City Knight 04 - Knights Out (CMS) (MM)

by T. A. Webb

  The water cut off, and in a few moments Marcus made his way into the bedroom, naked and toweling off his hair. God, but the man was a work of art. Yes, there were scars and blemishes and his hair was beginning to show traces of silver, but Marcus was mesmerizing. “I can feel you looking at me, you know.”

  Hitting the button that powered down his e-reader, Ben tossed it onto the nightstand. “Come over here, and you can feel more than my eyes worshipping all that…fuck, man. It’s a crime you have to wear clothes.”

  Marcus threw back his head and laughed. “I am never letting you go. You are so good for my ego.”

  “And you are good for my ass. And cock. Now get your sexy self in bed and talk to me.”

  Tossing the wet towel back toward the bathroom, Marcus stood with his hand on his hips and grinned. “Talk? You get all smexy with me and then all you want to do is talk?”

  Ben felt his jaw drop. “Smexy? Marcus, there is no way in hell you know what smexy means. What have you been doing, watching America’s Next Top Model again?”

  The blush that worked its way up Marcus’s neck and face was a wonder to behold. He mumbled something, then at Ben’s upraised eyebrow, sighed. “They have women and men on it this season, and honest to God, Benjamin, there are a couple of the guys on there that…well, you aren’t allowed to watch the show, let’s just leave it at that. I’d hate to have to lock you in the townhouse all day.”

  Ben felt the grin on his face widen. “Oh, yeah? And why would that be?”

  Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, clicked the lamp off and lay down, flipping the sheet over his hips. “Simple. That Tyra woman would want you to fly away to Los Angeles and be on her show, and they would have you in those tiny silk boxer shorts for everyone to see, and make you pose all bent over and showing your junk off and I would have to shoot everyone there and then they would arrest me and I would go to jail and nobody would be here to take care of you. So, see, if you just keep your clothes on and nobody sees you then nobody gets hurt.”

  He had no idea his man’s mind worked like that. It was fucking amazing. “You are a freak. I swear to God, the more you talk the harder I get, and I want to hear what Frankie had to say before you fuck my brains into Jell-O.”

  All the humor seemed to bleed out of Marcus, and Ben could feel him deflate. He reached over and linked his fingers with Marcus’s and waited. After a long moment and a couple of deep breaths, Marcus spoke. “My parents told Frankie I was shot and killed.”

  Oh. Ben knew the hurt, the evil that parents could inflict on their children, but this, this was unforgivable. His parents had kicked him out, cut him off from all contact with his family, and never spoke to him again. Ben was eighteen, and at the time considered himself strong. He was already enrolled in college, and while it was a pain in the ass to scramble around to rearrange his funding since the fuckers yanked their money at the last moment, he did it. But Marcus? Who could do that to him? And then to Frankie too? To tell him he was dead?

  Before he could say anything, Marcus plowed on. “He got my letter, and couldn’t get my parents to answer any other questions. Then, when he got back to the states, he demanded answers. They told him I was killed in a robbery and they didn’t want to ‘upset’ him while he was deployed. He wanted to go to my grave and they told him I was cremated and my ashes scattered.”

  He was doing this way too much lately. Too many people had hurt his lover, and he reached up and brushed wetness from Marcus’s eyes.

  “And to top it all off, they guilted Vanessa into backing up their nonsense. They told her the same bullshit story about me being dead so she fell for it hook, line and sinker, so when he felt it was his duty to marry her and make sure she had a good life, their whole God forsaken plan fell right into place. Oh, and since he looks so much like me and she still carried a bit of a torch for me, it seems, everyone was…happy. So she married him, had two kids, and went on with the lies. So many lies…”

  “Marcus…”

  “No, it’s okay. Just, I thought, see, here’s the thing. They can hurt me all they want, you know? But let it stop there. But they didn’t. You see? They tried to ruin Frankie’s life, and they used Vanessa. Then there are the kids, and they almost did it. But the lies came out.” Marcus turned on his side to face me. “Vanessa couldn’t take the lies anymore, and she told him last year. All of it. How I told her years ago I liked guys, and how we got married anyway until I couldn’t do it anymore. He asked our parents, and they denied it, of course, until he told them he was leaving and taking the kids and he was divorcing Vanessa. Evidently it went badly. Something about ungrateful kids, all that shit.”

  “Yeah, well, aren’t we all?”

  Marcus smiled, a weary and understanding gesture. “Well, the one little secret they didn’t tell him was that I wasn’t quite dead. So when he took the kids, moved here and started fresh, the last thing he thought he’d see was me.”

  Ben leaned over and kissed him, a chaste, gentle meeting of lips. “So now he knows everything? And is he okay with you being gay? And us being together?” In the back of his mind, he remembered the light, the joy in Marcus’s eyes when he was with his brother and especially those kids. If he had to, he’d bow out gracefully and let Marcus have them. He’d lived through heartbreak before, he could again.

  “It really doesn’t matter, but he liked you. And the kids loved you evidently. Turns out my baby brother, um, swings both ways. He hid it in the military and isn’t out at the precinct, but one of the bones of contention with our parents was when he outed himself to them because he was so pissed at them. I’m surprised they didn’t spill it all then, but I imagine their brains were blown.”

  Ben thought his own brain would melt a little at that. He opened his mouth to say something, and his cell rang. He debated, picked it up, and saw it was Wick. Frowning, he flicked it on and hit speaker. “Hello? Wick?”

  “Hey, baby. Whatcha wearin’?”

  Ben opened his mouth to answer, but Marcus beat him to it. “A smile and my load. What do you want?”

  His voice went all low and sultry. “To be the creamy center in your little cookie sandwich. Whadayasay, Marc? There room for one more in that big ass bed of yours?”

  Snickering, Ben grinned at the feral look on Marcus’s face. “Sure, Wickie-poo. If you can push Ned out of it long enough.”

  There was dead silence. “So that’s how it’s gonna be. Ben, honey, I have some news for you.”

  Chapter 6

  They stood together beside the cold drawer, waiting for the lab tech to pull it open and show Benjamin the remains. Marcus wouldn’t let him go to the morgue by himself that time of night, and even though Wick stood a few steps behind, just…no.

  Marcus nodded, and the drawer slid open on a sigh. It was nothing like was shown on television, and even though Marcus knew it and was prepared, his Benjamin wasn’t. He reached out and caught him just in time. The concrete floors were hard, and it would have hurt, although he knew Benjamin wouldn’t have felt it. The face was bruised and swollen, and the pale shoulders showed burns and cuts. It wasn’t the worst thing Marcus had ever seen—his years on the streets had hardened him to the worst that men could do to each other. But to see it on such a young face never stopped the bile from rising in his throat.

  “It’s him,” Benjamin said, his voice wobbling. “It’s Travis.”

  Wick’s voice was low and sorrowful from behind them. “Ben, I’m so, so sorry, love. I promised to look out for him for you and he skipped out on my guy watching him before I could get him settled in. If I’d known he was in any danger at all, other than just the street, you know I would have locked him up and not let this happen.”

  He watched as Benjamin reached out and laid a gentle hand against the boy’s cheek, wincing as he barely touched him. Then he turned and walked over to Wick and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I know.” Without turning back, he said, “Marcus, I’ll meet you outside. I…just need a minute alone.” He walke
d slowly to the door and it clicked behind him.

  Looking down at the boy, he wondered who did it. And then to leave him laid out in the alleyway, the very one Benjamin worked those short months ago, naked and beaten to death…it made him nauseated. That this could happen to anyone was evil. Vile. But this kid was barely five-six and a hundred pounds. Another throwaway. And all Marcus could see was his young nephew, and niece. His little brother. The faces he just rediscovered and were so tenuously in his life, and they could be snatched away so fucking easily.

  He didn’t realize he was gripping the end of the drawer so tightly he’d cut himself until Wick wrapped his arms around him and pulled him away. Then he was turned and found himself in a hug, and he was gasping for air and holding on for dear life.

  “It’s okay, Marc. Get it out before you have to go be strong for Ben. He’s gonna need you. And God knows I’m not good at any of this touchy feely bullshit.” Which was a lie, but since he appreciated his old friend so much, he wouldn’t call him on it. Not tonight. Tonight, he’d take comfort without question or complaint and let his first lover believe all the bad things he chose about himself. Another night, he’d pour the tequila and get drunk and then they could rip the bandages off the old lies, but for now, he’d let Wick put him together so he could do the same for the man he loved.

  When the worst of it passed, he laid a kiss against Wick’s neck, ignoring the shudder that made him smile and regain a little of his own bravo, and whispered a quick thanks and love you, and heard the yeah, yeah back, all the while never letting each other go. When he did straighten to leave, Wick stopped him with a hand on his arm. “There was something left on his body. It was a page from a bible, Leviticus 18. The part about not lying with a man like a woman. And a key. Babe, it looks like a regulation handcuff key.”

  Marcus could only shake his head. Sick fucker. Like that gave him an excuse to do that to this boy. “I don’t know what it all means, Wick.”

  “Me either, but I have a really bad feeling about it. Go home, take care of your man. Call me if you need me.”

  Just before he got to the door, Marcus turned. “Any word on Nick? I know it’s not really your job, but anything you might have heard about his disappearance?”

  His eyes tired, Wick shook his head. “Nothing. But something tells me we’ll know something soon. Bad things come in threes, you know?”

  “Come to dinner tomorrow, will you? I have some good news to share, and you of all people will probably get a kick out of it.”

  “Do I have to dress?” Wick grinned.

  “No shoes, no shorts, no service.”

  “Damn. I just want to see the look on Bennie-boy’s face when I show up at your door buck nekkid.”

  “You show that thing to my Benjamin, you will be going back home without it,” Marcus growled, only half kidding.

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Hey, Wick?” Marcus smiled.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  Marcus saw the tips of his ears redden. “Shut the fuck up and go get Honey Bear before I do.”

  “Good night. And thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. I failed him.” Wick’s shoulders were slumped.

  “No, you didn’t. Even the mighty Wicked Q. Templeton can’t win them all.”

  Wick’s jaw dropped. “No. You do not know my middle name.”

  Marcus gave him and evil grin. “You aren’t the only one with mad skills.”

  “If you tell anyone, I will kill you.”

  “Goodnight, Wick.”

  Marcus closed the door and made his way to the elevator to take them back up to the ground floor. The morgue was cold and lonely, and his steps echoed through the lonely halls. There, sitting on the small metal bench next to the elevator, was Benjamin. He looked lost, like a part of him was missing. He stared off into nowhere, and only shifted when Marcus sat beside him and leaned against him. “Let’s go home.”

  Benjamin nodded tiredly and rose when Marcus stood and hit the call button. “Marcus?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “That kid never hurt anyone. I’d lay my life on it. Why?”

  Marcus shook his head. “Why? Because he could. Because different is something to hate. Because he’s sick and hateful and evil and goddammit, Benjamin, do you see now why I go so crazy about you being out on the streets? When that could have happened to you? And I think about that asshole that night, trying to pull you into his car and if I hadn’t been there? It could have been you on that slab. You beaten to death. You with nobody to care. You…”

  “But it wasn’t.” Benjamin grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. “I have you. But poor Travis, he didn’t have anyone. Marcus, if his parent’s won’t take his body, I’m going to bury him myself.”

  “I think that’s beautiful, baby.”

  “I’d like to think if something had happened to me that night, you might have done the same for me.” Benjamin brought his hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles.

  His throat was clenched shut, and he couldn’t say the words. Instead, Marcus rubbed their hands against Benjamin’s cheek and hoped he knew. That he’d die for him.

  *

  Ben wasn’t sure he was up to hosting a huge dinner thing, so he called out for Chinese after calling Frankie to find out what the kids liked. He wasn’t sure how it would work, having Marcus’s brother and his kids meeting Wick. It could be a barrel of monkeys, a boatload of fun, or, he guessed, he could unlock Marcus’s gun safe and shoot the mouthy bastard. What possessed Marcus to invite Wick over he’d never know.

  Damned if he and Marcus weren’t going to sit down and talk about that relationship. And soon.

  He stood at the dining room table, making sure he had everything they might need. Marcus was still in the shower when the buzzer rang. He’d already been downstairs and filled Charlie, the building attendant, in on the night’s activities. Someone else had reserved the rooftop garden or he’d have had the dinner up there. That way, he could have shoved Wick off the edge of the building if he misbehaved in front of the children. But…maybe next time, he thought.

  Making his way to the door, he was happy to see it was Frankie and the kids. He was even more surprised when little Marcus shouted Uncle Ben and grabbed him by leg, and Amanda gave him a shy smile and reached up to be held. “Looks like you have a fan club there, Benjamin.” Frankie stuck his hand out, and Ben shifted Amanda onto his left hip and stepped back, a little stiff legged with Marcus clinging to his left leg, and shook hands.

  “It’s good to see you guys again. But I better warn you about something. Marcus is a little—“

  “Marcus is a little what, love?” Ben turned and had to take in a steadying breath. Marcus stood there, hair still damp and finger combed in an APD tee shirt and jeans and barefooted. He had to stop and think of ugly things so his cock would calm down, and then he looked up into Frankie’s matching grin, and had to close his eyes.

  “Yeah, Benjamin, my brother is a little what?

  He heard the growl and sighed. “Jealous. He thinks he’s the only one who can call me Benjamin, so unless you want him growly like a bear, please call me Ben.”

  “Benjamin it is then.”

  “Does that go for me too, honey?” Oh, yeah. Perfect timing. Of course Wick would pick that moment to arrive.

  “Wick,” Marcus snapped. “Don’t start with me.”

  At the silence, Ben opened his eyes to see Wick staring back and forth between Marcus and Frankie. This was gonna be fun. “Oh, Wick. Meet Frankie Prater. Marcus’s brother. And this is Marcus and Amanda. Feel free to shut your mouth before bugs fly in.”

  “Yeah,” little Marcus piped in, looking up at Wick. “You look silly standing there with your mouth open. Are you a special kid like my friend Danny? We aren’t allowed to say retarded, because it hurts his feelings and isn’t nice, and I like him. Are you special too?”

  Wick’s jaw snapped shut and he stared hard at Ben. “
Not. One. Word. You either, Marcus, or so help me God, you will never get cell service or an internet signal again. And no, little man,” he said to Marcus, “I’m not special. Although I could be. Hello there, big guy. So what the hell’s in the water where you and Marcus are from? Cause if I had a brother like that—“

  “And this is why we don’t let him out of the house without a keeper. Wick. Kids present. Gun safe in the other room and I know the combination. Now, Marcus, big man, how about you take your brother and this…special guy in and grab a beer. I’ll watch out for the delivery boy.”

  They made their way in, and Ben took the kids into the kitchen to grab some juice. He’d already bought sippy cups at Frankie’s suggestion, and juice, and he had them set up and ready just as the door buzzed again. This time, he had one kid grabbing at each leg as he answered the door and led the guy inside. After checking the order and paying, he peeled the kids off and let the man back out, then called for everyone to come to the dining room.

  After saying grace, at little Marcus’s insistence and Ben’s amusement (Marcus had demanded Wick sit by him and showed him how to hold his hands just right and bow his head, while Ben took out his camera and snapped a quick picture and texted it to Jeremiah), the crowd dug in. The three other men had started talking shop—it seemed Ben was doomed to be around law enforcement for the rest of his days—and Ben tuned in and out.

  Until he heard something that rang a bell, and not a good one.

  “Can you say that again, Frankie? You found what?” Ben tried to keep the strain out of his voice, but Marcus looked concerned.

  Glancing at the kids, who were talking to each other and nibbling at eggrolls and lo mein, Frankie shrugged and turned to Ben. “Sure. Like I was saying, we found a burned out 68 VW van, one of those Scooby Doo-mobiles, you know? John Doe was handcuffed to the steering wheel, no ID, nothing to identify the van. Plates were missing, and we’re trying to run the VIN, but parts of it are missing. The strange thing about it was—“