A Fallen Heart

by Cate Ashwood

  “Come with me,” Nash begged once more.

  Ford growled. “That’s a cheap move, Ridley.”

  “What? Making you happy so you’ll do what I want?”

  “Yeah.” The word was breathy. Nash’s mouth was flush against Ford’s sternum, sucking gently and making every nerve come alive in the process.

  Nash stood, meeting Ford’s eyes. “The mountains?”

  “Fine.”

  He beamed, a smile that made Ford’s stomach flip and his heart gave a double beat.

  IT TOOK them a little over half an hour with traffic, plus fifteen minutes more for Ford to retrieve suitable clothes from his place, to make it over the bridge and up the hill to the British Properties. Nash rounded the corner of the residential area, and there was a space on the opposite side of the road where a house had been torn down, leaving a gap in the trees that offered a view over the harbor and the entire city behind it. It was breathtaking.

  The closer they got, the more Ford regretted agreeing. A plush couch and a soft blanket seemed much more his speed. He’d been thinking with his dick again, and that never ended well.

  But instantly, Ford considered that maybe it worked both ways.

  He reached over, sliding his hand up along Nash’s thigh. Nash’s cock twitched against his hand, and he rubbed harder, until Nash shot him a faux-annoyed look.

  “You trying to make me wreck the car?” he asked.

  “Nope. But I was thinking… the views up here are gorgeous. Instead of hiking, we could park somewhere and make out.”

  Nash laughed, the deep sound filling the car. “I don’t think so. But if you want to make out after our hike, I would totally be up for that.”

  “Would a blow job sway your resolve?” he asked, as seductively as possible.

  The laugh was back, deeper and longer this time. “Rain check?”

  Ford pulled his hand back and gave an exaggerated pout.

  They were there already, and Nash found a place to park his giant SUV at the end of a road that looked more like they were arriving for a visit than willingly schlepping through the wilderness in the cold dampness.

  Reluctantly, Ford got out of the vehicle, gravel crunching beneath his feet, and made sure his scarf was firmly in place, his jacket zipped tight, and his mittens in his pocket. He was not made for the outdoors unless it involved a patio and a cocktail.

  The end of September in the North Shore Mountains was cool and drizzly. It wasn’t raining, but the air was saturated with mist, and Ford was miserable less than ten minutes in. He was freezing, he was already wet, and they’d barely made it off the street.

  “Give it half an hour, and if you still hate it, we’ll turn around and I’ll take you for Starbucks,” Nash said, plying him with promises.

  “Deal,” Ford said, resisting the urge to set a timer on his phone so he wouldn’t need to spend one second longer in nature than necessary.

  They made their way past the metal gate and onto the trail, the uneven ground seemingly carved out of the forest. Fog hung low, obscuring the treetops and blocking out the sky as they walked uphill, deeper into the woods.

  Ford was careful where he stepped, the pathway strewn with rocks and roots, making the terrain rough, which was irritating because despite his earlier reservations, the trail was beautiful and there was a lot to see. He was even warmer now that they were moving. If it weren’t for the bite to his nose and cheeks, he wouldn’t notice the cold at all.

  They walked slowly so Ford could take in the sights without risk of breaking his neck. Ford removed one mitten and slid his hand into Nash’s, reluctant to admit that, in spite of himself, he was actually enjoying being out with Nash.

  Other than the plank bridge that ran over a tiny creek, there was nothing to see for miles but wilderness. The air smelled fresh and earthy, and Ford wished he could bottle it. He’d never realized how much wild land surrounded the city. He couldn’t blame Nash for wanting to take advantage of it.

  The trail was tricky in parts, and at one point, Nash led him off the main path toward another. In front of them stood a massive tree, easily ten times the size of the ones around it. It had to be at least five hundred years old, Ford figured. Nash read from the tattered pamphlet he’d brought, but it didn’t say how old the ancient tree was.

  They’d been walking for close to an hour, and they hadn’t seen another soul since the small group of people they’d passed on their way in. It was tranquil. Even Ford was beginning to think this was a better idea than he’d originally assumed.

  When they came upon Brothers Creek soon after, Ford leaned against the railing of the bridge, watching the water rush beneath it. The sound was calming. Suddenly Ford wished he could stay there forever.

  Who knew he’d enter the forest a cranky, sullen idiot and leave a changed man?

  “We’re halfway done, according to the map.”

  “Already?” Ford asked.

  Nash grinned wide. “Yep. You changing your mind about enjoying the great outdoors?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Okay, this wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Ford admitted.

  “And we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I wouldn’t dare spoil the surprise for you.”

  Ford looked sideways at him.

  “Let’s keep going. You won’t need to wait much longer. I promise.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  FORD’S CHEEKS were as pink as the tips of his ears, but the smile he’d permanently worn for the last hour had Nash feeling like more of a hero than he had the last time he’d gotten pulses back during a cardiac arrest. Halfway out of the city, he’d worried taking Ford on a hike was a bad idea, and by the time they were slipping through the gate that marked the beginning of the trail, he’d been sure it was.

  But something changed once the city and the noise fell away. The sounds of traffic were replaced by birds and rushing water. It was like a cleanser for the soul. It hadn’t taken long at all for Ford’s sullenness to transform into awe at the beauty of the area.

  They crossed Brothers Creek and made their way south toward the Crossover Trail junction. It was downhill and less taxing than the initial climb. He and Ford talked about nothing at all, Nash enjoying his company. He still had trouble believing that three weeks earlier, he hadn’t known Ford existed. He’d developed feelings for him, swiftly and surely.

  They passed the junction, and a few minutes beyond was a dense copse of trees, the ground covered in large ferns. Nash grabbed Ford’s hand and tugged him off the trail, navigating between the ferns and up a small hill, far enough into the forest that he could no longer see the trail.

  “Are we going to see another giant tree?” Ford asked.

  “Nope. We’re going to cash in that rain check,” Nash said.

  There was a wicked glint in Ford’s eyes. Nash noticed an overturned tree that had been kept mostly dry by the others. He backed Ford up against it before dropping to his knees. Wet earth soaked through his jeans where he knelt, but he was too focused on getting Ford’s pants open to pay much attention.

  “You’re doing it wrong,” Ford said staring down at him, his body already starting to shiver. Nash wasn’t sure if it was from cold or anticipation, but he was about to remedy that either way.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve done this before… to you, in fact, and never received any complaints.”

  “No, I meant I’m supposed to be sucking… fuck.” Ford’s words were cut off as Nash pulled his erection from his jeans, leaned forward, and swirled his tongue around the head. He angled back, smiling at Ford’s hiss.

  “You can have a turn later,” Nash said, and Ford looked down at him with begging eyes that made Nash’s head spin. How could he deny this man anything?

  He moved forward once more, forgoing his teasing to give Ford exactly what he wanted. There would be time for teasing later, when two mont
hs’ worth of rain wasn’t soaking through his pants.

  He took Ford into the back of his throat, working his shaft with his tongue as the head slid along the roof of his mouth. He pulled off before diving forward again, setting up a quick rhythm intended to push Ford right to the edge as swiftly as he could.

  Hard and fast, Ford’s orgasm slammed into him, his body buckling forward over Nash, but Nash held on, his fingers digging into Ford’s hips, Ford’s cock lodged in the back of his throat. Come pulsed and Nash swallowed, reveling in the sounds that fell from him, the desperate panting and then the sated sigh.

  Nash licked him clean before tucking him back inside his pants. He stood, and Ford grinned at him, eyes unfocused, bottom lip red from where he’d been chewing on it.

  Nash kissed him, rough and possessive, knowing Ford could taste himself. One of them groaned. Nash was so hard it hurt, his erection insistent. He wanted to turn Ford over the log and fuck him then and there, but it was beginning to rain, and Nash wanted to get him somewhere he could take his time and really enjoy fucking him senseless.

  It was going to suck, hiking the rest of the way out with a hard-on.

  Nash looked down and saw his knees stained and wet from the forest floor. They hadn’t run into anyone on the trail so far that day, most people avoiding the forest on a cool fall day, but should anyone happen to see them, they would know instantly what he and Ford had been up to.

  The thought made him chuckle under his breath.

  “What?” Ford asked.

  Nash looked pointedly at his sullied jeans. “I look like a debauched forest ranger.”

  “You really do,” Ford said. “If I’d known hiking was this much fun, I’d have taken it up years ago.”

  Nash kissed him again. “We can come up here as often as you want.”

  Ford’s expression of instant regret made him burst out laughing. “We should get going. I want to finish what we started when we get home.”

  “That sounds like the best plan you’ve had all day.”

  WHEN THEY arrived back at the SUV, Nash noticed a voice mail message had been left on his phone.

  “I’ve got one too,” Ford said.

  “We must have lost cell reception.”

  They both listened to the messages.

  “Jack?” Ford asked once Nash had lowered his phone.

  “Yeah, you too?”

  “Yeah. He wants to ask me some questions. I knew he’d be calling eventually.”

  “He has questions for me too.”

  “Maybe we should get cleaned up first?” Ford suggested.

  Now that they were no longer moving, the sweat began to cool, sending a chill through him.

  “Probably a good idea. Don’t want to walk into the police station with dirty knees.”

  That earned him a smile. “Nope.”

  They climbed into the car, and Nash set for home, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he drove. It had been so nice to escape the city for a few hours and leave all debris from the fallout behind. As they neared home, Nash knew they’d have to deal with it eventually. As much as he didn’t want Ford to get dragged back down, doing whatever they could to help Jack to solve the case was their best bet.

  JACK INSISTED on coming to them, citing convenience when he learned Ford was staying with Nash. That was fine by him. Nash figured it would seem less depressing to be questioned by the police if they were sitting on his sofa drinking coffee rather than in an office in the police station.

  He arrived later that afternoon, along with a man Nash had never seen before.

  “Where’s Greer?” Ford asked before the two men had even stepped all the way inside the apartment.

  “Her baby is due in a little over a week, so she’s started her mat leave early to get ready for it,” Jack replied, sounding annoyed. “This is my partner in the interim, Walter.”

  Walter looked to be in his midfifties, with a bushy gray mustache and a tweed jacket Nash thought he likely bought from a thrift store on Main Street. He half expected Walter to pull out a pipe and start smoking.

  “Come on in, gentlemen,” Nash said, stepping aside so they could enter the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

  “No, none for me, thanks,” Jack said. “We’re going to try to keep this brief.”

  “No, thanks,” Walter said.

  They walked in and took a seat on Nash’s sofa, Nash opting to stand and Ford sitting in the chair across from them.

  “We’re in the process of interviewing everyone who had contact with the victims brought in on Wednesday night. I’ve spoken to Adam, Sam, Caleb, and Rob already, as well as the ER staff and psych nurses who were on that night.”

  Walter sat ready, pen poised over a notepad, and Jack looked mildly irritated.

  Nash went first, recounting everything that led up to discovering Joel and Rory at the churchyard and then everything that happened afterward. He knew it would be difficult for Ford to hear, but he tried his best to leave nothing out.

  This wasn’t the first time he had to give statements to the police about calls he’d attended. Cases that involved people driving under the influence were the most common, but he’d also testified in abuse cases. He’d learned from experience that sometimes the smallest detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem, could be the one thing that mattered most. This time he’d known immediately that his input would most likely be required, and so he’d tried to sear every detail he could into his mind at the time.

  Jack had a couple of follow-up questions, which Nash answered as best he could. Their concentration with him had been on questions concerning Rory, rather than Joel’s care. It made sense, but Nash hadn’t had much contact with Rory. He wished he could be of more help.

  Satisfied, Jack moved on to questioning Ford.

  “Why don’t we begin with your version of events?”

  Ford swallowed hard, and Nash clenched his hands to keep from reaching for him. He knew this was going to be difficult.

  “Nash, Caleb, and Rob brought Joel into the ER. He was in rough shape but nothing imminently life-threatening. He was heavily addicted to opiates—his labs were worse than a lot of the hardcore junkies I’ve seen. He was nonverbal when he arrived, but I suspect it was due to the trauma he suffered. Eventually he was able to tell me his first name and his age.”

  “Did he tell you anything else?”

  Ford shook his head. “Not that night. He was going through withdrawal. You know, you and your partner were there that night.”

  “We were. We also checked the log of all employees and visitors to the emergency psych unit while Joel was there. You visited more than once. Can you tell me what would prompt you to do that?”

  “Do I need a reason?” Ford asked, an edge in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

  “No,” Jack replied, “but it seems out of character. Unless I’m mistaken and you follow up with all your patients, even after they’re no longer in your care.”

  Ford’s eyes narrowed. “Holy shit, Jack. You’ve known me for years. You really think I was involved somehow? Your little brother is one of my best friends—but then again, maybe you’ve forgotten because you’re refusing to speak to him.”

  The claws were definitely out, Nash thought, but despite the palpable tension in the room as Ford didn’t hesitate to air Jack’s family’s dirty laundry, Nash felt a little glimmer of pride for Ford, who obviously cared so much about his friends.

  “You need to leave Adam out of this, Ford,” Jack warned him.

  “Or maybe you’re thinking I’m a suspect because I’m gay? We all know how accepting you are.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Ford. If I thought you had anything to do with this, you’d be in cuffs in the back of my car, halfway back to the station by now. Ditch the goddamn attitude. I’m trying to figure out who’s killing these kids.”

  Ford’s mouth snapped shut, and Nash watched with wide eyes. Jack scrubbed a hand
down his face, sighing as he did. Clearly this case was taking a toll on him, and suddenly Nash felt nothing but empathy for him.

  “The sooner you answer our questions, the sooner we can leave you alone. I want this case solved, and if you can help us do that, then I implore you to please ignore whatever grudge you’ve got against me for shit you have no business sticking your nose into, and tell me what you know.”

  “Fine,” Ford said.

  “Why did you go to visit Joel after he was transferred out of your department?”

  “I wanted to make sure he was okay. When he came into the ER, I panicked for a second because he looked just like my little brother when Aaron was his age. It freaked me out, and he seemed so scared. I felt like we had a sort of bond. Diana, the social worker, mentioned that it was common for kids to latch on to someone they feel safe with. I was just checking up on him.”

  “So a week ago, you’d never met him?

  “Is that all it’s been? A week?” Ford said, the contemplative expression he wore suggesting that he wasn’t expecting anyone to answer.

  “Ford?” Jack said.

  Ford shook his head as though he was shaking thoughts from his mind. “Yeah, sorry. No. The night Nash brought him into the ER was the first time I met him.”

  “During your visits with him, did he say anything to you? Anything about what had happened to him or anything at all?”

  Ford paused. “He told me someone had hurt his friend, Rory, and that it was the man from the hotel, I think. I don’t know which hotel or which man. None of that means anything to me, and he was getting upset talking about it. I wish I’d asked him more questions. I had no idea it would be the last time….” Ford looked down at his lap.

  “That’s good, Ford. That might help us narrow down the search. So far this bastard has been slick enough that we haven’t come up with anything solid. He’s pissing me off,” Jack growled.

  “He’s bound to get sloppy eventually,” said Walter.

  Jack’s voice was low when he spoke again. “And when we find him, I’ll personally make sure he rots.”