves you in return. We know that, now."

 

"And we'll never forget it." They kissed, tenderly, and then Shane returned to what he was doing—with Colin's willing assistance.

The End