Ride the Lightning : Sinister in Savannah Book 1

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  Jonah rolled Avery to his back and showed him.

  Jonah woke long before the sun started to flirt with the slumbering earth. The possibility of Charlie’s betrayal shook him hard, triggering instinctive reactions he’d vowed not to repeat with Avery. During the phone call with Felix and Rocky, their teasing had made it possible for Jonah to table his reaction and hurt. Afterward, sex with Avery distracted him from processing what he’d learned. As usual, delaying the inevitable didn’t really make the situation easier.

  How the fuck could Charlie Malcolm, a man so dedicated to law, order, and justice, be involved in either Earl’s death or the subsequent cover-up? If Jonah had been so wrong about Charlie, was he as equally wrong about Trexler? How much of their antagonism toward each other was genuine? How much was fabricated as part of Malcolm’s smoke and mirrors?

  Jonah’s body tensed with every question that crossed his mind until he thought his spine might snap under the strain. He looked over at the man sleeping soundly beside him in the early dawn light. Avery was lying on his stomach with his head turned in Jonah’s direction. He’d shoved the covers low enough so the dimples above his firm ass cheeks played peekaboo with Jonah, distracting him from destructive thoughts. Jonah’s fingers itched to trail a path over Avery’s backbone, to dip his tongue in those delicious divots, and to count the freckles dotting his nose.

  This firecracker had pushed past his barriers, reaching the fragmented pieces of his heart he’d kept guarded for ten years. Avery had used kindness, sass, and unparalleled patience to solder those fragments together. Jonah relearned how to laugh, to trust, and form friendships again. Avery made him want to take chances and live instead of wallowing in what could’ve been. Most importantly, Avery retaught Jonah how to love.

  Acknowledging he was in love with Avery wasn’t the lightning bolt to the heart Jonah expected. Instead, the awareness washed over him like a warm summer rain. Rather than fight his feelings, he fucking embraced them.

  Avery moaned, jarring Jonah from his thoughts.

  “Good God, Jonah,” Avery said, his voice raspy and adorable from sleep. “If you’re going to freak out and kick me to the curb, can you wait a few more hours? I’m exhausted and need sleep.”

  “Kick you to the curb?” Jonah asked. “Really?”

  Avery’s mouth curved into a smile before he cracked open an eye. “Your hard drive is working overtime this morning. If you’re not careful, you’ll blow a circuit board.”

  “I have no desire to push you away,” Jonah said. To prove his point, Jonah scooted over until they were sharing Avery’s pillow. It was one thing for Avery to have knocked down the walls, but it was entirely another not to always trip over the rubble of Jonah’s past. He trailed his fingers up and down Avery’s back, smiling at the way Avery arched his spine like a cat. “My four friends are dead because I made a big mistake.” Jonah slid his hand into Avery’s hair, loving the way the silky strands slipped through his fingers.

  Avery scooted closer until his hip pressed against Jonah’s semi-erection. “You don’t have to do this now, Jonah.”

  Jonah pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. “I really do.” He brushed the back of his knuckles over Avery’s cheekbones. “War is a terrible thing. You see and hear unspeakable atrocities and do things you never dream yourself capable of. To be brutally honest, I wasn’t cut out for it.”

  Avery made a disbelieving noise.

  “It’s true. A few weeks before the explosion, my unit engaged in a skirmish with Al-Qaeda in the middle of a village. We had bigger numbers and better equipment, so we quickly gained the upper hand. We gave the surviving insurgents the option to surrender, and they did. As we were rounding up the detainees, I came across a young man wearing traditional Muslim clergy attire in one of the homes. He was reading from the Quran and comforting the women and children in the house. I stared into the man’s eyes and only saw fear and a desire to help the family. I backed out of the residence and told Dragon it was clear of enemy combatants. We loaded the detainees into our vehicles and headed back to base. I’d give anything if I could go back to that day and do things differently.”

  “The man wasn’t a clergyman?” Avery asked.

  “He was but also a high-ranking Al-Qaeda member our intelligence officers had nicknamed the Radical Mullah. I would learn later his name was Daud Alakozai and that IEDs were his brainchild. When he was eventually captured, he told interrogators about his near capture in Kamdesh. Alakozai laughed about how he made the stupid US soldier pay by killing as many Americans as possible. My team didn’t die in the Humvee crash. Those animals took them captive and executed them. They saw my mangled face and blood loss and assumed I was dead instead of unconscious. The rest of our unit found me when they came to recover the fallen.”

  “Oh, Jonah,” Avery whispered.

  “When I saw his picture on the news and realized what I’d done…” Jonah took a shaky breath. “Eagle was about to become a father for the first time. Cobra had just gotten engaged. Lion had only been married for eight months.”

  “And Dragon?” Avery asked.

  “He was my boyfriend. We couldn’t tell anyone back then because of DADT, but we had big plans for after we got out of the army. Danny wasn’t my first boyfriend, but he was my first love. Knowing I failed him…”

  Avery held Jonah tighter as tears of regret streamed down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

  Avery just listened as Jonah talked about the debilitating depression that haunted him for years. He didn’t offer platitudes or try to absolve Jonah’s guilt. Jonah had heard it all before from the psychiatrists he sought for help and the family members of his fallen friends. Nothing they said seemed to make a difference, and Jonah finally understood why. Ellen was right. Forgiveness wasn’t something he needed from other people; he needed to liberate himself. The first step was acknowledging that he was worthy of forgiveness. Then he could work on achieving it.

  I am worthy of forgiveness. He’d repeat it as often as he needed.

  “Ellie recognized that I needed a purpose and encouraged me to pursue law enforcement,” Jonah said. “I laughed and reminded her how much I hated guns and she pointed out there is more than one way to catch bad guys. I combined my love of computers with my desire to understand what makes people tick. I started out taking psychology classes to try to heal the broken pieces of my soul, but it took on a whole new life.”

  “Listening to your aunt Ellie has worked out really well for you,” Avery whispered before kissing Jonah’s lips.

  “She has the best ideas.” Jonah pressed his forehead against Avery’s. “Don’t give up on me, okay?”

  “Never.” Avery’s resolute conviction was spoiled by a big yawn at the end. God, he was so fucking adorable.

  “We don’t need to be at Felix’s house until noon. Let’s try to get more sleep.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Avery said, tucking himself under Jonah’s arm and resting his head over Jonah’s heart. “First a nap, then we crusade.”

  Jonah placed his hand on Avery’s waist, anchoring him against his body. While cuddling wasn’t his dick’s favorite pastime, it was quickly becoming Jonah’s. He figured his thoughts were too turbulent to permit sleep, but he sank into Avery’s heat.

  “Are you sure Felix and Rocky won’t mind me tagging along to the podcast recording with you?” Avery asked when they pulled up to Felix’s house.

  “Tagging along? You’re not my annoying little brother,” Jonah teased. “The guys like you, and I really, really like you.”

  A light pink blush bloomed across Avery’s cheeks. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive,” Jonah said, pushing open the door. It seemed like second nature to reach for Avery’s hand when he rounded the hood and joined him.

  Rocky had arrived before them but was still sitting in his car. Jonah noticed he was talking on the phone when they walked by. Judging by Rocky’s stiff posture, his friend wasn’t enjoying th
e conversation. Was the cheating wife case still giving him fits, or was the issue more personal?

  Felix met them at the door when they stepped onto the porch. “Where’s Major?” he asked.

  “Hello to you too,” Jonah teased.

  “Oh, shut up,” Felix said, slapping Jonah on the arm. “I saw him pull into my driveway ten minutes ago. I figured maybe he was avoiding me as long as possible, but here you are and still no Major.”

  “Major?” Avery asked.

  “It’s Rocky’s first name,” Jonah said. He didn’t repeat the rest of the story Rocky shared with them because it wasn’t his to tell.

  “Ah,” Avery said. “I don’t want to be in the way, so I can duck outside while you guys record.”

  “Nah,” Felix replied, waving off his concerns. “I have excellent editing software. I’m thinking about turning a spare bedroom into a recording studio. It wouldn’t take too much to soundproof it.”

  Jonah nodded. “It’s a good idea. Let me know if you want my help.”

  Rocky knocked on the screen door before Felix could respond. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “This damn case is going to make me lose my mind.” He hooked an arm around Avery’s neck and pulled him into a bro hug. “Hiya, cutie.”

  “Hi,” Avery replied shyly.

  “You lost your mind a long time ago,” Felix countered, leading them into his dining room where his recording equipment was set up. “Are you still working the same cheating spouse investigation?”

  “Yeah, but Pete and I are about to shake things up. It dawned on me that the husband is potentially sending me on a wild goose chase for his own nefarious reasons. I’ve never had a client refuse to accept proof their spouse wasn’t having an affair.”

  “Wow. Nefarious. Nice vocabulary, Major,” Felix said.

  “Aw, shucks,” Rocky replied, slipping into an exaggerated southern drawl. “I heard the word last night when I was watching The Straight Shooter’s segment on the nightly news. He uses those fancy words and sounds so smart. I looked up the meaning and decided to use it the first chance I got.”

  Felix tensed and glowered but didn’t remark on Rocky saying the name of Felix’s nemesis in his home.

  “Like one of those word-of-the-day calendars,” Avery suggested.

  Rocky nodded. “Only Jude Arrow is so much better to look at than any calendar. Don’t you think so, Felix?”

  “I fucking hate you,” Felix growled.

  “You’re crazy about me,” Rocky countered, hooking his arm around Felix as he’d done with Avery. “Not as much as you like Jude Arrow though.”

  Felix danced out of the embrace and pivoted to face Rocky. He drew his fists up in front of him and bounced on his feet like a boxer. “Those are fighting words, Major.”

  “The only one fighting anything here is you, pal,” Rocky said, grinning wickedly. “Just admit you’re jonesing for Jude.”

  Felix took a swing, but there wasn’t much power behind it, so Rocky had plenty of time to duck. He landed a soft jab to Felix’s stomach before the reporter brought his hands up and clapped both sides of the private investigator’s head, missing Rocky’s ears by mere inches. They danced around each other for a few more minutes, taking lousy swings and landing harmless punches.

  Avery watched with rapt attention the two men’s faux fight for a few minutes before looking up at Jonah. “Is this how your recording sessions always go?”

  “It’s not usually this bad,” Jonah replied. “They’re just really showing their asses for you, I guess.”

  Their voices must’ve reminded the two scrabbling men that they weren’t alone because they immediately froze in place. Rocky had Felix bent over in a headlock and the fist he’d used to give noogies stilled on top of Felix’s head. Felix’s fist was still pressed against Rocky’s stomach from the blow he’d just landed. Both men just stayed locked in their positions for a few seconds before recovering.

  Rocky was the first to move. He unhooked his arm and straightened to his full height. “We can’t seem to help ourselves.”

  “We’ll try harder to behave,” Felix added as he too stood up.

  Rocky turned and faced Felix, extending a hand. “Truce?”

  Felix reluctantly shook it. “Truce. Just stop saying his name. He’s my personal Voldemort.”

  “You started it by calling me Major.”

  “It’s your name.”

  Rocky released an exaggerated sigh. “You know how much I don’t like it.”

  “You know how much I hate him,” Felix countered.

  Rocky had a wry twinkle in his blue eyes, and Jonah expected more bantering to follow. He gave a jerky nod instead, then gestured to the table. “Shall we get started on setting the trap for Charlie Malcolm?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Felix said.

  Jonah, Felix, and Rocky took their positions behind the microphones, and Avery sat across from them. They briefly reviewed the agenda to make sure they didn’t veer off target, which was a habit they’d fallen into as their friendship grew.

  A few months ago, they’d hired a local artist to create an original score and lyrics for their podcast and recorded an introduction they could use with every episode. It consisted of a few lines of the eerie song before the guys introduced themselves as an investigative reporter, criminal analyst, and a private detective. They asked listeners to tune in each week to hear them discuss their beloved city’s most sensational crimes and her more sinister citizens. At the end of the episode, the entire Sinister in Savannah theme song would play in the background of the closing recording, where they asked listeners to subscribe, rate, and review the podcast. They also gave previews for future episodes or played funny outtakes Felix had edited out of the episode.

  Since the intro and closing sections were already recorded and would be added in edits, they just jumped right into the episode after Felix counted them down.

  “Today’s episode is called Ride the Lightning,” Felix said, starting them off. He had more experience and was much more at ease with the entire process than Jonah and Rocky combined. “The term is slang for execution by electric chair, which wasn’t abolished in Georgia until October 2001.”

  “Wow,” Rocky said. “That’s hard to imagine.”

  “It is,” Jonah agreed.

  “The three of us oppose the death penalty for various reasons, but we’re all in agreement on one point,” Felix said.

  “Probably more than one,” Rocky countered. “It’s not like I’m going to argue with you that my primary reason for opposing the death penalty is somehow better than the reason you oppose it.”

  “Maybe you won’t today,” Felix teased. “I won’t hold my breath since you’re likely to change your mind.”

  Rocky laughed. “True. I am a Gemini. What’s the one point you feel we agree on?”

  “I’ll let Jonah explain since it’s his main reason for opposing capital punishment,” Felix said.

  Jonah fought back the momentary panic creeping up on him. Just breathe and be yourself. “Well, for capital punishment to work, the convictions have to always be right. That’s just not the case. Innocent people are arrested, tried, convicted, and executed for crimes they didn’t commit. That is a great travesty.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” Rocky said.

  “One of the ways people are railroaded by the system is through coerced confessions, which is the subject of our podcast today,” Felix said. “Jonah, why don’t you tell our listeners about Earl Ison, Bo Cahill, and how you came to know about them.”

  This was the easy part. Jonah forgot his nerves while he spoke about his dear friend Marla and her friend Earl, whose life was taken much too soon. Jonah was careful not to throw anyone under the bus as he stated the inconsistencies he’d found right off the bat and moved to the investigation the three of them started. Jonah had no idea if Morrissey and Milton were crooked cops. He also made certain he kept Jerry’s name private to protect his identity. Jonah’s objective was to draw
out Malcolm, not wreck other people’s lives.

  Rocky and Felix interjected with their own observations and experiences. Then they arrived at the part where they set the trap.

  “So, you have exciting news about a break in the investigation, right?” Felix asked.

  “I do,” Jonah agreed. “I located a guard who worked death row when Bo Cahill was incarcerated at Georgia State Prison. He’s agreed to meet with me.”

  “You think he knows how someone was able to coerce a confession from Bo?” Rocky asked.

  Jonah smiled and hoped his voice sounded smug when he said, “I know so. He told me he’s wrestled with his conscience for over thirty years and wants to make things right.”

  “When are you meeting with him?” Felix asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Jonah replied.

  “That’s really exciting,” Rocky said.

  They chatted about various aspects of the case a little longer before Felix turned off the recording equipment and called it a wrap.

  “Part one is over,” Felix said. “Part two will happen Monday after Malcolm has had an opportunity to listen to the episode.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Jonah said, making his podcast partners groan. “We can set this trap up, but we’re going to need some help if we want to make this legal.”

  “We do,” Rocky agreed. “You know how hard that is for me to say, right?”

  Felix and Jonah both chuckled.

  “Yeah, what’s the point of doing all this if we can’t make charges stick? I think we also need a decoy to act as the prison guard. Do you have someone in mind?” Felix asked.

  Jonah nodded. “I know the perfect person for each role.”

  On Monday morning, it was hard to tell which emotion was riding Jonah harder—fear or frustration. Both revolved around one delectable intern who refused to call in sick to work as Jonah had requested.

  “I never miss work,” Avery had argued the previous night over the phone and again before work this morning. “We need everything to look normal.”

  “I need you to be safe,” Jonah had countered during both conversations.