Dead Silent (Cold Case Psychic Book 3)

by Pandora Pine

  “Damn!” Ronan whistled. “Where the hell did you get that?” He fisted his lubed cock faster.

  “Client sent it to me after I told him to chase his dream of becoming a professional bull rider.”

  “You’re shitting me!” Ronan laughed.

  Ten shook his head. “He sent this to me after he won his first championship. This is the first time I’ve ever worn it.”

  “Get your ass over here, cowboy.” Ronan crooked his finger at Ten.

  Ten grinned and sidled up to the bed. He helped himself to the lube and propped a foot up on the bed before quickly going to work loosening himself up for his ride. His eyes stayed on Ronan’s hand as it continued to fist his slicked cock.

  When Ten was just ready enough, he straddled Ronan, his ass hovering over Ronan’s erection. He couldn’t help wishing again there was a camera to take a picture of this moment.

  Ronan settled his hands on Ten’s hips, his fingers digging into the hot flesh. Their eyes were locked together as Tennyson brought his ass down. Shivering when his hot hole encountered the cool lube slathered over Ronan’s cock, Ten pushed down.

  Both men moaned in concert when Ronan pushed through the tight ring of muscle. “Damn, Ronan.”

  “Thought you were gonna ride me, cowboy.” Ronan’s grin was a mile wide.

  Bracing his left hand against Ronan’s sternum, Ten forced himself down the rest of the way. He tipped his head back and shut his eyes, enjoying the stretch and burn as his body accommodated Ronan.

  “Fuck me, you’re gorgeous like this,” Ronan whispered.

  “It’s the hat, isn’t it?” Ten felt sexy wearing it.

  “It’s you, Ten. You blow my mind every time I look at you. I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

  Ten looked up at the ceiling to give himself a minute to blink the emotion away. There would be time to think about that later. This wasn’t what they were here for now.

  Ten pushed his legs open a bit wider, angling his hips so that Ronan would bump against his prostate with every thrust. Dropping Ronan what he hoped was a sexy wink, he levered himself up Ronan’s shaft, before bringing himself back down again. It took a few tries to find his rhythm, but once he did, he knew the ride wasn’t going to last long. Eight seconds made you a winner in bull riding, but Ten planned on staying on longer than that.

  Ronan’s hands dug in deeper to Ten’s hips. He used his strength to direct Ten’s ass down harder and faster. The only sound in the room was the slapping of flesh and the harsh breaths each of them were gasping to take.

  Lifting his hand off Ronan’s chest, Ten threw it high in the air, like he’d seen his professional bull riding client do. It swayed back and forth as Ten bounced up and down on Ronan’s cock. Amazingly enough, the hat stayed on too.

  Ten could feel himself nearing his end. The urge to grab his cock and stroke himself to the finish line was nearly overwhelming, but he wanted so badly for Ronan’s cock to bring him off. Every time Ronan’s dick slid past his prostate, stars burst behind his eyes. He wanted to close them so badly and focus only on those feelings, bringing them closer until they exploded like fireworks on the Fourth of July, but Ronan was staring at him like he was the last man alive and Ten couldn’t bring himself to be that selfish.

  “Come on, Ten.” Ronan growled. “You know you’re close. You know you want to come all over me.”

  Ten whimpered. Fuck, he wanted that more than his next breath.

  “Ride me harder!” Ronan urged. His voice was pitched low, but to Ten, it was almost like he was shouting from the stands, urging him on in front of a capacity crowd.

  Crying out, Ten fucked Ronan harder, his ass pounded faster, the friction ramped up making his prostate feel like it was vibrating. Ten was right on the edge. A few more strokes and he would be there. It was like a bull ride. Eight seconds to go. Just a few more strokes. Six seconds. A few more hard slaps of skin on skin and he’d be there. Four seconds. Ronan’s fingers dug harder into Ten’s hips. Two seconds. Ten felt every muscle in his body tense. His cock hardened that tiny bit more. “RONAN!”

  A string of sticky release ripped from Ten’s slit to land against his neck and face. At the same time, Ten heard Ronan shouting his name and felt his cock jerk deep inside of him and start to pulse. Ronan wrapped a hand around Ten’s spewing cock, angling it so the bursts of cream continued to hit Ten’s upper chest and neck.

  When Ten’s cock finally stopped jerking in Ronan’s hand, he realized his right arm was still up in the air like an eager student wanting to answer a question in class.

  “Holy cow, that hat!” Ronan was still gasping for breath.

  “Holy cow, good or holy cow, bad?” Ten put his arm down and tried to lever himself off of Ronan.

  “Both, I think. You know neither one of us is going to be able to walk in the morning, right?”

  “I call that a victory!” Ten slid off the bed and stumbled for a step or two before regaining his balance. “Okay, maybe not a victory for my rubbery legs then.” He bent at the waist and tried to catch his breath. “I’m gonna turn on the shower. You want to join me?”

  “If I can walk. If not, just make sure the funeral director does my hair right.” Ronan started to laugh.

  Ten was about to tell Ronan he’d make sure the stylist took it easy on the blush too, but Ronan’s ringing phone beat him to the punchline.

  “Oh shit, the call is from Portsmouth Regional Hospital.” Ronan was frowning at the caller ID on his phone.

  “Do you think it’s Vann and Broughan?” Ten asked, his heart sinking.

  Ronan shook his head no. “Detective O’Mara.”

  Ten hurried into the bathroom, quickly wetting a washcloth and cleaning off his own drying release. He had a bad feeling he and Ronan weren’t going to be taking a long leisurely shower together right now or be drifting off to dreamland together any time soon.

  When he walked back into the bedroom, Ronan was standing in his underwear and going through the closet.

  “What happened?”

  “Get dressed. Guess who had a family reunion worthy of The Jerry Springer Show?” Ronan shook his head.

  “The Owens family?” Ten couldn’t help wondering why. They all hated each other.

  Ronan nodded and pulled on a blue button down. “Yup. Apparently Hope and Shawn threw down and managed to each get in a few good shots before the Portsmouth PD broke it up.”

  What Ten would give to see an instant replay of that. Oh well, he was going to get the next best thing. An eyewitness account in their own words.

  20

  Ronan

  “How did the hospital know to call you tonight?” Ten asked as Ronan was pulling the Mustang into a parking spot at Portsmouth Regional Hospital over an hour later.

  The Owens’ names are flagged in the system under our open murder investigation, so when the arresting officers ran their names, up popped mine as the officer of record. The cops asked one of the nurses to give me a call since they were busy trying to keep the peace between the siblings.

  “Unbelievable,” Ten muttered.

  Ronan agreed. He’d never had much of a family. It had only been him and his mother, Erin. Oddly enough, his mother hadn’t come from a big Irish family. She’d been an only child who’d been close to her parents growing up. That had continued with Ronan. His grandparents had helped him and Erin out the best they could, but both of them had passed away by the time Ronan was ten years old.

  Ronan’s father was out of his life before he could walk. John O’Mara’s people never accepted Ronan into their family after he’d split town. Ronan had never known his other grandparents or his slew of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Years later, once he was a member of the BPD, he’d done a search on the O’Mara’s of Quincy, Massachusetts and found out his father had been in and out of jail for petty crimes. The same had gone for his father’s brothers and one of his sisters.

  Looking at the situation with the Owens family, Ronan couldn’t help thinkin
g this was the exact kind of thing that would have happened with the O’Maras if he’d been unlucky enough to have grown up with them. It made him love and appreciate his mother all the more.

  “Hey,” Tennyson nudged Ronan’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Ronan shook his head. “Yeah, I was just thanking God I never knew my father’s family growing up. I think not having a family is better than dealing with family drama like this.”

  “Maybe. Come on. Let’s go see how bad this is.” Ten opened his door and hopped out of the car.

  Ronan and his mother had their moments. They disagreed like any mother and son, but he’d always felt that since they were all each other had making up was always a priority. Erin O’Mara was never one of those mothers who always thought she was right just because she was the parent. More often than not, she was the one apologizing to Ronan for being short-tempered or out of sorts.

  Walking into the ER, Ronan spotted a uniformed officer from the Portsmouth Police Department. He reached into his pocket for his badge. “I’m Ronan O’Mara from the Boston Police Department.” He flashed the officer his shield.

  “Thank Christ you’re here.” The officer, whose name badge read Rigetti, rolled his eyes.

  “This is my partner, Tennyson Grimm.” Ronan hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Tennyson.

  “What did we miss?” Ten asked with a grin.

  “It was like Friday Night Fights.” Rigetti laughed. “The brother and sister were going at each other like it was Mayweather versus McGregor and I gotta tell you, the sister was holding her own. Then it really got crazy.”

  Ronan grimaced. “Wait, what do you mean then it got crazy?”

  “The sister-in-law took a swing at the mother-in-law,” Rigetti said quietly.

  Tennyson’s mouth dropped open. “No, she didn’t.”

  “Oh, yes she did. The old lady hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, but then she went after the woman’s knees.”

  “Oh, shit.” Ronan snorted. “How many of them did you arrest?” He hated to ask, but had a feeling he already knew the answer.

  “All four of them. The worst part of the story was that the daughter, Ophelia, was there. She saw the whole thing. She refused to come to the hospital. We have officers at the house with her now. She said she is going to stay with a friend once she gives her statement.”

  “That poor kid.” Ten shook his head.

  “Do you have any idea what this is all about or why they were all together?” Ronan asked.

  “It’s Shawn’s birthday and Ophelia wanted the whole family to be together again since it had been so long,” Rigetti said.

  As crazy as it felt thinking it, that actually made sense. Ronan softened his stance toward Shawn and Debbie for actually reaching out and inviting Hope and Maxine for their daughter’s sake. Unfortunately, that’s where Ronan’s charitable thoughts ended. All four adults throwing down like it was WWE Smackdown, involving the police, and ending up in the emergency room wasn’t what responsible adults did at a family reunion, especially when the reason for the reunion was a twenty-one-year-old college senior who just wanted to see her family put back together again.

  Ronan pulled Tennyson aside. “Ten, why don’t you take Maxine and Hope? I’ll meet with Shawn and Debbie. Take notes on everything they tell you. Take photographs of their injuries if they seem agreeable. Use your instincts to figure out if they’re telling you the truth or selling you a line of shit, okay?”

  Ten nodded.

  “We’ll meet up later and compare notes.” Ronan had a feeling that was going to be half the fun.

  “What’s going to happen to them all?” Ten asked.

  “Sounds like they’re all going to spend the night in jail unless their injuries are severe enough for them to have to stay here overnight.”

  “I guess this makes the silent treatment my parents gave me kind of pale in comparison.” Ten grinned.

  Ronan gave Ten’s hand a squeeze. “You’re gonna do great.” He headed off with Rigetti toward the room where Shawn Owens was being held.

  “Mr. Owens, fancy meeting you here,” Ronan said by way of greeting.

  “Jesus Christ, get out!” Shawn yelled.

  Ronan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Shawn had gotten his ass handed to him by Hope. His left eye was blackened and swollen to the point of being nearly shut. The nurse was applying a bandage to what looked like road rash on his right cheek and there was a gash on his left jaw that was going to need stitches for sure. “Sorry, sir, can’t do that. I need to interview you.”

  “You’re not with the Portsmouth Police Department,” Debbie sniped from the corner of the room. She was sitting in a wheelchair with her right knee raised and wrapped. An ice pack sat on top of the bandage.

  Well, give that lady a prize. It took all of Ronan’s self-control not to roll his eyes at the grandmother-bashing bitch. “You’re right, I’m not, but don’t you find it odd that the Boston Police Department reopens Harold’s murder investigation and two weeks after we interview the four of you, you’re all fighting like this is Caesars Palace?”

  Debbie was the one to roll her eyes. She snorted and folded her arms over her stomach.

  Ronan turned back to Shawn. “What happened tonight?” He pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and started shooting pictures of Debbie’s knee and then of Shawn’s facial injuries.

  Shawn’s one good eye narrowed at Ronan. “It’s my birthday. Ophelia’s been bugging me to invite my mother and sister up to see her for years now. Especially since they’re the ones paying for her college.”

  “I thought you said it was your mother who put the trust aside for her. What does your sister have to do with it?” Ronan pulled out his notebook and pen.

  “My sister pays for her clothes and car. I sure as shit can’t afford that.” Shawn winced when the nurse applied something to the injury on his jaw.

  Call him crazy, but none of that sounded like reasons to start beating the shit out of his sister and mother. “So what happened to start the fight?”

  “We called out for pizza and ate cake. It was fine. We talked about stupid shit while we ate. Ophelia talked about college and what she wants to do after graduation. She asked for more money in the trust so she could go to some fancy design school in California and my mother agreed. Asked her to email the information about the school so she could read about it online. My sister said if she got accepted, they’d fly out together to look at dorms and apartments together. Jesus Christ, you think those two bitches asked us if we wanted to come along?”

  “That’s our daughter,” Debbie said bitterly. “We should be invited too.”

  Ronan had a feeling the reason why Ophelia chose a design school in California was to get away from her parents, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. “Did you ask if you could come on the trip too?” Ronan asked mildly.

  Shawn’s face darkened. “Yes, and my sister laughed at me. She said of course we could come. All we had to do was pay for our own airfare and hotel room.”

  “Bitches!” Debbie grumped.

  “Is that what started the fight?” Ronan had a feeling if they got into every little insult, they’d be here all night.

  “No. Ophelia interrupted with my presents. She got me a gift card to a restaurant and then she handed me cards from my mother and sister. They felt light, so I assumed there were checks inside. You know, big fat checks. The kind with lots of zeros. After the insurance payments they got on my father, there should have been a bunch of zeros.”

  In that moment, Ronan felt like he was psychic. There was no check in either card with lots of zeros. There were no checks at all.

  “Bitches just signed those damn cards with hearts. No gift cards inside. No money orders. No checks. No fucking I. O. U.s!” Shawn roared.

  The nurse, looking terrified, abandoned her gauze and antiseptic gel and walked out of the room.

  “Can you fucking believe that?” Debbie yelled. �
��We invite them to our home. Feed them. Let them see our daughter and all they do in return is sign a fucking card with cute fucking hearts?”

  Ronan could see how the fight got started. “So, you threw the first punch?”

  That took the self-righteous wind out of Shawn’s sails. “I got right in my mother’s face and asked her where the money was. My money! My fucking cut of the insurance money the two of them got from killing my father. Bitch slapped me in the face, so I slapped her right back.”

  “You slapped your mother?” Christ… Ronan could never imagine a scenario where he would ever have laid a hand on Erin.

  Shawn shrugged. “That’s when my sister jumped in. She shoved me away from our mother, yelling that was their money and I didn’t deserve a dime. So I punched her in her stupid fucking face.”

  “Looks like she punched you back, champ.” Ronan couldn’t help himself. He’d sat here listening to this shit long enough.

  “Fuck you! Whose side are you on, anyway?” Shawn grimaced in pain.

  Ronan hoped Shawn’s face hurt like a motherfucker. “I’m on your father’s side. Which all of you seem to have forgotten here. Someone murdered Harold. Now whether he deserved it or not is irrelevant. He’s dead. Someone killed him. It’s my job to figure out who did it.” Ronan took a deep breath. “Here’s the kicker though, insurance companies don’t like it when policy beneficiaries turn out to be murderers. If your mother or your sister killed Harold, the money has to be paid back to the insurance company.”

  “What are you saying?” Shawn gave his wife a confused look.

  “That tuition money your mother’s been giving Ophelia? If Maxine killed your father and then gave Ophelia the insurance payout money, guess who’s on the hook to pay it back?” Asshole… Ronan couldn’t help grinning like a fool at the dumbass sitting in front of him.

  “You’re fucking lying!” Shawn snarled.

  “Hell if I am.” Ronan shrugged his broad shoulders. “You’re going to need a lawyer to help you through the arraignment process after your arrest tonight. Ask him if what I just told you is true.” Ronan started to whistle as he walked out of Shawn’s hospital room door. He burst out laughing a moment later when Shawn’s outraged bellow followed him down the hall.