“I damn near broke the kid's hand for being an ass,” Stetson said. “He wasn't exactly the softest fella you'd meet. I know he's probably mad at the both of us, Carter and me.”
“How do you know about the guy? I've never heard of him,” Jamie said, refraining from looking at Stetson.
“He's part of the Nash Gibson gang here in Wyoming. They have a history of terrorizing the local blacks and homeless people, but back in the day, they had a lot more power over the county seat. But the times, as they say, are a changing,” Watkins said. He opened the drawer and pulled out a file full of crime scene photos. He handed them to Stetson and Jamie.
“Our men busted into his place last year after a local hobo who hung out at the square went missing. Turns out, the hobo did after all have a family. Even the people at that hardware shop had grown to likin' him. We found the body in a ditch not 20 miles from town, beaten with a tire iron across the face. Marsh's apartment had nothing we could directly tie him to the crime with, so we had to drop the case. There wasn't anything we could do,” Watkins said.
The photos showed pictures of a darkened, incommodious apartment, gray walls, and a single bed in a bare place. There were two air mattresses stacked on top of each other, with a small cheap desk with a metal chair nearby. On the walls were KKK and insignia celebrating the Confederate States of America. Other photos showed a curiously random place in the desert, an archaeological dig site it looked like.
“What's this?” Stetson said.
“Oh that's where we think he hangs out on Fridays, getting drunk with the rest of his gang. We have never found any hard evidence of missing persons at that place so there's no point in hounding them.”
Watkins was coming off as resigned about Jaidon Marsh, and Stetson had a burning desire to smack the cop right across the jaw, given that Carter's life was at stake. Stetson thought the guy was acting mighty careless about following up on any leads, and when Watkins threw another stack of photos in his direction, he immediately knew the man just didn't give a shit about finding Carter. Carter might as well have been given up for dead.
The photos showed gruesome, detailed images of the hobo's body, whose face was lacerated beyond recognition, and in a hallucinatory moment, Stetson saw Carter's broken face and hands in those photos. The hobo's bloody clothes and burned scalp were now Carter's clothes and scalp. Stetson's stomach churned at what his instincts told him—that when he accosted Jaidon Marsh, he'd made a spiteful enemy, and now Carter was paying for it. Stetson felt a tremendous, Herculean responsibility to make things right at all costs, no matter what, no matter how. He realized Presley Watkins neither had the gall nor the smarts to realize the solution to the mystery lay right before him, on his desk, in photographic detail. Stetson knew he would be outside the law, on his own in the mission to save the kid whom he had betrayed, and it was a compromise he was more than willing to take, no matter what the cost. As Watkins continued chatting away with Jamie, Stetson picked up the photo of the dig site, his hunter instincts giving him even more information about Jaidon's possible whereabouts. There was a time when Stetson's father took him to various events around the state. In Wyoming, just about the most exciting thing to experience was a real-life dinosaur dig, as Stetson was a dinosaur fanatic as a child. The place in the photos looked incredibly similar, especially one showing Jaidon standing next to a U-shaped rock formation, the same rock formation Stetson himself had obsessed about in his toddler stages. It was unmistakably the same place.
He decided not to tell Presley Watkins where he was going, as he stood up, putting the picture of the dino dig in his pocket discreetly. He thanked Watkins as he left the room and Jamie followed after. They were walking through the hallway, on their own, when Jamie inquired about Stetson's motives.
“You're acting strange. Why did you leave so quick? Tell me if you've figured something out.”
“I know he took your brother,” Stetson said. “I had a gut feeling at first. But now I know where his hideout is.”
“Where is my brother?”
“There's a dig site not 50 miles south of this place. Went there when I was a kid. He's gotta be there.”
“Well, well why didn't you tell him? We've got to tell him, Stets. That's where my he's got my brother,” Jamie said, his voice calm, as he walked back in the direction of Watkins' office. Stetson grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.
“He ain't got time nor care, Jaylon. We gonna have to take this into our own hands,” he said. “I gotta save him.”
Jaylon became very cold all of a sudden. “Do you think I forgot I caught you fucking my brother? You're a fucking queer and I'm liable to tell Watkins the full story. Maybe you were the one—” Jaylon’s speech was cut off back Stetson's massive hand around his throat. In one instant, he pushed Jamie back into the men's bathroom where they couldn't be heard. Jaylon had never been more afraid in his life.
“I—can't breathe,” he said.
“Listen here fuck stick. I ain't no god damn queer. If I so much as hear one word from you about what you witnessed, you'll be the next missing person bud. Nod your head so you understand me boy.”
Jaylon was a tall guy, but there was not a single human being he'd ever met who was scarier than Stetson in that moment. No matter what animosity Jamie held for those different from him, homosexuals included, there was nothing he'd ever do to put himself at the mercy of the angry cowboy currently choking him. He agreed to keep his mouth shut, and before they could say anything else, both men heard sounds coming from next door. They stepped out of the restroom and took a peek at the cops watching the body cam footage of their murdered fellow officer.
The screen showed the officer approaching the white sedan from behind, where the driver was reluctant to roll down his window. The officer tapped on the window with his flashlight, cracking the glass a little. The man rolled down the window finally, as the officer's flashlight shined into his near-translucent green eyes. The man was Jaidon Marsh.
“You cracked my window,” he said.
“Good afternoon sir. Do you know why I pulled you over today?”
“Speeding I guess. I apologize.” There was not a single mark of sincerity in Jaidon's voice.
“That'd be it. Can I see your license and registration?” Stetson could see Jaidon reach into his pocket and pull out his license to hand to the officer. The tension in the room was palpable, given that the men knew what the outcome of the video was going to be. They all sat, stomachs in knots, anticipating the dreadful moment when the officer would be shot.
“I'll be right back,” the officer said, as the camera turned back in the direction of the police car. When the officer walked near the trunk of the car, there was a strange sound coming from within it. The officer stopped and the men watching could hear him say, “What the shit.” A loud bang emanated from the trunk again and the officer reacted out loud. “There's someone in there!” Before he even had a chance to turn around there was a loud pop of a gun and the camera went down, pointed at the tire, as the officer fell to the ground.
VII
Stetson drove 75 miles per hour down the highway, only 5 miles per hour above the speed limit, but the urgency and dread that permeated the cabin gave Jamie goose bumps.
“Man, I'm sure he's all right. Let's just turn back and let the cops handle it. We're going to get killed, I say. Stets just stop.”
Stetson ignored him as he pulled over to the side of the road. “What the fuck are you doing Stetson? We're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Where are you going?”
Stetson got out of the trunk and walked around the back of the truck bed. He opened a metal box snug against the edge of the rail and pulled out a rifle. He opened the chamber to make sure it was loaded. He walked back around to the driver's seat and pulled out a cell phone, handing it to Jamie.
“Listen here. I'm gonna handle this situation. But I want you to call the cops when I tell you and let them know where we are?”
“Why can't we j
ust call them now!?”
“Because I don't trust them. They won't look for Carter. Once I find him, then we can drag Marsh to jail where he belongs. Are you ready?”
“God a mighty,” Jamie said. “I can't believe this is happening.”
Stetson put his rifle behind the cabin seat and got back into the truck to head to the dig site. He pulled from his pocket the picture he'd stolen from the police station of the rock formation where Jaidon was smoking with his buddies. After some driving around in the dark, he came upon the formation from behind, his headlights revealing it head-on in the distance. When he got as close as he could, Jamie looked out the window at a 50-foot high cliff wrapped around in a semi-circular aboveground cave. Stetson got out of his car and pulled a flashlight from under the seat.
“I want you to follow behind me several yards with this flash light, ya hear?” Stetson told him.
Jamie nodded his head, and both men approached the cave as if an evil wizard has called them forward to face their fate.
They stepped deliberately on the damp sand on step at a time, the light from behind Stetson trembling in fear. The opening of the cave swallowed them whole from the start, where they would have been enveloped in complete darkness if not for Stetson's careful thinking. It was silent, moist, and cool inside, and Jamie waved the light back and forth, scanning each side of the wide tunnel. After a few hundred yards, the tunnel opened out into a clearing, the heart of the cave, and there was nowhere else to go, save a hole in the roof of the rock, where soft moonlight spilled down into the opening. The wind created a hollow moan that sent shivers down Jamie's spine.
Stetson remained stoic and unblinking. He walked around the place, around a smoldering campfire with some black ash in the middle of the area, a few medium size boulders obviously used for benches, and globs of burned cigarette butts. Stetson's head shot around, his ear pointing to the opening of the cave.
“Hey guys?” a familiar voice said. Stetson gripped his rifle as he turned to face Jaidon Marsh, who had a pistol pointing at Stetson. “Mind if I join the party? Your headlights announced your arrival better than a lighthouse.” Jaidon put on a face of bravado—he was playing muffin—but Stetson could sense nothing but fear from him.
“Drop your gun,” Jaidon said to Stetson. He obliged. Jaidon picked it up and started to hand it to Jamie, who acted confused. “Oh I see. Well, cowboy, let's go. Walk in front of me so I can shoot you when you try to run.”
They walked out of the cave, past Stetson's truck for several miles through the desert. After a while, the flashlight revealed a barbed wire fence in the distance, with a figure tied to one of its posts. As they got closer, Stetson's heart sank at the sight of Carter hanging on the side, his hand beaten to a pulp and the rest of him whimpering from exhaustion.
“Here's your buddy cowboy.” Jaidon's eyes seemed greener than ever with the evil vibrating out of them.
From his peripheral vision, he could see Jamie laugh nervously as he dropped the cell phone Stetson gave him on the ground, crushing it under his feet. Jaidon laughed with him. “Looks like there's nobody to help you now, fucker.” Jaidon and Jamie were working together all along.
He poked Stetson to a nearby post and then pulled out a giant rope. As he sat down the rifle on the post and switched the gun from one hand to another, Stetson's hunting instincts took over, and he jerked his elbow back as hard as he could, planting his thick tricep right in Jaidon Marsh's mouth. He could feel Jaidon's teeth break under the weight of the blow, and Jaidon fell back, screaming. As he did, he dropped the gun where Stetson snatched it from mid air. Without thinking, he shot in the direction of Jamie who fell back screaming, as a bullet grazed his shoulder, and then he fired in Jaidon's direction, blowing his face off all at once. Jamie ran off screaming in the night, and Stetson shouldered the rifle around his torso and the pistol in his tight pants. The worst was over.
He looked up at the pitiful Carter, who could barely move. He reached out, touched his hand to assess the damage, and then used his hunting knife to cut Carter loose. The anger Stetson felt in those moments at the sight of Carter's battered hand might have made his head explode. One shot was not enough. He wished Jaidon had suffered longer, because he had caused so much suffering to Carter.
Stetson brushed his finger across Carter's cheek, which was unconscious but alive, in one piece, intact. He took Carter from the post, knowing no other way to show his affection than simply carrying him, sleeping in his arms, all the way back to the truck in the darkness of the night.
VIII
He lay Carter down on the bed of the truck and put the rifle back into the metal box. The sound of the box woke Carter up and he sat straight up, looking around at his surroundings.
“Oh God. You saved me,” he said. “Where's Jaidon?”
“Dead. I blew him to hell,” Stetson said, almost proud.
“Oh God. How did you find me?”
“I'm a good hunter, boy.”
“I'll say.” He looked down at his battered hand.
“You gonna be all right?”
“Yeah it's just my hand. He didn't get much more of me, because I fought him off with a shower rod. Thank God I put clothes on before he found me in the restroom,” Carter tried to laugh at the situation. Stetson stepped forward, a burning passion growing in his heart, matched only by the gratefulness that his mistake with Carter wouldn't turn out to be fatal. It was a mistake he could make up for. When he looked at Carter, he could feel that same desire he had had for Lee Ann, but this time it was much more immediate and all consuming. He was so mad at himself for letting Carter go unprotected in this world, and he vowed to himself that Carter would never go alone in the world again.
Without thinking, Stetson found himself on top of Carter, kissing his neck and lips furiously. He was afraid to completely kiss him for fear of smothering him, but Carter was receptive to his advances. He lied down on the back of the truck, while Stetson continued to make love to him, running his massive hands up and down Carter's torso. Carter shivered with pleasure, but Stetson could sense there was sadness in him, maybe a fear of being hurt, like Stetson himself was afraid of being hurt, because of his history. He remembered Carter's mom said something about his friend Maddox being killed and realized this was the source of Carter's pain. It all made sense now what happened to him a year ago, around the same time Stetson himself discovered his own love betraying him. For some reason this made Stetson trust Carter more, despite the history of bad relationships and trust issues Stetson had endured. He actually loved Carter more easily than his father or Lee Ann, because of this shared tragedy between the two men. He intensified his kissing, ripping open Carter's shirt, exposing him in the moonlight. Carter seemed nervous and Stetson stopped.
“It's okay bud,” he said. “Don't worry. I'm here.” Carter smiled, a single tear flowing from his right eye. He grabbed Stetson's head from behind and pulled him closer to kiss him. They continue to make out for several minutes before Stetson took his shirt off, a single scratch made by the barbed wire he rubbed against his shoulder. Carter ran his fingers across his lightly, as if he were trying to rub it away, angry that someone would hurt the person he loved. He wrapped his legs around Stetson, who ran his own hand down Carter's torso. Stetson continued kissing down Carter's chest, and Carter realized the difference between making love to men versus women was without a doubt the forcefulness of the lover. Women must have been light and emotional, communicating their affection through meaning behind their kiss. Men, on the other hand, made all the sucking, licking, stroking, and kissing the sole way they showed their love. And for the first time in a long time, Carter felt glad to be queer.
Stetson jerked his pants off, and then continued kissing down Carter's underwear, until he got to the inside of his thighs, biting him lightly but forcefully. Carter shook with longing. Then for the first time ever, Stetson took Carter in his mouth, licking and sucking him with the fervor of a new lover. He was no longer afraid of the rel
ationship in that moment.
He continued tasting Carter who indicated he was going to come, and warm fluid filled Stetson's mouth. He did not consider the implications of what had happened, but simply that he was closer than ever to Carter. As things calmed down, Stetson looked up from Carter's lap.
“We should go to the police,” Carter said. “You shot him. If you wait, they'll think you did it.” Stetson nodded in agreement. As they rode back to the police station in silence, Stetson reached over to touch Carter's wounded hand in the darkness.
“Look at what he did to you,” Stetson said. Then he squeezed Carter's wrist tight.
At the police station, Carter followed Stetson through the front double door. When the police caught the sight of Stetson entering, a look of recognition fell across their face, as if they had just met an infamous celebrity. Stetson approached Presley Watkins, who did not delay in responding to the situation through his walkie talkie.
“Code red, code red,” he said, quiet. Without saying a word to Stetson, he grabbed him by the wrist, as a child would grab a giant. “Stetson Carthswaite, you are under arrest for the murder of Jaidon Marsh. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”
Stetson looked in shock over at Carter, whom the police were dragging away against his will.
Saving the Stallion
The Trial
I
Officer Michael Ingrams, naked and in the process of undressing his wife, slipped his tongue down his wife's throat, the night the police department called him to announce his promotion to Detective Sergeant. He started out in criminal justice in college, dreaming that he would make it to Quantico, Virginia, where he would study serial killers and how their minds were built, so the promotion sent positive vibrations through his life. On the other hand, the fact that he lost his erection right at the moment he was entering his wife and that his feelings for her, which had been up until this point in his marriage strong and everlasting, suddenly evaporated, gave a sinister undercurrent to the announcement of his promotion over the phone.
Chaos: Contemporary Biker Romance Page 34