Jumping at Shadows

by R. G. Green

  High resolution, a range up to ninety feet, and a completely weatherproof casing. The motion-detection and video-recording features were a plus, but the audio-recording function was the clincher. Although T.J. might have a different opinion, Eric hadn’t hesitated when it came to pulling out the plastic. The $1100 price tag on the night-vision security camera was worth it, though the purchase of two of them had definitely been a stretch. Overnight shipping with an early morning delivery—an early morning Saturday delivery, at that—had elevated the cost into the vicinity of astronomical. And then there was the gun he planned to purchase tomorrow.

  He grunted as he lifted his hips to shove his cock hard through his fingers.

  He’d already arranged the purchase of a basic 9mm, common to the police force and easily obtainable by members of the law enforcement community. It wasn’t an outright violation of the rules that would allow him to bring it home immediately. The fact that he was a police officer had enabled him to get the standard seven-day waiting period waived, even though he hadn’t exactly followed standard procedures when requesting that waiver.

  What the dealer didn’t know, Eric wasn’t going to tell him. He was hesitant to tell T.J. until he absolutely had to. And he wasn’t thrilled about telling him about the alarm system that would be installed the next day either. His credit card had taken some major hits the last few hours, so he was glad that he was the one who normally retrieved the mail from the box. The increased monthly payments on the card would be just as telling as the itemized charges on the bill. If he was lucky, he could pay it down fast enough to keep T.J. from finding out.

  It might seem extreme, but it was necessary if he was going to stop Victor from ruining their lives. And that was exactly what he would do.

  He groaned as he slid a nail lightly over the engorged vein on the underside of his cock, then withdrew his hand and pushed to his feet. He could have continued masturbating on the couch in any number of positions, but with the sheer satisfaction at what he had done and the pure certainty of the results he was sure he would get, Eric wanted something a little different, something a little more exciting as a form of celebration. It was why he stopped at the hall closet on the way to the bedroom, and why he pulled out the brocade pillow his mother had given them for Christmas last year. Little more than a long, tightly stuffed roll, it was covered with a raised design in gold over a lavender-gray fabric, and it was the perfect thickness to rest against his balls as he straddled it on the bed. The coarse stitching over slick linen also created just the right mix of rough and smooth, something that hadn’t taken him or T.J. long to find out last Christmas morning. They were just lucky the brocade cover was removable for washing.

  The pillow thumped on the bed as his hands slid the sweats along his hips, and cool air kissed his cock the moment it was free. But even as his fingers wrapped around it to warm and stroke, he couldn’t keep his eyes from watching the shade-covered window. The still, solid surface of the shade was his only protection against what lay outside it, and his eyes didn’t close as he crawled up the bed on his knees, not until the scrape of woven threads brushed lightly over his sac. A grim smile crossed his face as he leaned forward to brace himself on his hands, and he slid his balls once before lowering to his elbows.

  Victor was out there and had no doubt seen him do this before, probably had video of him spreading his legs so that his own weight pressed his cock into the heavy brocade. His sound system would have captured the sharp, breathy gasp that was forced out by Eric’s first thrust against the textured surface, and would have continued to record the series of low, ragged grunts that issued as he began to move over the rough-woven surface.

  Victor no doubt knew every detail of Eric’s indulgence in this form of self-pleasure, from the way his fingers gripped the bedcovers to the flex of muscles as he squirmed obscenely for contact and friction. He would know how the springs of the bed would begin to creak as he worked himself harder against the pillow, how erratic his movements would become as the threads began a delicious burn along the length of his cock, how the thrust of his hips would turn almost brutal as his orgasm drew closer. And he would know how Eric’s body would jerk sharply the moment his release soaked the brocade fibers with thick, hot streams of cum, and how he would tremble and shake as the force of his orgasm eased. Victor had no doubt seen it all, from beginning to end.

  A thin smile creased Eric’s lips as he let his exhausted muscles relax, and he stretched his body languidly over the damp, cum-stained fabric of the pillow.

  That would change tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  “Checking out the Internet dating sites?” T.J. asked teasingly, and Eric looked up to find his lover leaning casually over the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, his expression a mixture of lechery and curiosity.

  The smells of garlic and pepper floated from the kitchen behind him, accompanied by the gentle sizzle of pork chops frying on the stove. T.J. had offered to cook tonight, judging Eric too wound up to keep the meat from burning. Eric had to admit he was grateful for the relief from cooking, even if he silently denied he was “wound up.” At least not wound up for the reason T.J. obviously thought. Suspension had been a shock, but it was the cameras and the alarm that would be coming in the morning and the gun he would purchase the next afternoon that made his nerves jump. He didn’t regret the purchases, but his confidence was mixed with worry as he wondered how T.J. would react to them when he found out, and Eric had no doubt whatsoever that he would. T.J. might love him, but that wouldn’t stop him from being pissed.

  “What are you looking at over there anyway?” T.J. asked again, nodding at the laptop but not otherwise moving from his position. He spun the cooking fork he held in one hand deftly as he spoke, obviously not concerned with splattering.

  “Nothing,” Eric said quickly, and the screenshot closed with a brief and obvious click of the mouse. He had swung the laptop around so he could sit on the floor, though he had told himself that it was for comfort rather than to prevent T.J. from accidentally viewing the screen. Still, the raised eyebrow had given way to narrowed eyes by the time Eric looked back. Eric swallowed. “I just wanted to make sure I’m not missing anything,” he said with a sheepishness not entirely feigned. “Jeff would probably call, but since he didn’t, I was hoping….” He trailed off with a wave in the direction of the laptop. These words held enough truth that he could tell himself they weren’t a lie, and the statement had enough broadness in meaning that he could convince himself he was being entirely truthful. Convincing T.J. was a different story.

  “And besides, I do have all of these long, lonely days ahead of me,” he added innocently, flashing his lover a smile over the top of the laptop in front of him.

  T.J. raised an eyebrow. “Looking for ass on the side while I’m at work is one thing, but looking while I’m right here…?” He shook his head, turning back into the kitchen. “That’s just rude. I think I’m ashamed of you.”

  Eric laughed and shut the computer down completely with a quick and relieved tapping of keys. It was only because of his own restlessness that he had logged on to begin with, and he had already verified the shipping statuses and delivery times and had ensured that there were no e-mails indicating problems with his orders. The cameras would arrive early the next morning, the installers for the alarm by ten. He could go pick up his 9mm after lunch. All was going as planned. The screen on the laptop was dark when he stood up, and he joined his lover in the kitchen just as T.J. flipped the pork chops in the pan.

  “I suppose I can wait until tomorrow to continue cruising,” Eric offered with an exaggerated sigh, slipping behind T.J. and leaning in to smell the meat. “You did work hard all day long, after all. I guess that deserves some kind of attention. Mmm, that smells good.” The low hum was accompanied by a slide of his hands over T.J.’s bare stomach, and he pressed in closer as he drew another deep breath of roasted garlic. They were both shirtless and wearing only sweats, so i
t wasn’t surprising that the heat was low to keep any grease from splattering, and so far T.J.’s skin remained unburned.

  “Easy, baby,” T.J. chided teasingly. “We’ll get to that later, after I get you fed.” He turned his head to give a sloppy kiss. “Why don’t you grab some beer?”

  Eric nipped his chin as one hand dropped below the waist of the sweats. “Not my favorite thing to grab, but I think I can handle it.” But he moved away after only a quick grope, heading for the refrigerator.

  “I did talk to Belinda earlier today,” Eric added as he swung the door open. “Turns out the trip Judge Kenczik is planning to Barbados is for the spring, and for a single traveler. I need to call Jeff later and see if he found out anything about who this Alexander Daniels really is, and just how he relates to Judge Kenczik.”

  T.J. frowned briefly over his shoulder before returning to the stove and giving his attention to the sauce simmering in the second pan on the stovetop. “I thought you said he would call you if he found something. And you apparently didn’t get any e-mails from him. Besides, isn’t it a little late to be calling him?”

  Eric stilled, starkly aware of the slip he had nearly made. It should have been worrisome how easily the explanation that followed left his mouth.

  “Cops don’t keep regular hours, you know that,” he said quickly, though hopefully not too quickly. “You know what my hours are like when I’m on an active case. Jeff is probably still working even now.” At least he hoped he was, but he didn’t add that part out loud.

  “Don’t you think he would have already called if he found something?”

  Eric hesitated as the door closed behind him, but T.J. wasn’t looking at him. Although he hadn’t exactly sounded challenging, it still sounded like more than a simple question. Eric shrugged again as he resumed moving, two bottles of beer gripped in one hand. “Maybe, but it won’t hurt to check. He may have found something but just didn’t think it was important enough to call. I just want to make sure.”

  T.J. nodded but didn’t turn away from the stove as he turned the heat down even farther. His next question brought Eric up short. “Baby, are you sure you’re not getting in over your head on this?”

  “What?” Eric let the rest of what he would have said trail off, but he had heard the sharpness in his own voice. He already knew how T.J. would answer, though, and he waited expectantly as he saw his lover’s back move with a deep breath, and watched as T.J. turned at last to face him.

  “Even I know that nothing you find this way is going to be admissible in court,” T.J. told him quietly, easing back against the counter beside the stove, “and hacking into someone else’s private life could turn dangerous, not to mention it could get all of you thrown in jail.”

  “You mean hacking into Judge Kenczik’s life can turn dangerous and get us thrown in jail,” Eric returned blatantly. The quick drop of T.J.’s head was confirmation enough, and Eric felt his stomach drop. He resumed his movement long enough to put the beers on the table. Then he curled his hands around the back of the nearest chair and took a deep breath as he leaned his weight against it. “I thought we already crossed this bridge, T.J., and you didn’t argue against it when we started this.”

  “No, I didn’t,” T.J. conceded, turning back to the stove to move the sauce from the heat. “What I told you then was to be careful and don’t take chances you don’t need to, or let Victor make you angry enough to do something stupid. All of that still stands.”

  “I know, and I’m not,” Eric assured him. He pushed himself from the chair and circled the table, brushing his hand along T.J.’s back as he moved past him to get the plates. “If we can find something on this Alexander Daniels and his relationship to Kenczik, then we can figure out how to get it legally. Besides, if Jeff can look at Kenczik without getting caught, he can do the same for Daniels.”

  “Unless Daniels is a computer hack himself,” T.J. murmured, meeting Eric’s eyes briefly as he took a plate from his hand.

  Eric frowned but didn’t answer, and dinner was arranged on the plates in silence. Neither sat as the plates were deposited on the table, but just as Eric turned to get napkins, T.J. slipped his arms around him and pulled him close, claiming a quick kiss before pulling back enough to rub noses. “Just be careful, okay?”

  Eric saw the concern in his eyes and relented enough to give as good as he got, adding a smile to assure T.J. he wasn’t angry. “Okay.”

  “Good. Now let’s eat.”

  Eric squinted as he tried to see through the glass, watching for movement behind the crowded trunks of the trees through the continual fall of sleet. He sat on his knees by the window, the shade bent just enough to give him clear sight to the tree line, still as naked as he had been when he had crawled away from T.J. and out of their bed. His lover still slept peacefully, and Eric was relieved that T.J. hadn’t woken up when he moved.

  The house on the other side of the tree line belonged to a middle-aged couple with a son who would be graduating high school this year. He and T.J. were on speaking terms with them, though they had never gotten together for visits or barbecues. A few conversations when they had happened to see each other outside were the extent of their acquaintance.

  Eric had never asked them if they had seen anyone in the trees during the last week, and his lips tightened as he reminded himself that that would most likely be a waste of time. If they had gone beyond their mind-your-own business attitude, they would have already reported it to the police, and someone at the precinct would have passed the word to him. They all knew where everyone else lived.

  Cracking wood echoed from a distance, the sound of breaking branches loud in the otherwise quiet neighborhood. Eric jerked his gaze to the right to follow the sound, but he couldn’t see anything odd through the fall of sleet, not even the branch that broke. His eyes returned to the trees directly behind the house a moment later.

  He was there. Just a darker shadow in the shadows of the trees, though Eric couldn’t see him. All Eric had to do was watch, and wait for him to move.

  Chapter Ten

  Ice-crusted ground crunched under his feet as he moved away from the tree, the fresh battery installed and the camera secured to the trunk. He had only to set up the programming on his computer, and then he would be in business. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour.

  He scanned the trees again, searching for any sign of movement, anything to give away the stalker who worked for Victor Kroger. No new footprints, no branches broken at odd angles. No way to tell if the ice in the creek had broken naturally or not. One last glance at the tree assured him his work here was done.

  Confident that the camera was watching on full power, he turned away from it and crossed the field and yard back to the house.

  “… 629.”

  The technician finished reciting the code that would disable the alarm, and Eric committed the numbers to memory alongside the one that would enable it. There were panels by both the front and the kitchen doors, with the wires trailing behind the walls to cover the entire house with the offsite monitoring. Eric handed over his credit card to cover the charges for the installation and first two months of service and waited patiently while it was run through the handheld card reader the technician carried. The man repeated his spiel about the additional charges in the event of a false alarm and reminded Eric to tell whoever else resided in the house that the alarm would be activated immediately.

  There was no way T.J. wouldn’t notice the newly installed panels the instant he returned that night, and Eric knew he would have to tell his lover something. He just hoped whatever it was would be good enough to satisfy him.

  The lights of Burnside Gunsmith turned off as soon as Eric was out the door, and Eric knew the door was locked a second later, even if he didn’t hear the tumblers fall. The owner had made a special concession to come in today, and that was only because of Eric’s status as a member of the Breten City Police Department. Burnside would remain closed the rest of the day,
and Eric vaguely hoped the owner wouldn’t get into an accident on his way home. The crunching of ice under his tires was loud as he maneuvered from the lot to the nearly empty city street. The Beretta 92FS sat safe in its case on the seat beside him.