“Jesus, I was just there for my son’s game.”
“Soccer?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck, don’t tell me his team is the Stingers.”
“No, but they were playing them. My boy knew Seth Mayer from soccer as well. They play in the same league.”
“Fuck,” Yeager repeats. “Didn’t want to think the two were connected. Hoping the kid was stupid and took off without telling his parents, but—”
“What do you need?” Damian cuts in.
“An Amber Alert is going out in the next five minutes, that’s what I called to give you a heads-up on. I’ve got my guys and local PD out scouring the fields and the adjoining golf course. The McKinleys are local to you. Work it from that end, I’ll work it from here and we’ll be in touch.”
Twenty minutes later, the entire team is in the conference room, including Agent Linden. Damian shot me an apologetic look when she walked in. I’ll suck it up. Fuck, I’ll do anything to find that boy.
I hand out printouts of everything Yeager sent us, a picture of Thomas on top.
I vaguely recognized the kid: blue-eyed and blond. Just like Seth.
Just like Liam.
“I need to make a quick call,” I mutter, already on my way out to the hallway.
“Dylan?” Marya’s voice is breathless when she answers. “The Amber Alert, it’s one of the kids—”
“I know, Sweetheart. Listen, I don’t have much time. Do me a favor; keep the boys home. If you need to go out for anything, ask your mom to sit with them. Please. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” I can hear her strangle a sob and it kills me I can’t do anything about it right now. I know I’m probably freaking her out on a day she’s been freaked out enough—and I fucking hate that too—but I need to focus on finding Thomas.
“Gotta let you go, babe.”
“Go. Find him,” she whispers back.
“NO ONE IS SAYING IT, so I will.” Luna looks around the table. “Anyone else thinking we should have a closer look at Jeremy Berger?”
“Absolutely, I’m on that. Heading up to Hermosa shortly,” Damian answers. “Linden, you’re coming with me,” he says to Toni, who’s been quiet and only nods. “Jas, I want you to dig into the Four Corners League. Pull an address list for every kid on his team; call the parents. Any information that looks interesting, toss it to Luna and Dylan to follow up on. Next look at board, administration, coaches. Anyone even remotely connected to the league; I want it scrutinized front to back. You’ll be in contact with Yeager.” He turns to me. “Dylan, get in touch with Joe Benedetti and get him in the loop. Then you and Luna head over to the McKinley house. The parents are still in Farmington, but the boy’s uncle is coming down from Dolores with a key. Everything and anything we find gets relayed into the office right away. Every fucking minute counts, people.”
After I talk with Benedetti, our local chief of police who promises any and all support, Luna and I meet up with a very distraught Michael McKinley—Thomas’ uncle—outside a nice house in a middle-class neighborhood near the college.
The McKinleys aren’t hurting for money. Parked in the driveway is a fairly new Subaru Ascent, and I know from the reports the vehicle the family is currently driving is a Porsche Cayenne. I’m guessing the Subaru is mom’s ride.
Thomas is the only child and it’s easy to see which bedroom is his. Looks like a boy’s dream; posters of superheroes and famous soccer players on the wall, a nice computer on his desk, a forty-inch flat-screen mounted across from one of those gaming chairs, and a PlayStation on the floor beside it.
“Big gamer? Your nephew?” I ask Michael, who follows us around.
“Yeah. Aside from the soccer, it’s all he does these days.”
“These days?” Luna, always perceptive, picks up on it as well.
“Well...” The man darts assessing glances between Luna and me before he appears to come to a decision. “My brother and his wife are going through a tough time,” he says reluctantly. That explains why not only the master, but also the spare bedroom, look to be occupied. “The atmosphere in the house hasn’t exactly been healthy, so I guess these past few months he mostly sticks to his room.”
“I see.” I send Luna a meaningful look. “Would you excuse me for a minute?” I announce, already pulling my phone from my pocket as I walk out of the room and down the stairs.
“Talk to me,” Jasper answers.
“Get on the horn with Yeager. If he doesn’t know it yet, the McKinleys are having marital issues. The kind that has them sleep in separate bedrooms and is bad enough the boy hides out in his room all the time.”
“Gotcha.”
“And, Jas? There’s one other thing; Thomas has a PS4 sitting on the floor next to a state-of-the-art gaming chair, complete with headset and mic.”
“Is that right?”
“Age, looks, soccer, and now PlayStation. If it was just the gaming, I wouldn’t even consider it significant, but add it to the other similarities, it could well be. Want me to bring in the system?”
“You bet. I’ll get hold of the Farmington office, see what they found on Seth’s.”
“Right.” All this is hitting way too close to home. “What about that group that Max—”
“Already thinking of that, brother. Not taking any chances, but just to say; Max is not blond and blue-eyed.”
Max may not be, but I know another boy who hits those marks perfectly.
CHAPTER 18
Marya
I wake up at a gentle touch to my face.
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
I blink my eyes open to find Dylan leaning over the back of the couch. From the TV the late-night sounds of Saturday Night Live filter through. It’s been years since I watched it and decided to while waiting for word from Dylan.
“I’m watching SNL.”
“With your eyes closed?”
I decide the best way to handle this is to ignore it.
I scoot my legs over the side of the couch, sit up, grab the remote, and mute the sound. “How are you? Do you need something to eat? A beer?” I turn around to face him and see the sign of fatigue mar his features. I badly want to ask if there’s any news on the missing boy, but I’m pretty sure if he’d been found he would’ve told me.
“I had something at the office earlier, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss.”
I put my knee in the couch and reach my arms around his neck, lifting my face. “I can do that.”
I’m surprised when his mouth is infinitely gentle on mine. Not sure what I was expecting—hunger, or frustration, or maybe both—but not the tenderness he is showing me. His eyes are haunted when he lifts his head and kisses the tip of my nose.
“Come sit down,” I invite him, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to sit down. What I want to do is take you to bed and make love to you,” he says, his eyes filled with regret. “But with just a few hours to get some sleep before getting back to the search, I wouldn’t be doing our first time together justice. I’ll need time for that and I’m dead on my feet.” He winces at his own choice of words. “I should go.”
The thought of him driving home to an empty house doesn’t sit well. “Stay here,” I offer, getting up off the couch. “Head on upstairs, I’m just going to lock up and take care of the lights.” I don’t wait for an answer and head for the kitchen to put the last few things in the dishwasher before turning it on. By the time I turn around, he’s no longer there.
I can’t even imagine dealing with the most depraved aspects of society every day then coming home to try and instill morals and values in a child you’re raising on your own. So many things I’ve come to learn about Dylan, in the past few months, have not only made the eight-year gap disappear, but have slowly eroded any misgivings I’ve had about letting another man in.
My judgment hasn’t exactly been the greatest, but I don’t think I’m making a mistake letting Dylan in.
; Throwing the deadbolt on the front door and turning off the hall light, I head upstairs.
He’s already in bed, just the light on the nightstand left on. His clothes are tossed on the ladder-back chair, in front of the antique dressing table I bought at a garage sale and fixed up; the only nice piece of furniture in my bedroom. The rest is functional at best; an old dresser with half the handles missing off the drawers, a box spring and mattress on the floor serve as my bed, and a cheap metal Walmart side table is my nightstand.
I pull one of my nightshirts from the dresser and slip into the bathroom where I quickly change, brush my teeth, and wash my face, before walking out.
Dylan hasn’t moved, he looks asleep, but when I turn off the lamp and slip under the covers, he immediately turns toward me. A strong arm snakes around my middle and pulls me snug with my back to his front. He tangles his legs with mine and pins my body to the mattress. His face burrows in my hair and I hear him let out a deep sigh. “Thank you,” he mumbles, and within seconds his breathing deepens.
The hard body pressed against me is causing a hot ache between my legs, so it takes me a little longer to drift off.
I WAKE UP WHEN DYLAN leaves the bed.
A quick glance at the alarm clock tells me it’s just after four. A little over three and a half hours of sleep. Ugh.
I hear the toilet flush and then the shower turn on.
Dylan, naked in my shower.
My thighs rub together restlessly before I finally throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side. I should probably get some coffee going, toast him a bagel, so he doesn’t have to start what’s probably going to be another tough day on an empty stomach.
I get up, aiming for the door when I sneak a glance at the bathroom. The door is left open a crack, and I can see his vague outline behind the condensed glass shower doors.
So fucking tempting.
Making a split-second decision, I head downstairs. I get a pot of coffee going, pull a couple of bagels from the freezer—leaving them to defrost—before rushing back up.
“Oomph...”
I’m lifted off my feet the moment I enter the bedroom and tossed unceremoniously on the bed. Dylan’s still wet body lands on mine.
“Where’d you go?” he rumbles, running his nose along mine.
“Jesus, you scared me.” I’m still catching my breath, but my hands are already exploring the damp skin of his back. “I have coffee started, was going to toast some bagels.”
He brushes impatiently at the wet hair dropping over his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.” The hand that was at his hair now cups my face, his eyes on my mouth, thumb stroking along my bottom lip.
“Can’t let you go on an empty stomach,” I share, voice hoarse with arousal at that simple touch.
His hand travels down, over my throat brushing down between my breasts. My heart is racing against his palm.
“I was going for a different kind of breakfast.” His eyes follow his hand trailing down to the hem of my nightshirt.
“Dylan...”
“Off, Sweetheart.”
He tugs the material from under my hips and works it up over my breasts. I’ve barely lifted my arms when the shirt is whipped off and tossed blindly next to the bed. His mouth latches onto my nipple as his hands go to work on my panties.
“I was going to wait for a perfect time,” he mumbles, his lips brushing my skin. “With our lives, perfect times don’t exist, only opportunities. I’m taking it.”
My panties go the route of my shirt and he uses his knees to spread my legs, dropping his pelvis in the V they create. His rigid cock is hot against me, and I instinctively pull a knee up to his hip, hooking my heel around the back of his leg. My hands slide down over the taut muscle of his ass, holding him in place as I tilt my hips.
“Condom.” Again it’s Dylan who has to remind me.
“Please don’t stop...”
“Two seconds.”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s off the bed and digging through his jeans pockets. His backside is phenomenal, when he turns the front only gets better. He stops at the foot of the bed, looking down at me as he rips at the foil with his teeth. The walls of my pussy contract at the sight and my legs spread wider in invitation.
“Fuck, so beautiful,” he growls, nostrils flaring as he manages to roll on the condom blindly and puts a knee on the mattress. There’s not a doubt in my mind he means that. No way a man could look at me the way he is and not mean it. I welcome the weight of his body and instinctively wrap my limbs around him. “Look at me, Sweetheart.”
My eyes drift up to his, blowing out shallow breaths as I feel him line up his cock to my entrance.
“Please...ahhh...” The groan escapes me when the broad crown pushes inside.
“Eyes open, baby,” he urges when they flutter shut. “I need you to know it’s me inside you.”
I force them open and look into eyes that are almost black with heat. Burning, like the stretch of my body to accommodate his girth as he slides deep.
As his hips set a rhythm, I feel full to the brim: with him, with emotions that should scare me, but don’t. I can see every one of them reflected in his eyes. Time is endless there.
There’s almost no room to breathe as the force of his hips drives his cock impossibly deeper. It doesn’t take long for me to stop breathing altogether when the world splinters apart, and Dylan swallows my cry with his mouth.
A few moments later, I do the same with the deep guttural groan as he jerks in my arms.
DYLAN
“Cream cheese?”
“Sure.”
I watch as Marya putters around her kitchen in the same nightshirt I stripped off her, just half an hour ago. I’d rather she be naked, but I guess with a houseful of boys, that’s not a viable option. Too bad.
More regrettable is I have a few things I want to talk to her about before I head back to the office. A talk I’m afraid will wipe that little satisfied smile from her lips.
“Sweetheart...”
“Yeah?” She turns around and slides a plate in front of me with a bagel and a bunch of grapes. I have to bite down a grin. She’s in mom-mode.
“Grab your coffee and come sit with me, okay? Few things we need to discuss before I head out.”
There goes the little smile. Shit.
“What?”
She takes the stool beside mine, wrapping her arms around herself. Bracing. I turn her to face me, and bracket her knees with mine, resting my hands on her thighs.
“A lot happened yesterday,” I start, looking her in the eye. “Some of it I want you to be aware of, because it impacts you and the boys.” I can feel her body jerk in response and add some pressure to keep her in her seat. “For a few reasons. One being that we’re looking into Jeremy Berger’s whereabouts. We only have Harry’s word he was there, but the coincidence is enough we need to dig into it. It means at some point today, Damian will be here to ask a few questions of the boys about any contact with their father.”
“Will you be there too?” Her voice sounds small.
“I can’t make that promise, but I’ll do my best,” I reassure her as best I can. “There are a lot of moving pieces in this investigation, though. We’re all on our toes.” She nods her understanding.
“That’s one lead we’re looking into. Another is that we discovered both Seth and Thomas were...are...” I shake my head, reminding myself that Thomas could still be alive. “They’re part of the same Fortnite group Max and Liam are. Now that doesn’t have to mean anything,” I quickly add, noting Marya’s sharp inhale. “But it’s something we need to look into.”
“I’m confiscating all their game systems,” she blurts out, two red spots high on her cheeks, and fire in her eyes.
“Sweetheart, I get your reaction, but you’ve already unplugged your router, so they won’t be able to go online. Which reminds me, I should take that router with me, and if you don’t mind, Liam’s PS4. I picked up Max’s yeste
rday. There may be useful information Jasper can pull from those.”
Without saying anything, she pushes my hands aside and slides off her stool, heading straight for the cupboard over the kitchen to retrieve the router she stored there. “That’s one,” she bites off, setting it on the counter in front of me before turning toward the basement. A minute later she’s back, carrying a game system and setting it next to the router. “And that’s two. I wish you’d take them all.”
I pull her between my legs and wrap my arms around the small of her back. “Seeing as it would be best if you guys stay here—indoors—for now, those systems may come in handy to keep them occupied.”
“Liam will be pissed his is gone.”
“I’m sure if you explain that it may help find Thomas, he won’t be so upset.” The reminder there’s a boy out there missing deepens the shadows on her face.
“We’re supposed to go to Mom’s for dinner.”
“Ask your mother to come here instead.”
“I can do that,” she agrees without a fuss.
“Good.” I drop my mouth to hers for a soft kiss. “You should also know that at this time we can’t get a bead on Jeremy’s whereabouts, which is partly why I’d feel better if you stayed here.”
“Do you think my boys are in danger?”
I tighten my hold on her. “I think every parent should be on alert right now,” I respond without really answering her question, but Marya is smart enough to know the answer already.
It eats at my gut that I have to leave her with this—I’d rather she take the memory of the best fucking half hour of my life into her day—but she should be aware. I don’t want anything else blindsiding her.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“I know.” She grabs my shirt and drops her head to my chest.
10-Code (Rock Point, #4) Page 15