"Who's Isha?"
"It's not important. What is important is they found a match to the print from your place. It belongs to Daniel."
The room went silent then. It was the silence that came when something was just said that ended the world. It was a bad, heartbreaking kind of quiet that made Leo want to bang a fist into the wall. He refrained. He kept telling himself just because Daniel's print was found at Anderson's didn't mean he did anything wrong. It could be that his gloves ripped when they were clearing the scene. Or it could be Daniel forgot to put his gloves on and touched something. Any number of things could have happened.
"Maybe it's from when you guys were there after the break-in."
Leo shook his head and they went quiet once more.
"So what now?"
Leo looked at Anderson, who was now sitting on the bed.
"I asked Isha to look into Daniel's background."
"Are you sure that's a good idea? It can't be safe for her and what if Daniel found out she's looking into him—and he's the bad guy?"
"I've thought of that."
"I have my laptop now. Could you get access from here?"
Leo shook his head. "No. I need to have the programs installed on it. Don't worry. Isha will let us know what she finds if she finds anything. I asked her to be careful. If Daniel did anything wrong, as long as he doesn't know we're onto him, Isha will be fine."
Walking across the space, Leo knelt in front of Anderson and rested his head gently in Anderson's lap. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until Anderson sank his fingers into Leo's hair and massaged gently. Leo exhaled long and slow, feeling the small of his back throb in exhaustion. He wrapped his arms around Anderson's legs for comfort and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he stayed that way but Anderson didn't move or complain. Instead, the professor simply caressed the back of Leo's neck, dragging his fingers through Leo's hair.
It was precisely what he needed—to feel close to someone.
Moaning, he eventually, reluctantly, lifted his head.
Chapter Fifteen
Anderson finally talked Leo into getting some sleep. For a while after Leo was snoring softly beside him, Anderson simply sat there, holding him against his chest and trying to remember the last time he felt so at ease with a man. His last relationship ended abruptly when Anderson realized love wasn't in Ken's cards. Turning, he kissed Leo's head, praying if anything happened between them it would be real.
Finally he laid Leo gently on the bed and made his way down the stairs. He had dinner with Mildred and the coach then sat in the living room with Coach Jessops. Mildred had long since cleaned up, with his help, after dinner and went up to the bedroom to read. He wished he'd brought some work to mark because it was so quiet. Standing by the window, he stared out wondering how this was all going to end. No matter how long he thought about it, he just didn't see a happy ending in sight.
"He's a good man, you know."
Turning around, Anderson shoved his fingers into his back pockets. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Kim—Leo. He may act tough and no-nonsense but he's a good man."
Anderson said nothing about the way Leo'd laid his head into his lap earlier. He'd seen a part of Leo in that one action that spoke so much more about him. Perhaps Anderson was reading too much into it but he saw a man who wasn't afraid to let a lover hold his very soul.
Damn, I sound like a fucking Hallmark card.
He sucked in some air and made his way across the room to sit with the coach. "How long have you known him?"
"Since he was about fourteen. He was somewhat of a terror then until your father got his hands on him."
"How did that happen? Leo hasn't said much about how they met. All I know is he loved my dad."
"Well, your father had a friend who worked in the school system as a teacher. He's dead now—heart attack. His name was Christopher…"
"Christopher Mason. I remember him and when he died. My father was very sad."
"Yeah. They met in university. Anyway—one day, Christopher had your father come in to talk to his class about the legal system. Halfway through the talk, the fire alarm went off and people started darting from the classrooms. Not your father, he searched until he found the kid with the red paint on his hand."
"Leo? And what red paint?"
Coach laughed softly, fondly. "They kept pulling the alarm too many times for no reason. So what the fire department did was have this thing put on them. If someone pulled the alarm, a dye pack burst and stained the person's hand. Leo wasn't a bad kid. His mother was sick; his father was—I don't even know where his father was or what happened to the man. He just needed some structure. Once your father got a hold of him—complete three sixty."
"My father had that effect on people. That's one of the reasons I didn't go into law enforcement. I considered it but I just couldn't be him."
"I'm sure Jazmon didn't want you to be another him."
"It's just that he had a way with people. He always told me he saw people at the worst times in their lives; they just crossed a line and didn't wander too far. Sometimes he was able to push them back across that line and help them stay there. Other times, he had no choice but to put them away. Those were the times he hurt the most."
Coach Jessops nodded silently for a moment before his shoulders rose and fell heavily. "I still cannot believe he's gone. There's a hole now."
"In more ways than one."
"What do you think is going to happen?"
Anderson shrugged. "I don't know. I've been living in limbo since my father died. Leo is doing the best he can—I know he is. But he's tired. He's worn out. I don't think he's slept in days."
"How'd you get him to sleep just now?"
Anderson blushed deeply and cleared his throat. Walking away from where he was sitting, he folded his arms and looked out the window.
"I'm an old man, Anderson. I know how this works." Coach Jessops laughed softly. "I have been married for forty years."
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
Anderson turned to look at the old man he was speaking with as though they'd known each other for years. "It's just strange to talk to a straight person about…"
Coach Jessops nodded. "I know."
"How did you and Mildred stay together for so long?"
"Hard work."
Anderson chuckled. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
Coach Jessops walked over to where Anderson stood and rested a hand on his shoulder. The man leveled his brown eyes on Anderson and for the first time since his father died, Anderson felt the love and patience of a father. "Just remember. Everything that's worth having takes time. It takes patience. Hell, I courted Mildred for five years before she said a full sentence to me."
"Five years? What were you, a biker?"
"You would think so, huh?" Coach shook his head. "Nope. I was a nerd. I was into all the classic books and research. She wanted a biker."
Anderson laughed. "Yeah, girls and the bad boys."
"But I wasn't one—you see. After five years, I guess she knew love when she saw it."
"Do you think Leo would know love if he saw it?"
Coach nodded.
"I guess I don't love him enough. He can't see it. Sometimes he looks at me and I think he's looking at the most beautiful creature in the world. Then other times he looks at me and I'm not sure what he's seeing."
"Don't be silly. I see the way you look at him. I want my son to find someone to look at him the way you look at Leo. Maybe he's too caught up in catching the killer and can't see what's right in front of him. But once he bags the bad guy, he will be clear headed and he'll see. Don't worry. These things take time. You can't rush love."
Anderson groaned but he knew Coach Jessops was right. He knew he felt something strong for Leo but would he go so far as to call it love?
"I'm an old man, so my days end faster than you young guns. I should go see how Millie is doing. If you want t
o watch television, feel free. You have access to the kitchen, so make yourself at home."
"Thank you." Anderson nodded. "Good night."
He watched Coach Jessops leave the room but instead of watching television, he warmed some dinner leftovers, grabbed a couple bottles of water, and climbed the stairs back to the bedroom. When he entered, he found Leo sitting up on the bed with a pained look in his eyes. Anderson placed the tray down on the floor and sat on the side of the bed.
"Baby?"
Leo smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. "I woke up and you weren't here."
"I was talking to the coach… learned some very interesting things about you."
"Is that so?"
Anderson nodded with a bright smile. "And I brought you something to eat."
* * * *
Leo ate silently but he watched Anderson. He was rubbing the back of his neck the same way Leo would when fatigue was setting in. They were alike in so many ways. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Leo shoved some more potato into his mouth and chewed. It was either that or say something stupid. "You look tired, professor."
"No one has called me that outside of classes before," Anderson said. "Somehow when you say it, it sounds sexy."
He swallowed the last of his roast beef and placed the plate on the ground. Easing forward, he folded his legs and took Anderson's hands. "Get some sleep."
"I haven't had a good night's sleep since my father was killed. I keep having the same nightmare. I'm afraid to close my eyes."
"I'll be right here. I'll sleep with you."
"After your food digests. You just ate and you don't want to wake up with all that food sitting on your chest. It's not good for you and…"
Leo couldn't take his worry anymore so to stop his outpouring of words, Leo slammed his lips over Anderson's. The professor moaned but wrapped his arms around Leo's neck and opened his wonderful lips. Without a second thought, Leo shoved his tongue in, allowing the heat from their joined lips to flood his body as he leaned backward, pulling Anderson atop him.
"This your way of getting me to sleep?" Anderson questioned.
"Is it working?" Leo brushed a hand over Anderson's head to the back of his neck and caressed, massaged. "I wish I could take you in the bathtub."
"Take me in the bathtub?"
Leo sighed, closed his eyes, eased his mouth up to Anderson's ears and licked. "Take you in the bathtub… slow, rough."
"Leo."
"I know. We can't here. Just lie here with me."
Anderson moved to his side and rested his head on Leo's chest. Leo sighed, smoothing a hand over Anderson's cheek then settled against the bed. But no matter how happy he was to have Anderson in his arms, something didn't feel right. He didn't move until long after Anderson had fallen asleep. Walking to the window, he pushed a bit of the curtain aside and peered toward where the squad car was parked. He hoped someone had relieved them but he couldn't go check. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him going to speak with them and break their cover. He was about to crawl back into bed when a movement caught his eyes. Squinting, he hunched lower, staring into the semi blackness wondering if he was seeing things. Unfortunately he wasn't. There was a shadow moving toward the squad car.
"Shit."
"What's going on?"
Leo turned toward the bed but only for a mere second. He was rummaging through the drawer for his gun and badge even as he replied. "Someone is out there and they're heading toward the squad car."
"How do you know?"
"Trust me. I know. Stay in the house and away from the windows. If I don't come back you get Mildred and the Coach and lock yourselves in the master bedroom."
"Leo?"
"Please. Just do it."
He tore from the room and skidded down the stairs. Instead of going through the front door, he climbed out the low side window like he normally did when he stayed with the coach's place in high school after his mother died. Those were the times his mother spent more than a couple of days in the hospital. When he was younger it was so much easier to get through. Eventually he landed on solid ground and hunching in the dark, gun in hand, he made his way quietly around the house, across the street, then toward the car in the darkness of the trees.
His heart was racing in his chest. At one point it was so loud his ears popped. Swallowing, he winced as it popped back and he could hear again. He moved in behind the man hunched down by the car.
"NYPD!"
The man rose and turned toward him. The figure jerked around to look toward him, only to back up and take off running. The cops in the car didn't come out to help, even with all the commotion. It didn't seem as if they so much as lifted their heads. A bad taste rose in Leo's mouth. Instead of taking off after the suspect, Leo figured he should knock on the glass. He could not believe they were sleeping on the job, so something was definitely wrong.
When he knocked on the window, the men didn't move. With the suspect out of his mind for a moment, he removed his shirt, wrapped it around his first, and slammed it through the glass. It shattered inward. Reaching in, he felt the first officer's pulse and his heart almost stopped. He didn't have to touch the other man to know they were both dead.
"Son of a bitch!"
Before he got back to the front door, a frazzled Coach Jessops met him coming up the front. "What's going on?"
"Anderson was coming down the hall to our room and… Leo, he took Anderson!"
Leo growled. He paced before his former mentor, trying to keep the cry bubbling inside him down. A pain he'd never felt before surged within him from his heart, pulsated off his spine, and pushed him to one knee. Coach gripped his shoulder.
"Leo…"
"I tried playing by the rules," Leo whispered. He couldn't muster a louder voice for all his energy was going into staying in control. "I tried…"
"Leo, what are you going to do?"
Leo pushed to his feet and walked by the coach. He stopped with a hand on the door handle. "Do you really want to know?"
He said nothing else. He took a moment to call in the bodies then checked on Mildred. When he burst through the door, she swung a giant knife at him. "Millie! It's me. It's Kim!"
She hugged him, sobbing. Leo gritted his teeth, took a breath, and helped her to a seat. "I have to go. There'll be other officers coming to you. Don't open the door for anyone else other than the officers."
"Leo. Maybe you should hold off on going after this man. You're angry."
Leo looked at coach Jessops but shook his head. "The longer he's out there with Anderson, the more likely I won't get him back alive."
"You really love this man—this Anderson," Coach Jessops said.
Leo had no words for a reply.
"You be careful," Mildred told him. "I don't want to have to bury you."
Leo kissed her head but didn't say anything.
Chapter Sixteen
Everything was throbbing, starting from the very crown of Anderson's head to the tips of his toes. His head felt as though someone had held it under water then tossed him across a room. There was a burning sensation at the back of his neck but he lifted his head and tried to take a breath. Opening his eyes, Anderson tried looking around but the room was just too bright. Groaning, he tried moving his hands to cover his eyes but he couldn't. They were bound at the wrists against a cold, hard surface.
Anderson tugged at them because he knew what it all meant. It meant the man was going to use him as bait to get to Leo. He never thought he'd see the day when he got kidnapped because the man he was sleeping with was a cop and someone was out to get him. Either way, he had to get free and get out of there. There was no way he was going to let this joker get anywhere near Leo. But no matter how hard he tugged at the restraints, they wouldn't budge. Each movement jarred his body, sending pain shooting from his head down his spine. Anderson bit against his lower lip and held his breath.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed down and strained. The restraints cut into his wrist fierce
ly but didn't break. His chest heaved.
"You should stop that."
The voice sounded behind him. Anderson twisted his head as far as it would go to both sides but he couldn't see the face. He knew the voice though—it was so familiar to him. His hazy brain couldn't decipher from where. "Did you drug me?"
"Well, duh!" the man replied. "You wouldn't have come willingly."
"Man of understatement. What do you want?"
"For you all to die. Simple, right? Actually, that's what I want now. Before, my wants were only carnal."
The man stepped around then and Anderson frowned. "Daniel." Anderson's instinct told him to lurch forward and rip the man's head off and he tried forgetting he was tied down. His wrists snapped awkwardly forward and he cried out in pain. "You son-of-a-bitch!"
"Professor! Do you teach your students with that mouth? No wonder Leo likes you so much. You have the kind of mouth a man could get used to."
"Now you know what I can do with my mouth, why don't you untie me so I can show you what I can do with my fists?"
Daniel moved close to Anderson. For a moment, the cop just stood there staring at Anderson's face then down his neck. After a while, he caressed Anderson's cheek. He lifted Anderson's shirt and trailed a finger down his chest, over his defined abs, and stopped only at the waist of his pants. Though he tried arching away from the invasive finger, there was nowhere to go. Anderson felt dirty and violated.
"I'd much rather see what you can do with those beautiful lips."
Anderson shoved forward again but Daniel only laughed at his failure and stepped back.
"When I first met your father, I was a kid. He took me away from my father and sent him to jail. A month later he was dead—my dad, I mean. I had no one left in the world. Sure I was adopted by some wonderful people—but having your father dragged out of a courthouse kicking and screaming then having the same happen to you, changes a person."
"I'm playing the world's smallest violin for you."
Daniel growled and backhanded Anderson across the face leaving it throbbing along with his hurting head. Anderson grunted. "I'm the victim!" Daniel yelled.
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