by Carol Lynne
“You went to O’Brien’s?” Jessup couldn’t believe Priest would be so careless.
“Me? No. Priest went into town for me.” Brac moved the uneaten tray of food out of the way before setting the tacos in front of him.
“I can only imagine the attention Priest received in town.”
“Yeah, sounds like he caused quite a stir.” Brac started to reach for Jessup but quickly pulled his hand back. “He’s downstairs, by the way. You want me to get him?”
“No.” Craving the man’s touch, Jessup lifted Brac’s hand from the mattress and pressed it to his mouth. He took his time kissing Brac’s palm before clutching the hand to his chest. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I missed you.”
Brac leant over and sealed his lips over Jessup’s.
With a hungry groan, Jessup reached up and buried his fingers in Brac’s soft curls. He forced his way into Brac’s mouth and proceeded to plunder the warm orifice with his tongue.
The way his cock reacted to the kiss, Jessup had no doubt of his staying power when it came to Brac. However, even though his dick was up to the challenge, the rest of his body wasn’t. He was forced to break the kiss long before he wanted to. Jessup tried to draw in a few good breaths. “Sorry. I get winded for some reason.”
“Don’t apologise. That kiss would’ve taken anyone’s breath away.” Brac ruffled Jessup’s short hair. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“No. I know I’ve been sending mixed signals.”
“You have, but I haven’t been very patient with you either.”
Still holding Brac’s hand, Jessup moved them down his body to press against his erection. “Hopefully that’s not a mixed signal.”
Brac grinned. “Nope. I understand that one perfectly.” Brac released Jessup’s hand and lifted the sheet far enough to reach underneath.
Jessup felt his idiotic hospital gown being lifted seconds before a warm hand wrapped around his cock. Thank God he’d got them to remove the catheter the evening before. With his hand free, Jessup reached for the front of Brac’s cargo shorts. “Seems you’re suffering from the same condition.”
“That I am.” Brac glanced over his shoulder towards the closed door. “Hang on.” He released Jessup’s cock and carried the chair to the door. With a devilish grin, Brac wedged the chair under the handle. “That should do it.” Returning to Jessup’s side, Brac unzipped his shorts and let them fall to his ankles before flipping the sheet back to expose Jessup’s cock.
Instead of paying attention to Jessup’s dripping erection, Brac’s gaze fell to the bandaged area on his torso. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Jessup felt the cock in his hand start to go soft as Brac continued to stare at the wound left from the gunshot and subsequent kidney removal. Jessup applied pressure to the cock in his hand. “I’m fine, honest.”
“It’s still hard for me to believe someone could hate me enough to kill me. Especially because I’ve never done anything mean to anyone, so I can only assume my sexuality’s the reason.”
“Have you ever received fan mail that made you uncomfortable?” Jessup asked.
Brac continued to slowly pump Jessup’s cock. “Not really. When I first came out, I had some whack jobs email me and stuff, but for the most part my fans have been incredibly supportive.” Brac slowed his hand as his expression changed. “I did get one disturbing email about a year ago. It was from a Private First Class that I corresponded with several times. He was stationed in Iraq and miserable from the sound of it.”
“He was gay?” Jessup couldn’t imagine being forced to hide his sexuality from the very people he had to trust enough to fight beside.
“Yeah, although he was completely in the closet, even at home. I guess he just needed someone to talk to, so we began emailing a couple times a week. Then one day I received a handwritten letter from him instead of an email. It was the first letter I’d received so I don’t know if his handwriting was usually as sloppy, but it was hard to read.”
“What did the letter say?” An uneasy feeling began to creep its way up Jessup’s spine.
“That I’d ruined everything and he hated me. Of course I’m paraphrasing, but it all boiled down to that.” Brac’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s the last time I heard from him. I wondered about him for a while, but then Kit moved next door, and I had other things to do besides dwell on a guy who believed I’d done something to ruin his life.”
“Do you remember anything about him? His name? Where he was from? Anything?”
“Sure do. It’s the reason his email caught my attention in the first place, S. Hostetler, but instead of Simon, the S stood for Steven.”
Jessup nodded, remembering Brac’s given name was Simon Hostetler. “Any idea where he was from?”
“Lincoln, Nebraska. We talked a couple of times about how different life was growing up in the Midwest.”
Jessup rubbed the head of Brac’s cock with his thumb. “Would you mind if I try to get in touch with him?”
“He couldn’t have been the shooter,” Brac started to argue. “He was confused, but he was a good guy.”
“War has a way of changing people and not always for the better,” Jessup said.
A loud knock sounded, making Brac jump. He quickly pulled up his shorts and threw the sheet back over Jessup’s lap.
“Who is it?” Jessup yelled, pissed that someone would interrupt his handjob.
“It’s time for your pain medicine. Why’s this door locked?”
Jessup rolled his eyes. “It’s Nancy. She’s my least favourite nurse.” He pulled Brac in for another quick kiss. “Do me a favour and go find Priest while I make this woman happy.”
“Not too happy, I hope.”
The mental image made Jessup shiver from head to toe. “Don’t even go there. The woman makes Mussolini look like a happy puppy.”
The knock came again, with more force. “Mr Jessup. Open this door or I’ll have to call security.”
“She’s serious,” Jessup mumbled.
“I’ll unlock the door and slip out before she has a chance to string me up then.” Brac brushed another kiss across Jessup’s lips. “Be back in a few.”
Brac unlocked the door and jumped back as Nancy pushed her way inside. Her face was so red Jessup expected her to keel over any second. She stopped in front of Brac and narrowed her eyes. “You’re that actor.”
“Yes, ma’am. I didn’t want to take the chance of a photographer following me in here so I locked the door. I hope I haven’t caused a problem.”
Right before Jessup’s eyes a miracle occurred. Nancy’s face transformed from the dour bitch who’d begun to haunt his every waking moment, to a…fan girl?
“Oh, that’s okay, Mr Riesling. I completely understand. I didn’t know that you knew Mr Jessup,” Nancy fawned.
Brac glanced over and met Jessup’s gaze, his dazzling smile on full display. “We’re very close. I would really appreciate it if you would take extra good care of him while he’s here.”
“Oh, of course. I would be honoured.”
Jessup rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how fake people could be around someone just because they were on TV. He glanced at the uneaten tacos on his tray. No doubt Nancy would scold him and try to take them away as soon as she pulled her head out of Brac’s ass. “Brac brought me some tacos. Isn’t that nice, Nancy?”
The nurse’s lips thinned momentarily before pulling back in yet another fake smile. “That was very kind of you, although I don’t believe Mr Jessup is supposed to have anything not on his approved diet.”
Brac put his hands together and looked pleadingly at Nancy. “Please just this once. I wanted to do something special for him and couldn’t think of anything but giving him tacos from his favourite place in the world.”
Nancy shook her finger at Brac. “You know just how to get to me. Okay, the tacos can stay, but just this once.”
Brac leant forward and kissed the nurse on the cheek. “You’re
the best nurse ever!”
It was official, Brac had totally lost his mind. Before Mr Crazy could leave and Nancy had a chance to renege on her deal, Jessup pulled the tray back over and started devouring the cold, soggy tacos. Even in their present state they tasted better than anything he’d been given at the hospital.
“Well, I’d better go, but I’ll be back in a bit,” Brac called, easing his way out into the hall.
Jessup finished his first taco in three bites before starting on the next. He pulled the tray closer to his chest when Nancy started his way.
“You’re lucky I like him,” she muttered, handing Jessup a small paper cup with his pills.
“Yes, I guess I am,” he answered before taking another bite.
* * * *
Priest helped ease Jessup onto the soft leather seats of the Range Rover. “You good?”
It had been almost six days since the shooting, and Jessup felt worse than he had the day he’d woken up in the hospital. The doctor had explained that the muscle he’d cut through to remove the damaged kidney would take a while to heal, but damn.
Priest pressed a button on the side of the seat and thankfully his bed for the next hour smoothly reclined. “I may never leave this vehicle.”
“I doubt the rental company will be happy about that once you start stinking.” Priest chuckled at his own joke before shutting the passenger door.
Jessup waited to speak until Priest got behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot. “What’s different about you?”
Priest lifted his hand off the steering wheel and pretended to study it. “Nope, still black.” He leaned over and glanced at his reflection in the rear view mirror. “And still good looking. I can’t imagine what you could be referring to.”
“This? The happy-go-lucky bullshit. Please don’t tell me Brac has worked his magic on you, too.” For the remainder of his stay in the hospital, Nancy had made it a point to take special care of him, each time inquiring as to when Brac would be back to visit.
“He’s a good guy. It’s been a while since I’ve been subjected to one of those. Maybe it’s rubbing off,” Priest explained.
“Gee, thanks,” Jessup mumbled. He started to close his eyes but suddenly thought of something. “Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with you getting laid, does it?”
“I’ve kept your boy’s cherry intact if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I seriously doubt Brac’s had his cherry for some time now.”
Priest shook his finger from side to side. “Aahhh, but until I’ve fucked them, they’re still officially a virgin.”
Jessup let his eyes drift shut. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, stud.” He didn’t know what Brac had done to cheer up his usually ornery friend, but he had to admit the new Priest was a hell of a lot more fun to be around. “How did Brac take the news of Steve’s suicide?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“Hard. I think he’s blaming himself. He tried to call the boy’s family, but the listed number’s been disconnected.”
“I wonder why?” The whole situation didn’t feel right. “Have you dug up anything on the family?”
“Basic search stuff. His mom, Beth, died of a heart attack shortly before Steve hung himself. His dad, Curtis, sold the family home and moved to parts unknown.”
Jessup’s eyes sprang open. “That’s a lot for one man to handle in such a short time. You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Already a step ahead of you, as usual. I called home on the way here and asked Alice to put a trace on Curtis’ social security number. If he’s moved, she’ll find him.”
As far as Jessup knew, Priest was the only operative to call headquarters home. He assumed it was because Alice was the closest thing to a mother Priest had ever had. Jessup closed his eyes again as the pain medicine began to kick in. “Wake me when we get there.”
Chapter Seven
Brac spread his favourite blanket and lay down before tucking the ridiculous handgun between his legs. He hadn’t bothered to bring the fishing pole, wanting nothing more than to feel the afternoon sun on his face for a while.
“I’ve been watching you,” a gruff voice said.
Brac sat straight up and turned to find an older man step out of the brush. After Priest had filled him in on Steve’s suicide, he knew exactly who the man was. Although having a rifle pointed at him was enough to scare the shit out of him, it was the red laser sight on top that Brac knew cemented his fate. “Mr Hostetler?”
“Don’t you say my name, boy,” Curtis spat. “I came to make things right. I’ve waited for this chance for days, and I finally saw that big fella leave, so I’m taking it.”
Brac held up his hands to draw Curtis’ attention away from the gun hidden between his legs. He’d known he was taking a chance coming out to the pond after Priest had left, so he’d found one of Jessup’s guns and had brought it with him. Damn, was he glad of his moment of paranoia.
“Please, sir. I’m sorry about Steve. I truly am, but I was just trying to be a friend to him when it seemed he needed one.”
“Yeah, well that friendship cost him everything. You filled his head with all kinds of queer bullshit. Had him believing he was one of you.”
“He was,” Brac whispered. “He was just afraid to tell you.”
Curtis shook his head. “You’re lying. Steven told me he reached out to you because you were a famous guy and you used that to send him vile emails. Surely you can’t be stupid enough to think the government doesn’t monitor what goes in and out to their troops.”
Confused, Brac tried to remember the content of the messages. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not true. I only encouraged Steve to reach out to the people he loved and trusted. Never would I send anything sexual in nature to a fan.”
“Liar!” Curtis screamed.
“Maybe the emails he received were from someone else. Perhaps someone he met online? I know there are a lot of sites out there that offer that sort of thing to men in the military.”
Curtis began shaking his head again, mumbling to himself. Brac used the opportunity to ease his hands down between his legs. He managed to get the safety off the gun, before Curtis came back to himself.
“My Steven wasn’t like that. He was devastated when the Army sent him home.”
“I’m sorry. I remember how highly Steve spoke of the Army and his part in the war effort.” Brac needed to keep Curtis talking. Having a gun in his hand was one thing, but he honestly didn’t think he had it in him to shoot someone. Priest had been gone at least an hour and a half. If he could keep Curtis talking for another thirty minutes or so…
“Turn around,” Curtis ordered.
Brac squeezed the butt of the gun. Please don’t make me shoot you. “Do you think Steve would really want you to kill me? I’m sure he’d tell you the truth if he could. I promise you I didn’t send him the emails that got him discharged.”
“I said turn around!” Curtis yelled, waving the rifle.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Time’s up, he told himself. He jerked his head in the direction of the house. “Did you hear that? I think Priest’s back. You’d better go if you want to live.”
“Live?” Curtis began to cackle. “I’ve been half dead since my wife and boy died. The only thing keeping me going was putting things to rights with you. When I saw that report on the news about you being in this cesspool of a town, I used the last of my money to get here. You really think I care anything about living after I do to you what you did to my son?”
“I didn’t kill your son, Mr Hostetler. If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself. Maybe if you’d been open enough for Steve to come to you to discuss his homosexuality he wouldn’t have had to seek strangers out online.”
Curtis’ face went pale. It seemed it wasn’t the first time he had heard it. “Did Steve tell you that before he killed himself, Mr Hostetler? Did he blame you in some way? Is that the reason you’ve gone looking for someone else to blame?”
/>
Of course Brac knew the only one ultimately at fault for Steve’s death was Steve himself, but at the moment he’d try anything to get that fucking rifle pointed away from him.
“No! It’s you. You started all of this. If he hadn’t been discharged he’d still be alive.”
“And he’d still be gay,” Brac reminded the older man. “As I see it, I’m the one person in his life who tried to help him work through his feelings. And this is the way to repay me for trying to be a true friend to Steve? Do you really think I deserve to die for doing what you couldn’t bring yourself to do? I accepted Steve. Why couldn’t you?”
With a roar, Curtis lifted the rifle to his shoulder. Brac lifted the handgun and tried to turn around to get a clean shot, but by the time he took aim, Curtis was already falling to the ground, face first with a hole between his eyes.
Priest stepped out of the trees, a silencer-equipped handgun still smoking at his side. “We’re back,” he announced in a casual tone.
* * * *
“Are they gone?” Brac asked Priest.
“Yeah. Finally.” Priest fell to the couch and closed his eyes. “That’s exactly the reason I don’t usually stick around after a hit. I never understood it. The guy was bad, he needed to be stopped, end of story. Why the hell do cops think everything has to be investigated?”
“Ummm, I’m guessing it’s because it’s their job.”
“Bullshit. Their job is to make sure the bad guys don’t get out of control in the first place.”
Brac got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. “I would usually take great joy in disagreeing with you, but being as you’re my hero today, I’m gonna give you this one. Thanks for saving my life.”
“Hell, it wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter. You’ve kinda started to grow on me.”
Brac grinned. “I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Well, I’m in a good mood. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Brac laughed and bumped Priest’s knee with his leg. “I’m going up to bed. See you in the morning.”