Rushing In

by Alice Winters

  “Well, I took you to a BDSM restaurant on our second date, so really, I think you’re free to do whatever and it won’t top that.”

  He starts laughing, and I’m glad to hear it. I don’t want him upset with his choices or his decisions when he shouldn’t be. Not when his father doesn’t deserve any of his focus.

  “I’m hungry. Do you want to get some breakfast?” I ask.

  “Will it involve whips this time?”

  I grin at him. “Do you want it to?”

  He opens his mouth, closes it, then seems to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that.

  He stands up, pulling me to my feet before leading me into the room. “I’m going to go down to the front desk and get some toothbrushes. Wait for me for a shower?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  He smiles at me and squeezes my hand before letting go and grabbing his shirt. He tugs it on and slips through the door.

  When he returns, we brush our teeth while the shower heats up. Then I push my pants down and slip inside a moment before he does. I relax in the warm water as I watch him step in.

  “Where do you want to eat?” he asks as I reach out and run my fingers over his tattoos. I love the splashes of color that instantly draw my eyes.

  “I picked last, your turn,” I say as I draw a finger over the tattoo of a tiger.

  “That was my first tattoo,” he says.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “I spent a ton of time finding the right person for it. I got it after I left home and I read this book about the courage of a tiger. And I felt like that was what I was lacking for so much of my life. The courage to stand on my own. It’s… weird and stupid.”

  I stab him with my finger. “You’re not allowed to be negative about yourself,” I say. “I will not allow it. No part of that was weird or stupid. Maybe the part about reading a book without pictures, but that was it.”

  He shakes his head. “I will make you read a book and enjoy it.”

  “Gross. Ew. Don’t.”

  “So if I get into this whole BDSM thing, a good way to punish you will not be spanking, or depriving you of release, but a book.”

  I start laughing. “You’re not bringing your weird fetishes into my BDSM time!” I cry.

  He grabs me and pulls me out of the warm water and into his arms. “Books are not weird fetishes! What if I find my absolute favorite book in the whole world, and you just try to read it?”

  “Is it under fifty pages?”

  “I’m not sure that would classify as a book.”

  “Fine. Fifty-five pages and deal.”

  “Two hundred pages.”

  I grimace.

  “But you only have to try three chapters.”

  “Deal.”

  “Good. I will show you how amazing books are.”

  “Don’t hold your breath, but my willingness to try should show you how much I like you. Is there sex in it? I do like sex in books.”

  “No sex.”

  “Seriously? Wow. I was thinking it’d be like your mom’s erotica or something.”

  He grimaces. “Please don’t ever mention my mom’s erotica. Especially when I’m naked and you’re naked.”

  “I still can’t believe your mom’s like, ‘Buy me a book with bondage and stuff,’ and you were like, ‘The kinky or regular?’”

  “That’s not how any of it went. I couldn’t even look her in the eyes as I handed her the book.”

  “I want to read one of her books, and then I’m going to quote scenes from it every time I see you,” I say with a wicked grin.

  “I know who will never meet my family,” he says.

  “Aw, come on! You’re no fun! People make money from reading their parent’s erotica. You could be rich from reading your mom’s filthy fantasies.”

  “No! Because they make fun of them because they’re bad. My mom’s shown me the reviews! They’re excellent and that makes it even more mortifying. Like… why?”

  “Tell her I’d love to be a co-writer.”

  “No, you’re not allowed to meet her or be around her.”

  “Same goes for my father then. You’re not allowed to talk to him.”

  “Yeah, but your father embarrasses you, and I like that.”

  “How is that fair?”

  He shrugs. “Sounds fair to me,” he says as he grabs the shampoo out of the crappy free bottle.

  Then he goes for my hair and I close my eyes as I lean into him. He runs his fingers through my hair, lulling me into this state of euphoria. When he’s finished, he grabs the soap so he can wash my body, using his bare fingers that make me press into his touch and ache for more.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I see Bradley stayed the night at your house last night,” Dad says as he stops next to where I’m getting coffee at work.

  I eye him suspiciously. “What? Are you stalking me?”

  “He’s covered in white cat hair. And he doesn’t even own a cat!”

  I snort. “You should have been a detective instead.”

  “So? How’d you embarrass yourself over the weekend?”

  “Not at all!” I say, not bothering to mention the restaurant since my father would never let me live that down.

  “Good, I’m proud of you.”

  “For not embarrassing myself?”

  “For finding someone normal.”

  “He’s not normal. He likes books.”

  “Ew,” Dad says.

  “I know, right?”

  “I’d keep a close eye on that one,” he says.

  I grin. “Trust me, I am.”

  “How’s your case going?” he asks.

  “Well… the vic is actually going to come in and talk to us. Imagine that!”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  I carry the two cups of coffee back, setting one on Bradley’s desk before heading over to mine. We work on desk work until Jamal arrives, and then we take him back to a private room. He already seems reserved as he sits down and refuses a bottle of water or coffee.

  He’s wearing an oversized jacket that makes him look small as he shrinks into it. It takes me a moment to realize that I’ve seen Tanner wear the same jacket. Does Tanner give him comfort, and that’s why he’s relying on it during a time like this?

  “How are classes going for you?” Bradley asks.

  “Fine,” he says as he sets his phone on the table and glances at it.

  “Is that your cat?” Bradley asks as he points to the screensaver.

  Jamal glances at the phone, hits the screen button since it’s gone black, and nods.

  “Officer Michaels has a really cute cat. Show him a picture of Inks,” he says.

  I pull out my phone. “I don’t know if I have any,” I say as I open the photos and show them the minimized version of the photo album, which is filled with pictures of Inks.

  Bradley laughs. “I think you might have a slight problem.”

  I grin as I click on one and show Jamal. “But look at him. He was rolled up into a ball on his back and how could you not snap a picture of that?”

  Jamal smiles. “He is cute. I like his black feet.” He hesitates, then grabs his phone and pulls it open to a picture of his black cat and shows me. “Her name’s Kiki.”

  “She’s adorable. We didn’t see her when we were over.”

  “She doesn’t like strangers. She only likes Tanner and me and hides from everyone else.”

  “Inks is the same way.”

  “I used to have a cat when I was a child,” Bradley says. “But my father made me get rid of her just because she snagged the couch. I was very upset, but I was too afraid of my father to say anything. I never even got to ask what happened to her.”

  Jamal watches him closely as he sets his phone back down.

  “I kept things to myself for many years. All of these… issues. My father wasn’t a good man. Abusive in many ways, but I just put up wi
th it because I thought that was my only option. If only I would have had someone there to tell me that it’s okay to open up. It’s okay to ask for help, then maybe I would have. Maybe I wouldn’t have run away from home or done all the stupid things I did. But instead, I kept it all locked up and it helped no one. Especially not me.”

  Jamal looks at me before staring back at his phone. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  “It’s fine now that I have a support group that helps me. We want to be part of that support group for you, Jamal.”

  “I know, but I just… don’t have anything to say,” he says. “I came just to identify the wallet. You said I needed to confirm it was mine even though my cards are in it.”

  “Alright,” Bradley says.

  When Jamal is finished, I walk him out before heading back to the conference room and sitting down next to Bradley.

  “He’s never going to give it up, is he?” Bradley asks as he looks over at me.

  “Nope, but I think it helped sharing your story with him. Maybe he’ll never open up to us, but hopefully he’ll open up to someone else,” I say as I sit down next to Bradley and take his hand.

  “Maybe.”

  I interlock our fingers as I stare down at them. “Dinner at my place?”

  “I’d love that.”

  Since we’re in the room alone with the cameras off, I lean over and kiss his cheek. “See you then.”

  ***

  I’m setting the table when there’s a knock on the door. I rush over to it and yank it open.

  “Hey,” I say with a huge smile. Even though we spent all weekend together, I still feel those first-time jitters when he walks in.

  “Hey,” Bradley says as he steps inside and looks around.

  He’s already been in the house, so I’m confused about what he’s looking for. “What?”

  “Just looking for the dominatrix.”

  I start laughing. “I left her behind. I’m an expert now. We don’t need her.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know everything there is to know about gags, bondage, ropes, and paddles.”

  “All from looking at the pictures?” he guesses.

  I point at him because he already knows me so well. “Yes.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  I grin at him. “Thanks.”

  Inks trots up and sniffs Bradley’s legs, like he has to make sure he hasn’t changed and is still an acceptable being. But as soon as Bradley pets him, he’s all purrs. Bradley even picks him up and carries him into the kitchen as the cat kneads his arm. It’s like Bradley knows that babying my cat is the perfect way to hook me. I’d invited a guy over once who didn’t like Inks at all and he didn’t even get another chance.

  “It smells delicious.”

  “Thanks. I called my mom in a panic. Told her this cute guy from work was coming over, and I needed to make something that was ridiculously easy but also looks like I slaved over it all day.”

  “Ooh? When’s he arriving?” he jokes.

  I laugh. “Shush now. She had to borrow my car because hers blew a tire or something, so she came over and helped me,” I admit.

  “You literally could have lied and told me you did it all yourself.”

  “I don’t want to start off our relationship on lies, like you did by lying and telling me you were into something you’re not,” I joke.

  “I never said I was into anything! You made assumptions.”

  “Nah, I would never do something crazy like that!”

  He snorts. “Of course not!”

  The timer beeps, so I go over to the oven and pull the chicken slathered in cheese out before setting it on the counter. I start to dish up our plates before carrying them over to the table that is already set with silverware and drinks, because I’m on top of things.

  “Looks delicious. Tell your mom I said thanks.”

  I laugh. “I will.”

  He cuts into the chicken and takes a bite. “Hmm, that’s good. I wish my mom could cook.”

  “All she can do is write porn?” I ask.

  “Pretty much. You have to have a glass of water ready for everything she makes. It’s always so dry you have to use the water to swallow it.”

  “Did you take after her?” I ask curiously.

  “No! I can actually kind of cook. I have to stare at recipes the entire time, but it’ll be edible and maybe even good when I’m done.”

  “What are… recipes?” I ask.

  “They do make videos for recipes now. That might spike your interest.”

  “Ooh. Maybe.”

  “Did you start that book I gave you?” he asks.

  “I did!” I say before sticking a piece of chicken into my mouth in an attempt to not answer anything more.

  “And?”

  “I read one page!”

  “Wow!”

  “I know, right? The power of wanting to impress someone is strong inside me,” I say.

  He starts laughing. “It’s actually more than I thought you’d get done, if I’m being honest.”

  That’s when my phone rings and I look over at it. I debate not answering it before realizing that I think I recognize the number. “That kind of looks like Jamal’s number,” I say before swiping it and putting it on speaker. “This is Officer Michaels.”

  “O-Officer… this is Jamal.”

  “Hey, Jamal, what’s going on?”

  “I… I…” His voice quivers and he sounds on the verge of tears. He never even cried when they were loading him into the ambulance.

  “Did something happen?” I ask as calmly as I can.

  “I should’ve listened to you guys. I shouldn’t have… I just felt more comfortable talking to Tanner, and I thought he’d listen. You guys were talking about how it was best to talk to someone who would support you and Tanner is my support… but I told him who did it and now he’s heading over there, and I’m terrified he’s going to get hurt. Tanner can’t fight or… do… anything to protect himself.”

  “Where is he going?” I ask as I quickly get up.

  “H-His brother’s. Johnny’s”

  “His brother is who beat you up?” I ask.

  “Johnny and his friends. Yes. They told me to stay away from his brother. He… I can tell you later. Please stop Tanner.”

  “Can you give me the address?”

  “I… I don’t know it… maybe I have it in my phone? I’ll look. I’ll text it. Please stop Tanner. He won’t listen to me.”

  “Of course. I’m going to have Officer Howell call him right now and see if we can talk him into coming home,” I say.

  “Okay.”

  Bradley quickly pulls his phone out as I get all the information I can out of Jamal. Then I head toward the door as I call it in to the station and tell them that we’re probably closer than anyone else, and we’ll head there immediately.

  “He’s not answering,” Bradley says as I hang up.

  “We’ll just drive there, and hopefully nothing is going on,” I say as I reach for my keys before realizing they’re not present because my mom took my car.

  Horror settles into my bones as I dramatically turn to Bradley. “Please tell me you drove your car.”

  “Bike, why?” His eyes get wide and he looks slightly amused. “Ohh… I can go without you,” he says.

  “No, I’m not sending you off alone because I’m terrified of your deathmobile. Let’s get this over with because I’m a brave, brave boy,” I say.

  “We’re going to have to go faster than ten miles per hour, though.”

  “I am prepared. If I piss my pants, you are not allowed to count that against my sex appeal,” I say as I grab what I need and hurry out the door. I scowl as I rush over to that nasty thing sitting in my driveway.

  He grabs the helmet off it and puts it on my head.

  “You should wear it!” I say.

  “I’d rather you be safe,” he says with a smile as he buckles it.

  Then he gets on the bike and t
urns it around before looking at me. “Ready?”

  “Nope,” I say as I climb on and wrap my arms around him. “I won’t crush your ribs this time.”

  “Sounds fantastic,” he says as he accelerates, and my arms instinctively lock into this bone-crushing embrace.

  “That didn’t even last a second,” he squeaks out.

  “Death is coming for us!”

  “We better outrun it then,” he says as the bike picks up speed.

  I close my eyes and press my face against his back, smacking him in the back of his head with his helmet rather hard. He’s a trooper, though, because he doesn’t even flinch. It’s kind of hot.

  But not hot enough to distract me from the ground moving at hyper-speed, death floating alongside us.

  “Look, we’ve already made it as far as you made it last time!” he says.

  “Oh my god, we’re only at the stop sign?” I cry. “It feels like I’ve been on this for years. Years.”

  “Yep! And now we’re headed for the highway.”

  “Oh no. Oh heavens no.” Now that we’re going faster, it’s getting harder to hear him, but I feel like I’m shouting loud enough out of terror that he can hear me just fine.

  “Think of Tanner.”

  “Tanner’s a fucking idiot,” I cry in my moment of weakness, even though I know that if I was in his shoes, I probably would have headed over to my brother’s house too. But I’d have taken a fucking Taser and a can of mace along.

  “We’re going to start merging now,” he says as I look up and see a semi.

  “The semi isn’t going to see us. They’re going to kill us,” I shout, since the bike is getting even louder.

  “They’re not going to kill us,” he says as he zooms right toward it.

  “Lord have mercy,” I cry as I squeeze even tighter. I didn’t think it was possible, but it is.

  “Lord have mercy is right—you’re killing me,” he says.

  “We shall die together,” I say.

  “What if I distract you? We could talk about something fun. Like… how you let a dominatrix pour alcohol all over my body.”