by K. Sterling
Throttled
By
K. Sterling
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Prologue
“Here you go, Jackie!” Grandpa said as he lifted Jack and set him on the stool then handed him a comic book. “Let pawpaw watch his horses and then we’ll go to the park,” he promised and Jack nodded and looked up at the television screen as people scrambled to get in place before the race began. Jack looked down at the comic book and opened the cover and began reading as the horses left the gate and his grandfather pumped his fists and told Jack to pray for Time For Dubai.
Chapter 1
Donovan Wexler was a waste of time. He was a petty thief and con man and he knew absolutely nothing about Ciara Cole. As usual, Donnie was looking to get out of trouble with some stolen goods he “found” and hoped Wal would help him out in exchange for something vague or stale gossip.
“She was a good kid but she got in serious trouble. Her ma got laid off and she started asking around about making some extra cash,” Donnie explained and Wal raised a brow back at him before he shook his head and dropped into the driver’s seat of his car.
“I already knew that, Donnie. Her little brother needed surgery and the rent was due. I know Wavy T offered her work but I can’t figure out what happened to her after she turned him down,” he stated as he started the car and Donnie waved his hands.
“Right, right, right!” He said quickly as he leaned into the window. He reeked of cheap malt liquor and cigarettes and Wal waved his hand in front of his face as he raised the window. “But it’s good to get confirmation from a reliable source!” Donnie protested and knocked on the glass. Wal shook his head as he steered away from the curb. “Come on, Wal! Look into that charge for me?” He called but Wal ignored him as he turned up the meditation music and forced out a long breath, releasing as much tension as he could as he found his calm center. The case felt grim from the moment the call came across his desk and Wal swore as he turned into an alley off Kent and 23rd. He wasn’t making any progress, after two weeks on the case, and his stomach became a cold, hard knot when he thought about Ciara Cole. Wal put her aside as he got out of the car and strolled to the dumpster then squatted next to a cinderblock as he squinted at his car. At least his day wouldn’t be a total shitfest, he pointed out as he stood and hefted the block. He went around to the right headlight and his lips curved into a wry smile as he smashed it with the block. The plastic cracked and crunched and Wal gave it a few more smashes so the bulb and socket were completely crushed then added a few good whacks so the body would need just a little work.
“That should take about a week,” Wal murmured then nodded in satisfaction as he went to return the cinderblock. He gave the front right a good scrape along the wall as he eased out of the alley and chanted quietly under his breath as he drove. He honked when he pulled up to the front of the shop and coughed over the flutter in his chest as the door of the old fire station was pushed open and Marco waved him in.
“What the hell did you do this time?” Marco complained as he leaned and inspected the damage as Wal pulled into the bay. He pushed the garage door shut and Wal shrugged as he got out and leaned against the car’s hood.
“I was chasing this dirtbag and swerved to avoid an old lady pushing a shopping cart in an alley,” he lied and Marco winced as he scrubbed his hair.
“I can get it done in about a week,” he estimated and Wal nodded.
“That’s not a problem,” he replied and Marco made a resigned sound as he waved at Wal.
“Get out of your tight-ass government jacket, you can help me get a head start on taking this apart,” he ordered and Wal tried to appear calm and indifferent as he slid out of his coat. They looked toward the door and Marco cocked his chin at the younger man leaning in. “I was just about to close for the night. Let me get your keys,” he said and the other man grinned and offered them a sheepish wave before he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Sorry. I was hoping to catch you before you called it a night,” he said and Marco made a dismissive gesture before he turned back to Wal.
“Give me a few. I just need to give him a receipt and his keys,” he said then leaned close. “Be careful. He’s cute but the contact awkwardness is intense. You might want to hang out over here,” he whispered and Wal ducked his head in agreement as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves. Marco gave him a playful punch in the arm before he jogged to his office and Wal nodded at the other guy then loosened his tie. He became distracted as he studied the damage to the headlight and did his best to appear uninterested as Marco laughed softly and they murmured at each other. Wal became impatient as he watched Marco’s “cute” customer push the receipt into his pocket then flirt. Very obviously and terribly. “I’ll see you later, then,” Marco called as he got the door for him and Wal ground his teeth as the younger guy waved at him before he left. Marco locked the door then shook his head and laughed as he backed away from it, then hissed as he turned on his heel and held up his hands. “Raincheck on this?” He asked as he pointed at Wal’s car. “I forget how much of a sucker I am for nerds. He’s swinging by to pick me up in two hours,” Marco explained and Wal offered him a wide, tight smile then shook his head.
“Sure. No problem. I’ll take off and catch up with you later,” he said as he grabbed his coat.
“Come by tomorrow? I’ll text you once I’m up and we’ll hang out. I’ll get new brackets ordered in the morning,” Marco said and Wal nodded.
“Sounds good. I’ll take the truck,” he said as he headed for Marco’s office and he laughed.
“Take the Subaru! I just finished the new exhaust and it’s shit your pants loud,” he teased and Wal’s brows pulled together.
“I’m not a white suburban rapper and I’d rather use the siren, if I need to announce my presence or make people shit their pants,” he replied and Marco’s head snapped back as he laughed.
“I’d honestly prefer to stay and hang out with you but I get the feeling he’s been working up the nerve to ask me out for a while and these looks aren’t going to last. I need to find a husband before I turn into my dad,” he said and pointed at his face. Wal’s vision narrowed and focused on Marco’s chin. It was square and there was a dimple and Wal remembered how his lips would burn from Marco’s heavy 5 o’clock shadow as he worshipped his jagged jaw and that dimple. Please stay, Wal’s soul ached but he gave Marco a dry look.
“That would be a shame,” he said and Marco slid him a cocky wink as he backed towards the stairs. Marco Costa Sr. looked like Dean Martin in his prime and Marco Jr. inherited just enough of his mother’s pouty Italian beauty to make him devastating. His large brown eyes and full lips could wreck Wal’s day but at the moment, it was his chin and that deep, dark stubble. His eyes dipped below Marco’s nose and lips and Wal clenched his teeth, stifling a groan.
“Hey. Is everything ok?” Marco asked and Wal nodded quickly as he reached behind him for the door.
�
��Sorry. My mind’s someplace else,” he replied and Marco winced.
“Ciara Cole,” he guessed and Wal hummed in agreement. That would be the easier answer.
“I’m taking off. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he turned and Marco waved.
“Have a good night,” he called as Wal slipped out the door.
“Probably not,” Wal murmured to himself as he walked around the front of Marco’s shop truck. It was a beautifully restored Ford Deluxe and Marco used it to run around town to pick up parts. Wal wasn’t interested in cars but he loved borrowing Marco’s truck because it felt so much like him. He had classic Roman features and olive skin and looked like a throwback to the Jets and the Sharks and Grease. But with poetry and rock band tattoos and purple fingernails. Wal unlocked the truck’s door and his heart sank as he got inside. “Stay and have dinner with me, Marco,” he said as he stared at the firehouse and he swallowed as his throat tightened and his nose burned. “Why couldn’t you have just said that instead of fucking up your car again?” He wondered and sniffed hard. “You can go back inside and tell him,” he pointed out and the pull was so strong as his vision swam and his chest tightened. “I can’t,” he sighed as he pushed the key into the ignition and hated himself for being such a broken coward.
Chapter 2
“I just couldn’t get into Star Trek! There wasn’t much of a storyline and the characters weren’t that developed,” Marco said as he leaned against the streetlight in front of the shop and Tad gasped as he stepped closer.
“But you think Star Wars had a good storyline? It wasn’t that deep and there were Ewoks, Marco!” Tad said in mock horror. Marco laughed softly as he let Tad lean in and waited as their lips brushed. It was nice and warm as Tad’s head tilted and his tongue slid past Marco’s lips. Tad groaned softly and it was really nice too as Marco imagined something a little louder and sweatier. But…
“It’s always been the stronger of the two franchises but the original trilogy definitely had the edge when we were kids,” Marco murmured as their lips clung and Tad shook his head as he stepped back.
“I was going to put out but you’re clearly a psychopath,” he said with a wink. Then gave Marco a sheepish grin as he kicked him playfully. “Unless you were planning on inviting me up, then I hate Star Trek and we can name our first kid Wicket,” Tad suggested and Marco chuckled as he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. He kissed him convincingly then sighed hard as he eased him back.
“I have a rule about putting out on the first date,” he said. I just made it up but I’m not in the mood to admit I’m failing and pathetic, Marco thought and wrinkled his nose. “And I’ve got to get to work on Wal’s car. He doesn’t mind my truck on the weekend but it’s a pain in the ass to drive around the city all day,” he explained and Tad narrowed his eyes at him.
“You know, I’m not against the poly thing, if that helps,” he said and Marco’s head pulled back.
“What?” He laughed and Tad’s lips pulled tight.
“It sounds like you’re already married,” he said and Marco hissed.
“Sorry. We’re really close but there’s nothing there,” he promised. I tried but Wal’s never going to love anything more than being a cop. He’s the only man I can’t have. “We’re like Blanche and Dorothy,” he explained and Tad’s lips twisted.
“Are you Dorothy because Blanche would definitely invite me up for coffee then tell me to make it myself in the morning,” he argued playfully and Marco gave him several points for being extremely cute and appropriately persistent. But he was cute and cute wasn’t enough to make Marco forget Wal. Tad didn’t have a chance, really. He was a nerd but also hot and clearly had a dirty side, once he got over his nerves. He was also a doctor and he should have been the man of Marco’s dreams but he wanted it to be Wal’s soft grey eyes and hard, chiseled, nearly expressionless face sitting across from him at dinner. Wal was dry and quiet and said more with the slight tilt of his brow or the tightening of his lips than he could with words. Few people got him like Marco but Wal could be funny when it was just them and he was the most brilliant man he’d ever met. Unfortunately, Detective Jack Walden couldn’t take a day off. He might leave the station or a crime scene and go home just about every night but he couldn’t leave a case alone until it was solved. He might stay home or hang out with Marco, on the weekends, when he was between cases but Wal would always answer the phone and be the first one to the scene and the last to leave. Marco had no idea why he thought he could change Wal or why he would even want to. How could he get mad at Wal for wanting to save and protect people?
“I’ve only regretted guys I hooked up with on the first date. I’m usually safe if we can get through two evenings without offending each other,” Marco reasoned and was impressed. It was a very solid lie. Marco rarely regretted sex because it rarely meant anything. A guy could be cute and Marco could get really turned on but it was always just nice when they kissed him and it was more like a sigh of relief when he came. He ruined me.
“I’m really hard to offend,” Tad warned and he surprised Marco when he captured his face and pressed his lips to his. “I had an amazing night and I’ll be heartbroken if you don’t call me,” he said then sucked on Marco’s lip before he released him. “I’ll be at the hospital all next weekend but we should make plans for the weekend after. Let’s see a movie then get sushi before you bring me back here and show me how to ride that pole,” he suggested and Marco snorted.
“You’d better believe I’ll make you sign a waiver before you slide down that thing,” he said as he cocked his thumb toward the shop and Tad grinned.
“Is there a pole in there? I hadn’t noticed. I guess I could try that too,” he drawled and Marco’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.
“Very well played,” he conceded and Tad tapped his brow as he walked backwards.
“This is your last chance,” he threatened and Marco bit his lip and squeezed an eye shut.
“I’m very tempted but I won’t respect myself in the morning.”
“I was totally lying,” Tad said as he waved dismissively. “You could get this at any hour of your choosing,” he confided as he dug his keys out of his pocket. “I’m even less dignified in bed,” he added and Marco went ahead and groaned.
“I really like that in a man. I promise I’ll call you so we can work things out for the weekend after next,” he said and Tad cheered as he used the key fob to unlock his car then tossed Marco a playful grin before he turned and jogged across the sidewalk. “Later!” He called as Tad drove off and Marco groaned again as he shuffled to his door. “Why?” He asked himself in exasperation. “He was a perfectly lovely young man with the face of an angel and a divine ass but you spent the whole evening thinking about Wal.” He’d meant it earlier, when he said he’d rather spend the evening with Wal but those were the nights Marco regretted. He’d go to bed even more frustrated. Especially if he got off. He’d torture himself with memories of Wal’s hands on his body or the taste of his skin and Marco would feel disappointed and really pissed at Wal. It usually wore off by morning but he often spent a good five minutes screaming and swearing into his pillow before he fell asleep. “It feels like it might be that kind of night,” Marco said then swung around when a can rolled across the pavement in the alley on the other side of the shop. “Someone there?” He called. He wasn’t dumb enough to take a look so he assumed it was a cat and quickly went about his business.
Chapter 3
“I brought donuts,” Wal said as he passed Marco then raised a brow at him as he locked the door. He usually had the bay and shop doors open when they worked, even if he was closed. He liked to watch his neighbors come and go and he didn’t mind helping a regular customer out if they ran into trouble.
“You’re the devil. Give them to me,” Marco said as he took the box from Wal. “You know I have to drop four more pounds to make weight for the fight next weekend,” he complained and opened the box then
crammed a whole donut into his mouth.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Wal said. He hated watching Marco drop weight or bulk up to make different weight classes. He put his body through hell and Wal felt so uneasy whenever Marco had a black eye or a busted lip. It didn’t happen often and Wal appreciated Marco’s dedication but his face. It was so perfect and one of the few things Wal liked in the world. Marco had already broken his nose and it was still just a little crooked. That just made him hotter, Wal complained to himself.
“Come to the fight! You’ve been to one!” Marco protested then groaned ecstatically as he sucked the frosting off his fingers before he snatched another donut from the box. He dropped it on the hood of his new project car as he ate. It was an older Charger but that was the limit of Wal’s knowledge. He knew enough about the science of cars but he didn’t appreciate them the way Marco did. Then again, no one loved cars the way Marco did. His father and grandfather were mechanics and Marco was often running out to his father’s shop, just outside the city, to help his father take out an engine or deliver a new one. Marco was an expert mechanic and could tell you which bolt in an engine was loose just by the way it knocked. But Marco was also an artist and realized that being a traditional mechanic in a city where most people walked or used the train wasn’t a good business plan so he developed a cult clientele among the underground drag racing community and the rich weekend drivers. He restored and tricked out vintage cars and he could turn a grocery getter into a street racing monster. “Jesus. Just one more,” Marco whispered in defeat as he stretched over the hood and flipped open the lid. He used his finger to wipe off a smear of glaze then cheered under his breath before he sucked it clean.