Hunted – 22

As Logan led the way through the trees, apparently looking for the perfect spot for their talk, Brice felt nervous. It was not a feeling he enjoyed in the least—or normally experienced.

Eventually Logan stopped. They were in a small clearing with trees towering above them. “What was your childhood like?” Logan asked, quite out of the blue as far as Brice was concerned.

“Like anyone else’s I suspect—two parents, brother and sister, nice house in a small town. It was nothing spectacular. Why?”

Logan put one foot against a tree trunk and leaned back as he studied Brice. “Describe your parents.”

“My father was…” Brice faltered for a second, a frown on his face. “He was…tall, muscular, had dark hair. He was very strict, I think.”

“You think?”

“Yes. No.” Brice rattled off the information in his official studio bio. “He was a school teacher, just like mom. My brother was the athlete in the family, my sister was a doll and popular. I was the flamboyant one. Had the lead in all the theatrical productions. I left home to seek fame and fortune in the big city, got a job as an extra in a TV show and that was all she wrote as they say.”

“That’s how you remember it?”

“That’s how it was, so yes.”

“Ever go on trips when you were a kid?”

“Sure.”

“Where?”

Brice rubbed his forehead as he tried to remember. “When I was little,” he said haltingly, “we went camping. Yeah, that’s right. Spent all summer in…in some forest. I remember that much but…” He frowned deeply. “It’s weird. I can remember the forest, the trees, the plants, the smell of it, the feeling of freedom, but…but like a dream, not reality, or not like it should be. It was too…too wild if that makes sense.”

“Describe the town where you lived, the way you remember it.”

“Which one?” Brice asked then shook his head as if that wasn’t right.

“There was more than one?”

“No! No. It was a small town, I told you that. Typical like out of a movie. You know, cute houses, picket fences, one main street down the center.” He shrugged.

“Where was it?”

“In Iowa.”

“There’s forests in Iowa? I thought that was corn country.”

“Maybe it was…” Brice looked puzzled. “It says Iowa in my bio damn it, so that’s where it was.”

“The same way it says your parents were school teachers.”

Hunted – 21

Brice paced the kitchen, stopped finally and looked at Logan. “You keep implying that I’m hiding more than my sexuality from people.”

Logan nodded. “You are, although I don’t think you realize it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked didn’t I?” Brice replied.

Logan hesitated. “We can’t talk about it here.”

“Why not? What going on with you?”

“It’s more a question of what’s going on with you, and I don’t know quite how to answer that so that you’ll understand what I’m saying and accept it. But to even try, we have to be somewhere away from here and private.”

Brice’s eyebrows shot up. Then he grinned. “Is this some sort of sideways come on?”

“Hell no!” Logan growled.

“Okay, sorry,” Brice held his hands up defensively. “It was an obvious question, all things considered. But now you really have piqued my interest. Where do you want to have this talk?”

“Are you free now or do you have somewhere else to be?”

“Logan, at this point in my life, unfortunately, I have absolutely no commitments. So let’s do this now and get it over with.”

“All right. I…we need something like a large wooded park. I don’t know the city well enough to suggest one that would work.”

“How large?” Brice asked as he took out his phone. He brought up a map site and showed Logan the choices that weren’t way outside of the city proper. Finally they agreed on one called Pioneer Woods which was about a half-hour drive from the house.

“I still don’t get why this?” Brice said as they headed to the front door.

“You’ll see.” Logan glanced into the living room and saw only Skye. “Are the guys..?”

“They’re up in Kief’s room, hopefully talking things through.” She shot a look at Brice. “I’d be pissed at you, except I think in the long run you showing up here might turn out to be a good thing for them.”

He smiled slightly in return. “I hope. Noah’s a good man and Kief’s lucky to have him.”

“And vise versa,” Skye replied rather tartly. She turned to Logan and said, with a nod towards Brice, “You’re not, well you know...?”

Logan chuckled. “Nope, just heading to a bar for a couple of beers. He offered to drop me off.”

“Quick thinking,” Brice said a moment later when they were out of earshot.

“Practice,” Logan replied and left it at that for the moment.

Out today - 'Tate's Quandry' A C21 Story

Tate's Quandry - A C21 Story

http://www.jms-books.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=82_187&products_id=1596

What's a C21 operative to do when his partner is kidnapped by Barone, the man who runs a prostitution ring Tate and Gwen are trying to shut down? In Tate Butler's case, he unwillingly hooks up with Van Layton, an FBI agent and his ex-lover, to find Gwen, the daughter of Tate's handler. First, they need to locate where Barone has her hidden. Barone is also, according to Van, a drug dealer Van plans on putting out of business.

Can Tate and Van put aside their splintered past to find Gwen and stop Barone? Or will working together only destroy the last vestiges of what they once felt for each other?

EXCERPT:

It was midafternoon when Tate squatted down beside an old man leaning against the concrete wall. After getting a few hours’ sleep, only because he knew if he didn’t he’d be worthless for what he had to do, Tate had begun approaching homeless people, showing them photos, asking them if they had seen Barone or Gwen -- as well as Hicks, even though he was dead. If Hicks had been spotted anywhere in the slum areas around downtown, it could be because he was visiting somewhere Barone used as a hideaway. There was a fourth photo as well, of a woman who had promised to help him and Gwen, and then disappeared.

The man looked at him askance, as if fearing Tate was going to lecture him about getting off the streets. Or start preaching to him, even though Tate was dressed in a pair of older jeans, and a blue work shirt covered by a lightweight jacket.

Smiling, to ease the man’s wariness, Tate said, “I could use your help, if you’re willing. Umm, Mr. ...?”

“Say what? Help? Man, I ain’t got nothing I can afford to share. And the name’s Connor. Mr. Connor.” He smiled, revealing toothless gums. “What’s yours?”

“Tate. And not that kind of help, Mr. Connor. I’m looking for someone.”

“Like a runaway kid? Uh-uh, I don’t help anyone trying to grab them back, if you get my drift.”

“Not a kid.” Tate took four pictures from his jacket pocket, handing two of them to the man. “Have you seen either of these women around here recently?”

Mr. Connor looked at the pictures, then at Tate, and back to the pictures. “Not family. They don’t look like you. Your wife run out on you, Tate?” He tapped Gwen’s photo.

“No. I’m not married. She’s someone I work with and she went missing late last night. We were trying to help the other girl.” Not quite the truth, but it would suffice for now.

“Ain’t seen either of them.”

“How about these guys?” Tate handed him photos of Barone and Hicks.

After studying them for a long moment, Mr. Connor tapped Hicks’ picture. “Seen him around on and off. Not in this area. More like down ... shit ... other side of downtown if I remember rightly. They got something to do with your missing women?”

“They might.” Tate put the pictures back in his pocket and took out a couple of bills, handing them to the man. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Connor.” He got up, intending to quiz a few more men who were sitting or lying against the buildings farther down the street.

“Hey,” Mr. Connor called out when Tate was a few yards away. Tate went back and the man said, “You should look for a guy calls himself Lay. He travels around the city a lot. He might have seen those dudes, or your ladies. Don’t recall Lay’s last name, if he has one, but all of us who live on the streets know who he is.”

“Is he a social worker?”

Mr. Connor snorted. “Naw. He’s down-and-out like the rest of us, only he ain’t staked his claim in one area of the city.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Skinny, but then most of us who’re legit are. Maybe your height, your age. Hair’s too long and he needs a shave.” The old man rubbed his hand over his own beard. “Not as bad as me though.” He smirked.

“Thanks. I’ll keep an eye open for him.”

* * * *

Lay watched the store across the street from his perch on a wall between two old houses in a rundown neighborhood of the city, a few blocks from one of the homeless teen drop-in spots. It was around five in the evening and he was thinking about heading back downtown to panhandle, since sitting here was getting him nowhere at the moment.

Hopping off the wall, he started down the sidewalk when he saw a couple of men he knew from his wanderings through the area. Do I want company, or not?

One of them, Jon, was pushing an overflowing grocery cart. His friend, Pat, had a large, very battered, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Hey, Lay,” Jon called out. “We got a bottle, if you want to share.”

“Thanks, but not right now. I got places to go and things to do.”

“Downtown?” Pat asked.

“Yeah.”

“Be careful. There’s some guy been asking about you.”

Lay frowned. “Cop?”

“Naw, I don’t think so. He told Jamie that old Connor said you might be able to help him with something.”

“Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. Any idea what he looks like?”

“Nope,” Jon replied. “‘Cept Jamie said he’s young, about your age, and his name is ... Tate. Yeah, that’s it. Tate.” He shrugged.

No fucking way. What the hell is he doing here? Lay forced himself to chuckle, saying, “That could be half the guys downtown over the age of consent,”-- despite his dismay at knowing Tate was around here -- and looking for him. But he can’t know ‘Lay’ is me. Can he?

Hunted – 20

“When that happens,” Brice said to Logan, echoing Noah's explanation, “I call Noah. He’s a trained Dom who knows how to help me…unwind.”

Logan snorted. “You’re trying to tell me that a macho man like you is willing to submit to someone like Noah? And on top of that there’s no sex involved. As if.”

“It’s the truth, whether you believe it or not.”

“Well maybe Kief will believe that crock of shit, he’s in love with Noah, but I’m not so stupid. You are something else, Mr. Davies. You’ve got that we’re innocent of anything look down pat. But then you would, wouldn’t you, since you’re an actor.”

“Damn it,” Brice growled, “that’s the way it is between us. Yeah we keep it secret. Hell I keep my…the fact that I’m gay, secret. I’d be out of a job like that,” he snapped his fingers, “if it came out, especially considering the role I play on the show.”

“That’s not all you’re keeping secret,” Logan muttered under his breath.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

* * * *

“I promise you nothing physical happens between us,” Noah said quietly. “He likes, well he needs to submit, to be tied up, to be punished. But the only---sex I suppose you could call it, that’s involved is when I tell him he can come.”

Kief watched him doubtfully at first, but there was something in Noah’s eyes, a sincerity, which began to make him believe Noah’s words were the truth. Finally he said with a tiny trace of amusement, “I never would have pictured you as a Dom. Not even after all the time we’ve been together.”

“Just because I can be doesn’t mean I want to. It’s a job, nothing more. A way to make a bit of extra money.”

That had Kief frowning again. “How many?”

“Two. Only two. Brice and a man who owns one of the larger businesses in the city.” Noah smiled slightly. “No, I’m not telling you who.”

“And you swear that it’s not sexual as far as your involvement is concerned.”

“Well…” Noah essayed a bit of a grin. “It does make me horny, yeah, but then I come home and here you are and…”

Kief scowled. “So I’m your release from your games with them?”

“Hell no! Damn. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” Noah ran a hand through his hair. “Kief, we have a good thing going between us, or I think we do. That’s why I never told you about this.”

“A good thing would have meant some honesty from you,” was Kief’s muttered reply.

“And if I’d told you..?”

“I’d probably have thrown a hissy fit,” Kief admitted reluctantly.

“Exactly.” Noah watched Kief’s face as he asked, “Is this going to mess things up between us, now that you know?”

Kief chewed his lip. “I…”

“Just kiss him, that should tell you,” Skye suggested. “Yes, I’m still here.” She smiled when they both turned in surprise. “So kiss and see.”

Noah nodded, cupped Kief’s face gently, waiting for him to pull away and when he didn’t he kissed him.

Hunted – 19

Logan felt as if he’d walked into World War III when he came through the front door carrying two bags of groceries. Kiel and Noah were shooting dagger glares at each other, while someone he could see only enough of to tell he was male watched.

He took two more steps forward, about to ask what was going on, then stopped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Brice turned with a shrug. “That seems to be the question of the evening. I actually came to see you.”

“Why?” Logan didn’t bother to wait for a reply as he headed to the kitchen.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Brice said to the others and hurried after Logan. He found him putting perishables into the refrigerator. “I seem to have caused a problem, coming here,” he murmured.

“Looks like. What’s that all about?” Logan replied as he finished up and began to put cans and boxes of food onto one of the cupboard shelves.

Brice blew out a long breath. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do actually. Those two are friends of mine, and apparently you’ve managed to do something fuck up their relationship, at least from the look of it.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t know Noah lived here too.”

Logan leaned against the counter to stare at Brice. “So along with everything else you’re gay, and you and Noah..?”

“Everything else?”

“Forget that. Are you fucking Noah? Is he fucking you? And for how long?”

* * * *

“Are you fucking him, or is he fucking you?” Kief asked Noah, torn between pain and rage.

“Neither,” Noah replied as he paced the living room. “Skye, you might want to leave now.”

“Actually, no. As long as you two are fighting I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t kill each other,” she told him as she moved to the window seat and settled down.

Kief ignored the byplay as he said, “What do you mean neither?”

“Okay, this is going to sound weird.” Noah stopped where he was, trying to frame a reply that would make sense. "I’ve known Brice longer than I've known you, Kief. He’s a… He’s not in the closet—he’s had male lovers—but he keeps them very private. The problem is that sometimes he needs the kind of release from the tensions of his life and his job that they can’t or won’t give him.”